So. England trounce the Windies in three days. Excellent performances from Onions, Swann and Bopara. Gloom of the winter dispelled. The little urn’s practically in the bag already. All England fans rejoice?
I think not, because most of us, I suspect – certainly those of us who work Monday to Friday – would have been looking forward to a nice weekend watching (or in my case listening in to) the Test Match. A fierce hailstorm yesterday gave me hope that the match might stretch out into today at least, but no.
Those who had bought tickets to watch the match must feel even worse. No doubt they’ve been looking forward to it for weeks, have bought their train tickets, arranged to meet old friends, made sure they’ve got a decent supply of fishpaste in for their sandwiches and now they’re faced with a gaping hole where the cricket ought to be.
I know this feeling all too well, having booked days off work to watch the fourth or even third day of a Leicestershire match to find that the poor old County have folded (or occasionally wrapped it up) by the previous evening. The frustration of following the scores the day before and watching the wickets tumble unexpectedly (or not), the what shall I do with myself now feeling.
Not just greedy administrators who want matches to go the distance, as is sometimes suggested.