The EPOU on No Sleep

I really hate that how people have hijacked the phrase, "YOLO".  On paper, it is a good description of life as a young adult. If you still live at home, with a full-time job, you can really go for it. Live life to its fullest extent, without the repercussions of falling behind on rent or the washing. It was a great description, until school kids stole it and overused it until it became infuriating. People running around shouting, "Yolo!" in a high-pitched voice, it just got so annoying. But if you stop and think about what it actually means, the acronym has a meaning behind it. It's actually brilliant.

In exactly a month's time, I will be on a flight to Australia, and even now, I'm inexplicably nervous. I shed a tear earlier at the very idea of leaving behind my family and friends for a whole six months, but I just know I have to do it. A free trip to Australia to play cricket, (bar the visa - which I have to pay for) is quite literally my dream come true. I cannot explain in words how I've dreamt about batting under Australian sunshine. Christmas on the beach followed by a Boxing Day Ashes Test match is just absolutely surreal, that I simply cannot get my head around doing it. Christmas in my eyes is all about snuggling up in bed on Christmas Eve, in freezing temperatures until Christmas morning, where you end up putting a dressing gown and slippers on before shivering your way downstairs. I can't imagine a scenario where I end up sweating for the night before putting a pair of board shorts on, opening a few presents and heading my way to the beach for the day. How much of a mind fuck is that going to be?

Oh, Australia. I haven't even entirely accepted that I'm going yet. It all seems too good to be true...

I'm on such a high at the moment though. So much so, that I've got home from my customary Saturday night out at 5am and I've decided I'm just going to stay awake until 8.30. I'm due to play in a bit of a fun 6-a-side cricket day and due to be picked up in a few hours time. I'm on such a high that I'm not entirely fussed if I end up falling asleep out in the middle. It's one of those events where no one really cares if you play good or not - It's just going to be a laugh. Whether or not I'll be in a fit state to have a laugh, I don't know, but its worth a shot, right? I don't want to go to sleep. It reminds me of my BP days. Get in from work at 6am on a bit of a high for cricket later, that I just don't go to sleep. If I remember correctly, on one occasion, I didn't sleep and took two outrageous slip catches and scored 64, so sometimes it works.

 

Anyway, I'm getting side-tracked. I am scared about Australia. Scared and excited. Most of my awake moments are spent thinking about the ups and downs of the trip at the moment. It's taken over my life. I've been telling people that there might be a possibility of me staying in Australia permanently, but in all honesty, I simply cannot imagine not seeing my friends ever again. I love them so much, that its almost an impossibility.

...

That is the point in proceedings where I fell asleep at the keyboard. By the time I came round, roughly 20 minutes later, my laptop had run out of charge and I was feeling the effects of the hangover kicking in. The time was roughly 7am, so I didn't bother going back to sleep, choosing to go downstairs instead and indulge in coffee aswell as walking round the shop to get some Red Bull. I was going to need it.

Right now, its bank holiday Monday afternoon and the last of my days off. It's been a good and eventful week, but the next few weeks at work are going to be tough as I train up the person who is replacing me for 6 months. I've just started completing my visa, thinking it was going to be a long, drawn out process, but 10 minutes later, I found I had finished it. I'm pretty sure there is more to complete... It can't be THAT easy...

Yesterday was actually really good fun. When we turned up to the Annual Southill Sixes Day, it was cold and foggy with a bit of drizzle in the air, and due to my very obvious lack of sleep, I did wonder whether it was going to be a very long and dull affair. Especially as we sat in the clubhouse waiting for the fog to ascend, I thought about locking myself in a changing room to catch some shut eye, but as soon as the call for a coffee and a cooked breakfast came, I jumped up faster than a gazelle on speed and was the first inside to feast upon bacon, eggs and the rest. That seemed to wake me up, and the weather followed suit as the first game got under way. The 6s format is pretty simple. 6-a-side, 5 overs each and each player has one over, (apart from the wicket-keeper). As it was a fun end-of-season event, most of the players donned fancy dress, and halfway through the first game of the day, our team swanned off to the changing rooms to get changed. Our team name was 'EPOU' and no one could work out what it stood for. After all of us had donned our outfits though, it became obvious for those that love the game who we were.

