What a shocker ...

TALKING of embarrassing cricketing moments, I have my own shocker.

I was a typical village cricketer: nice kit but not over blessed with talent. Very much a second elevener, a clumsy wicketkeeper who fancied himself as a opening bat. I did get the occasional outing with the 1st X1 , accepting any invitation to play the sport which dominated so many summers in the 1970s and 80s. But I knew my place.

I had my moments, notably a hat-trick of slip catches at Chardstock where Mark Parris was bowling furiously down the slope. In fact, two of the catches bounced off my fellow slip fielder and great cricketing pal, John Stamp.

The other big moment - and also one of the most disappointing  - was when I was caught on the boundary for 94, the nearest I came to scoring a ton. As I was well into my fifties at the time, I knew it was my last chance for that elusive century. In the bar afterwards one of my daughters said: "Don't worry Dad, it's only a game." What do girls know!

My most embarrassing moment came in a midweek final being played at Seaton. The light was fading and the opposition needed just four runs to snatch victory. With just one ball left to bowl, some of our players were starting the celebration.

But they hadn't factored in one mad yet comical moment from yours truly. I was fielding in the gully. The batsmen just swung in hope and the ball was skied in my direction. Although it was difficult to see I got in place to take the catch and win the game. I would be the hero of the day. But I spilled it. All I had to do was to pick it up and throw it into the keeper. We would still have won the game.

But no. Don't ask me why but as the ball tumbled out of my hands I tried to volley it into the hands of Rodney Rowe who was fast approaching, thinking he might well have been able to get to what was definitely my catch. I connected with the ball perfectly and volleyed it beautifully over the boundary for four runs, giving our opponents  an unexpected and undeserved victory.  I had never connected so sweetly with the ball in all the years I played football.

Rodney looked dumbfounded. John Stamp hollered out "twat" which just about summed it up. 

I was crestfallen in the dressing room where no one spoke to me. I packed my kit and went home. Later Martin Rowe called at my flat and told me to forget about it and come out and drown my sorrows. I couldn't even do that.

When it mattered most I let down my team. And for a sportsman, even those with modest talent, there's no worse feeling.

Cricket's a great leveller

THERE'S one sure thing about playing cricket. No matter how good you think you are, the sport will always bring your ego tumbling down. It might be a rogue ball which keeps low and demolishes your middle stump. It will almost certainly be a simple catch when the ball just tumbles out of your hand without explanation.

It happens to all cricketers, no matter what level you play at.

I couldn't help cogitating on the downfalls of playing cricket when I first heard that Kevin Pieterson and Andrew Flintoff had become the game's first million dollar cricketers in the obscene auction that took place for the Indian Premier League.

I wondered what the other England players really thought when Pieterson and Flintoff arrived in the England dressing room for the first test against the West Indies at Sabina Park. There would have been the usually joshing but I bet a few of them were thinking:  "Wouldn't it be ironic if they failed to trouble the scorer today with bat and ball."

In the first innings Pieterson was out in swashbuckling fashion on 97 - an innings that was praised and condemned in equal measures for the irresponsible shot he played when getting out. Flintoff contributed a modest six runs to the total. He did manage to grab a couple of wickets in the Windies' reply which gave them a 74-run lead.

Highly fancied England (unbeaten by the West Indies for nine years and 17 tests) would have been pleased with that. Then cricket did what cricket often does. It brings you down with a thumping great bump.

England were skittled out for just 51 runs with Flintoff getting six and Pieterson one. Million pound flops, you might say.

By all accounts there was a lot of bickering among the players. What influence did the elevation of Pieterson and Flintood to cricket's millionaire club have on the mood of the England camp? It's a question worth asking.

Actually, although I thought Pieterson was the wrong choice for captain (I prefer Englishmen in that particular role), I am a great fan of his. Every successful test team needs an impulsive player, exuding insufferable confidence. He's the modern-day Ian Botham, or as near as you can get to the world's greatest all-rounder.

Flintoff, too, is a great cricketer, both with bat and ball, more in the Botham mode when it comes to the after-match wind down/celebrations/fight.

England will have to put behind them their embarrassing second innings in Jamaica and there's still much to look forward to from this Caribbean tour.

As for the Indian Premier League, whilst I'm a bit of a traditionalist as far as cricket is concerned, you can't expect our most talented young cricketers to miss out on such wealth. I just don't want cricket to down the same greedy road as the English Premier football league which will implode in the not too distant future if severe action is not taken.

But that's another story ...