Can't sleep.. surely it's time to get up?
Christ it's dark outside, what time is it? 7, 8 o'clock? What only 5? Sod it I’m getting up.
What's on TV... shopping channel, no, aerobics Oz style? hmm maybe another time. Ah Countdown this will send me back to sleep. Can't stop thinking about today's game...
Ah I still suck at Countdown though I have achieved a record of a 5 letter word and got somewhere close in the number round.
...What's that noise? The alarm? Ah must have dropped off to sleep again.
Where's my kit? Ah nightmare can't find my shirt. There it is hiding at the back of the wardrobe again. Sure someone is trying to tell me something...
Bag's packed precisely now. The first couple of times it just didn't feel right. Feeling slightly better, maybe I should put another jumper in looks cold outside. No should be fine.
What's that noise? Rain? Is it rain? Oh for god's sake it was meant to be fine today... Oh wait it's someone washing a car..
Lunch eaten, can't even remember what it was.
Bag is in the car, sure I've forgotten something. Did I forget to put my shirt in? Best get out and check.
No it's there, stupid doubting brain of course you packed it you only checked a mere 5 times before.
To the ground. Is that rain on the windscreen? No, no, just your imagination again.
Bag dumped in the changing room. Changed, feeling slightly nervous now. Skippers are on their way out to the middle. Up goes the coin.
Are we batting? Hello skip, are we batting?
He's gesturing what can only be described as a very loose off drive back towards the pavilion. Yeah we're batting.
Right, kit on. Follow the same routine, box, right pad first always first. Why are you putting your left pad on first? Remember always right to make it right.
I don't remember these straps feeling so loose before, thigh pad, helmet, gloves...
Can't find my gloves, Christ I've forgotten to pack them. Probably too busy checking if I've packed my shirt. Oh hang on there they are, hiding under last week’s crusting pants.
Here we go then... mind you don't kill yourself slipping on the changing room floor on the way out. Stupid spikes.
Need some throwdowns. Where the hell is everyone? Probably round the back of the pavilion having a fag is my guess.
Bat feels weird, handle is like a pencil. Extra grip? No too late now...
Heading to the middle, nervous. The opposition don't look too bothered. Probably more concerned on who is getting the first round in after the game or getting their ear chewed off by their other halves about who got booted off X Factor tonight.
You facing? I don't know, you tell me? I'm not fussed. Yeah go on then, best to get it out of the way.
Middle please, I said middle please. Hello are you listening? Ah thank you. About bloody time! Scratch away, dig a trench in the crease.
Look around the field. Who's the weak link? Hello fielder at point. You don't look like you've done much exercise since your high school sports day in 1970. You're my new best friend.
Christ it is a bit chilly. Should have packed that extra jumper now.
Settle down into stance, bat still feels weird but too late here comes the ball. Watch the ball, watch the ball. I'm gonna smash it past my new best friend in a moment..
Silence...
I've heard that noise before. The dreaded death rattle. Surely not?! The field goes up like a bunch of screaming banshees. SHIT!
Turn round, trudge off, don't look at the stumps. Don't give them the pleasure of seeing your embarrassment. Head down straight into the changing room.
Told you the bat felt weird. Don't throw it! I said don't throw it. Too late. Someone will have heard that. Idiot!
Kit off, thrown in bag without a care. No need for all that meticulous spacing out and packing this morning now.
Lie down, fall asleep wait for tea, sure someone will wake you up beforehand.
Wake up, trudge to the table.
Great only egg mayonnaise left.
Could this day get any worse?
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