Left to Right:  Billy Bowden (Watty), Simon Taufel (Me), Steve Bucknor (Saggers)
Aleem Dar (Kenny) and Rudi Koertzen (Oli)
The Elite Panel of Umpires CC!
 

As we walked out into the middle for our first game, people were amazed at the efforts. Watty had created proper umpires attire, (with Fly Emirates logo) and despite it being quite difficult to bowl in, plus very hot when batting especially, (the sun had finally come out!), it was a pretty fantastic effort by him.

We won 2 games and lost 2 games, but didn't make the final. Watty had to shoot off at the end of the round-robin games regardless so it was probably best that we didn't, and I was relieved by that stage as I was really, really struggling through lack of sleep. How I used to go whole weekends without any sleep at all I don't know, but by that stage, I had been awake (pretty much) for 29 hours on the bounce.

This coming weekend is the final weekend of the English season, a detail I now have to point out as I will be flying off to the beginning of another one not long after. We have an important game on Saturday, as we look to avoid relegation straight after being promoted, followed by a dead-rubber on Sunday where we can enjoy the end of the season. I think we're drawing the batting order out of a hat!

Yet, all of my thoughts belong 10,500 miles away...

The Idiot Gets a Daddy Ton

It's been a bit of a weird week this one. It's the same recipe of cricket and alcohol, but in a strange order that left me feeling on the brink of collapsing.

I've been a bit of an idiot this week aswell. Jumping past the news that I may well be in trouble again for misuse of Twitter, (haven't we been there before?), I have spent the week absolutely blowing my earnings on ... Well... Nonsense. It's a case of not learning lessons, both with Twitter and with alcohol, as I spent what can only be described as a gargantuan amount of dosh on Thursday night. Yes. Thursday. It was A-Level results night, and as soon as someone mentioned it last Saturday - Conveniently, whilst we were celebrating our Twenty20 Finals Day victory - there was always a 0% chance of me not attending. The idea of me being bored at home whilst people I know are living the party life really is an idea that fills my heart with sadness. Call me a party animal, an alcoholic, whatever... I couldn't care less.

After this week, my liver has handed in its notice. It wants to change jobs.

I thought I'd had a really awesome night without spending a lot on Thursday, a brief thought that was completely scuppered when it came to the tiresome long day at work on Friday when I found a receipt for £56.70 in my wallet. Nope. That's not a typo. I had genuinely spent £56.70 on SIX WHOLE FISHBOWLS. Who even does that? Even when their drunk? Who? I was on my lunch break when I found out this fact, and nearly choked on my chicken mayo and bacon baguette as I saw it. I had to ask someone what I had bought, (which proves how much I had to drink that night), but when I found out... I simply laughed. I think that goes down as the biggest waste of money I've ever spent. Thursday night really was a brilliant night though, and congratulations to all who got their results. I'm sure you loved your relatively free night as I paid for all your drinks...

Friday is hardly worth mentioning. I was a write-off from the first coffee of the day to the twenty-first, and when the time finally came for me to make the weary walk home, I lasted a whole hour before I simply crashed on my bed. Not even I could have managed another night out on Friday evening as I enjoyed 14 hours of blissful sleep up to my final Saturday morning shift before my week off work.

Saturday eventually came round, and after a pretty uneventful morning at work, I was on my way to the first of two weekend games. We were playing Langford (again), and proceeded to completely screw it up. Whether we were thinking the rain was going to come so there was no point in playing I don't know, but it never did, and when we were 76-7 we decided we really should try and do something about it. I was long gone, nicking behind off their admittedly good opening bowler who accounted for our top 3 batsmen, all of which are in pretty good form. Being bowled out for 103 then wasn't ideal.

During the tea break, Monty, (keen to make up for his lack of runs!) tried persuading me to open him with the bowling aswell. Being a spinner, his argument was that the Langford openers wouldn't be expecting it. After much deliberation, I relented and agreed. I then decided to go the whole hog and properly attack. I walked out to the middle with borrowed pads under my trousers and underneath a helmet. I had never fielded at short-leg before, (a position suicidally close to the batsman to catch any balls that come off bat and then pad). But 2nd ball, the batsman did exactly that, prodding at one that turned, hitting his glove and then pad and then ballooning up into the air for me to pouch the easiest of catches. As soon as the umpire put his finger up, we went mental. Our plan had worked. And what's more, Monty got another wicket soon after to leave them 9-2. We were buzzing as we tried to prize out batsman number 3, but it never happened. Not until it was too late anyway.

