Chapter 2

The first day of the Cricket match between Glamorgan and Essex at Sophia Gardens dawned bright and sunny.

At breakfast, I asked the girls if they wanted to come along and watch. Vee said a bad word and declined, but Sian and Julie had never been to a game of cricket before, so were interested enough to agree to accompany me, especially when I offered to buy them lunch.

"I think it's an eleven-o'clock start, so if we meander over about half-ten, we'll be able to get a glass of beer and be in plenty of time for them to come out."

Sian and Julie had changed into short skirts and bright summer tops; they were clearly going to top up their sun tans, given half a chance.

I enjoyed our stroll through the city centre and Bute Park; the girls got many an admiring glance on the way. Having said that, there were quite a few other pretty girls in summer clothes for me to look at as well!

Malcom's eyes nearly popped out when he saw us; I reintroduced him to Sian and then explained that Julie was my girlfriend. He had met Sian when he got me the extra ticket for the Pink Floyd concert; Vee and Julie had both been out when we went back to the house for a cuppa.

"I thought if the girls were here to get the beers in for us, we wouldn't have to miss a ball. My Dad swears that every time he has to go inside for a refill, the game hots up, and by the time he is back in his seat he's missed either three wickets or twenty runs!"

Sian picked up my hand, and Julie smacked my wrist. Malcolm chuckled.

"You do realise how much trouble we'll be in if it gets out to the wider world that, raher than mow the grass or do summer chores at home, men prefer going to cricket matches to sit in the sun, natter and drink beer?

"Go on then, Jon, hurry up and get the beers in - Sian and I are going to do the sitting in the sun and nattering!"

Julie's smile was so wide that Malcolm and I set off for the bar immediately.

"You don't mind that I brought the girls, do you, Malcolm?"

"No, the more the merrier as far as I'm concerned, though I think we're going to get some grief from them if the game is a bit slow!"

"Nah, as she said, they're just very happy to sit in the sun and natter!"

The four of us sipped our first beer. Eleven o'clock seemed a bit early in the day to be drinking, but it was a good six hours after dawn, and the sun was already shining high in the sky.

The morning was warming up nicely for the beginning of June, and the swallows were darting across the pitch in search of the insects disturbed as the final covers were taken off the square.

The bunch of seagulls resting in the outfield showed little interest in what was going on, only flying up if one of the groundsmen got too close for comfort.

"This sitting in the sun drinking feels so lazy and self-indulgent, that I begin to understand why you men do it!"

Malcolm and I asked if they wanted an explanation of the rules - sorry, The Laws - of Cricket. Sian said that they would ask us if they didn't understand anything.

"It's basically rounders, isn't it?"

I saw the grin on Sian's face as she teased him; Malcolm unfortunately didn't.

"It's nothing at all like rounders; you're thinking of baseball!"

I tried thinking of an old definition of cricket I had heard many years before; it ran something like:

'When it's your turn to be in, you go out, and you're in until you're out, and then you come in, and the next bloke goes out and he's in until he's out, and then he comes in, and once you've all been in and out, the other side goes in until they're out, or until you all come in for tea!'

But I decided not to try and repeat it, and I held my peace as Malcolm tried to explain the differences between rounders and cricket to Sian, who was being deliberately obtuse.

Eventually she couldn't hold her laughter any longer, and had to confess that she'd been winding him up. She did have the grace to apologise, and offered to buy the next round, so they were instantly friends again.

Essex won the toss and went in to bat first, and made a slow and cautious start. After about four overs, the pace picked up a little, and the ball started to move. One of the opening batsmen nicked the ball to slip, and it was snatched up. There was applause, and the batsman walked.

"What happened then?"

"He just nudged the ball with his bat, and it was caught by a fielder before it hit the ground, so he's out."

"I didn't see a thing!"

"That is the trouble with this game; you have to keep watching, and the moment you get distracted something happens!"

The new batsman played himself in; there was almost a run-out in the next over as the two batsmen misunderstood each other, but then they started piling on a few steady runs at an easy rate of five or six runs an over. The pitch had now dried out and was playing evenly, and the pace bowlers were given a spell.

"Why do these new bowlers take such a long run up?"

"They're trying to beat the bat with speed and intimidation, whereas the last one was trying to spin the ball as it left his hand so it would move away from the bat as it touched the grass, more brain than the brawn we're seeing now."

The brawn theory was immediately proved, as the wicket-keeper fluffed a hold and the ball went straight down to the boundary for four leg byes.

"Now I've seen everything! Why is the referee pointing his leg at the crowd?"

"The UMPIRE is signalling a leg bye; it counts as a run even though the batsman didn't hit it, but doesn't add to their scores. 'Leg' basically means that it went in front of the batsman, rather than the other side or 'off'. In this case, as it went over the boundary rope, it's four leg byes."

"Crikey, it's complicated! You don't get these problems with rounders!"

"I'd tickle her, if I were you, Malcolm, you aren't going to be able to win this argument with logic!"

Sian stuck her tongue out at me, and then smiled.

As was to be expected, the run rate increased as the pace bowlers continued - if the batsman did manage to connect with the fast moving ball, it almost always went far enough for a couple of runs to be made.

Essex's fifty appeared on the score board to desultory applause, and the runs kept coming slowly and surely.

The two batsmen seemed to have established themselves. There was the odd close call, and a dropped catch at slip, but the bowlers were tiring and a change was made.

One of the Essex batsmen - I think it was either Keith Fletcher or Graham Gooch - hit the first six of the game, and as the ball landed in the stand there was a huge cheer from all the spectators, Essex and Glamorgan alike, and a few shouts.

"You can do it Malcolm!"

"Give him another easy one!"

And of course, to the tune of 'Nice One Cyril', a chorus of:

"Nice one Malcolm, nice one Son, nice one Malcolm, let's have another one!"

Sian asked why the crowd had so suddenly come to life, and why even the umpire had held his hands up in the air.

Our Malcolm explained.

"The easy bit to answer is that holding both arms up in the air is the umpire signalling to the scorers that it was a six. They can't always tell what happened from their scoring box below the scoreboard, so anything more complicated than a normal run is signalled."

"Now, the uproar among the spectators is because the bowler is Malcolm Nash, and about five years ago he was playing at Swansea against Gary Sobers, the West Indian Test batsman. Sobers was in great form, and took a six off the first ball of the over, and then the second, and in fact all six balls. 36 runs from an over is very rare, and poor old Nash will always be remembered for being the bowler who was unfortunate enough to be facing the great man at the time. The fans certainly will never let him forget it!"