Woke up this morning, switched on TMS and found England all out for 58, in the morning session. NZ were already 60+ runs ahead and I’m barely awake. I still hate waking up when the cricket is half way through, having missed the first few sessions because our time is different to every body else’s. Generally there is a nasty surprise for me, thats what supporting England is all about; crushing disappointment and starting work whilst trying to see through a red mist of annoyance and what ifs.
I used to be able to listen to the cricket through the night when I was younger, in fact when the kids were still in nappies. I imagine because we both spent quite a lot of time (as all parents do) trying to get back to sleep; I might have spent equal amounts asleep and trying to get to sleep, a bridge spanning the two sides of the consciousness and the unconciousness was the cricket, probably or so i’d like to think, but i’m romanticising. The point is that when i’m in my later middle age and the kids have left home, when I spend significant time packages trotting to and fro the loo, then I hope I’ll be listening to the cricket through the night again. Maybe England will come good again at that time. Maybe our Talisman, Jimmy Anderson will still be bowling out-swinging Yorkers. Or maybe we will be forever shit in far off lands, whether I stay up all night or wake up to the friendly tones of the TMS team.
That is the beauty of cricket, as according to my rules.
If you have never listened to the cricket on the radio, specifically Test Match Special on the BBC, then give it a try; put it on in the background as you go about your daily business, listen without understanding and let the quintessential Englishness of this beautiful game fascinate and confuse you. Then when the day is done, the day’s play over you can ask your self,
“What the hell was all that about? I’d better listen tomorrow!”