One more thing happened in this match that wasn't exactly ideal. After Langford had recovered somewhat, to leave themselves on 60-odd for 2, I bought myself on to bowl. Not a rarity these days, but for some reason, I just couldn't do it properly. I just bowled short long hops that kept getting despatched. Apart from one. Which the batsman missed. Bearing in mind he missed it, the ball carried on travelling and planted into the middle of his eye socket. Despite a shaken batsman, and a cut eye, he seemed okay to carry on, and did, but it left me apologising profusely. He looked like Robert Sheehan aswell. I had basically injured one of the best-looking guys I had faced all season. Any plans to ask him out for a drink had been scuppered due to my dodgy bowling!

And then Saturday night came round... Before I go any further, I promise I had nothing planned. I had enquired as to someone wanting a night out, but wasn't expecting them to say yes. I spent my evening walking to the shop to buy a couple of birthday cards and then delivering them, only to be persuaded into attending their birthday function at the local pub. "Ok", I thought. "Its only a few at the pub, this won't develop into anything further".

I really should know by now how that never, ever happens.

How wrong I was. The friend I texted had replied saying, "Of course I'll go out, stupid question!" and when she did, I had been bought drinks left, right and centre at this function leaving me a little worse for wear as I travelled to Abigail's for her pre-drinks in the summerhouse. I love that summerhouse. Just chilling in there with a few drinks and a bit of music, reminiscing over past events and talking over the present day, there really are few things better in life. When we left for town, we enjoyed a really, really good night, camping it up in the Barley Mow, before deciding we were going to carry on at someone else's house when the time came for closing.

This is the point where my 2nd stage of idiocy happened. I won't go into details, but I went against what I think is right and I am very disappointed in my behaviour then. It wasn't anything illegal (before you say anything!), I was just being a general moron. It's against my character I suppose. We all make mistakes though, and its important to appreciate that. From that stage of idiocy, I stumbled in the front door at 6.30am. The sun was up. I eventually got to sleep at 7.30am. Whoa.

Just three hours later, I was awake for the 2nd instalment of the weekend's cricket. With nothing to play for on Sundays, it was almost not worth turning up. I just couldn't be bothered. Sleep was a much more appealing option, but not turning up is never an option at the best of times, even more so yesterday - because we were due to turn up with just 9 players. I had a feeling it was going to be a thrashing...

And it was.

We batted first, and padding up going out to bat was quite difficult in itself. I could feel my head spinning and I felt a bit sick. I didn't tell any of the other guys this in fear of being ripped apart, but as I was heading out to bat, I got the impression I might be walking back in again pretty quickly...

Their opening bowler was pretty handy, but otherwise, they didn't have much firepower whatsoever. A fact made more palpable by the fact that, after 40 overs, I found myself unbeaten at the crease having scored 153 runs. Again, that is not a typo. At the beginning of my innings, I may well have still been drunk, but I genuinely scored 153 more runs than I had expected. That's a new record. Finding the boundary 24 times is also a new record. 153* is the 5th best performance in the whole league structure this season, and the 1st best in our division. It propels me to the top of the club standings for runs scored and for the first 10 overs of that innings - I was still drunk.

We won convincingly. Having scored 292-2 as a team, we bowled them out for 126, and a winning margin of 166 runs. I had scored more runs than their whole team whilst drunk and then heavily hungover and then I went home, cramped in the back of the car with a lot of kit, with a rather bemused smile on my face.

What a strange day... What a strange week...

A Letter to Straight Pride UK

I have just sent an e-mail, (not a letter!) to Straight Pride UK, which is a project that claims to "campaign for heterosexual rights". I shall not comment further on their aims, but instead show you what I sent them. I will not be publicising their answers, as I saw a troubling case against someone else who did the same thing. These are merely the questions I asked.

If you wish to know what they reply, feel free to ask and I shall tell you in private.

...

Dear Sir/Madam,

There has been a lot of coverage lately on social media of your Straight Pride project, and I have a couple of questions and concerns that I wish to raise with you. Please note, before you continue reading, that I intend the answers to this email to be strictly private between myself and the person who replies. I will not publicise, write or publish your answers in any way shape or form and I hope this feeling will be mutual.

