The Sunday Telegraph

Howzat! Smell of grass, leather and sweat is nectar

- By James Holland James Holland’s latest book, Sicily ’43: The Assault on Fortress Europe, will be published by Transworld in September

That familiar smell: grass cuttings, sweat, leather, linseed oil, mustiness. Deep breath – ah, nectar

‘This has already been the best day since lockdown began,” says my 18-year-old son as we get our kit ready for the afternoon’s match, the first of Chalke Valley CC’s season, and the first day since Covid-19 restrictio­ns stopping play were finally lifted across the country. “I’m just so excited.”

Me, too, I assure him – and so, too, our club. Banter on the WhatsApp group has been in overdrive. Mark the groundsman has been kept busy cutting, trimming, rolling and marking following the Prime Minister’s reverse sweep at the start of the month which allowed club cricket to return this weekend, having previously suggested that play was “not safe”.

Like many, I scoffed at the notion a cricket ball is a vector of disease – how so more than a tennis ball or basketball?

How could anyone catch the pestilence when playing in a wide open field in the middle of the Wiltshire countrysid­e?

But how sweet is the feeling today. There is no league this summer, but we have a hastily arranged roster of interclub matches and games every weekend to come.

Today, it’s 40 overs each side as per the league, Chairman’s XI vs the rest of the Club. Since I’m chairman, I’m captaining one of the sides, and am thrilled to be doing so.

The ground looks immaculate. We’re lucky – it’s a stunning place, lined by immutable chalk downs one side, church on the other, views up the valley and not a road to be seen.

That familiar smell: grass cuttings, sweat, leather, linseed oil, a bit of mustiness. Deep breath – ah, nectar.

We divvied up the players a couple of days ago to give everyone the chance to generate competitiv­e juices.

When the lads start arriving, it’s not in shorts and T-shirts as usual but already in whites, as in Covid UK changing rooms are verboten. But everyone is so happy, no one cares.

After some Test match chat, the bowling machine is set up in the nets and I go out for the toss – and lose (I’d have probably fielded anyway).

Like Ben Stokes, I make to shake my opponent Ian’s hand, then remember in time and we knock elbows instead.

The sun is out, I have a beautiful shiny new ball in my hand and the game is about to start. This really is wonderful. At last. Allelulia.

The first ball is bowled beautifull­y – no sign of rust at all.

Big Glenn is aching and creaking after 110 days of lockdown, but a youngster, Will, has put on a yard of pace; another nipper has bowled with cheering promise for the future.

We have a total to chase as we munch our egg-and-cress sandwiches – tea in the pavilion is a bring-yourown, socially distanced affair.

I’m batting No4, and am feeling a few nerves. There are more people gathered to watch our match today than the first Test between England and West Indies down the road in Southampto­n.

The sun really has shone on club cricket and the Chalke Valley today.

 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Recreation­al cricket resumed yesterday. Among the matches were Pershore CC v Stratford-upon-Avon CC, above, a spectator and his dogs watch Henley v Wargrave, right, and the ball is sanitised as Lyndhurst take on Sway, left.
Recreation­al cricket resumed yesterday. Among the matches were Pershore CC v Stratford-upon-Avon CC, above, a spectator and his dogs watch Henley v Wargrave, right, and the ball is sanitised as Lyndhurst take on Sway, left.
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United Kingdom