Are You Getting Enough.....Cricket?

I play cricket. In fact, in the eyes of some people – a handful of friends and, well, more than a handful of ex-girlfriends – too much cricket. The debate around that comment aside, especially as I approach 40 in a couple of years…….OK, a year and a half…… the fact is that unless you’ve been part of it, part of a club, a good club, you just won’t understand why there is such a draw to those of us who play.

Plenty of clubs in plenty of sports talk about being a “family” but I’ve never found this to be quite the case so much as in cricket. I’ve played for our club for 24 years. Perhaps 25. I’ve represented other clubs in that time too, when I was away at uni or couldn’t get in to the Saturday sides, but across all those years, on Saturdays, Sundays or both, I’ve represented one club throughout.

This means that I’ve grown up with some players, seen people join, move away, seen juniors become seniors, get married, have kids, some players become older, stop playing, and even some players and supporters pass away, at times far too soon. Whilst cricket may have boring, lengthy periods of not doing anything to some, these are the moments that make it unique amongst sports. This is the time when, tea in hand, you talk, bond, muck about, laugh, resolve all of life’s ills or simply forget that they exist – not necessarily with like minded souls, but with a mixture of people from all walks of life who just happen to share one thing – cricket, but with whom you can talk about anything.

Across the years I’ve captained, coached, committee’d, quiz mastered, umpired, scored, painted, rolled, you name it! Aside from actually cutting the hallowed turf, which would only be permitted once hell had frozen over, I’ve pretty much been involved in every aspect of club life. But they aren’t the moments that stand out. The moments that do are almost incidental to the game. Like when a young player I’d known since they were a junior felt that they could talk to me about being bullied, or sitting on the boundary benches talking about historic clashes with gentlemen who stopped playing decades before I started. They are hearing a parent tell me that they’d rather their kids played cricket at our club that other sports as it teaches them sportsmanship, or someone asking about how to approach their boss about handing in their notice or asking for a sabbatical. They are sitting watching the openers put on a good stand, unable to move from our positions for fear of angering the cricket gods!  

In a world where more and more people can only converse through a keyboard or screen, where depression and anxiety are becoming more prevalent, where traditional support networks are neither as common or as stable as they once were, the importance of the role of team sport cannot be overlooked. Cricket especially affords that time to be outdoors, to meet different people, to be competitive but in an arena where sportsmanship is still held in a high esteem and perhaps above all to talk. In my career I’ve had to deal with different people from all walks of life, all levels of responsibility, seniority, all with different motivations but a small area of common ground and shared interest. Sounds pretty familiar. In my life I’ve had different challenges, personal and professional, and I’ve been fortunate that I have a large extended network of support, a family, who I could rely on – whether they realised it or not.

So, the next time I’m asked, am I “playing too much cricket?” perhaps I ought to be asking – are you playing enough?

A Disappointing Dating Story

So, I’ve been seeking the motivation, perhaps the inspiration to return to a spot of blogging / creative writing for a while. A few folk suggested a dating blog, which was something that existed briefly some years ago. Well, this blog post is a little bit about that – but you may well be disappointed.

I ought also caveat what you’re about to read with the following - soul bearing ramblings may well not be my strong point. I’m not confident that I’ve ever tried all that hard to be a fully-open-to-the-elements author of honest content. I’m also not sure if, as you get older, you become more introspective, more aware or just more inclined to muse openly about any feelings, emotional roller-coaster moments and the grand journey that is life, at least what we believe it to be. But I was inspired by reading the blog of a newly acquired friend this morning, and it was the nudge if not kick up the proverbial that I needed.

So, I thought that I’d write about dating. Kind of. It may be a personal thing, or a reflection of modern society though I’d never think for a second I’m wise or grandiose enough to linger on such a thought for long, but I have a sneaking suspicion that in my own case the more independent I have become as a “fully fledged” adult, the more dependent I have also become in other ways. Let me explain.

The independent thing is easy. I am relatively happy with my “lot”. I bought my house a couple of years ago now and do you know what, I love it. I love coming home to my own space, my own mess and invariably the home comforts of some good food and a comfy bed. Is it perfect? No. But it’s mine. And after I have finished writing this, I will enjoy a cup of tea, a sausage sandwich then go and reorganise my garage to how I want it to be after 12 months of pretty much lobbing things in to the far corner. Do you know what? I’ll feel pretty chuffed afterwards!

What I have found though, conversely, is that I have become a bit of a self-saboteur in the other parts of my life that should be the guaranteed positives. The social pressure of being the only single chap in my closest of circles I’ve found pushing me in to being somewhat of a stereotype of myself, which becomes a difficult habit to break. I love that disappearing to university gave me an opportunity to break that circle from my school persona but in adulting terms I think it’s even harder to say “I’m not going to be that person anymore”. As the singleton the inevitable questions come relentlessly.

“Who you’re seeing?”

“Don’t you want to settle down?”

And the ever so special “Why don’t you try <insert dating app here>? Geoff and Susan met on there and they go married last year.”

Firstly. Congratulations Geoff and Susan. And it’s marvellous that my friends have met their lobsters, it truly is. But it does drive an over dependence on the age-old search for “the one” and though they may not realise it, it’s a pretty exhausting affair both physically and mentally, which I am guilty of periodically letting get the better of me.

When I look back on the happiest times of the last 12 months, none of them involved dating. None. I spent the start of the summer pretty much living at the cricket club - playing, supporting, providing Twittery updates on the “action” much to the delight of some of the younger members and doing what I could to help coach and mentor. Conversely in January I sacked off the dating for the most part and spent time with people who brought joy and happiness to my life. I prioritised how I ought to, and it felt great. Then I find myself slipping back in to old habits, old dependencies, until I found myself at a real low recently. I let this happen too often. Far, far too often. So. Let’s have a reset.

The goal is that spending time with things and people that enhance my life will come first. And as hard as it will be, the expectations of others and perhaps, more weighty, myself, well they’ll have to find some other perch for the time being. Less duty and responsibility to others, more focus on duty and responsibility to myself. Back to writing, food (be prepared to be fed should you venture near!), holidays (Galapagos Islands anyone?) and should the weather allow plenty of laps of the cricket ground in the sun, tea in hand. Nothing life changing. Just some fine tuning. Plus a return to working on a story / screenplay that’s been long mooted about a mouse….long short story.