I am a gay man, and I do believe that I was born gay and discovered it rather than it being a lifestyle choice. I can't really get my head around how someone would choose to be a minority with risks of rejection and bullying instead of being straight. I do however feel strongly in freedom of speech, and respect your opinions on the matter of homosexuality, even if strongly disagree with them. Before I raise my concerns and ask my questions, I would like to point out that I do actually agree with one of your points. I have read a couple of articles recently on the notion of "gay-only" hotels, which in my opinion is wrong. If hotel/B&B owners are at risk of being sued by turning away homosexual couples, then others shouldn't be allowed to turn away heterosexual couples. Yes, I am in agreement with you on this point alone. Equality should indeed be a two way street.

However, now we come to my concerns and questions, and I'm afraid there are a few.

1) I have seen a few of your tweets, (At the moment, I am confused as to where your official Twitter feed is), but on Monday at least, I saw a long list of tweets on your account about people's stories of "coming out as straight". To me, this sounds like mocking the very difficult personal process of "coming out" as we know it by its original context. I do hope you appreciate that admitting ones sexual orientation is a difficult process. Regardless of whether you think it is a choice or not, the fact remains that almost all LGBT people risk rejection by their family, peers, friends, colleagues and indeed society for doing so, as there are people we share this planet with who are traditionalists. Rejection is not a nice feeling, and I do hope you realise this.

If we look further afield, we see that LGBT people in Russia are being physically tortured for it. Can you tell me if you condone such acts? Causing physical harm is wrong, regardless of the situation. Surely you can see that? In your opinion, if Russia is so adamant that they do not want LGBT people in their country, what should they do?

2) On your website, it states that homosexuals have "the right to dress ridiculously and parade with danger and contempt". I have two questions in regards to this. The first is: Do you think there is a connection between dress sense and homosexuality? I could show you countless examples of heterosexual people "dressing ridiculously" at a parade if I wanted to. I can't really see the logic behind that statement. Secondly, as we are talking of parades, do you think other parades not associated with the LGBT community should be banned aswell? What about the Notting Hill Carnival? Coming up on the August bank holiday, the Notting Hill carnival will see many, many people dressing inappropriately, banging drums, drinking a bit and generally having fun. Is this wrong aswell?

3) Again on your website, you claim that you need to "raise awareness of the heterosexual part of society and assure that their presence is known and their views are heard." Why do you think this is necessary? Even though things have improved in the last few years, the LGBT community have spent their entire existence battling against prejudice and bullying. This has never been the case for heterosexual people, (apart from a very, very rare couple of examples in regards to "gay only" places - as mentioned earlier). For every one case of heterosexual prejudice, (or heterophobia), there have been literally thousands of homophobic incidents. This is a fact. And this is not equality.

I do hope you find it in your hearts to reply sincerely, and without mockery or contempt. I do get the impression that this project of yours is poking fun at the LGBT community, but if it is indeed a genuine attempt to raise heterosexual rights, then I fear you are fighting a battle that has already been won.

Once again, I reiterate that I will not be publishing your answers on any sort of media platform.

Regards,

Tom Carr

Twenty20 Finals Day

Last year, I went to the SWALEC stadium in Cardiff to witness the English professional version of cricket's Twenty20 Finals Day. The sun was out and it was a marvellous day, but I couldn't really get my head around the pressure of the day itself. Its easy sat in the crowd, just witnessing it, but some of the shots that were played were remarkably crazy. Sat on the 2nd row of blue seats near the boundary, you had to question what these pros were playing at...

This Saturday however, I got a feeling of why that can happen. Sure, we're not pros, but at the beginning of July, we managed to get through to the Bedfordshire Invitational League Twenty20 Finals Day. It was an event that was firmly out of my mind until a couple of weeks ago, but since then, all the focus has been on it. All the chatter and conversation had been based around what Saturday may bring, and finally, after what felt like months of waiting and the slowest Saturday morning at work imaginable... It was here. Finals Day had arrived.

On the smallest of car journies to our home ground, the host for the day, I felt nerves I had never experienced on a journey to a cricket match. We wanted to win this so badly. The night before, I had quite literally dreamt about taking a leaping one-handed catch to win the final by 3 runs. It had dominated my thoughts for the week, and here I was, travelling to find out the fate of our team. We hadn't won a top-flight tournament since way back in 2006, a whole 7 years, and I would do absolutely anything to change that. And Saturday was our chance...

