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[hartsholmecc-blog]

“When you really want something, try to want it a little less..”

A lot of people seem surprised by the amount of stock that amateur sports people put into their given pursuit. The bloke who lives for Saturday to play for his pub team, the women who builds her week around her netball game and subsequent social, the cricketer who has his diary stand around the pillars of his sport for 6 months of the year (Thursdays are for training, Saturdays are dedicated to match days, Sunday games will be considered before family meals, bank holiday Mondays are for cup games).

These commitments are often sneered at by bystanders, by people who are not involved and do not hold that passion, confused as to how you could care about something that delivers no income or tangible return. It is socially acceptable to sit in the house all weekend with your family, doing nothing, socially acceptable to drive yourself into work in the pursuit of capital gains, we even applaud or at the least do not question the social habits of young men and women who go in their droves to bars all weekend to get smashed. But to live and breathe sport at an amateur level … that’s too much? You should find something that matters? We should understand that it is just a game?

I do not feel that the level at which you play should have any consequence on the level of importance apportioned to the activity, just because you are not being paid or playing for your country does not mean you should treat it any less professionally and does not mean that you should not strive to reach whatever your roof is.

The reason for these thoughts is that I think when you live in this manner, with sport being your be all and end all, you start to experience the side effects often attributed to elite sport and the professional level …

I think recently I have been suffering from a form of burn out. When a life has been charged so forcefully in one direction and that target suddenly seems to take on less importance there can be a case of a lack of identity. Whilst my every waking moment over the last three years has been focused towards HCC (however tragic that may be viewed) and that drive disappears to a certain extent I seem to find myself searching for something to fill the void. Thankfully I have a family and a son which makes the re-direction of passion an easy one (a move that some may say should have happened slightly earlier). But I believe you cannot be a person without outlets, and I think if I went 100% family man and stayed in the house 24/7 two things would happen, either I would go crazy or Milly would!

So the question is, why does burn out happen, how does it happen, and how the hell can an extremely average, amateur cricketer be experiencing some form of it; surely that’s only for the pros right?  

I want to say that this is clearly a culmination of a few things and it must include work and home life, but that just wouldn’t be true and would be shying away from the fact that historically I have put too much focus on cricket.

I do however recognise the symptoms. Being angry at everything, shouting a lot, disagreeing, tiredness, headaches etc. They ring true with the preliminary stages of depression, which I have some experience of, all be it many years ago.

Now I am not saying that I am depressed, but I also don’t shy away from issues, so if something is perhaps on the way back, then let’s mention it. I am also the kind of person that you wouldn’t notice much of a change in. Very opinionated and extremely black n’ white in nature, therefore the odd extra explosion or rant would probably go under the radar. The one noticeable change would be my love for the game, something that my closest friend Wooly picked up on straight away when I asked if he wanted a game of golf instead of training the other week (usually a sentence that would have not escaped my mouth).

The strangest thing is that this hasn’t followed form or performance, usually when I become disillusioned it is because I can’t buy a run, or we are losing - but I have had a reasonable start to the year without pulling up any trees and we have won almost everything we have played. Anything over a 20/30 odd with the a bat and I usually go home in reasonably chirpy mood, this has not been the case lately.

The reason I have pulled the phrase ‘burn-out’ out of the bag is because I read too much, have heard about it and am an extremely self indulgent know it all who would have to have an answer for everything.

I constantly try and psycho analyse everyone and give a stone wall reason for everything.

Maybe I am just tired, maybe my son is getting up earlier than usual, waking me at 4am most mornings and its having an adverse effect on other aspects of life, maybe I am now 30 going on 31 and this is the point where some people choose to stop playing, maybe 3 years of trying to have control over every aspect of the club instead of my own assigned responsibilities has caught up with me.

Ill probably never know for sure, but right now it is doing my f*cking head in!

But I have assigned a conclusion (of course I have, I think I know everything). A quote came up the other day and I thought, that’s it! That is what it is!

‘He just wanted it so bad, that he drove himself crazy’

I forget where it was from, I am sure it would have been some wanky new TV show or a hippy insightful book, but it resonated.

I have spent the last 3 years devoting every waking moment to Hartsholme Cricket Club, tried to drive selection in the correct way, tried to elevate the club to better playing levels, recruit strongly, train well, get buy in from every corner and bring cohesion of thought across the board and as a consequence put such a heavy weight of importance on my shoulders. When I probably should have been either letting others take some weight, or telling myself ‘it’s just a game’. On a personal level I have focused on averages, milestones, legacy, opinion and measured much of my outside life on how well I achieve these targets…

I have tried to do it so hard, with such passion and ferocity and with the conviction born only from the absolute knowing that you are right … that it has sent me a bit crackers. I have realised that I cannot control everything, people do not always think the same as you and not everyone takes club cricket as seriously as you do (and rightly so). In short, I just wanted it so very badly and marked my worth as a person based on how well I did. Now I don’t need to be a Psychiatrist to know that eventually that kind of model was going to get to me, and we were going to see some cracks.

I don’t apologise for this, I will probably have a moment of clarity in the near future and move on in exactly the same manner, rediscovering absolute and over powering drive. And after all, in a very compact and busy time of my life, when everything was changing (new house, new relationship, moving back to Lincoln, becoming a father, marriage, growing up) Hartsholme Cricket Club was the one constant that I could hold on to with everything I had, and for that I am extremely grateful.

It must also be said that is has taken me a very long time to work out what is going on, 3-4 weeks of being horrendous to be around and arguing with anyone that will disagree with me. I can’t imagine how bad its been for Milly! And poor old Bunny has had to deal with his fair share too. So it’s all well and good typing away saying I have had a premonition, but people have taken some punishment along the way!

But I suppose the point is, its happening everywhere. The bloke you’re chatting to may be the most spritely up beat person you know and under the surface he’s drowning. Someone might be losing it with the very thing that you think they love. And most importantly just because it is a small thing to you, you can have no idea of the level of importance that that person has put on it.

I mean for Christ sake, I LOVE cricket … I think I just want it all far too much.

Louth Away - 28/04/18

Rained off –

So it’s shit it down all night, clearly the game is going to be called … but for Christ sake, don’t call me at 7.15am to let me know! I get it … we are travelling to Louth, you want to give us as much time to not travel as possible, but pleasseee engage brain.

Well, needless to say I ignored that call and rung back at the more reasonable time of 8.45am. Bearing in mind you can’t call a game off until 10am, it is just uncalled for!

Oh well, 5 rained off points, everyone else is off too. Day off on the way!

Broughton @ Home 05/05/18

Well what a lovely deck!

After the usual routine of breakfast club and stop at the coop for water and sweets I get down to the ground. Off I go to set up the usual bits and bobs (stumps out, scorebox open, unlock changing rooms, set my gear up) and then off to have a look at the track – white, road-esq, flat. It’ll be slow and low but will be decent to bat on!

We lose the toss (shock, there’s a bit of a running joke that I can’t win a toss) and surprisingly we are put in on a flat one! I mustn’t question too much though, they could easily have seen something we haven’t! I also think its maybe to do with them skittling Rasen the week before and fancying putting some early pressure on us.

Aj and Green open up reasonably safely and get through the first few overs without incident.

Greeny goes back and across to a straight one and is standing in front of all three as Broughton go up … F*ck off that’s out!

Aj slowly continues whilst young Sam Mason blazes a reasonably quick 18 before being caught at 1st slip to their resident grabber Mr N. Simpson … bloody good catch tbf!

In I wander at 4 …

1st ball, medium pacer, short and wide … eyes light up … ‘shit it’s not bounced’ … and its jagged a tad (avg ball, just shite execution) it clips the plastic on my top thumb and goes through to the keeper. Keep your head down, take guard … wow … the keeper and slip haven’t gone up (everyone else is appealing like mad) … NOT OUT. Oh you bloody hero.

Square leg umpire asks me ‘did you hit it’, ‘nope, no I did not’ … he doesn’t need to know it clipped my glove though.

Needless to say I get a few comments around the sounds of ‘you cheating bastard’ etc. but Hey ho, that’s a goldy dodged.

Couple of nice shots … get to the drinks break and say the immortal words to AJ … ‘he bowls too slow, he’ll get me out’ … I then walk back to the crease chatting to their slipper … chatting about slip catches … what happens first ball I face after drinks … snick the slow bowler to first slip.

What a twat! Given it away.

Off I wander, and watch the rest of the game whilst lapping continuously with Sven.

Aj goes on to register his first Hartsholme 1st XI 50 and looks assured throughout, eventually falling to a shit shot for 56. I did like his mentality though, self-talking, confident, visualising and telling me more than once that he was going to bat through and be the anchor. We filmed his 50 and you can just about hear Sven calling him a creep as he raises his bat, so much love.

Wooly is going along nicely by now, he has a dolly dropped off him on about 8 or 9 but bloody hell he makes them pay. Going on to score an aggressive and quick 115*. We were just about to film his 100, but then on 98 he ran poor Lucas Cooling out whilst on 42. 100% sold down the river.

