A Wayside Pulpit (On The Way To Trent Bridge)

The Cricketer (rightly, surely) includes Trent Bridge in its list of the best grounds to watch Test Cricket that features in its latest edition.  But (although I admire his use of the semicolon) I’m unsure about the explanation provided for its inclusion by Sambit Bal of Cricinfo –

“Lovely walk to the ground; the openness; the swing; the multiculturalism.”  

The openness and the swing I can see.  The multiculturalism may well be in evidence for a Test Match against India or Pakistan, though less so at County matches.  But I do wonder if he knows a route to the ground that I’ve missed, or whether he might be approaching it from a different direction.

If approaching from the station, it is possible to walk to the ground alongside the canal – which is pretty enough – but the quickest route (the one you need to take if you’ve caught the 9.37 from Market Harborough and want to be there for the start of play) is through a housing estate. 

This has the – admittedly – lovely name of The Meadows, and has (or had) two pubs with the pretty names Poets’ Corner and The Riverside (Poets’ Corner is now closed, with the picture of Lord Byron that used to adorn it removed). The estate can present a jolly aspect of a sunny morning, with cricket in the offing, but in the evenings – at the close of play – it tends to be strangely deserted, apart from the odd hoodie-shrouded youth on a bicycle.

But it does look as though someone has the best interests of the estate at heart.  On approaching last week through the traditional underpass, I noticed that all the graffiti had been erased except for this –

My first thought was that the Government has decided to adopt guerrilla tactics in its War on Obesity, but, a little further on, I deduced from handwriting evidence that it is the handiwork of the local Vicar.

I particularly like “lovin’ the crap out of each other” – perhaps a loose translation of Mark : 12 :31.

I wonder whether it ever occurs to the Rev. Dave to seek a little spiritual salve (perhaps after the Sunday Soak) over the bridge from his estate, at the home of Nottinghamshire cricket?  I know I would, in his shoes.

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