12 games of cricket. 8/9 aside. Taking place simultaneously. On what can be best described as “rough ground”. If this was in the UK then the Health & Safety Officer would think that all his Christmasses had come at once. There are the rocks that protrude, intermittently, from the ground; there is the mix of the big, strong 14 year old pupils with the 6 & 7 year olds; there are 12 balls being propelled every which-way across all the other games (I got hit!); there are the longhorn cattle; there are the chickens; there are about a hundred children plying barefoot on dust and grass; there is the FUN. We often say back home that it is “H & S gone mad”. Here, I am very pleased to report, H & S has not even recognised that lunacy might exist.
Out of approaching 400 children during the course of the day not a single one got hurt. Everyone of them had a great time. Everyone of them batted, bowled, fielded – all several times – and everyone of them – we would say, judging by their response and the smiles on their faces – went home happy.
On a personal note, though, I have learnt not to say: “Double six if you hit the bus”….
We had great support from the teacher coaches and – the object of the exercise – calling “yes”, “no” or “wait” in running ( no – not “yes, no, sorry!”) seemed to have hit home.
Great organisation, once again from Steve though I have to say we saw another side of him on the way back to the hotel. There was a magnificent wedding ceremony taking place with marquees, hundreds of snazzily turned-out guests and a beautiful bride. Steve’s comment? “Let’s crash it!” I make no further comment.
The trip is taking it’s toll: Reece’s gammy knee is getting worse; I have a sprained ankle; and habitual hypochondriac Steve Wells is milking the fact that a tennis ball brushed his chin. And Phil’s jokes are definitely getting worse. (Nobody believed that was possible).
Talking of tennis balls, which we use in the cricket games, it is strange but true that although a shot in a game may cross over five or six other games (which are arranged in a fairly tightly packed area) the same ball always finds its way bak to its own game. And that is how, philosophically, order comes from apparent chaos.
Philosophy on a CWB blog? OK. I might be feeling the heat, a bit.