Wooly has been serenely knocking the ball around throughout the 80s and 90s … no rush … in total control, 100 a certainty. Gets to 98 … drills one to deep long off … ‘TWO’ … now anyone else sends him back, but Lucas is young and has the tendency to be a bit simple at times (add to not wanting to run someone out on 98) so he takes it on … OUT BY A MILE!

The best thing about this whole saga, by tea Wool has convinced Lucas that it was his fault … AMAZING!

We finally finish on 272-6. A score which I would describe as ‘enough’.

The return innings was a bit of a non-event and the visitors were bowled out for 131. Everyone shared the wickets around and it was a very nice performance from the bowlers.

Sven got a bit of tap and wasn’t happy when I pulled him after two overs, but he came back nicely and all was right in the world.

The best moment was Thorpey getting hacked at by their number 4, a nice lad who seemed chirpy and up for it. Well needless to say that Bob thought he was a total ****. He did not appreciate being smeared across the line and all the continued playing and missing.

When the bat finally got out for an entertaining 59 Bobby gave him a big send off, to which the batsmen advised him to stop getting pissed off when bowling sh*t, you fat f*cker … or something similar anyway.

All very strange … but I can’t talk! I would fight my own shadow.

When coming back for his second spell and taking the final wicket Bobby decided to get his stomach out and wobble it at the onlookers. Fair one!

20 points, good day and a good set of lads to play against, probably the nicest of the ‘North Lincs’ sides to come up against (not a hard award to win that one though).

 Lindum @ Home – George Marshall 1st Round 07/05/18

What do you think of Lindum?!

Set of C*nts! That’s what I think!

Nah, only joking, they are all right, and actually have a reasonably nice set of lads. I’ll get lynched at HCC for saying that.

But being our closest neighbours, and the posh boys up the hill, in contrast to our inner city mob, they can still f*ck right off!

So quick match summary! They got 223-8 and their overseas pro, a really nice young lad it turns out, scored 146* of them! That’s it, I may as well not put anything else, that’s the game right there. The headline would be, 1 man team beats Hartsholme XI. Bitter? No, just honest.

F*ck me he batted well though! Serious timer of a cricket ball. Some of his flicks off the seamers were timed brilliantly, he also took the short boundary apart, making it look even more destructive.

It was unfortunate that we lost the toss. A hot day, a road, a short boundary … and we’re stuck in.

All of the bowlers went well though, with Jay being the pick getting 4fer not many.  Bertie bowled good tight one-day lines with a changeup of balls, Bob got through all of his 9 in one spell and wasn’t costly, Rik looked after the short boundary well and always looked penetrating, Sven was economical, Birky ran his tits off and closed at the death well.

But their pro spanked it, can’t say much more than that.

The crying shame was that we dropped him on 70 odd.  Relatively easy high catch at cow that cost us.

The one strange thing that happened, after this lad had got to end of his innings and was jogging off, I went to shake his hand and say well batted … he looked at me … ignored it and sprinted off. Either it was lost in translation, i.e.. In NZ they don’t say well don’t to each other, or he thought I was a prick and wanted to bin me off. Probably the latter.

But odd none the less; especially the way he sprinted off leaving his batting partner behind. I wish I could just call him a prick, but he seemed really nice when chatting later!

In our response we lost our two openers early. Bringing myself and Wooly to the crease. The honest truth of it was that if we were going to knock them off then the bulk would have to come in this partnership. We managed to add around 120 before Wooly spanked one to midwicket (and I mean crunched it) and one of their old boys took a worldy (Lindum C*nt).

I plodded along to get a scratchy 41. I absolutely love batting with Wool, obviously he is my best mate, and we have played together since the age of about 14, but it goes beyond that.

We completely complement each other, he has all the ability in the world but struggles to graft it out when he’s not in form, I have zero ability and have to doggedly eek/nurdle every run before I’m ‘in’. I have said it many times, but if only you could put my head and mentality on his shoulders … what a player.

The usual reaction is to get angry at talented players because they can’t do the simple (to some people) thing of engaging their brain. But the talented ones must also stand at the other end watching the nurdlers, screaming in their heads as to why we can’t just spank one to relieve pressure. I suppose the easy answer is, if either side of the coin had both then they would probably ‘make it’, therefore the local leagues are full of one or the other.

The match continued right until the end and I had to stand along the short square boundary with only a couple of people; I think if I had been anywhere near the crowd then I wouldn’t have been able to deal with the nerves of it all.

We were unfortunate, always up with the rate, and only needing 23 off the last 5. But eventually we ran out of wickets.

All in all, beaten by the better man (not team … w*nkers)

Free week - 12/05/18

Myself, Wool, Sven & Green have entered into a tough mudder, great fun … it was wet and muddy …

Evening – joined by a few more, Bierkeller … messy and loud!

I stayed at Bobbys so that I didn’t puke all over our spare room again. All I can say was that the service was top drawer. His Mrs, the lovely Soph, provided food and coffee in abundance. How the big lad is a grumpy bastard when he is waited on so excellently, I do not know!

Spoilt little shit!

Cherry @ Home 19/05/18

My anger is really starting to show case itself now, I am insufferable and taking it out on anyone and anything, as well as just looking and acting angrily.

The main sighter of this included; having the ball thrown at the stumps and it deflecting off my heel.

Well - I decide to run through for a second, but the ball is called dead by the umpire.

I got a little too mad at this. Firstly, I have to say it and I’m sorry that I just can’t stop myself being a prick, but … I was right … it should have been allowed.

I am sure it is not the sporting thing to do and I probably looked a right cock, especially seeing as we were 250-3 at the time, but … I was right. Head down, going for ground, didn’t adjust my line, didn’t look at the ball … the fielder decides to throw, it hits me. The umpire tried to avoid discussing but me being in a horrid mood decided to argue and spit my dummy out. He then went on to say I had obstructed the field, and even though I am sure he was just saying this to shut me up and his real reason was I was being a twat, if that had actually been the case his choice would have been to give me out. Terribly geeky, but give me out or let me run … then call me an unsporting wanker afterwards … hey ho.

Long and short I didn’t cover myself in glory and banged on about it for another half an hour … to the point where Wooly, who was batting with me at the time, left me chuntering in the middle of the track.

So anyway, Cherry come to visit … always a great set of lads! I do think I maybe ruined their day when the coined landed and we chose to bat on a road, in the baking sun. But no way can you bowl on a day like that … in Bobbys words ‘I think I’d have got in the car and left if you’d bowled’.

Well, we racked up 273-3 … so it was a bit of a brutal day.

A lovely opening partnership of 103 between Browny and Greeny. Greeny eventually falling for 38 to a bit of a rats hack off of their spinner; he walked off knowing that he had missed out on a big one.

Sam followed him pretty quickly, caught behind, pushing at one back of a length and outside off.

So in I went, turgid, sticky, not fluent at all. But thankfully one of my few abilities is to graft runs when out of form, so I finished with 45no at a pretty boring 81% strike rate (I’m aware, I’m a tragic for knowing that).

All the while Browny is going well at the other end. Admittedly he had 2 or 3 real dollys go down, but none the less got himself to 98, and considering this was his first game back of the season following ear surgery … good bloody effort. Unlucky to have got out on 98 but he was knackered by this point and played around a reasonably straight one, probably hitting leg and middle half way up. Deserved of a sit down though and he went on to field at 3rd man for most of the match due to the shade available!

Wooly came in after him and finished on 44no, he found it equally tough to really get going and kept smashing the ball to fieders, but it says a lot about his batting style that he still managed to score at better than run a ball!

At one point early in his innings he drilled a half volley through the covers and a young fielder exclaimed ‘what the f*ck is he doing coming in at 5!’ … our reply, ‘he used to bat at 6’. They had had a long and hot day, and the sight of our best bat coming in when they should have been making headway was clearly disparaging.

The bowling side of things held some reasonably frustrating moments.

Poor Bertie and Bob … back of a length, nipping a touch = play and miss, play and miss, play and miss.

Berties figures were, 4 overs, 3 maidens, 3 runs.

Rik came on and bowled excellently, he made a breakthrough but also had some bad luck; 12 of the 17 runs he went for coming through 1st & 4th slip in the same over.

Rik and Birkey both realised the need to chop and change and volunteered to end their own spells … a luxury at times for a captain, if done for the right reasons, which they were.

All in all, a good day, even when setting a big score that probably won’t be chased there is always a slight eye on ensuring we get 10 wickets quickly and take the full 20 points.

OH ALMOST FORGOT! I played a reverse dab sweep for three … oh my lord it was sex (I’ll get fined for that)

2nd in the league – 8 points behind 1st with 2 games in hand. Red, Gold & Green.

[hartsholmecc-blog]

“Effort is the best indicator of interest...”

Committee Meeting

Only thing I really want to mention here is that our Chairman fell asleep and missed it. I give him a bell at 7.03pm and get the response:

‘Boz … oh shit, I forgot, when are you starting’ …‘now David, now’… ‘Oh shit sorry mate, totally forgot and now Tina is out with the car!’

Bunny also missing, the eagerness to spend some money whilst the holder of the purse strings is absent is eagerly sensed by all. Fortunately sense wins the day and not a penny is parted with.

Winter nets – x2

All in all a pretty piss poor end to the winter nets side of things.

