Back to Bradfield, back to the scene of last year’s disastrous innings. Start was 11.30. I arrived twelve-ish. The captain was batting when I got in but he told another player that I should pad up sharpish.
‘Are you sure, why don’t I pad up until the big guns arrive ‘ I said- their were only 5 of us at 12.15.
‘Yes that might be a good idea, I’ve heard about you. You are euphemistically described as a good clubman; that is you can’t bat, can’t field, you’ve got kit, have bat and will travel’ said the 2nd in command.
I went in at 5 and did what some bloke called Subba Row told me last summer. He told me he’d got a few hundreds. His advice: take 20 balls to get your eye in even if you can hit a boundary in that time, take a single or ease it into the gap, he said. Hell, that would make this 50 ball ton very hard.
Tried the 20 ball thing. 19 balls too long I reckon. I needed that high- the rush of thwacking a boundary. Boundaries, boundaries, wouldn’t cricket be better if you could only score in boundaries.
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