When people reach some kind of landmark or anniversary, it's usually the signal for a review of the relevant period. Well, since my blog has been going for less than four years, that doesn't leave me with much to review. OK, so things can change a lot in such a short time. England have gone from heroes to zero, Tendulkar, Dravid, Kallis and Ponting have all retired from proper cricket and, while my hair has turned greyer, Shane Warne's teeth have become even whiter. However, instead I'm going on a cut-down nostalgia trip, so please indulge me....
I'm not sure when I first became interested in cricket. I certainly have photos of me with a little, hand-carved bat in various family gardens aged six or seven. Similarly I don't recall exactly when I started watching on television. I do remember seeing news snippets of England's Ashes tour in the winter of 1971/72, and my support of Somerset began after returning from a fortnight in Minehead. In those days, Somerset were invariably at or close to the bottom of the County Championship - a single-division format in those days.
The West Indies tour of these shores in 1973 made an impression on me. Clive Lloyd's athleticism, Gary Sobers' languid style and exotic fast bowlers began a long-lasting relationship with Caribbean cricket. My first trip to an actual cricket ground came on 4th May 1975, when Dad took me to see Brian Close's Somerset at Chelmsford, several miles from my home in Billericay, for a Sunday league 40-over match against Keith Fletcher's Essex. Graham Gooch was a green batsman at number four (he scored eight) and Ian Botham was an even less experienced bowler (2-32) who batted at eight (bowled Edmeades 3). The over-riding memory, apart from the wooden planks for seats, was the 46 not out by a certain Viv Richards, who clumped a Ray East delivery into the Chelmer to win the match for my team and become my sporting hero. 39 years later, he still is.
I've never been patriotic when it comes to sport, and cricket is no exception. I supported the West Indies against England in 1976 and had more respect for Lillee, Alderman and Border than Botham, Brearley and Willis in the famous 1981 Ashes. My love of Caribbean cricket took a wobble when their over rates slumped to twelve an hour, which caused uproar in England in the late '70s. With the dreary commercialism of the IPL and Anderson and Broad forever inspecting their footwear these days, twelve an hour looks positively rapid.
The first time I went to a Test match was for England v Sri Lanka at Lord's in 1990. Not because of the quality of the opposition (SL were cannon fodder at the time) but because I judged correctly that I'd be able to queue for tickets with no problem. I had a great view from the Nursery End on a hot August Bank Holiday weekend and enjoyed it immensely. I saw a few Twenty 20s in the 'noughties', beginning with, I think, Middlesex v Surrey on another baking London evening. It was a post-work treat after details of the redundancies and restructure were announced at the BBC where I worked at the time. I can't even remember who won, but Tim Murtagh took several wickets so it was probably the home side.
My first ODI took more another 21 years, and those amazing Indian supporters at Cardiff were even more entertaining than Dhawan, De Villiers et al in that Champions Trophy opener against South Africa. It was even better to watch as an official neutral although I was an India convert long before the end. My neighbours in the stands saw to that!
The West Indies are much harder to love these days and it's hardly surprising that the routine sledging has progressed to the handbags between Anderson and Jadeja, to name just two. T20 franchise competitions and the BCCI are rapidly taking over, and the game is clogging up with sportsmen who are happier to travel the world for a few swings of the bat or four-over bowling practice in return for millions of dollars. Good luck to them, but don't seek my sympathy when you're accused of not being a team player. Take note, Mr Pietersen!
TV stations have desperately tried to invent new statistics to match the improved technology at their fingertips. 'Manhattan'? 'WASP'? Strike and economy rates are welcome additions to the minimalistic slavery to aggregates and averages of a few decades ago.
At least there will always be exciting players to watch and I'm not going to rant on about it all being so much better 'in my day'. For every Marshall, Imran, Kapil Dev and Gower, there's a Steyn, Jayawardene, Johnson and Kohli to keep my relationship with cricket alive as ever. I haven't given up the blog so I'll continue to monitor the game, especially the county game as this is being increasingly marginalised. The more commentators knock it, the more I'll stand up for it. When it's gone, it's gone, and it doesn't deserve to become extinct. It's too important than that. So, too, is sportsmanship and we don't need pushing, shoving and silly disputes as witnessed by Jimmy v Ravi. Whether I last another 500, I can't say, but I hope there's enough in cricket to maintain my love of the game.