First of all we were cancelled due to the school being closed for half term. Then the amount of snow received meant that they called us off for health and safety reasons. This pretty much lead us up to the outdoor season so we decided to call it a day.

Cricket Force weekend

Total waste of time. No one attended, we dicked about and achieved nothing. Myself and Sven played a ‘one hand one bounce’ test match … THE END.

(N.B. Told Milly it was really busy so that I could stay and finish our game)

Airport run (Operation ‘Collect Bertie’)

Nothing to write home about; no traffic so we got there about 2 hours early and had a beer.

Got Bertie without incident. On the way home AJ proceeded to bore the shit out of our new arrival by telling him about his grandfather’s lettuce epidemic of 2015. Oh and he also asked him if his Mohawk style hair cut took much upkeep/product. So cringe, I don’t know what he must have thought of us! Hopefully my dad’s Skoda estate added a bit of class to the whole day …

I am just glad I was driving.

Summer nets – x2

Subsequently, following on from the weak end to indoor nets, we are not yet able to get out due to rain! Absolute monsoon and the outfield is totally unworkable. However as I write it is thankfully early 20’s outside with a clear sky, so training tonight! Off we go!

First outdoor net

Out we go!

We are trying to impress our new overseas, so the turn out is good … he probably thinks it crap!

Decent level of fielding drills followed by nets.

No-one wants to bat because Bertie is here. I eventually go in, and even off 2 yards he’s sharp! Lucas eventually has a hit and he gets bounced … priceless.

Bring on Saturday! Pray for a dry day!

Match 1 – 21/04/2018

It is finally here. After all this rain, all that snow, weekend after weekend of pissing Milly off, I get to play cricket!

And what a game to have, in all likely hood a clash between eventual 1st and 2nd … with only 1 promotion spot available due to a league re-jig.

Moist, erect, tingling … I AM ALL THAT AND THEN SOME!!!!

Wake up – Run around the house a bit shouting:

‘it’s cricket day, its cricket day … IT’S A CRICKET DAY!!!!’

I then have to spend half an hour sorting my kit bag out again and ensuring I have every bit of equipment/painkillers/tape/towels/clothing/glasses etc. etc. ready before Wooly gets here to pick me up.

When he arrives I am already stood outside in the sunshine waiting patiently (unable to stand still with excitement) on my drive way, next to all my gear.

Next stop, Browny. The old boy is currently laid off due to an ear operation but is still coming along for the ride to avoid another day of housebound boredom. He walks out of the door and I call him a bean head (his cap is perched oddly on top of his balding bonce) … this does not go down well! Absolute face on, and he barely talks for the remainder of the trip … bore off you old bastard!

Off we go to breakfast club (10.30am meet at Frankie & Bennys), where Bobby is already patiently waiting. Order – Bob gets the whole menu delivered, whilst the more human of us grab a coffee, breakfast and juice.

We get to Cleethorpes 10 minutes late and quickly change. Bertie seems quite geeded up for his first league encounter and warms up with gusto!

Quick kick about, I am woeful as per usual, and then pair up to have a hit.

Our warm up is quite relaxed and basic, this is because we have endured years of trying to get everyone involved, as well as ensuring the unfit aren’t knackered by start time. My Theory, our weakness is often batting, so all 11 need to have a hit prior to the game. Fielding, well if you are shit at fielding then a quick triangle drill isn’t going to solve things. In fact it usually just makes everything worse! One miss field or drop in the warm up and out you go with low confidence. Bowling and fielding … well you’re all big boys, do what you feel you need to do.

I get to the toss and am greeted politely. I have already had a look and have set my head on batting first.

I get a few funny looks at this decision, what with it being a green seamer and mid-April.

The decision comes from two places; firstly I had a chat with our groundsman mid-week. He told me not to be fooled by the hard look of the pitch, it will have a few centimetres crust on it and below that will be soaking wet, therefore I think … ‘take advantage of the deck whilst it holds together, it’s only going to get worse’. Secondly without Browny in the side and with our overseas being a fast bowler, I feel our weakness out of the two facets is batting – and I would always rather put the pressure (second innings) on our strongest suit.

Their skipper comes out without a coin and turns to go back and get one. I shout after him knowing that he will want to bowl, indicate that I want to bat … we shake hands and walk off, no toss needed.

Order – AJ, Jay, Sam, Boz, Wool, Bertie, Lucas, Reg, Bob, Birky, Sven.

Quick rouse of the troops, tell them to enjoy themselves and chill out. I reckon (I know) I can be a bit too intense at times in team talks so try and rectify this early in the season.

Well …. What a fu*king shit start!!!!!!! Set of BASTARDS!!!!! I wish I had gone all Churchill, guns and rockets now!

Aj and Jay get us underway without incident, until we are about 9-0.

Aj goes back to a fullish (He’ll hate me for saying that) ball, that squares him up a tad and hits him on the back pad (he insists it was going over but now the moments passed, I’m afraid you’re in the minority there buddy!) Slow, low deck … fuck off that’s out!

Jay then inside edges a drive to the keeper. Not the world’s worse dismissal and you can tell he wanted to feel bat on ball, but the blokes a grinder so he will be pissed off.

Sam then snicks to the keeper with hard hands. Always gna be a tough day. He’ll come into his own when the tracks harden up a bit.

Me and Wooly at the crease, I make a little joke about us having played together since we were 14, 2nd or 3rd ball he snicks behind. Not a terrible shot, but it didn’t do much either. Put that down to early season rust. I must also mention that I almost turned down a blatant single behind point on his first ball … because I was sat on my bat. Only fair to highlight when I’m shit too I suppose.

So - 16-4 … I’m on 0 and in walks Bertie to play his first knock in England since early 2016. Up shit street to say the least.

Well … Bertie can bat.

The 12 runs he proceeded to get may not set the scorebook alight, but as we suspected, he shapes up very well. I think it was about the 3rd ball he faced and he had dismissed their best bowler one bounce 4 over mid-off.

Bertie misses an incredibly slow out swinger and I feel sorry for the bloke, it must be weird coming from first class cricket in a hot country and suddenly being faced with a seamer who bowls the pace of an offie, on a slow, damp, green top.

So 30-5 and we’re really up shit street now. The thing that comes into my head is Scunny at home, 2016 – All Out for 30 odd. Please God not again.

In the meantime I have signalled for Thorpey to jump the order to 7, would rather an adult in this situation than a youth.

But then the repair job starts. I don’t have many talents, but blocking the shit out of medium pacers when we are in trouble is one of them. I am a stubborn bastard and this is just my type of problem. On a road needing 5 per over, get Wooly in, but bit of heart and guts needed and I seem to enjoy it.

The Cleethorpes chavs are starting to pipe up now. Few words here and there but nothing major. Their Ozzie overseas (who is clearly a 1st teamer, named in their 1s this week btw, but playing 2s due to no game - ringing bastard) gives me a mouthful including the C word when I look to take a quick single.

Serene smile back, don’t get involved, don’t get riled …

Next ball = short and wide … result cut for four …

‘Well that was a shit ball wasn’t it you C*NT’ … as I run past him … oops!

Thorpey smashes a couple of overs and the game calms down. Up to around 60-5 at drinks and the storm is partially weathered.

My wife turns up with my son … I wave and wave and wave but they continue to stare around without a clue; making me look a right knob.

First over after drinks … Thorpey is bounced out by a 14yo … bless.

Then our kids step up!

Lucas and Reg contribute about 30 odd between them and offer a full amount of heart. Reg, who is playing his first ever 1s game bats for a serious amount of time and follows instructions superbly.

The idiots in the field are by now well into their flow. Not passing comment at me, but giving a barrage to the 18yo and 17yo. Total pea hearts.

At one point I get annoyed at this and suggest that they aim their abuse towards the 6ft 3in, 30 year old stood at the non-strikers end.

It would be fair to say that my blood was slightly up by this point and I felt inclined to protect our kids who were doing a great job in a high pressure situation … oh, and maybe I used slightly different language to get my point across as well …  

Eventually we end on 137-8, I get out for 46, holing to mid-off with 7 overs remaining. Browny smugly summarises that it was a brain dead shot considering the time left in the game … twatty comment but completely fair, it was a bad shot! You ear operation know it all!

After getting out I was in quite a mood (1 helmet and 1 bat launched). But after a chat with Jay I calm down.

Team talk at half way goes something like this,

‘That was piss poor …. It didn’t move all day … we showed no heart … gave our wickets away … I don’t care if someone is shit, but they better bloody well try … rectify it in the field’

I started very calmly and slowly worked myself up … the crescendo being when Lucas decided to have a conversation with Reg half way through …. I informed Lucas politely that this was not the done thing ….

Well something like that anyway …

Off I wandered to smash some tea … always a delight at Cleethorpes I may add!

Well my head loss seemed to bloody well work!

First of all, Bertie bowls FAST.

Is was a soggy deck that got worse and worse as the day went on, but I have never stood at slip and been so scared of losing my teeth. At one point when the bat played and missed, Bob (1st Slip) whispered to me and Wooly (2nd & keeper), I think I just shit myself.

