One last day with Pakistan
So on Friday, thanks to the munificence and double-booking of mraltariel, I went back to Chester-le-Street for one last day with Pakistan and, this time, England. Much has happened since I saw them beat Australia in Leeds, and much of it will be difficult to undo. Unless they come up with a better defence than I've heard so far, it sounds like life bans for Salman Butt, of whom we hoped so much, and Mohammad Asif, who has previous; I haven't seen anyone except Simon Heffer suggest more than the minimum five years for Mohammad Aamer.
I can't abandon Pakistan. They're my people, even if I don't know exactly why. Have they replaced West Indies in my affections? No, it's not like that was, at all. I don't think I even love them, in the same way that I don't love the English; I just happen to belong to them. Ever since the earthquake in 2005, I've known that, for whatever reason, I also belong to Pakistan. So I'm stuck with them, and just have to sit around waiting for one of their better moments to come along. Actually, it may be Ian Chappell's fault, too - I remember when they won the World Cup in 1992, he delivered a eulogy about how he loved them, because so much of the time they were shouting at each other and getting into a terrible mess, and then suddenly it would all come together and they were magnificent. But it's not just about the cricket, obviously. The flood appeal is still open.
They weren't very good on Friday, and there were hardly any Pakistanis in the crowd - I saw about six. Once the Sky TV cameras had found a small group in the upper tier of a stand, they milked them for all they were worth, and showed pictures of them celebrating every time they got a chance, which wasn't that often. Apart from being so white, it was a good crowd, far more encouraging than what they had in Cardiff for the Twenty20 games.
Anyway, the best thing about the day was that I was able to spend several hours with matildabj, who I hadn't seen for ages. This was the first cricket match she'd attended, so I did my best to explain something of what was happening, in between discussing Sherlock and Mad Men and Doctor Who. I could do with more of this sort of conversation on cricket grounds... she had to leave before the end, but then I chatted with a couple of elderly gents who hadn't seen a game in a while and, having gathered that I was some sort of anorak, got me to explain things like the powerplay and free hits.
Play was delayed for a couple of hours by rain that morning, but it had stopped before I arrived (we just had a brief shower in the afternoon, not heavy enough to drive the players off) and the temperature was very pleasant, so despite the dullness of the game I enjoyed my day. Despite my predictions of boring overpriced food, I found a very nice chaana/aloo curry in the Halal tent, where I paused on my way out to buy some potato pakoras for the journey home. And despite the people jams on the route to the station slowing me down, I made the seven o'clock train home with seconds to spare. (I spent both journeys, morning and evening, re-reading Raffles, and have now come up with a contemporary actor to play Bunny: I think Gareth David-Lloyd would do a nice job. So now I just have to come up with another actor for Raffles who has cold blue eyes, charisma by the bucketful, and isn't Benedict Cumberbatch.)
Anyway, pictures. Not terribly exciting ones. This was England batting; by the crouch, I think the batsman facing is Eoin Morgan.
One of the mild diversions of the day was seeing Pakistan's seven-footer, Mohammad Irfan, on his debut. It was difficult to get a picture showing his height clearly (particularly as he was injured and went off during England's innings) but I hope you can make out that he's bigger than the other men in the field in this one, where he's batting right at the end of the game (the closer of the men in green).
And here's the obligatory Riverside rainbow from the afternoon. Not nearly as good as last year's.
Thanks again to mraltariel and matildabj for giving me a good day!
I can't abandon Pakistan. They're my people, even if I don't know exactly why. Have they replaced West Indies in my affections? No, it's not like that was, at all. I don't think I even love them, in the same way that I don't love the English; I just happen to belong to them. Ever since the earthquake in 2005, I've known that, for whatever reason, I also belong to Pakistan. So I'm stuck with them, and just have to sit around waiting for one of their better moments to come along. Actually, it may be Ian Chappell's fault, too - I remember when they won the World Cup in 1992, he delivered a eulogy about how he loved them, because so much of the time they were shouting at each other and getting into a terrible mess, and then suddenly it would all come together and they were magnificent. But it's not just about the cricket, obviously. The flood appeal is still open.
They weren't very good on Friday, and there were hardly any Pakistanis in the crowd - I saw about six. Once the Sky TV cameras had found a small group in the upper tier of a stand, they milked them for all they were worth, and showed pictures of them celebrating every time they got a chance, which wasn't that often. Apart from being so white, it was a good crowd, far more encouraging than what they had in Cardiff for the Twenty20 games.
Anyway, the best thing about the day was that I was able to spend several hours with matildabj, who I hadn't seen for ages. This was the first cricket match she'd attended, so I did my best to explain something of what was happening, in between discussing Sherlock and Mad Men and Doctor Who. I could do with more of this sort of conversation on cricket grounds... she had to leave before the end, but then I chatted with a couple of elderly gents who hadn't seen a game in a while and, having gathered that I was some sort of anorak, got me to explain things like the powerplay and free hits.
Play was delayed for a couple of hours by rain that morning, but it had stopped before I arrived (we just had a brief shower in the afternoon, not heavy enough to drive the players off) and the temperature was very pleasant, so despite the dullness of the game I enjoyed my day. Despite my predictions of boring overpriced food, I found a very nice chaana/aloo curry in the Halal tent, where I paused on my way out to buy some potato pakoras for the journey home. And despite the people jams on the route to the station slowing me down, I made the seven o'clock train home with seconds to spare. (I spent both journeys, morning and evening, re-reading Raffles, and have now come up with a contemporary actor to play Bunny: I think Gareth David-Lloyd would do a nice job. So now I just have to come up with another actor for Raffles who has cold blue eyes, charisma by the bucketful, and isn't Benedict Cumberbatch.)
Anyway, pictures. Not terribly exciting ones. This was England batting; by the crouch, I think the batsman facing is Eoin Morgan.
One of the mild diversions of the day was seeing Pakistan's seven-footer, Mohammad Irfan, on his debut. It was difficult to get a picture showing his height clearly (particularly as he was injured and went off during England's innings) but I hope you can make out that he's bigger than the other men in the field in this one, where he's batting right at the end of the game (the closer of the men in green).
And here's the obligatory Riverside rainbow from the afternoon. Not nearly as good as last year's.
Thanks again to mraltariel and matildabj for giving me a good day!