THE only thing I hate about cricket is that I am unfathomably bad at it. Reader, I am very, truly, Bambion-ice-skates awful. Cricket has often been described as a cruel game; those long hours in the field, getting out first ball, bowling for 15 overs for absolutely no reward—these are just a few of the many mental and physical horrors that can occur on the pitch.
However, for me, cricket’s greatest trick, its most cruel joke, is that I spend almost every waking hour reading, watching, listening to and playing the game—yet despite my intense passion, I am still terrible. Like the most deranged of scorned lovers, I keep coming back, knowing that the great willowand-leather scorpion is guaranteed to sting me in the face yet again. I don’t really bat, I can’t really bowl and my fielding is dubious at best. I can sledge, I suppose, but then it’s difficult for the batsmen to hear you when you’ve been stuck on the boundary to minimise the damage your ineptitude might inflict upon the scoreboard.
Denne historien er fra November 20, 2019-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra November 20, 2019-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Tales as old as time
By appointing writers-in-residence to landscape locations, the National Trust is hoping to spark in us a new engagement with our ancient surroundings, finds Richard Smyth
Do the active farmer test
Farming is a profession, not a lifestyle choice’ and, therefore, the Budget is unfair
Night Thoughts by Howard Hodgkin
Charlotte Mullins comments on Moght Thoughts
SOS: save our wild salmon
Jane Wheatley examines the dire situation facing the king of fish
Into the deep
Beneath the crystal-clear, alien world of water lie the great piscean survivors of the Ice Age. The Lake District is a fish-spotter's paradise, reports John Lewis-Stempel
It's alive!
Living, burping and bubbling fermented masses of flour, yeast and water that spawn countless loaves—Emma Hughes charts the rise and rise) of sourdough starters
There's orange gold in them thar fields
A kitchen staple that is easily taken for granted, the carrot is actually an incredibly tricky customer to cultivate that could reduce a grown man to tears, says Sarah Todd
True blues
I HAVE been planting English bluebells. They grow in their millions in the beechwoods that surround us—but not in our own garden. They are, however, a protected species. The law is clear and uncompromising: ‘It is illegal to dig up bluebells or their bulbs from the wild, or to trade or sell wild bluebell bulbs and seeds.’ I have, therefore, had to buy them from a respectable bulb-merchant.
Oh so hip
Stay the hand that itches to deadhead spent roses and you can enjoy their glittering fruits instead, writes John Hoyland
A best kept secret
Oft-forgotten Rutland, England's smallest county, is a 'Notswold' haven deserving of more attention, finds Nicola Venning
