Tannin
Storage? I am Storage!
Just have to say something about this one.
A few weeks ago, I started playing indoor cricket again. I gave it away maybe six months back after I got tired of buggering up my hands with injuries. I'm no natural sportsman, but if you do anything for long enough you gradually get better at it, and though I field up the front, just a few metres from the bat, I was starting to just get my fingertips to balls that used to pass me by before I had time to blink. Of course, if you can take a ball cleanly, it does no harm, and if you miss it completely it does no harm - it's when you only just get your fingertips to it that it destroys joints and tendons. After about the third or fourth injury in a row, I gave it away. Until I started again.
But, having had a fair while off, I'd lost form, of course. Did OK with the bat first game back - my usual dour, grafting 20-something - bowled poorly, fielded ... well ... let's say that if I'd fielded from the bar instead of the cricket pitch it wouldn't have made any difference.
Second week back Kristi's boyfriend David came along too, and we were both terrible, aside from our bowling. His was fast and raher wayward, mine was satisfactory, as we were playing the top team - far better than us - and all our quicks were getting hammered. So, taking my courage in both hands, instead of bowling my usual flattish off-spin, I gave it air, lots of air. It takes a bit of gumption to see the other bowlers carted and bowl even slower than usual, but it worked. I only got one wicket but at least I slowed their scoring down.
Alas, come time to bat, Kevin and I, usually a very reliable pair, scored exactly zero. Long faces.
Last week was worse! Having a practice bowl before the game I got hit in the face. Just a minor bruise. First ball I bowled, the batsman hit it straight back at me like a bullet, around knee height. I got my right hand to it, spilled the catch, and mangled my little finger. I could barely bowl, let alone catch. Even so, Kev and I batted more-or-less OK, getting 18 or 20, which is almost enough. (Rule of thumb is that anything over 100 is a decent team score: if all four pairs get 25, then you have enough runs to make the opposition work for it. Do well with the ball and the game is yours.) Oh, and I managed to bash my knee on something too, and later on the finger swelled up like a sausage and is still a little sore.
This week we batted first. Kev and I opened (as we like to do) and grafted our usual 25 - which turned out to be top score, alas. With a team score of 57 after 16 overs, things were not looking good. The side we were playing is my old side, so I knew them well. And when, after the first three overs, our captain threw me the ball, my heart sank. Pete was batting: thier best player, and one who not only knows my bowling well from all those practice balls I've sent down to him, but reads it out of my hand and generally carts it to all corners of the ground.
First ball to the other batsman: a single. So far, so good. First ball to Pete - trying too hard to squeeze him down the leg side and restrict him to two but get him off strike - a wide, way down leg side. Third ball, a good length on middle stump, just a trace of back-spin, he hit back at me like a bullet, way up over my head. Amazingly, I got a hand to it, over the back of my head, took the pace off it, and still in mid-air dived despairingly forward after it, landing flat on my face, sliding so as to abrade both knees on the carpet, and bash my elbows too. But I caught it.
It was without doubt the best catch I have ever taken, and doubtless the best catch I will ever take - good players take these every week or two, but I am under no illusions as to being a good player. Even the opposition applauded it loudly. It was indeed a moment to treasure. Fired up properly now, I proceeded to bowl a series of beat-the-bat balls, and finished off with a throw-down-the-stumps run-out.
Sometimes, you just have a magic night. I'm tired, rather sore in places, and it doesn't hurt a bit. :wink:
A few weeks ago, I started playing indoor cricket again. I gave it away maybe six months back after I got tired of buggering up my hands with injuries. I'm no natural sportsman, but if you do anything for long enough you gradually get better at it, and though I field up the front, just a few metres from the bat, I was starting to just get my fingertips to balls that used to pass me by before I had time to blink. Of course, if you can take a ball cleanly, it does no harm, and if you miss it completely it does no harm - it's when you only just get your fingertips to it that it destroys joints and tendons. After about the third or fourth injury in a row, I gave it away. Until I started again.
But, having had a fair while off, I'd lost form, of course. Did OK with the bat first game back - my usual dour, grafting 20-something - bowled poorly, fielded ... well ... let's say that if I'd fielded from the bar instead of the cricket pitch it wouldn't have made any difference.
Second week back Kristi's boyfriend David came along too, and we were both terrible, aside from our bowling. His was fast and raher wayward, mine was satisfactory, as we were playing the top team - far better than us - and all our quicks were getting hammered. So, taking my courage in both hands, instead of bowling my usual flattish off-spin, I gave it air, lots of air. It takes a bit of gumption to see the other bowlers carted and bowl even slower than usual, but it worked. I only got one wicket but at least I slowed their scoring down.
Alas, come time to bat, Kevin and I, usually a very reliable pair, scored exactly zero. Long faces.
Last week was worse! Having a practice bowl before the game I got hit in the face. Just a minor bruise. First ball I bowled, the batsman hit it straight back at me like a bullet, around knee height. I got my right hand to it, spilled the catch, and mangled my little finger. I could barely bowl, let alone catch. Even so, Kev and I batted more-or-less OK, getting 18 or 20, which is almost enough. (Rule of thumb is that anything over 100 is a decent team score: if all four pairs get 25, then you have enough runs to make the opposition work for it. Do well with the ball and the game is yours.) Oh, and I managed to bash my knee on something too, and later on the finger swelled up like a sausage and is still a little sore.
This week we batted first. Kev and I opened (as we like to do) and grafted our usual 25 - which turned out to be top score, alas. With a team score of 57 after 16 overs, things were not looking good. The side we were playing is my old side, so I knew them well. And when, after the first three overs, our captain threw me the ball, my heart sank. Pete was batting: thier best player, and one who not only knows my bowling well from all those practice balls I've sent down to him, but reads it out of my hand and generally carts it to all corners of the ground.
First ball to the other batsman: a single. So far, so good. First ball to Pete - trying too hard to squeeze him down the leg side and restrict him to two but get him off strike - a wide, way down leg side. Third ball, a good length on middle stump, just a trace of back-spin, he hit back at me like a bullet, way up over my head. Amazingly, I got a hand to it, over the back of my head, took the pace off it, and still in mid-air dived despairingly forward after it, landing flat on my face, sliding so as to abrade both knees on the carpet, and bash my elbows too. But I caught it.
It was without doubt the best catch I have ever taken, and doubtless the best catch I will ever take - good players take these every week or two, but I am under no illusions as to being a good player. Even the opposition applauded it loudly. It was indeed a moment to treasure. Fired up properly now, I proceeded to bowl a series of beat-the-bat balls, and finished off with a throw-down-the-stumps run-out.Sometimes, you just have a magic night. I'm tired, rather sore in places, and it doesn't hurt a bit. :wink: