Day 11 – a fist full of shillings

Guess what? Yes, that’s right up before 7am to get some brekkie before we get into TTPs pleasure bus for the 2 hour to Dol Dol again.

Ghazi and Phil had to finish off their Tutors program and the other 5 batted on with introducing cricket to the area. They drove to a school where they were supposed to be coaching only to be greeted by a scene reminiscent of many a spaghetti western, complete with tumbleweed. Aliya made a few phone calls and the lads got back on board the Bump Wagon and made their way, via a few ditches and impromptu off roading, to a newly opened private school, Lentille Hills. There was a game of footy taking place on the chaps arrival, so Ben (an ardent Chelsea fan) joined in and immediately wiped out an 11 year old kid with a tackle that Chopper Harris would have been proud of. The teachers finally organised the 40 kids and the session got underway. What was remarkable about this sessions that the 5 teachers involved were slightly over enthusiastic. They were pushing in at the front of the queues and pushing kids out of the way to take catches in the outfield. But atleast they were there. Back at Dol Dol secondary, Ghazi and Phil were trying their best to work out which coaches were there from yesterday, which ones weren’t and which ones had changed their names overnight. It was quite bizarre.

Now, when you tell people the session starts at 10, it is generally good form to turn up just before. So when we had a head count of 8 out of 16 at 10:15 things weren’t looking too good. From 10:30 onwards there was a steady trickle of people turning up which was nice. Then at 12:30, the last 3 coaches turned up. They were just about to get on the wrong end of a proper south London verbal shoeing, when they informed us that they had walked from Ol Jogi, 18km away, as there bus had broken down. To be perfectly honest with you none of the 3 were brilliant coaches, but showing that type of committment far outweighs being able to cover drive like Michael Vaughan. We are pleased to inform that 17 new coaches were ordained into the world of cricket with certificates, handshakes and tee shirts all round. Good stuff.

The group got together again at the aptly named Hotel Popular once more then set off for Il Polei, a small school in the middle of a Maasai area. The headmaster greeted us with his trainers on and said he wanted to take a full part in the session. He seemed a good man and was extremely keen throughout the session. As we turned up there was a handful of kids already playing cricket complete with stumps, a bat, pads and gloves and a hard ball. One lad in particular looked decent. We got going coaching the rest of the group, which numbered 35, into our now well drilled system. It wasnt the best session to be totally honest as the kids did not seem as enthused by it all as most of the other groups, but there was definitely potential there. We got away at 5pm in order to complete the painful, bone shuddering part of the trip back in daylight. TTP was particularly happy about this, infact almost as happy as when we informed him he had been enrolled in the Coach Education group starting the next day.

As a group we took Dinner at the Kongoni Club. Now, I don’t know what it is about Kenyan Chefs but they seem incapable of preparing a meal in anything under an hour and a half. Its bloody ridiculous. An order of one fish, one burger (Ghazi obviously!), 3 steaks and 2 pork chops turned up just short of 2 hours after being ordered. Ludicrous behaviour I am sure you will agree. The food was very good and cooked to perfection but come on lads, sharpen up for pity’s sake.

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