Yesterday’s tomorrow (see below) is, predictably, today.
Wake up 6-ish (out of habit) – light cloud, but no rain. Cricket in the offing today, I think,and go back to bed with a light heart. Wake up again about 9.00 – torrential rain. Start making alternative plans. Phone prospects-of-play helpline about 11.00 – “if I’m honest, the propects of play are highly unlikely” says the decently rueful spokesman.
By 12.00 the rain’s stopped : you might even describe it as sunny. Assuming they haven’t decided to call it a day already, I can picture the scene at Grace Road. The regulars will be in the Fox Bar, or the Meet, having a pint or two and watching Sky Sport. Every so often they will go outside, look at the sky, peer at the pitch and up at the players’ balcony and into the Umpires’ room to see if there are any signs of life. Much muttering about how they themselves would be playing for (insert name of village/league side) in these conditions.
Periodically the Umpires will emerge, poke around at the wicket, suck their teeth and shake their heads. Conceivably the players may emerge in their tracksuits and play touch rugby, or football or what looks like baseball – anything but cricket.
Eventually either it will be announced that play will begin at 4.30, if there is no further rain (by which time all but the diehards will have departed) or the players will emerge, slip into their battleship grey sponsored cars and drive away – followed by a belated announcement that unfortunately play has had to be abandoned for the day.
Do worry slightly that this cricket mania is starting to get obsessive. Feel like a character in some grittily realistic novel about drug addiction whose only thought is where his next fix is coming from (for fix read sunny day of County Championship cricket). May reduce family to penury by obsessive calling of the ( I fear, premium-rate) prospects-of-play helpline?
The Crimson Rambler 