M Fleming: Talking Cricket (25 Jul 1998)
IT WAS going to be such a perfect day
25-Jul-1998
25 July 1998
Talking Cricket
Matthew Fleming
IT WAS going to be such a perfect day. Thursday, the Trent Bridge Test
starting, a day off for me, the children's last day at school, my wife
booked in for a trim and highlights with Martin, and the lawnmower in
dry dock. Plenty of time to nip to the shops and stock up with
essentials.
With three shuttles an hour, the franc at 9.80 to the pound and Calais
having such copious quantities of the essentials it seemed such a
natural thing to do. Throw in the added bonus of the time difference,
I could leave the French warehouse at 11 and still be back in time for
the first ball.
Surely anyone could see the merits of this plan. "KISS" had been the
secret of success in the army - keep it simple stupid, and this was
simplicity itself. 8.51 shuttle, 9.30 arrivi Calais, 9.45 wine
warehouse, 11.00 shuttle, 10.50 arrivi chez moi. Kettle, twiglets,
morning session.
All went swimmingly, so to speak, until having been "completing our
final checks" for some 20 minutes in Folkestone the dreaded
announcement "nous regrettons ..."
My already tight timetable was being squeezed to its limits. To cut a
long story and my search for the ultimate white Burgundy short, I
found myself at 10.55, English time, losing all semblance of control
in Calais. Le Shuttle was indeed singular as due to a technical fault
they were only running one per hour.
I was rapidly being enveloped by a familiar red mist as the true
helplessness of my position sunk in. Miles, almost fathoms, from my
rightful spot. The armchair, remote at the ready. I was stuck in a car
full of wine with no corkscrew.
Like the idiot I am I didn't remember Radio 4 longwave and Test Match
special until just after 11.00. It was like a comforting blanket of
Englishness; John Agnew merrily informing the listeners of what looked
like a particularly nasty shower sweeping in from the Vale of Belvoir,
Bill Frindall effortlessly plucking statistics from nowhere, and
somehow most comforting of all, Trevor Bailey, being, well, Trevor
Bailey.
Fortunately the Euro tunnel engineers were on top form and just as
Trevor was berating the selectors and adding up the number of players
who had represented England, or been in the squad, this summer, we
boarded and I lost the signal. Despite flicking to 98 point something
to listen to Radio Le Shuttle, with "music and information", there
were no score updates from Nottingham during the crossing. I
eventually cleared the Folkestone terminal just in time to hear
'Blowers' take us to the one o'clock shipping forecast and got home
none the wiser.
I had not had time to read Wednesday's papers and took advantage of
the lunch break to catch up with the news. As should be the habit of
all floundering would be journalists I turned immediately to
'Personally Speaking', the column so eloquently penned by one of the
Daily Telegraph's elder statesmen E W Swanton. Despite a 60-year age
gap which conjures up the odd difference of opinion I respect Jim's
views enormously. On this occasion, however, Jim has waved the red rag
so provocatively that I feel I must play the bull to his matador.
To write "in the scramble for players, salaries would continue to
rise, probably sharply; hence the support of the Professional
Cricketers Association" when discussing the cons and cons of a two
divisional structure for championship cricket suggests that the PCA
and their members are purely financially motivated.
THIS is unfair. I would be lying if I said that players wages, and
just as importantly their overall package, was not of significance to
us. It is however not the be all and end all. The PCA fully
understand that they are merely a temporary custodian of the great
game of cricket, and that their members can only improve their
circumstances as long as the game as a whole evolves, improves, and
ultimately flourishes.
Jim, the PCA, and all cricket lovers I suspect, want the same thing: a
vibrant, healthy game and a successful national team. Our final
destination is therefore the same, our chosen routes however differ
widely.
Our yearning for change, foolhardy and reckless though it may seem to
some, is not driven by greed but by the very real desire to achieve
that same goal. The fact that the PCA are taking the high road to
Jim's low road should not make us gluttons. We have debated this
responsibly and at length. We are not greedy villains. Indeed if we
have committed a crime it is just to disagree.
Source :: Electronic Telegraph (https://www.telegraph.co.uk)