The Comeback Tale

I was curiously calm. After nine months away from cricket and no thought at all of ever playing again, I had supposed there would be a few butterflies on my return to the field of play. The worst aspect of the pre-match preparation was worrying about getting through the warm up without pulling a long unused muscle.

We fielded first and after 10 overs the skipper asked me to bowl.

To be honest, I just hoped the first ball didn't get smashed for six. Every fibre creaked as I ran in and turned my arm over. It was OK. It pitched on a decent length and held a good line. Incredibly, it got even better as the batsman pushed forward and lofted it into the hands of extra cover. A wicket with my first ball back out of retirement!

Another victim followed in my fourth over and I managed to run someone out too.

There are rules in cricket to protect young players under sixteen which prevent them bowling more than a few overs at a time. I asked the skipper if there were similar rules for the over forties. He replied in the negative and said simply that I would stop bowling when he told me to stop. However, after eight overs my legs turned to jelly and I could bowl no more.

Later, as I waited to bat, one of my younger team mates offered to brew a cuppa. I was greatly encouraged to witness this new behaviour from the youth section and I ordered a mug at once. He duly brought it to me outside the pavilion but just as I was about to take my first sip, we lost a wicket and I had to go out to bat! I needn't have worried. Five balls, a flattened off stump, and no runs later, I was able to return to the cuppa and it had lost little of its heat.

It is now the morning after my comeback and I can barely walk. But I really don't care.