Sunday, 2 September 2007


Am sitting here on a Sunday evening after another manic weekend devoted entirely to cricket.

Friday evening was Presentation Night - a few games for the kids, a few beers for the grown ups. All very convivial. Number 4 son got a player of the year award for his age group. Have to admit husband and I looked at each other in shear amazement. We know he's keen but in all honesty with work, other commitments and coaching the older lads, we haven't seen him play. Was chuffed to bits for him.

Saturday morning was more games for the kids, lunch was laid on by all the parents so copious amounts of eggy sandwiches had to be provided. The afternoon was a Presidents eleven against the home side. Wasn't the most competitive of games and when husband shouted "drinks" to me, I don't think the reply of "southern comfort" was the one he expected! Again a pleasant time was had by all.

The evening brought Race Night. Now horse racing leaves me cold, just don't get it. Perhaps it is further proof of my pleb background that the sport of kings just isn't my bag. However, having bet 50p on some random nag my competitive streak emerged with avengence. Lost every bloody race - even my 13 year old son was more successful. (Note to self, ensure all online gambling sites are blocked!)

So to Sunday morning and an under 9's soft ball competion between some local sides. Our first opportunity to witness number 4 son displaying his prowess..... Well the boy done good. Bowling is a bit dodgy (lollipops was the verdict of those in the know), fielding was definitely enthusiastic (lots of green stains to be "Ace'd") but it was the batting that really caught the eye. My little chunk really looks the part. Has that childish desire to hit every ball into the middle of next week, or rather the cow field next to the ground but hey, the bare bones are there. Was so proud.

Onto the afternoon when the side that number one son plays in were in the under 17's final. Now even with my maternal rose tinted glasses on I know that he's no Freddie Flintoff but, having had a "stroke" at the age of 18 months, to see him play any sport at any level is enough to reduce me to a sobbing wreck so today was fairly momentous. Of course, they lost...... As a team they played pretty well apart from one brainless oik who decided to run three of his team mates out and destroy any chance of chasing a total that, thanks to the batsmen higher up the order, was imminently achievable. Bitter me, no!!!! Did I forget to mention that number 1 son was one of the oik's victims. Cricket is a bloody silly game and I can never see it catching on!!


Swearing Mother said...

What a great weekend you all had! I miss those sporty weekends now my tennis playing son and I don't take on the other mums and sons/daughters at our local club any more.

We go up the pub together now instead!

Self employed mum said...

Manic - you have the title right! I love to hear other people have whirlwind lifes too. Think we should all buy red sports cars and go off into the sunset with a handsome 20 something hunk with a tanned sixpack.... sorry fell into la la again. Back to work!