Wooly had an IMPOSSIBLE job. Stand too close and you might lose your face, stand too far back and the ball will skid through and may not carry. My favourite point was when Bertie asks Wool, ‘what is wrong with your gloves, you are not catching them?!’

AMAZING

Well anyway Bertie is going to be lightening on a hard flat one, and I think the main benefactor will be his opening partner Thorpey!

Bertie bowls 6 overs, and they can’t get him away. At one point their opener even try’s to track him, brain dead. They clearly land on the tactic of trying to see him off.

Well this very much helps Bobby … figures of 7-25 follow. They try and work him, LBW, they try and flick him and miss straight ones, they try and attack him and they miss. Everything that could have gone right did. He also benefits from the bowler friendly cloud cover and a bit of rain (lovely decision to bat) and he is decking it around all over the place. Something the opposition rarely did.

There was perhaps one part where they started to get a foothold, but Sven came on and broke that partnerships with his standard; toss one up, bowl a quicker one routine.

Bob gets 7-25 … Bertie, Birky and Sven all get 1 for not many.

I have never been happier on a cricket field.

Considering the opposition and the importance of the game …. Add in that we were 16-4 and 30-5 … that was a proper, proper win!

What a way to get the season started. Few drinks down the club. It’s always a shitter when you don’t get back to the shed until 9pm though!

Oh and add to that! The seconds! Get this! Bowled out for 60 …. AND WON!

Obviously I wasn’t there so can’t comment at length but the retired Chairman took 5-8! And Mango scored 40 odd of our 60 … brilliant scenes.

What would the odds have been at tea of both sides winning?

Oh captain, my captain

There are many people who give their lives to cricket, turn up every day and tend to the ground, throw balls for the youth of a club or look after the administration year in year out. Every club has them and every child has somebody who they look up to without question, the person that is responsible for their passion and the reason they got hooked on the sport we love. They may exist everywhere, everyone I speak to may know one, but it does not mean that the individual that meant so much to you is any less rare or special.

This person to me, and my youth, recently passed away.

I am usually quite cut-throat about death, I don’t really give it much time and I certainly don’t get upset by it. Very much of the, well it happens, let’s get on with it sort of school. But when I read on Facebook (where else) that Vic Newman had passed it hit me a lot harder than I expected it too.

In a way I was slightly embarrassed that I could be so upset to lose someone who was not family to me and had not been a huge part of my life for the last 10 years. I tried to hide it from Milly and generally just told myself off for being sad. But eventually I concluded that it clearly just summed up what a huge role he played whilst I was growing up

Vic was a giant of a man, Bracebridge Heath’s groundsman, club legend and stalwart and a hell of a player back in the day for Claytons. For any HCC member that didn’t have the good fortune of meeting him, I will try to paint you a picture.

Take Nick Wilkinson’s playing record, Ian Dovey’s commitment to the youth set-up, Gary Suttons groundsman hours and Adrian Bunns time behind a desk looking after administration … put it all together, and you have an idea of what this man contributed to his club.

I was a cricketer at BBH from 11 years old until 18 and he was the first person I met when I went down to my first training session. He welcomed me and pushed me on my way.

Over the years he substituted the position of a grandfather (mine both lost by age 11) and the hours upon hours I spent in his company made him feel more like family to me than a cricketing friend.

From showing me how to put the covers on correctly, lifting the drainage pipes up and over, ensuring the flaps were down, to hours upon hours of working with me in the nets, to letting me help with the mowing and rolling …  Vic taught me exactly what it was to play cricket and be a part of a club.

He did not require talent or skill, only hard work. Vic was a man for the cricket lover, in an age when people were ever increasingly only interested in the children who may ‘make it’. This struck home to me; I was never the most talented, not particularly special, but constantly made to feel as though I belonged and could reach MY potential.

My favourite memory of Vic was when he realised that I was backing away from fast bowling. He proceeded to get people to bowl fast at me whilst he stood with a broom handle through the netting, placed in my lower back. I don’t back away anymore.

Vic Newman summed up everything that is so perfect about cricket, and everything that cannot be replicated in other sports. The ability to have a good friend who is from a completely different generation, the need for countless hours of dedication to be put in to your passion, the requirement for heart and drive above all other strengths.

I have absolutely no doubt in saying that without this man I would not have the sport I love so much, and would not have grown up with some of the stubborn tendencies that are so visible within my personality. Save for my parents, he was the greatest influence of my teenage years. I dread to think the number of kids he coached/helped and who thought of him just as highly as I. I hope he knew how much of a difference he made.

I know there are many out there who provided clubs and kids with the same level of support and care … but he did that for me, and I will miss him very much.

[hartsholmecc-blog]

“Life is too short to be cool…”

So … When it comes to sport … How sad is sad … and what are the acceptable levels of geekiness & obsession before you become a busy wanker and everyone thinks you’re a tool.

I personally feel I am seriously flirting with the boundaries of this at the moment. It’s all well and good to love your sport and chuck your heart and soul into it. But that quickly borders on the obsessive and can quite easily rub people up the wrong way.

I have always tried to use this as a captaining technique; hopefully people see your passion and drive and therefore follow more readily. But if you’re a boring twat with an unhealthy obsession, I can imagine it would also start to do the opposite and push people away too.

Don’t get me wrong I don’t think we’re quite there yet. But it’s an interesting notion none the less.

The thing that triggered my thinking was a recent purchase that I made, and the obvious piss taking I received as a consequence.

I am also very aware that if I am prepared to share my views on others actions and criticise their decisions/behaviours, then it is only fair that I don’t hold anything back on my own frailties and embarrassments too! Let’s try not to be too biased and hypocritical …

So I was sat in my man room … cricket themed obviously …

(HCC canvasses adorn the walls, a Tele placed front and centre so as Milly doesn’t have to put up with any cricket being watched in the lounge, a large sofa, a couple of cricket balls on the floor etc. etc. It’s so solely focused that my 2 year old calls it “cricket room”)

In the corner are all of my trophy’s, aligned anally upon little corner shelves (I know, I’m a 30 year old man, who displays his cricket trophies front and centre in, what basically equates to, his play room … it gets worse).

Well, it has been a long term gripe of mine that my collection isn’t complete;

Hartsholme CC doesn’t provide small keep sake trophies/medallions/shields when they give an award. They give the award out at presentation evening, name engraved on it, you keep it for a year and then give it back. Pretty standard, not the worst thing in the world, but slightly stingy (in my humble view of course).

Now … sat there in my man room, a couple of drinks down and thinking that this needs rectifying, can you have a guess at what I did. (Again, ill remind everyone that I’m a 30 year old man, a father, married, living in my own house, with an adult job).

Well … I ordered my own keep sake trophies on the internet … and had them engraved with the award/date/name etc. (I’m sorry!!!)

Now, in my own mind I was merely righting a wrong that has been occurring over the last couple of decades. As well as evening out the terrible imbalance created in my weird obsessive compulsive mind and completing an unsatisfactory display.

You know what, I don’t think anyone would even disagree with me that they should be handed out in the first place. Nor would anyone begrudge us ensuring they are given out in the future. But my god they would think it was odd to supply yourself with your own trophies.

When you put it in black and white and simplify it, what I have effectively done is … BUY AND ENGRAVE MY OWN TROPHIES!

Fuck me it sounds sad when you say it like that.

In my defence, they were about £2.80 each, with about £3 chucked on for delivery, and as I was only missing 4 it cost around the £16/£17 mark.

They are very basic, little keep sakes and I shouldn’t have had to do it in the first place, but I agree … it’s an inexcusably depressing thing to do.

Of course my personality means that I find this kind of weirdness hilarious. So I had to immediately share what I had done with people.

At first I only told Bob and Sven, which resulted in taking the appropriate amount of abuse. Bob just found it hilarious at how sad I had been … but Sven … I think he genuinely felt sorry and embarrassed for me, the obvious pity in his texts being laced through every line. It was almost as if he didn’t want to talk about what a massive loser I was!

I then told the HCC group, a couple of other cricket mates, and finally brought it up at selection committee. The funniest reaction being Phillo’s (serious player back in the day) “fuck me, I don’t think I’d be able to even get all of mine out on display” … this is the cricketing equivalent of standing next to someone in the shower with your massive dick swinging away next to his tiny todger.

Emasculated to say the least.

General consensus … yes we definitely need to provide keep sakes considering how cheap they are … however I am now the biggest bell-end going for back dating trophies and buying my own …

Fair I would say …. But I don’t regret it for a minute!

The conversation of being too keen, too observant and all together a bit of a complete spud, cropped up again not long after.

Upon completion of the new club handbook, Bob had sent it over to me for a proof read (decent book btw! Does just what it should). I had a quick whip through and said it was great.

Well after they had been handed out and I had my own copy I gave it a proper read. I had missed a couple of bits (Bob was fuming), but nothing major (The chairman’s welcome was not allowed to be proof read! So those errors have nothing to do with me … My Captains welcome was, however, a work of art!).

The one thing I did pick up on though … it had so CLEARLY been composed by a bowler. The reason being that no batsman would have ever listed people who had scored 50-80 runs for the season in the batting stats … they would have ensured that minimum qualification applied and cut out all the high averages who have batted about twice. A Bowlers view, “nope! In they go gents!”

