Heart Stopper

Me, and specifically my heart, have had some weekend this weekend... It's just been all-round tension. It's been nerve-wracking, exciting, horrible and ridiculous but I have thoroughly enjoyed it.

We'll start at Weston Cricket Club, which was the scene of our latest Saturday fixture as we continue to protect our lead at the top of the table. We bowled first and started atrociously as we were hit all around Hertfordshire for 15 overs before we finally got our act together and held them to a total of 209. It was a modest target, and given our form on Saturdays, a target we should have reached with comparitive ease. As with this game though, it doesn't really work that way, as we lost a couple of wickets, (including mine), meaning we sat on 24-2. We never really got going and at 143-9, I was getting ready to pack my bag and go home, contemplating an indifferent performance. Our Number 11 batsman, Coppers, had different ideas though. He ably supported Mr.Woodcock, probably the most reliable batsman in our side, to scratch away at the rest of the runs and develop a partnership of 67 to scrape us home by a single wicket. Towards the back end of the match, I was out umpiring hitting every shot with them. I was desperate for them to get over the line, so much so, I could feel my heart pumping out of the front of my chest, as if it were a trapped flea attempting to get out of a spider's web. These two lads though, aged 16 and 15, seemed to be completely oblivious to the pressure, and with 4 balls to spare, Coppers waltzed down the wicket and lofted a straight drive over mid-on for the winning runs. I jumped in the air, delighted at the effort. It was an amazing victory. Ben finished on 80 and Coppers, 12. It is probably the most important 12 he has ever hit though!

Our game today was cancelled, as the wonderfully British summer continued it's rainy days, but this was a blessing in disguise. My hayfever was absolutely horrific. I was awoken at 10 by a mini nosebleed, and never really got back to sleep due to sneezing, snivelling and eye-watering. It was horrible. I eventually gave up at 1pm, and went to Tesco's with the soon-departing Sister Mitten to do our "weekly food shop" that consisted of mainly unhealthy stuff! (The Parents Mitten have taken off to Cornwall for the week!)

It was also good that our cricket wasn't on for another reason. Euro 2012, and England's quarter-final with Italy. We haven't played Italy in a major tournament recently, but in our town of Bedford, this game was more than a Quarter-Final. Bedford has the largest Italian population per capita in the whole country, and it was practically half of Bedford vs The Other Half. The hype was extraordinary, and even I, with my fairly relaxed attitude to football these days, was horribly nervous. The match itself, bar the first 15 minutes, was a nightmare to watch as we built a wall in front of our goal and blocked wave after wave of Italian attacks. To lose on penalties then was very disappointing, but a very small part of me was glad that the torment was over. I'm not too sure my heart could have taken a similar semi-final against the Germans and beyond.

However. As mentioned before, the rivalry in our town was intense. Too intense. I have spent the last couple of hours hearing stories and providing my own opinion on Twitter about the riots and fights that broke out on the High Street. We are all disappointed with the loss, but to attack the opposing fans for simply supporting their nation is just despicable. Fights started, cars were smashed in and only just now, I am hearing stories of a stabbing. Hooliganism is so wrong. Football means a lot to many people, but violence doesn't solve anything. Weren't these people taught that lesson by their parents?

Tonight, after a heart-stopping weekend, I am proud to be English, but deeply embarrassed and ashamed at being a Bedfordian. Back to work tomorrow!