Adult beginners get their first taste of action

Chris Fitzgerald played played his first game of cricket in one of our intra-club friendlies along with six others who came through West of Scotland CC’s Cricket Basics Programme. Below he tells us his experience of taking up the sport he loves at the age of 39.

“Wide! One run!” That was the bellow from my uninspiring high-school PE teacher during the early to mid 1990s. It was a common refrain as my gangly frame struggled to propel a cricket ball from one end of the track to the other. It was also the only direction he ever gave – to anybody.

As a consequence, while my love of watching cricket remained, my hope or desire to actually play the game waned and football became my primary recreational concern.

 The years rolled by and watching my beloved Lancashire and the England national team kept me enthused with cricket into, and through, adulthood, but it wasn’t until last summer – watching the heroics and drama of the England team at the World Cup and during the subsequent Ashes series – that I thought, finally, “I really want to give this a go again.”

 The problem was, I was approaching 40 and my fitness had slid off a precipice (three children will do that to you). Having moved to Scotland and been a sports reporter in the intervening years, I knew there was a cricket scene here, but I didn’t think it would cater for a middle-aged chap with almost no experience.

 I was wrong. A cursory Google search threw up the name David Hinchliffe at West of Scotland Cricket Club, a coach who offered to spend time with any individual, no matter what their capability.

 When contacted, he told me he had heard from others, of varying ages, but all with the same desire – to play cricket for the first time – and suggested we formed a group.

 I went along to the first session and, despite being the oldest there, any nerves were quickly put to rest – the assembled group of men and women were a thoroughly decent bunch and had all been motivated to attend by a shared love of cricket. There were no egos here. No alpha behaviour commonly associated with sports clubs.

 David, along with fellow coach Mike Ashworth, began to introduce us to the playing side of the game in an accessible but structured way that was denied to me at school. There was a focus on technique in each of the disciplines of the game and then an abundance of patience as you sought to hone it. This was a trait shared by the participants, too. Everybody was supportive and everybody shared in each other’s progress.

 Unfortunately, the coronavirus pandemic put paid to these sessions in early March and also to my ambition to play in a fun, friendly game of cricket on an actual proper pitch… or so I thought.

 Mike kept in touch with our group throughout the resulting lockdown, maintaining our interest, and worked hard behind the scenes, along with Chris Ross, to facilitate a match situation for us. Eventually it was announced in July that we would be able to take part in an intra-club friendly, with an overall ability level not too far away from where we were at.

 I was naturally nervous, having not bowled a ball or wielded a bat under supervision since March, but at the same time I felt a genuine excitement that, at long last, I could step out onto a field within the confines of a bona fide cricket ground and ‘have a go’.

 As the assembled players turned up prior to the toss – a mix of beginners, academy players and more experienced club members – we were separated into two (socially distanced) teams and familiarised with the terms of play in what would be a 30-over match.

 My team opted to bat first and my captain, Ben Cole, asked if I wanted to go in at three. I told him he was a brave man but I was game if he was. As it transpired, I didn’t have to wait long to enter the fray. The departing batsman had no words of comfort for me but his follow opener did. He put me at ease right away, knowing that I was an absolute novice, and, basically, let me get on with it with no pressure. I’d like to say I then set about the bowling attack like a five-year-old after five litres of Fanta, but, alas, no. While I lasted for three or four overs, and got bat on ball numerous times, I contributed a solitary leg bye to the team’s total before being trapped LBW by a very straight delivery from one of the talented academy players.

 Ah well, better luck in the field then?

 To some degree, yes. I threw myself into the fielding with gusto, chasing down everything that came near me or over me. That won me some applause and, ergo, a confidence boost. Then I got tossed the ball by the captain and was allowed three overs of bowling. Those words from my former PE teacher came ringing back. I shook them away and delivered my first over. Nice, medium(ish) pace, all on a good line and some even on a half-decent length, but nothing to trouble the batsmen. Still, I gave away no extras and the captain seemed happy with the speed I got through it. My second over was a bit of a disaster. I should have just stayed true to the first, but I tried to force it. I felt my shoulder ping a bit and then suffered a case of the yips. The ball went everywhere. The captain kept faith in me and let me have a third over. I shook off the shoulder niggle and fired in another six. Although the line was inconsistent with this one, it was probably my best over. I even managed to beat the bat on one occasion. “Something to work with,” I believe is the old adage.

In the end our team lost, but not by much. I left the field sore, sweaty and pink from the sun, but thoroughly ebullient (and that was before I got to the bar). I had fulfilled a bucket list ambition at 40.

 I’ve got the bug now (no, not that one) and cannot wait for my next outing for the Baggy Roon. It is genuinely fantastic that a cricket club in Scotland has facilitated a route for beginners of all ages to have a crack at what is a very social game in a low-pressure and fun environment.