I of course messaged Bob this little observation, finding myself hilarious whilst doing so, and he wound up tighter than a spring in no time!

He gave me a couple of bullshit reasons like ‘filling space’ but eventually just highlighted how sad it was that I noticed …

“Also you will be the only person that brings this up – 100% - unless you get in someone’s ear’

Well … “someone’s ear” … listen up! I find it nicely convenient that the big man scored 80 odd 1st team runs in 4 innings batting at 8/9 or 10 and gets himself in the averages ;) … nicely done Bobby

But again, jokes aside, it does highlight my need to obsessively chuck myself into something, reading it multiple times and checking tiny details. Then once I’ve checked them I just HAVE to bring them to the surface, whether in jest or not, it’s all a bit sad isn’t it!?

So … am I bordering on the obsessive? Do I need to take a step back? The fact that I am writing a cricketing diary would probably indicate that I do …

So keep tabs on me … bring me back from the edge should I need it … but most of all, pity me, as I don’t think I can ever change.

Feedback from last entry

Well … thank god I have a tough skin. Discussing legends was definitely a touchy subject to a few!

The general consensus was that I was pretty much spot on (well clearly).

However it was generally agreed that I was only correct based on my personal assumptions/definitions of the word legend.

Other people had different definitions and therefore slightly differing answers. Far enough … I can agree with that, and I can see their points of view. The really annoying people however are those who get aggravated by a certain opinion and just cannot see that it is totally based on a personal interpretation of an individual word, so everything around it is biased and has numerous caveats attached.

All you have to do is alter the definition, explain your reasoning, give your answers … and you are also correct!

Oh well, simple people can often struggle with matters based on fluid opinion and changing goal post … the anger descends and they can’t see the wood for the trees.

We’ll maybe have to return to this at a later date, just to rock the boat again!

04/03 – Initial Selection meeting

So it’s over a month until the first game … and Bunny calls a selection meeting…

What ... a … twat!

In attendance – Myself, Bobby, Phillo, Bunny & TP (Can’t believe he turned up, and on time! hates punctuality that lad).

To be honest, I am not in the mood, and can see my Sunday evening being totally wasted!

The reasons he stated were to talk us through the rule changes and to discuss where we are at with player numbers.

Well I can write a list of names at home, and you could talk me through the rule changes the week before the season starts … not a month out!

Or … I could just read the sodding things … oh wait, I have, because I’m a sad fucker.

Then, to add insult to my already foul mood, he sits down and says ‘oh, did I call this meeting’. Yes Adrian … yes, you fucking did.

Anyway, after he has talked through the rule changes and summarised peoples disdain with having to be there we learn (as we already knew) that they basically just equate to ‘make sure you’re not a dick head, or you will get punished’ … enlightening

And the squad situation ‘isn’t terrible but could be better’.

Well that was worthwhile … let’s leave the next one until the week before we have a game maybe …

And they say that I’m keen!!

10/03 – Winter Nets

What a turn out!

I 100% guarantee that this will be the most heavily attended net of the winter, possibly even the summer. Both nets full … people doing fielding drills … and even a new player to train!

We even had the old stallion Jay-bone turn up! Bad back ‘n all! He didn’t look like he’d missed a beat through injury and immediately dropped his floaty drifters on a length and shaped up nicely when batting. (Probably with another new stick, the blokes obsessed).

The new lad looks like he’ll come back and would be a decent addition, which is good news as we really need it following selection. And to be fair, he was meant to just show his face and be polite, as he had to run off and fit a cooker half way through! But ended up netting for an hour! Decent commitment there young man!

Recruitment as a whole has been a nightmare this winter. What with the issues surrounding the overseas players everyone seems to have been focusing hard on recruiting locally … but they don’t seem to be out there! What with failing numbers in involvement and a lack of youth coming through the whole sport seems to be taking a real hit.

My tactic … keep what you have got!

Whilst other people are trying to coax very average players out of their current clubs for false promises and in some cases cash, I reckon that we are better served keeping hold of those already loyal to us.

If we went into the season with last year’s team plus a ridiculous overseas, we should go up! If we don’t then there’s no one else to blame but ourselves.

After chatting with a couple of opposing captains it seems that everyone is in the same boat … so may the best club win.

10/03 – Quiz Night

Firstly, we nearly won!

Secondly, we were the top of the cricket teams!

Thirdly, Wooly & Aj’s team couldn’t answer ‘how many teams are in the T20 Blast this year’ … come on lads! Just count the counties!

It was seriously well attended, not that I’m surprised as Nick always does a good job at the shed getting the locals in. But there were a lot of cricketers there too!

Our team consisted of Bosworth x2, Thorpe x2, Lewy & Phil Brown.

We called ourselves something shit and not funny through panic, and then as soon as we had submitted our name realised that we should have called ourselves ‘Philma Brown’ … gutted and the usage of an anal pun totally missed! 

In all honesty if I hadn’t bottled a couple of answers then we would have won, and didn’t Thorpey tell me about it!

Saying the correct answers then second guessing yourself is piss poor and I won’t forgive myself for a while! Those boxes of Corona were ripe for the taking!

Sven came bottom and won free shots, so he was happy!

The best thing that came out of it was my old mate ‘Pumba’ (all I’ll say is, he isn’t a small bloke) attending. He was shoved in Woollys team and after they had plied him with a few Guinness’ got him to agree to be our season mascot.

We are going to take the lad out on the town, dressed as the Hartsholme lion … I cannot wait!!!!

Milly got excited that there was nearly a fight between two women! …

And then we went home, the perils of having to relieve the babysitters! 

18/03 – Winter Nets

Poor turn out but it was quite useful to those who attended.

The only real thing of interest; I wore one on the foot and now have three black toes.

I basically missed the slowest yorker ever delivered, played way too early, and round it. Fuck me it hurt though! Bob, deliverer of said ball, found it absolutely hilarious! I did very well not to lose my head and give him the nibble he was craving for. The only saving grace was that Sven received the exact same delivery about half an hour later, with the same result. As Browny described ‘he jumped about and rolled around on the floor with some serious style’.

I have also finally found someone with a strong enough arm to mimic a quick seamer!

JT throwing onto the catch-it, FUK ME SIDEWAYS, that thing flew.

Sore hands and a few calluses coming, and trust me, it has to be from the catching because I am about the least practical man around.

Individual prices are also out for the coming season of the HCC fantasy league. Thankfully I have gone up, which helps my ego of course.

Some, however, have gone down…

Quote of the day –

(Bosworth to Brown) … ‘You’re the same price as Thorpey now’

(Brown in response) … ‘Fuck me, well that’s a reason to retire right there!’

[hartsholmecc-blog]

“Heroes come and go but legends are forever...”

So it snowed … which meant no training and barely anything else cricket related to write about.

Well for the normal cricket aficionado that may be true, but for someone as tragic as me … the wheel keeps turning.  

So with too much snowed in time on my hands, my brain was ticking and the subject of ‘Legends’ came up … again … and again; and more specifically, whether the term is overused/what qualifies someone to be deserving of this moniker.

(The legendary HCC side of the 70’s/80s)

So it first reared its head whilst going hard in a Facebook argument with the clubs resident coach & keyboard warrior, Ash ‘in my day’ Boothright.

He, in his typically modest way, decided to label himself a legend, whilst I disagreed, obviously, going the other way to try and offend him and win the current slanging match.

After I had had my play, I stated that Ash was more a club stalwart and not a legend, due to time served. Fair and unbiased I feel! But a subtle difference none the less.

Belly then dived in and proceeded to call himself a ‘very good’ club player, which I also took umbrage too. I believe Belly, and myself for that matter, are the most average of average club players. Bearing in mind we do not set alight our own leagues and Lincolnshire is a very weak cricketing county at the best of times. Ok it’s not calling yourself a legend, but it is self-labelling none the less.

Well, a debate then ensued and I offended pretty much everyone whilst trying to explain my point.

I quite simply find it fascinating that people place so much importance on how they are viewed in local cricket and subsequently the passion and anger that can be seen during a heated discussion/difference of opinion.  

But what does make a club legend? It seems all the more important to be considered one when you have retired and merely turn up to watch? Or is that just me being cynical?

Is it stats related? Is it time related and therefore dependent on years of service? Is it loyalty related? Or is it just open to interpretation? Well clearly the latter, but hopefully you get my point, it is quite the grey area.

My own views … there must be two lists.

One list that consists of weight of run’s/wickets/achievements and one list that is made up of club contributions/stalwarts.

One of these lists is pretty easy to compile, has less room for opinion and is therefore surely more accurate? There is a reason people love things like stats books, because they can rank themselves and show proof that they were excellent. However there is also a reason people hate them, as they show how shit you were and how much bull-shit you talk.

The most annoying thing I find from previous players is their ability to remember only the good times, and somehow slowly get better and better the more years out of the game they have had. Just to clarify this is not a volley at Ash who due to ferocity of debate leaves himself open to criticism, more a general irritation of most ex-sportsmen (amateur) who are post 50 odd. It is almost a continuance of the ‘if it hadn’t been for my knee I’d have played professionally’ argument.

