Cricket, like life, can sometimes surprise you. This week that has most certainly been the case. First there was Ben Stokes unexpected declaration on the opening day off the first Ashes test, then there was Harry Brook’s early introduction into the English bowling attack the following morning, and thirdly there was my attending a T20 game between two sides that I would not normally find myself spectating.
The initial reason for making my way up the motorway to Bristol in order to see Gloucestershire play Kent was because my soon to be married younger brother had arranged for a few sundry individuals to gather there by way of an impromptu mini stag do. But the trip was given additional value by affording me the opportunity to meet a cricket writer whose blogs I have been reading ever since he was mentioned in the hallowed pages of this years Wisden Cricket Almanack. However, though further surprised when, unlike most Saturday afternoon’s in summer, I was not delayed by traffic on the M5 being at a standstill, my new acquaintance was just how I would expect genuine fans of the summer game to be – it was no surprise to me at all when he was somebody who was a joy to meet and spend a little time with.*
Having arrived at the ground unfashionably early because of my less than anticipated travel time, my first task though was to get my bag checked just as it sadly has to be for T20 games at Taunton. Unlike my octogenarian mother who once had a knife confiscated from her person when I took her to a Somerset game – I doubt if ever a son ever been more proud of the one who gave him life! – the search of my belongings took place without incident and so, having received the necessary bright pink cards with which one is encouraged to celebrate boundaries, I was able to proceed and take a walk around the ground.
Just as is the case at Taunton, the walls at the Bristol ground are adorned with images of former cricketing stars and many of the former Gloucestershire greats were familiar to me, Wally Hammond, Tom Graveney and Mike Proctor to name but three. It was good to see Anya Shrubsole honoured there too, reflecting the very welcome burgeoning of the women’s game in recent years. As at Somerset, some stands are named after former players too and I took the opportunity to sit a while in the Mark Alleyne Stand which is located just along from the one named after Jack Russell. As I did so the familiar face of Marchant de Lange appeared on the big screen urging me to resist the temptation to venture onto the playing area and, though he was dressed in the yellow and black of Gloucestershire, it was, nonetheless a reassurance for one who was a foreigner in a foreign land, to see the former Somerset paceman smiling down on me!
I then met up with my brother and his entourage who, given that others in the crowd had, I was disappointed to find them dressed in normal attire rather than going to the trouble to disguise themselves as Richie Benaud in the manner that any self respecting stags would surely see fit. We settled down to watch the game near to the flame throwing machines which threatened to singe our eyebrows each time a four six was hit thereby raising the possibility that those pink cards were actually issued as a safety measure and meant to be deployed to shield oneself from the intense heat.
To be honest I wasn’t particularly bothered about who won but out of respect to the new friend I was shortly to met and because it seemed rude not to support the club who were hosting me that evening, I decided to get behind the Gloucestershire side, yet another surprise perhaps for a diehard Somerset fan!
Gloucestershire got off to the worst possible start with Grant Roelofsen caught behind off the first ball of the match but Miles Hammond, the home team’s newly appointed T20 captain, together with Ben Wells then started scoring freely and by the end of the fifth over, the score had reached 51 with no further loss of wickets. From that high point of the Gloucestershire innings though things turned sour with wickets falling with monotonous regularity such that when the last man was out with three balls still unbowled, the total stood at only 137.
It was then that I met my blogging acquaintance who, though no doubt disappointed by his teams poor showing, was nonetheless in cheerful mood. It was good to stop to chat a while about our shared love of cricket before our brief conversation was interrupted by a lady intent on selling us samosas for a good cause and the commencement of the second innings.
Kent also got off to a bad start with Tawanda Muyeye run out in the first over with the score on just 5 but, though Gloucestershire hopes were briefly kept alive when Tom Price took a sharp catch off his own bowling to remove Joe Denly and Ben Wells produced a smart piece of fielding to run out Sam Billings, the opposition captain, Kent eventually romped home to victory with three overs to spare, Daniel Bell-Drummond, a not infrequent thorn in Somerset’s side, unbeaten on 56 and man of the match, Jordan Cox, also not out having scored a brisk 31.
With the St. Paul’s Carnival only a couple of weeks away prematch entertainment had been provided by a dance troop and a steel band who will soon be taking part in what is Bristol’s exuberant annual street celebration. But alongside these worthy offerings there were also, to me at least, those less welcome distractions that were offered in much the same way as they are at Somerset, each seemingly the result of a lack of confidence in the entertainment value of the game itself. Perhaps** I’m just a grumpy old man but for me there are few more depressing sights than spectators scrabbling for a sponsors T-shirt like a bunch of performing seals after the fish that might sometimes be similarly thrown in their general direction. As an act of mercy towards the home crowd, for whom, in light of the match situation, times would almost certainly have been better previously, we were at least spared ‘Sweet Caroline’ but given the Pavlovian response of a large crowd singing along to that ubiquitous song is regularly witnessed wherever T20 is played, doubt must surely be poured on Darwin’s theory that we are as a species inevitably evolving to ever higher levels of sophistication.
