I was out at the Innellan Cricket Club Annual dinner the other night. A posh meal- an all male affair, with lots of long well libated speeches, lots of belly laughs and shameless in-jokes. It was a strangely alien environment for me.
Many of the people there were former members of the club (or associate members) and so there was a palpable sense of shared history. Matches narrowly won, or almost lost. Catches taken and dropped. Friends now no longer with us.
And of course, drunken cricket tours where men can once again be boys.
It was all good fun.
William was not there, but he was awarded the ‘most improved cricketer’ cup. Never was there a prouder boy (or father.)