(Although saying that, Ash is my favourite abuser of this habit … ‘what a shit shot that was, id have played it like this’ … shut up mate, you’ve never played that shot in your life. Do you not remember that we played together?)

I think how you react in retirement/later career massively depends on your personality / insecurities. For example I can’t remember Pete Mason (Ex-captain and club legend without doubt) ever telling me how he would have done something, maybe because he doesn’t have to prove himself; just offering chat as opposed to opinion. And as opinionated as Nick Wilkinson is (clubs leading run scorer) I can’t remember him telling me what he’d have done differently at any point.

I myself seem to lean towards the ‘I was shit’ … ‘that year I contributed nothing’ etc. etc. and do myself down, which is an obvious self-preservation tactic – basically, ‘slag yourself off before someone else can do it for you’. Everyone has their ways of dealing with their issues I suppose.

I think the true meaning of the word legend and therefore the people who can really allow it to be bestowed are those who don’t say much and yet see everything. (So not me then, I have far too much to say for myself).

Whilst the snow fell and everyone was stuck indoors, the HCC WhatsApp group got into full swing again. Eventually our own sadness (my own sadness) led me to write a HCC quiz to kill some time. I announced a start time, 7.30pm, and issued the questions with a 15 minute deadline for answers to be submitted (Sven specifically saved his poo so that he could have something to do whilst on the throne).

Out of this came a great stat!  

In the clubs history of playing league cricket (since 1970) there have been 68 Saturday league hundreds scored … Nick Wilkinson has scored 14 of them! 14!!!! That is a ridiculous stat when you break it down. The bloke has scored 20.58% (1/5th!!!!!) of the centuries in the clubs history! A club which has played most of its life in the top flight of club cricket and has existed since 1921. Now THAT surely is a record worthy of the word legend!

The debate cropped up again upon the posting of the quiz on Fb; to see if anyone else was bored shitless and wanted a crack at it. I had wrote ‘which of these club legends’ and then proceeded to list three people who probably weren’t. But people again had issues with this. It is clearly a matter that irks, and is obviously something that is debated regularly whether in the subconscious or knowingly so.

I think that to be a legend you must be at the top of your respective skill, have done it over a long period of time and not go seeking the adulation (although saying that, if you were big headed and had the record to back it up you would still be a legend … I’m arguing with myself here!!!!).

Oh and not playing anymore also helps with peoples opinion of you … always a better player when out of the team ‘n all that. On that note I think being dead also elevates you in people’s memory.

Well anyway, that’s my humble summary.

And with that, I provide my personal list of HCC legends:

-          Nick Wilkinson

-          Pete Mason

-          Jason Roberts

-          Tony North

-          Alan Nicholson

I like anything that keeps history at the fore and builds a more solid base for the club to stand on.

Possible hall of fame introduced next year???

I have no doubt I will never reach the statistical heights of those I have listed, but maybe one day I’ll be considered as much of a legend as Ash … because on that second list I mentioned are the workers, the stalwarts and the reason clubs keep turning, and to even get your name in amongst those types of people would mean some great company to be keeping.

It would be interesting to hear others views, let’s start some more heated ‘debates’ and get some anger flowing! Bash away, you keyboard warriors!

P.s.  Ash has also asked for a guest paragraph in this diary when the season begins; so that he can impart his wisdom to the Hartsholme populous …. Let’s have a think about that …

… Not a fucking chance!

 03/03/17 - Training

Winter nets called off due to snow, thank god! I feel like shit and am snotting/leaking from every orifice.

  06/03/17 - EGM & Committee

BOLLOCKS!!!

Aj’s away, which means that I have to assume the Secretary duties.

I am on my way home from work and have forgotten to print Agenda’s etc.

I’m now about to lose my shit at Bob because he has also left work and therefore can’t assist with the printing. The reason I am about to fly at him is because he now sees fit to call me unprepared, useless and generally try and wind me up about my error (totally fair, I would be doing everything in my power to piss him off).

What he doesn’t know is that Milly is going ape shit at me because I apparently left the house in a shit state (more like I didn’t make the bed to the correct level of neatness) and I am in the middle of a blazing row.

The fact that I was able to withhold myself from taking my anger out on an unwitting bystander shows real growth!

The usual outcome would be that Bob got a mouth full and had no idea why his little joke had gone down so terribly.

A perfect example was a few months ago. I had silently lost my shit at the happenings of a WhatsApp group containing Browny, Wooly and Cookie and then proceeded to take my anger out, wholeheartedly and with no holds barred, on Smithy, in the HCC group.

Yes I’m a twat, but how nice that we are starting to see development and growth … Ahhhh!

So anyway, I get home to have the row escalate, but this time in a very passive manner (fake smiles, soft words and eventual silence with underlying anger; so that our two year old was none the wiser) whilst still having to faff about getting my unused laptop and derelict printer into working fashion so as to get the documents!

Eventually I storm out the house, (kisses and cuddles to my son, silent daggers to my wife) and make my way to the shed.

Tonight is an EGM, called to firm up our unclear membership fees.

(Bob taps on my window in the car-park, I look up and say two minutes as I’m currently sending angry texts back and forward to the Mrs, stay away Bobby, you don’t want to be caught up in this storm in a tea cup J )

There was a ‘family membership’ option that no one knew the definition of that therefore needed clearing up. The worry being that a large extended family could get a membership for £20 and abuse the purpose of it. Probably an issue that would never arise, but when you’re getting asked for membership costs at your own club and you can’t give a straight answer it is pretty bloody embarrassing.

It’s these kind of big hard hitting issues that HCC solve on a daily basis! We’ll be changing the world next week!

Well, for all the hassle it took to sort this one slight change/clarification out (and it took a lot of bloody effort! Some people just know how to make simple things difficult) it took about 2 minutes to pass it.

After posting a decent publication, to adhere to constitutional rules, 1 member not on the committee bothered to turn up … brilliant!

Don’t moan when things aren’t to your liking then, or you feel the club membership is structured incorrectly.

Well, well done to young JP anyway, attending and then subsequently sitting through the following committee meeting; you little dreamboat you!

Apart from me having a pint and continuing to take my personal (Milly related!!!!) frustrations out on anyone who wished to talk to me, it was a nice, quiet and quick meeting.

Bertie is still on track, fundraising is coming along well (looks like we will be running a reverse raffle including a 3 hour all you can drink piss up … brilliant!) and the club seems to be warming up nicely for the season to come.

Dave has continued to approach his Chairman’s post with an Iron fist … seems to be being met well! Maybe that’s what we all needed to keep us in check!

So, off home I go … tail between my legs … ready to say sorry for anything she requires me to, guilty or not … hoping to make up and maybe, just maybe, get lucky ….

Destination … Spare bed! Marriage is a dream ladies and gents!

[hartsholmecc-blog]

“The Day the Music Died...”

Typical isn’t it, you start something and then life gets in the way. ‘An entry per event’ he says, ‘I’ll not fall behind, I have loads of free time for this’.

Well it would seem that weddings distract the mind a tad, and take up a fair bit of time. Admittedly for me it was more the former and not so much the latter, as I did absolutely zero to assist in the planning of my own wedding. But here it is, a little later than predicted … and we have a few things to cover … so lock in!

6th February – Committee  

I’ve always enjoyed committee meetings, most people find them a hard slog but it’s usually a great excuse for me to get out of the house and chat rubbish for a while. Hartsholmes used to be a real hard slog, but over the last 6-12 months we have had a decent influx of new faces and therefore less of the same people making the same noises (often me and bunny). It has also taken on a surprisingly younger feel, typically club committees are stuffy, old and boring, but we have a pretty decent representation of players and old timers, with a couple of women on board too – what can I say, we truly are an inclusive membership.

 So we arrive at ‘the Shed’ (beloved nickname of the club bar) and settle in. We are positioned as usual out of the way around the corner, behind the table football, as it is usually quieter here. The club also doubles up as the social bar for our neighbouring Semi-Professional Football Club as well as being a working man’s club to the local estate.

 It was also Smithy’s (Chairman) first meeting in charge and you could tell the old boy wanted it to run smoothly, he clearly has an idea of how he feels these meetings should be run and this was his first chance to stamp a bit of authority and drive the club forward in the manner he sees fit. Fair play to him! It’s exactly what I would have done; never start soft as they will run all over you …. Saying that, I do like the sound of my own voice so for someone in charge to now have the ability to shut me up quicker is a little soul destroying. (I say in charge, we all know it’s just a bull-shit, figure head position, don’t we David ;) …)

This particular meeting flew by, much to my dismay, I could sit there dragging out cricket chat for hours.

With no Dovey (Head of youth) and no Bunny (Treasurer) that was two huge chunks of the meeting unaccounted for, so we could move quickly through the rest. To give you an idea of what a treat this was; Dovey loves a chat, and can make the smallest pointer last half an hour at least (usually the one point no-one cares about too, but he’s old and confused most of the time, so we let him off), and as Bunny holds the purse strings he has a complaint or query about almost everything that may cost us a quid or two.

The only real point of contention arrived when discussing the Sunday team and the playing availability of the youth’s within the club.

Whilst the league allows players from 12 and up to be registered and play in men’s cricket; as a club we let that decision be taken by the youth coaches as to whether they are ready or not.

