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The Test that’s Just Not Cricket

To describe the last few days as testing would be literal in more ways than one. I have after all spent the last 3 days at the 2nd Npower Test Match between England and Pakistan at Edgbaston, whilst my emotional equilibrium has been examined to its limits over the same period.

The Edgbaston Test Match is always very special on a personal level. Having grown up in the Edgbaston suburb of Birmingham, this famous old stadium has been a constant throughout my life. From a toddler, amongst 3 men and his dog, watching my dad play in county matches for Warwickshire, through to the full houses and electric finishes of the Ashes Test Match of 2005 and the 1999 World Cup Semi-Final.

Whilst faces may have changed, what never has is the fact that this quiet suburb comes alive when international cricket arrives in Birmingham. This is why, despite the protestations of some local residents, I am firmly behind the wide scale modernisation of the ground, which has currently left it resembling a building site.

Though I am fortunate enough to watch a lot of cricket around the UK and in more exotic climes, there is nothing that excites me as much as the Edgbaston Test Match. I have been going with the same group of friends for several years now, usually on the Friday and Saturday.

The pattern is predictable, but nevertheless untainted. We do watch nearly every ball bowled, although a fair percentage of that is on the big screen at the back of the ground in the ‘food court’, which oddly enough plays host to several watering holes!

The Guinness Bar is always popular, but if there is a roaring trade to be done in England’s cricket arenas these days, it comes straight from the Caribbean in the shape of the Cockspur Rum Shack, home of the famous Cockspur Mule.

It is inevitable also that you bump into a plethora of people, many of whom you have not seen since last year’s Test Match, and many of whom you will not see until next year’s! Yesterday, I bumped into an old school friend that I had not seen in close to 25 years, and today a University friend that I last saw at our Graduation ball in 2004, both great moments.

I also had the great pleasure of meeting a couple of new friends, in Adam Clarke and Gary Naylor, both of whom I have spoken to at length on Twitter. In Adam’s case, we have met previously at Edgbaston but only in passing. Am truly humbled to have met these fine gentlemen and will look forward to doing so again on many occasions.

Purely in terms of the Test Match, the cricket, and the people around me, it has been a wonderful few days. However, it has been somewhat fraught on a personal level.

It was the first time that I have attended an Edgbaston Test Match in at least 6 years without Dani, the last probably being in 2004 against the West Indies. I was, somewhat inevitably, stopped at every corner, either by well-wishers enquiring as to how I was coping, or by others, unaware of her death in November, asking where and how she was.

In this respect, it was a very difficult few days, and although my friends tried to shield me, I fear that it would have been rude not to speak to people and answer their questions.

It seemed a common opinion that I have inspired many with how I have coped since last November. Whilst I am truly thankful and myself inspired by such kind sentiment, and whilst it may appear to be the case superficially, it is not really so.

Cliché talks of tormented artists producing their best work. I can, in no way, compare myself to Elliott Smith or Vincent Van Gogh, but if my words and thoughts are inspiring to those around me, they are simply the output of a mind in turmoil.

My head is clear, and perfectly capable of making lucid decisions, but my heart and mind bear fresh and unhealed wounds. They say that time is a healer, and I am absolutely sure that this will prove to be correct, but it is of minimal help to me at the moment.

All things said, it has been an incredibly complex weekend, filled with much joy and happiness at being around close friends at a place that is very special to me, cricket and sunshine notwithstanding.

However, it remains illicitly clear that I face a long road ahead in terms of my own personal journey. There will be tears, smiles and Cockspurs along the way, but they will all be faced with a straight bat. To do anything else simply wouldn’t be cricket.