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The Cypriot cricket tour commences

April 3, 2014

The newsletter issued by my newly adopted old codgers cricketing group, the Sussex Seniors, now affiliated to Currencies Direct is called, rather tellingly, “From The Graveyard End”. I received my first copy yesterday and was astonished and delighted in equal measure to see two pictures of a certain senior and renowned author (in his own mind) the life of whom, if you are a regular reader of this column, you will know is steeped in debauchery and drinking. The fact that both photographs seemed to depict a mature cricketer in two technically very correct stroke making poses was a testament either to the style and poise exhibited by the batsman in question, or the patience of the photographer. I know which scenario I would prefer to believe.

By the time you are reading this erudite column, I shall almost certainly be seated aboard a plane, courtesy of Easyjet, high above Europe with a glass of something cold and sparkling in my hand en route to Paphos in Cyprus in readiness for the Sussex Seniors cricket tour. I have still to discover the identity of the joker who decided to book the team on such an early flight, but when I do he will be roundly chastised at the very least.

The Norfolk Estate

The Norfolk Estate


I had earlier attended the final cricket practice for the team at the Arundel Castle indoor cricket school but had been denied the customary debrief at The White Hart due to the paucity of the turnout. A mere 6 players arrived, but given the early departure today, perhaps that was quite decent. Of the few that did arrive, the majority cited packing as the reason not to adjourn to the pub, and indeed it seems a number of the tourists had arranged to stay at Gatwick last night. This is just not cricket. I shall be insisting in a much more leisure led effort from my team mates in the coming days.

After a brief hiatus, brought on by the lack of fortitude of a bunch of old cricketers, I was able to persuade That Nice Lady Decorator to join me in an early evening walk along the banks of the River Arun at Amberley, and then to partake of a couple of pints of proper English beer before retiring to the a White Hart for some tapas courtesy of JAK, the new restaurant facility based at the pub. It was there that we encountered Nearly Hairless Nick who was keen to inform me that the reason for once again washing his car was down to the Saharan sand that had been evident in the rain that had fallen the night before. If I tell you that my car was also outside at the same time, and did not require any cleansing, then you may form the opinion that such a fixation with owning a car with not a speck of dust on board is a bit OCD, but I could not possibly comment.

So it is about to begin. Who was it write the song “an old cricketer never leaves the crease”? It seems perfectly to sum up what is about to befall me . It seems that there are matches on both the Saturday and the Sunday, the temperature will be in the mid 20’s Celsius and I am guaranteed to be selected for one. That will probably be enough. I have played only 4 matches in around 10 years, and 3 of those were in Australia with the Golden Oldies when I was still in my 50’s. Now I am an old codger , I can only hope that my body can match my aspirations.

Chris France

4 Comments leave one →
  1. April 3, 2014 8:11 am

    “both photographs seemed to depict a mature cricketer in two technically very correct stroke making poses was a testament either to the style and poise exhibited by the batsman in question, or the patience of the photographer.”

    Or EVEN, the digital editing skills of the processor !


  2. Rev. Jeff permalink
    April 3, 2014 12:16 pm

    Resplendent in white flannel kit,
    The codger went for a big hit,
    But his face turned bright red,
    He collapsed…he was dead !!
    T’was the ‘stroke’ of a man not that fit !!

    On that cheerful note ….have fun !!!!!


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