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~ Settled back in Jersey, heart still in Ireland….

Back On The Rock

Category Archives: Cricket

Write What You Know?

13 Saturday Oct 2018

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Cricket, Writing

≈ 18 Comments

The common advice to ‘Write What You Know’ really is lazy, negative and limiting. The whole idea of creative writing is to explore new ideas, learn new storytelling techniques and to engage the reader. But admittedly, one’s writing is coloured by life’s experiences. And occasionally I have unashamedly fallen back on the comfort blanket of that bad advice.
My debut novel Barry features an Irish character, Jimmy. Now Jimmy had a shady background – certain persons want him eliminated. Changing his appearance, he rocks up in Birmingham and ends up working as an assistant groundsman at Edgbaston, home of Warwickshire County Cricket Club. I watched plenty of cricket there in my younger days.

warwickshire crket1
So anyway, Jimmy got a job at Edgbaston. Here is a paragraph describing his days there.

warwickshire crket2
‘He continued to work at the County Ground and was enjoying the outdoor life. Still, he was the cod Irishman who was puzzled by everything about the game of cricket. Though he naturally sided with Warwickshire and now recognised most of the players, he relied on his work colleagues or the reaction of the few people in the seats to tell him when the team were doing well. He realised that it was a good thing if a local man whacked the ball to the boundary, thus earning four runs. And if a Warwickshire bowler managed to knock down the stumps with the ball that was good also. But for the rest he was lost, though quite content to remain so. He no longer worried why, if the match was a draw at the end of four days, there was no extra time or replay. He was happy to follow orders, to enjoy his work and the company of the other lads and then pick up his money.’

warwickshire crket3
Happy to hear your views on whether that common advice accords with mine.

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Cricket report

08 Saturday Jan 2011

Posted by Roy McCarthy in Cricket, Ireland

≈ Leave a comment

The Irish Health Service has been in a state of crisis for as long as anyone can remember, reaching well back into the days when the country had plenty of funds to sort it out. The country’s political setup, much like party politics everywhere, is such that most of the energy is put into obtaining and retaining power. Despite plenty of posturing and wringing of hands the established institutions rumble on with great rewards and bonuses for those at the top whilst the footsoldiers battle on as best they can amidst the mayhem. Only if they implode entirely, like the banks, is there a chance of change.

Speaking to a friend in Cork last night I commented that, without health insurance, in Ireland I’d end up on a trolley in a hospital corridor. ‘You’d be the lucky one’ she said. Now apparently they’ve run out of trolleys and patients are living on the staircases in the Mater Hospital, Dublin. Promotion to a trolley is the height of ambition. Oh, and if you want to be sick whilst you’re there then you better bring your own bowl.

Anyway, have you perfected the Sprinkler Dance yet? It’s a strange, warm feeling to be basking in the Ready-Brek glow of an Ashes victory, in Australia. And not just a victory but a comprehensive stuffing.

(Years ago on a beautiful sunny afternoon at the FB Fields I was standing in the covers with team mate John Gleave as yet another shot bisected us and the ball disappeared in the direction of Plat Douet Road. After a token chase we returned to our positions and looked at each other to consider the matter. ‘It’s a lovely day’ we concluded ‘to get stuffed at cricket.’)

So yes, the Aussies took one hell of a beating and no one’s feeling sorry for them. Such is their plight at the moment that they made a competent England team look like world beaters. All sorts of batting records were surpassed and the Aussies spent many days in the hot sun watching their elite bowlers chuck pies at Cook & Co. It was so one-sided that my main curiosity was in listening to the Barmy Army which seemed to grow in strength as the tour went on. Astonishingly this lot now seem to be accepted as part of the international game. They’ve acquired some sort of respectability, even with the England team and with the BBC. Rather than being looked upon as a football-type rabble they are now apparently ‘England’s 12th man.’

I don’t know, I have my doubts. In my day Test cricket was played in a hushed atmosphere. You were allowed to talk or clap once the ball had been bowled but were shushed again as the bowler reached the end of his run up. That started to change with the great West Indian sides and their noisy, colourful support. But it’s now degenerated so that drinking beer, blowing trumpets and bawling ‘amusing’ songs is considered respectable.

Each to their own, but the first run-through of The Mitchell Johnson Song is mildly funny. We All Shagged Matilda would be quite good if there were verses and not just the chorus. But on the whole I think I’ll listen to cricket on the radio where at least most of the din is filtered out. Am I getting old?

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