That these amusements, by which I mean ‘supposed pleasures that require no thought’, are, it seems, standard across the country’s county cricket grounds suggests that how we are supposed to enjoy ourselves is being somehow controlled in ways that aren’t entirely for the best. Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy being part of a large excited crowd who is lifting its collective voice in melodious accord as much as the next man, but surely this is an opportunity for us not all to be singing from the same hymn sheet. We don’t all have to be the same. Gloucestershire might have ‘Massive Attack’ but Somerset have ‘The Wurzels’ and surely the rural charm of ‘I am a cider drinker’ should be allowed to contrast with the plaintive trip-hop*** of ‘Unfinished Sympathy’!
Leaving all that aside, though the game was not a classic, watching it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. I wonder if at least part of the reason for this was that, though I wanted Gloucestershire to win, my desire for them to do so wasn’t as great as it would have been for Somerset to win had I been watching them. As such I was able to enjoy the game for what it was, appreciating each individual’s performance in much the same way that Ben Stokes has said he likes to play the game, without any worry about the result getting in the way.
But the idea of playing with a smile on your face whilst looking to entertain by trying something new and exciting isn’t new. My Dad was playing Bazchess before Ben Stokes was even born! He used to tell me how he much preferred playing when the result didn’t matter, when he could try something different, something that would be interesting to try even if it might cost him the game This was in stark contrast to when he was playing competitively for a team who needed him to win. In such circumstances he felt constrained to be cautious and found the whole thing less satisfying.
Because, as with cricket, so it is with chess: the game really is more important than the result.
All of which left me wondering if we all shouldn’t start playing Bazlife! Sport, of course, is not real life and we can’t always live just for the fun of it. For many every day is an unhappy struggle and even those who find life more straightforward have a responsibility to look out for others who don’t. This means we can’t always act as if what we do doesn’t matter. Sometimes we all, as it were, have to try and bat all day whilst pinching the occasional single when the opportunity affords. Even so, perhaps we would all do well to be more concerned about how we live our lives than about any success we might one day achieve. Not only would such an attitude lift the burden of having to achieve what we are unable to but also allow us to celebrate with those who merit our applause without our being jealous of their success.
Furthermore it might just put a smile back on all our faces. And what a pleasant surprise that would me.
* my new blogging pal’s website is called ‘Rain Stopped Play, inspection at 3’, It can be read here. So please give it a try!
** perhaps there is no ‘perhaps’ about it!
*** as if I knew what that even is!
Other cricket blogs:
To read ‘Cricket – it’s all about good timing’, click here
To read ‘Lewis Calpaldi – Retired Hurt?’, click here
To read ‘Breaking News’, click here
To read ‘Online criticism: it’s just not cricket’, click here
To read ‘Cigarettes, Singles, and Sipping Tea with Ian Botham: Signs of a Well Spent Youth!’, click here
To read ‘A Tale of Two Tons’, click here
To read ‘A Somerset Cricket Players Emporium’, click here
To read ‘A Cricket Taunt’, click here
To read ‘Scooby Doo and the Mystery of the Deseted Cricket Ground’, click here
To read ‘Brian and Stumpy visit The Repair Shop’, click here
To read ‘A Cricketing Christmas Carol’, click here
To read ‘At Season’s End’, click here
To read ‘A Historic Day’, click here
To read ‘On passing a village cricket club at dusk one late November afternoon’ click here
To read ‘Cricket – through thick and thin’, click here
To read ‘A Song for Brian’, click here
To read ‘I’ve got a little CRICKET list’, click here
To read ‘My love is not a red, red rose , click here
To read ‘Stumpy – a legend reborn’, click here
To read ‘A Cricket Tea Kind of a Day’, click here
To read ‘A Day at the Cricket’, click here
To read ‘The Great Cricket Sell Off’, click here
To read ‘How the Grinch stole from county cricket…or at least tried to’. click here
To read ‘How Covid-19 stole the the cricket season’, click here
To read ‘Life in the slow lane’, click here
To read ‘Frodo and the Format of Power’, click here
To read ‘If Only’, click here
To read ‘Eve of the RLODC limericks’ click here
To read ‘It’s coming home…’, click here
To read ‘A Song for Ben Green’, click here
To read ‘Enough Said…’, the last section of which is cricket related, click here
A Jack Leach Trilogy:
To read ‘For when we can’t see why’, click here
To read ‘WWJD – What would Jack Do?’, click here
To read ‘On Playing a Blinder’, click here
To read ‘Coping with Disappointment’, click here
And now a couple of cricket blogs with a theological flavour
To read ‘Somerset CCC – Good for the soul’, click here
To read ‘Longing for the pavilion whilst enjoying a good innings’, click here
Some musings 
We enjoyed your blog, from a knife welding octogenarian and grand chess master.
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More importantly, I hope you enjoyed Somerset’s win last night too!
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