Due to the lack of player availability for Sunday’s this year I voiced the opinion that should the child be considered old enough by the league and their parents happy for them to play, then we should make them available for selection on the proviso that the standing captain is sensible enough to not put them in danger at any point.

Well ladies and gents …. I was shot down, magnificently.

Apparently the argument of ‘in my day’ and ‘how old were you when you started playing’ or ‘well it did me no harm!’ doesn’t stand up anymore.

The Welfare officer, a beautiful lady by the name of Lisa (ye, I’m creeping here, she scares me), had my pants down! In short we have a reasonability to ensure that as a club we are doing the correct checks with regards to safety, and my laissez-faire attitude is not becoming of a club captain, and I’d better shut up, know my place and leave these matters to those in charge of the children …..

Well! All I can say is, I was very impressed with her style of argument, she put me straight back in my box and I was totally consumed by her aggressive ‘back down now Boz’ eyes throughout … dreamy! (As a side note her husband is also a beaut of a guy).

The only solution I could muster to have my opinion ratified, was that I start coaching more, provide hundreds of hours, therefore having a better knowledge of our kids so that I can personally overlook their transitions into men’s cricket …. Bunny, Its all yours mate, let us know when they are old enough to play!

Well played Lise … Well played … I cross you again at my own peril, Jay, do as you’re told, she’s fierce!

The only other point of note was that AJ decided to type into the minutes a question about where the pro was staying, with an associated action listed - even though this had already been decided ….

Come on man! Don’t give a bloke who has already said yes to taking the over-seas in have an opportunity to back out of it!!!!

Keep your head down, use assumption to ensure that it all stays the same and nothing changes until it’s all too late and he’s stuck with the decision. Politics, shades of grey and manipulation … all key in keeping the club on the right path! I do love a committee meeting.

10th February – Training

 A pretty dull session all in all. Everything was smooth and without incident. The numbers were a little down and it seems we have already lost the only new recruit of the winter. Great impression HCC!

I spent the bulk of my time taking catches from the catch-it board.

Quick note; if you are having trouble getting your catch-it board to grip and sit still when used in a sports hall … yoga mat … Stroke of genius!

I bought the thing in good faith, assuming I would be a professional and nimble stretcher within a few days, well I have finally got a use for it!

You total cricketing geeks can thank me later.

The decision was made to cancel next week’s session in assumption of the predicted dwindling numbers - due to a wedding that was inconveniently planned for a Saturday.

17th February – Wedding

This was the day I gave it all up to become a married man … except drinking & cricket of course.

That’s a bit of an over-statement. I gave up on the serious debauchery when my son was born, a ring was never going to change much more. I am old and boring now and go for the ‘shit-faced whilst chatting’ night as opposed to clubbing & shagging (I was cool once, honest).

To be fair the main reason it was happening on this day was purely cricket related. I had full-out refused to get married during the season so as to avoid a game clash. One of two things would have happened, either we would have had no one turn up, or a game would have had to have been forfeited, neither of which were options. So I am sorry Milly, but wrap up for a brisk February wedding … as you may be my love, but you were not my first love … that title belongs solely to cricket.

I will now share with you the drunken views of my special day from our Off-spinner; posted the night before my betrothal.

“I'm pissed, fair enough but tomorrow is emotional! I lose Boz!!! He's been my only posh mate! (Maybe Matthew Wooldridge too but hated him for two years) grew into an adult with that self-righteous middle class wanker! Fucking love you Edward Bosworth hope you cry! Love Stephen!”   (Facebook, 17th February 2:22am)

 He then followed that up with:

“Shit! Also Milly Gill I actually like you too! So kudos 

Yes the wording is majestic and the sentiment from the heart, but my favourite thing about this is the timing, and the insight it gives to the life of Stephen Wilkinson (Sven), HCC 1st XI Off-spinner.

This was posted at 2.22am the night before one of his best friends weddings, he was shit faced and didn’t get to sleep until silly o’clock. What’s more, he then proceeded to post that he still didn’t own a suit but would sort it in the morning. Upon waking at about 10.30am (had to be at the wedding for 12.30pm) he got himself to Debenhams, suited himself up and arrived with plenty of time to spare, with not a hangover in sight. Special kind of person that!

There were many of HCC in attendance; the best man being our wicket-keeper Wooly, who gave a decent speech. Most people had predicted an indifferent effort, what with him having the capacity to be socially awkward and the fact that he can’t hold his drink. But he managed his booze intake well (enough to be interesting, but not so much that he made a prat of himself) and delivered, much to the dismay of his cricketing colleagues.

Other highlights include 

HCC’s Chris Millar burning AJ’s Mrs. on the arm with a drunkenly wafted Cigar.

A Rover with a boot full of booze being parked in the car park to avoid the bar (christened the Rovers Return).

HCC’s Nik Green puking in a near enough stranger’s car as he was taken through the back roads of Lincoln on his way home.

During my speech I mention that I am stubborn and obnoxious, HCC players deliver a round of applause.

I, Edward David Bosworth … crying like a little girl during my speech.

It is safe to say that the HCC are my family, which was shown by the amount of players in attendance. The best man being HCC as well as 3 Ushers just adds testimony to that. We also wore green suits with red socks and a pale gold tie in homage to the Hartsholme colors: Red, Gold & Green. Yes the love is THAT real, sorry Milly (She hated the color choice and apparently it was a real pain matching the bridesmaids and flowers etc.)

The drunkest people in attendance were also HCC members …. 1st place going to Wooly. I think it was the relief of having delivered his speech. He ended up with one of my Aussie mates on his shoulders in the middle of the dance floor.

Debate – How to wear my ring during games? … Options – The Strauss, Silicone ring, Take it off altogether … thoughts?

19th- 23rd February - Honeymoon

It never stops …

I’m on my honeymoon and getting involved in emails about the league hand book … do we want an advert in it or not. No one’s fault but my own, I just can’t leave it be. Decision, we do if it’s free!

The HCC what’s app group is also starting to warm up nicely now after the winter lull. Milly is about to slap my phone out of my hand due to my inability to avoid participation in the jokes and help wind Senny up.

24th February - Training

Numbers were boosted slightly this week. Same old shit, different day. You can see why people’s commitment starts to wain a little when it comes to winter nets. We had the foresight to only run one net this week to ensure people weren’t knackered running in for 1 ½ hours. Positives though, it’s good to see the same old faces turn up every week and really put their arses into it. The youths in attendance ran in solidly and trained with purpose, bodes well for the future.

I almost forgot! Bob got smashed in the face, was brilliant! AJ feeding balls into the catch-it, Sven shells one at 1st slip, and parry’s it right up into the face of Bob at 2nd … cue cut lip and grown men pissing themselves at his misfortune.

I tried taping my fingers up properly this week, taking catches for 30/40 minutes solid starts to take its toll on your hands. Unfortunately I decided to do this whilst sat in my car as I was a little early; I then preceded to have a bat before the catching drills … needless to say I sweated, and the tape cracked off in my gloves. Lesson learnt, perhaps more foresight next week.

Last note, good man is Bunny! He spent the whole hour and a half giving throw-downs, drop feeds and bobble feeds to everyone who wanted them. Definitely the way forward at this stage of the season and does far more for your technique and timing than trying to blast a few net bowlers all over the place.

Note – I need to find a way of tightening my helmet, it keeps falling down over my brow as I move out of the crease, very annoying and slightly dangerous! Ends up being batting roulette when added to my failing eyesight!

[hartsholmecc-blog]

“In the Bleak Midwinter”

The cricket season has STARTED!!! It’s here!!!

I HAVE FRIENDS AGAIN!

That’s what my brain is screaming.

My Fiancé is considering whether it ever actually ended, having had to deal with a winters worth of committee meetings, stats gathering, overseas moaning, visa applying, ad-hoc socials and the non-stop beep-beep of our Whats App group (Yes, the conversation is childish and the abuse fierce).

However it is of course only February 3rd and however much I would like to pretend, it is still very much the depths of winter and the season is a mile away. But in any case … leave the house at 8.45am, to visit a freezing cold sports hall, in the pissing down rain, to prepare for amateur sport in the notoriously regressive and stagnant county of Lincolnshire.

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I suppose I had better briefly catch everyone up with the happenings of the winter months:

The period between October and March is very much reserved for the die-hard cricketers. Those who have so little life outside of the sport that they happily cling on to the limited actions that can be completed whilst there is no actual competition in progress. In some cases (mine) they even miss it all so much that they actively create tasks to be completed so as to keep a grip on their habit. Take the common heroin addict, to chuck it all in at once would have severe side effects … they at least need a little bit of methadone to keep them ticking along. Well my methadone would be the stats book I updated and the side effects of not having it to focus on would be having to spend even more time with my partner, something she definitely does not want a bar of! Even worse – without these distractions I would actually have to grow up and focus on being a professional from time to time.

Fuck … that … shit!!!!

So months October & November were spent collating a 44 page Statistics, Records & Honours book that has basically amounted to a little cricket booklet of porn to anyone who is interested in local cricket (You would be surprised how many sad fuckers are out there). Taken from a booklet in existence and up to date until 2009 I painstakingly (bullshit, I did the whole lot with a semi-on) went through 8 years’ worth of stats and scorecards to get it on track, as well as adding a few sections and beefing the content out. It is now a work of art, and something I can stare at when lonely and more importantly, in need of an illusion of a sense of belonging.

