Lies, damned lies, and … hang on …

So, the season is drawing to a blustery close, and in my 38th innings (I know, I have truly gorged myself on cricket this year) I hit the heady heights of 400 runs. I ought to be pleased, really, considering I started by batting left-handed (and with only the right-hand available for use), a total switch of styles. Of these 38 innings, four involved me actively switching from left to right-handed after 18 runs or so. The idea was that I got my eye in left-handed, then went on the attack right-handed. I had observed that I was more difficult to get out left-handed, but scored more freely right-handed. Continue reading

Serendipitiful

It is often said that the best way of finding something is by not looking for it, and goodness I found something yesterday. By accident. En passant. While searching for the answer to something else.
I took my trusty camerawoman to a weekday game at Streat and Westmeston Cricket Club, a beautiful little ground nestling in the grounds of Middleton Manor, just outside Ditchling. From the pavilion the views of the Downs and the Beacon are truly beautiful, and the day could not have been a better one: a sharp contrast to last week’s drizzly affair at Sidley, near Bexhill. The camera was there for a clear purpose: to allow me to talk a little about my preparation and how I feel about playing, in the hope that I, or someone, might come up with some ideas about how to mend my head. Continue reading