NORTHWOOD CRICKET CLUB

Posted by Admin on 16 April 2008, 12:00 am

Refusal to admit my limitations was absurd
(my wrists not made to hit a ball for six –
my nature ill-equipped for public exhibitions)
but time and time again I would compete
with strong, phlegmatic men well-trained
in batting skills, at bowling wizardry adept –
proficient to a point I could not hope to reach.
But that was fifty years ago – before
the old thatch-roofed pavilion came down.
Around the field the beeches, planes,
and sycamores that saw my sad displays
still stand, and, patinated now by time,
the iron drinking fountain yet remains
inside the gate.
Today, relieved of all ambition to contend,
I sit detached, non-partisan – enjoy
sharp colour contrasts, white or cream on green –
absorb the fluid patterns of the play –
appreciate technique – with pleasure sense
the atmosphere, light-hearted and indicative
of cricket played for fun.