Next thing to tackle was the new over-seas process. Simple in previous years …? Just work out your budget and pick who you want …? Get some young Aussie or Kiwi who loves a drink and plays a decent standard …? Flights, accom, a job …?

Ye … that process has gone to shit! Fuck you very much, Home Office!!

I would love to pretend that this was resolved by being nice, cool and chilled out, check a couple of things and crack on regardless. But as you will come to notice, my mind doesn’t work like that, and I cannot stress enough how staggeringly sad for all things cricket I am. I didn’t just do what normal clubs do, and read the ECB guidance. I read every piece of documented evidence available as well as every article and every Home Office guideline published. I am talking a mind numbingly large amount of words, formatted in the dullest way possible. Point 7 C states … Please refer to document 7B part i.  … And so on and so forth.  Once again, I may moan but I secretly loved it, and would have been absolutely gutted had someone decided to take the task upon themselves instead. All these people who take on the backroom work at a club may moan their little titties off, but I bet my life on the fact that they would not have it any other way; I wouldn’t that’s for sure. Talk about needing something to define you or having a little bit of power and grasping on to it, amateur sport is packed full of these mini-Hitler’s; of which I am very proud to be one.

The long and short is that all the old ways of securing your overseas have been knocked on the head. The risk free choices that you are left with as a club are either to pay over the odds for an EU/Brit passport holder or go down the Tier 5 Sponsor route and be safe as houses. HCC chose the latter so it was on to the Sponsors licence application/ sourcing of a first class professional for me. I love all of this, but what I do not love is dealing with sharky recruitment wankers. Seeing as I used to be one, my patience for being spun a line is pretty slim. Fortunately I found a good one so didn’t have to deal with any bull-shit.

First of all we signed a 1st class lad from Sri-Lanka. After a quick Facebook chat, post contracts being signed, we had to pull out of that deal sharpish. Turns out he was looking for a wife, an extra job, as well as constantly referring to me as his ‘best friend for life’ … oh and he was sending me x-rays of his dads recent operations, stating how in need of money he was. Now I am sure most of this was just lost in translation, he’s probably a lovely bloke and he did look a serious cricketer, but something wasn’t right and I got out of that agreement within a day.

After many weeks of courting different pro’s and hours’ worth of form filling that isn’t of much interest, we settled on a Zimbabwean lad. Opening bowler, mid 80’s, 2 U19 World Cups, inclusion in a test squad vs South Africa, a load of 1st class wickets etc. etc. ….

In short – too fucking good for us!

Cost wise – it was a shit load, somewhere in the region of 6k all in. But that’s the legally allowed rate for any Tier 5 pro (must be paid minimum 200pw + licence fees etc.) so we’ll see how it goes and re-asses next year as to whether to go down the same route again.

The main points to take are that whilst he is called Cuthbert Musoko, he has been christened ‘Bertie’ by our 1st team VC, Thorpey; and to say that this name has caught on even before he has arrived is an understatement. It is also worth a mention that whilst we were initially promoted back to the Prem, this was over turned as part of a complete balls up at the league AGM. So we are going to see a guy that bowls mid-80s, rock up in Division 1 of the Lincolnshire league. I’m so happy :)

Final update, just to keep it short and not bore you to death, Club AGM happened and I am HCC’s 1st XI captain again, much to the disdain of Milly and much to the pleasure of my geeky inner monologue. Other appointments included AJ to club secretary; he has already had the piss ripped out of him for this as he is a beautiful boy and would look great behind a desk wearing a set of high heels.

So anyone that thinks you just rock up to nets in the spring and it all starts again, no no no, there are the saddest of people beavering away to bring some level of professionalism to the depths of amateur sport.

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So I leave the house, my now habitual 40 minutes early, for the first net session of the year. I wish this was just the annual excitement building up, but no, I’m early for everything cricket related. Our off spinner Sven is of the opinion that pre- Milly & Harrison (my son) I was late for everything by a good half hour; now that I have a family making me do chores whilst at home I will be at the top of his street at least 10 minutes before we had agreed.

I pull up in the school car park (our nets are held in a school hall, I don’t just spend my ‘early’ time lingering in and around local education facilities) and wander off to the sports hall laden like a pack horse. I am especially heavy on baggage today as I have had to take a change of clothes to attend a family lunch over in Derbyshire straight after. Full kit bag, gym bag, bat and waddling my way down the walk way getting piss wet through, wearing only shorts and a t-shirt.

Wooly, our resident club Labrador and all round fitness freak, (he also happens to be our 1st team keeper) is already waiting, well he’s not waiting, he is running shuttles as a warm up (too keen). We had agreed to do Langer runs (100 x 22 yard sprints, in full pads, done in pyramid set’s) at the start of the session as a bit of fitness. So we both pad up and get started, as the others slowly stumble through the door (needless to say Saturday morning isn’t the most popular of time choices for nets). As we get half way through, last night’s 4 cans of Thatcher’s Gold are starting to return on me and I steadily begin to regret my over enthusiastic suggestion to start the season with running.

So - I’m running backwards and forwards, in a stifling hot and stale school gym, fully padded and sweating my saggy man tits off. What do you think our group of club cricketers are doing? I tell you what they are not fucking doing: setting up, getting stumps out, warming up … anything remotely useful. They are sat on their arses, taking the piss out of each other and shouting abuse at me as I gasp for a mouthful of air whilst trying to choke down the flavour of fermented apples and bile that is by now repeating on me.  

Eventually a couple decide to crack on with what they have come here to do and get some stuff out, I then shout at a couple more to help them, through my staggered breathing, whilst Wooly (breathing fine I may add) orders one of the youngsters to put their pads on. I always find it amusing how long it takes people to do things, would they have just sat there all session until we finished running and suggested a start to proceedings? Or perhaps they were having far too much fun laughing at the two twats who thought fitness was in any way remotely useful in February.

Anyway, the youth club atmosphere ebbs away and the session slowly begins, (I say session, it is the standard, two nets, two bats, everyone else bowls format) and after catching my breath I have a bat. The theory behind running first was that we would then be training whilst fatigued and it would help in the long term (the pros do it, so it must work). Well if you replaced fatigued with fucked then you have some semblance of where my head was at as I faced up. 

I’ll keep this short –

First net = shower of shit. Feet went no-where, didn’t watch the ball, prodded at anything that came my way, played too early and the first half of it was a waste; until I realised that I was no longer playing indoor cricket and just trying to smash the back wall.

Second half was considerably better.

Within about 45 minutes people had started to drift off for chats and any excuse not to bowl. Standard in any club net, bat first or you’ll barely have anyone bowling at you by the end (hence why all the teenagers and bowlers get shafted with this graveyard slot to pad up). Our resident club coach had also turned up, not to add anything really, just to distract the players and provide them with another face to chat bollocks too; I made sure I gave him 20 minutes of my time just to be polite.

During all of this time, Wooly being the keen sporting type that he is had taken Reg (Our young 2s keeper) off to the side to do some 1-2-1 work. God that boy loves to squat (Wooly not Reg).

We then decided that it was a good idea to set our cordon up and take some catches at pace, what with having a gas overseas on the horizon. All I can say is, I hope the lad can bowl straight.

Whilst we had a great time and it was seriously funny watching Reg continue to dive across Thorpey at 1st slip and proceed to leave them (Bob definitely wore a few as a result), we were so bad that instead of patting ourselves on the back for holding catches, we were just chuffed when we got in the right position whilst shelling them. Wooly did have a great time smashing them at us though, as did the small semblance of spectators pissing themselves at our efforts.

I have a feeling that 3rd man is going to be mighty busy this season! The shout of ‘Browny’ started going up at each chance that went flying through the slips down to where our resident 3rd man would be stationed throughout the year. Sounds simple and retarded, it is, but it’s also gold when shouted at the 4 or 5 of us currently giggling at how shit we are and knowing how grumpy Brown will be at his extra work load this summer. As for the guy bowling gas and watching his snicks be put down, I feel for the bloke! Chances of getting pissed off and leaving mid-season!?

Overall the turnout wasn’t great, we have always had a problem with training at our club, same old faces an’ all that. But all in all the right people turned up and it was good to see everyone back together. I would say we had about 7 or 8 first teamers in attendance, so that’s not bad for the 3rd of Feb.

Oh, almost forgot! This year Bob (Thorpe) has decided that we will be posting the team each week in video format a la, Sky Sports. We got 3 or 4 done, watch this space, they are genius!!! One of the outtakes is attached to give a feel of how tragic we all are and how hilarious we find ourselves.

So first winter net session over, and off I go to the Derbyshire section of my son’s 2nd birthday. I was late, of course, and proceeded to fill up on lasagne, Diet Coke and chips; undoing any good work I had benefited from during the Langer runs.

So, what to fill my time with until next week!?

Work? Run? Read? …

No, I know, how about writing a Captains Diary; in the process ensuring that I supply myself with a whole summer’s worth of little ‘Methadone’ hits!