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 A day in the life…                            The man who makes up the numbers

It all kicks off on Friday night…

 Fri, 5:36 pm             Leaving work. Spent most of the afternoon wondering what to do with the weekend. Might watch sport on the telly. Might go watch the boys play their league game. Check mobile one last time to see if I’ve missed the call to play. Go to pub with Dave from Finance.

 Fri, 7:16pm              Dave’s company isn’t much cop. Quite frankly he’s boring the life out of me but I haven’t the foggiest idea where everyone else goes for a drink after work.

 Fri, 10:39pm            Dave seems to get funnier as the night goes on. I’m starting to feel a bit queasy. Haven’t had any dinner. Still waiting for Dave to buy me a pint.

 Fri, 11:12pm            Bumped my head on the way out of the pub trying to say goodbye to the naughty looking barmaid. Not sure what time she started. She certainly wasn’t there when we went in. Heading off to the Chinese. Gonna get my Friday usual.

Sat, 9:56am             Woke up slouched on the sofa with tissue seemingly glued solidly to my stomach. Hungry now. Might heat up last night’s Chicken Chow Mein. There’s a funny smell in here. Did Dave from Finance follow me home?

Sat, 10:39am           Should probably wake up properly. I might still get a call to play today so I really ought to do my kitbag. I take great care in the upkeep of my cricket kit. I have undoubtedly the cleanest kit out of anyone at the club. I think I might be the only person who presses their shirts as well.

Sat, 11:16am           Just waiting for the call, really.

Sat, 11:45am           Still waiting. Getting a bit restless if I have to be honest. I’ve put my kitbag by the door just to play safe.

Sat, 12:28pm           Was just making a line call between Star Trek or Buck Rogers and the call came. I knew that there must have been some misunderstanding. The skip told me that I was vital to the club and that it wouldn’t run without people like me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants me to take the dreaded number 3 slot.

Sat, 1:27pm             I’m batting number 11 as it turns out. Still, I made sure that the oppo’s scorer knew how to spell everyone’s names. I made sure she knew that I was batting low because I hadn’t played for a while and needed to get back in to it before I moved up the order. She seemed faintly more interested in that line of conversation than she did when I told her about my new Ford Orion. I thought it was a snip. Frankly, a classic 1991 Ghia for under £1000 is, by anyone’s terms, a real find. I can’t believe Dave from Finance was willing to sell it.

Sat, 2:20pm             I know the favourite shots of our openers like the back of my hand and I set the boundary accordingly. They’re making hay. I noticed, however, that several of the regulars aren’t here. Perhaps I was picked over them.

Sat, 4:37pm                  I’m padded up as we’re 8 down. Fairly nervous to be honest. Might pop in to the net and get someone to throw a few down at me.

 Sat, 4:38pm                  Turns out everyone’s a bit tired actually so I might just do some mental preparation.

 Sat, 4:40pm                  I’m striding to the crease. I can tell that everyone is impressed by my gleaming kit. They might even have noticed that it’s all by the same manufacturer. They might think I’m sponsored. I think I’m going to ask for middle and leg.

 Sat, 4:43pm                  The tea looks smashing. I’ve gone largely for cake. I might have as much as I can because I’m fairly sure the only food I have at home is last night’s Chicken Chow Mein. People are mainly talking to each other so I take the opportunity to read everyone the football scores. I think it was appreciated.

 Sat, 5pm                  I’m warming up frantically because I need to be ready to bowl when asked. I hope the skipper sees me. Might go out to the middle and throw some balls down. That’s bound to catch his attention.

 Sat, 5:41pm             Doesn’t look good. We’re being caned. I’m explaining to the umpire at square leg what the skipper really ought to be doing. Couldn’t work out whether he was more interested in hearing about the Orion or my cheeky off-spin. Will probably get a chance to test it out soon.

Sat, 5:42pm             Skipper moves me away from the umpire and down to fine-leg. Interesting tactics. Let’s see how this pans out.

Sat, 5:48pm             Looks like I’ve done a good job as he wants me to take fine-leg the next over too.

Sat, 6pm                  Thank God for the drinks break. Running fine leg to fine leg is quite some effort! Perhaps I shouldn’t have had all those cakes. I take the opportunity to log some time with myself and check out the pitch whilst everyone else talks amongst themselves.

Sat 6:20pm              We’re really getting nailed. They only need 12 runs now with 11 overs left and they’re only 4 down. The skipper’s given me the nod. He must have quite some confidence in me. I take the ball feeling like a dream turnaround is on the cards.

Sat 6:31pm              Can’t believe the scorer gave those leg-byes as runs against me! I made sure that I copied up our book and corrected my figures accordingly. That made it just the 10 runs from the over, which, given the circumstances, was a sound return.

Sat 7pm                   I’m first in the pub so I set myself up with a pint. The oppo seem to be a lot chattier than my team-mates. Might just make it the one and shuffle off home. I make certain to tell the skipper that I’m available for the next few weeks on the way out. He doesn’t seem to notice. I think he’s still quite disappointed at the result. I’ll wait ‘til he calls me.

Sat 9pm                   Chicken Chow Mein for dinner. Hmm. Wonder if Dave from Finance fancies a beer. Best clean up these tissues.

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