There aren’t many better ways of finding security in one’s Englishness than whiling the day away at a cricket match. As I have blogged here before, I find cricket to be the most pleasant of pursuits, the embodiment of English calm. It should be said, however, that cricket can also be a hot-blooded and intense affair—witness India vs. Pakistan or England vs. Australia—but the cricket of which I speak is that genteel 4-day version.
So after a morning at Worcester Cathedral I spent the afternoon in the comfort blanket that is Worcestershire’s New Road. This was the site of the heady Worcestershire cricket of the late 1980s—Botham and Hick—and the young pretenders of today. I was there for 5 hours in baking sunshine.
And the score? Well, it’s not over until today.
And the teams? Worcestershire and Yorkshire, I think, but then I did spend much of the day reading the Sunday paper, so I can’t be sure.