Due to work, I turned up at just gone 1pm, towards the end of the first semi-final between Pavenham and Houghton. Houghton was the scene of the carnage a few weeks ago when the game was abandoned due to stump-wielding chavs, so they're not too popular in my books. Pavenham however, after plundering 221 in their innings, (a huge, huge score for those of you not clued up on this wonderful sport), were home and dry and became the first team to qualify for the final. We were up next. Bedford vs Langford in the 2nd of two semi-finals... The nerves were flying...

We had lost to Langford the week before, by a measly 8 runs, in a game we had played horribly bad in. I got a first baller, but both teams had better sides out for Finals Day. We lost the toss, (No, I'm not the T20 captain, so I didn't lose it!) and we were put into field. I was quite pleased about that. I could get into the day relatively comfortably without having to feel the added pressure of opening the batting. I had secured the opening batting spot after scoring an unbeaten 82 in the warm-up game a couple of weeks beforehand, so I suppose I brought that pressure on myself! As the game started, you could feel the energy in our side. An energy absent from any "normal" game. It was absolutely obvious that every single person on that pitch wanted to win, and it was an amazing thing to be a part of, whatever the result. We did very well indeed in that fielding effort, with every person committing 100% to every ball, as we restricted Langford to just 120 in their 20 overs. It was a below-par score on a good pitch and we were extremely confident in overhauling it.

But padding up, the butterflies notched up to another level. I had been telling myself all morning to keep the nerves under control, as it would not be helpful when the time came for me to bat. Batting requires a modicum of concentration and focus, and you have to keep emotions under check. Go out to the middle too high on adrenaline, and you might play a wild shot and get out. Go out to the middle too nervous, and you might not be committed enough to a shot and get out. You have to get it right. So, what did I do?

"Whatever happens here today, that first JD and coke tonight will be a good one. It always bloody is!"

The words of an alcoholic I'm sure, but they did the job and I calmed down. Despite a couple of early wickets, we were always going along at a pretty nice rate. I had reached 18 off about a run a ball though when I rocked back to pull a short ball and just didn't get hold of it and planted a catch straight to the fielder. It was 45-2 when I got out, so at the time, I was apoplectic. Smacking my left pad with my bat as I trudged off, I was very disappointed. I even had to tell myself to not do anything stupid as I walked into the changing room. I'm not usually one for angry reactions, but with the scoreboard now at 45-3, it was a time of the game where anything could have happened. Luckily, next in was star man Ben Woodcock, who was as determined as anyone to succeed. He is a very classy player and he and skipper Boon did very well in getting us to the target and we ended up winning pretty comfortably by 6 wickets. Result. We were into the final.

Before the day, my minimum expectation was to get to the final. Without trying to sound arrogant, although it might well be, a team like ours should be beating Langford every time we step out on to the pitch to face them. It was a solid performance to get to the final, and I was pleased we had reached it. We now had a very, very tough ask against a confident Pavenham side. We had a small half an hour window to chill out, have a burger and a J20, (The JD was very much on ice... Just in case...) before the big one. The final.

Boony actually won the toss, (probably the first toss won for Bedford in a good couple of months!) and all of a sudden, I was out batting again. It's a strange feeling getting out and then padding up to go back out to bat again, but that is what I was doing! It wasn't a good start either... Determined to not play a stupid shot like I did in the semi-final, I was forced to defend a series of balls from their brilliant opening bowler who bowled like a metronome. He put it on the perfect spot EVERY SINGLE TIME, and I just could not do anything with it except knock it back to him. Another couple of quick wickets had fallen again, and all of a sudden we were 14-2 after 5 overs. A quarter of the innings down, and we needed something pretty drastic to claw ourselves back into a respectable position. Myself and Abid were in the middle, and after the 5th over, I realised we needed to do something.

"Look, this is shit, I'm just gonna go for it. If I get out, at least Ben can work some magic."

I was facing the metronome for the 3rd over of his spell, and my mind switched from "mildly attacking but not stupid" to full on Twenty20 mode. I had seen enough of his bowling now to know where he was going to put it, so looking around the field, worked out a quick strategy and attacked it with everything. Sure enough, the first ball of his over was on the exact same spot that the previous 12 had landed, but I had walked across my stumps to expose the leg-side. After some quick hands across the line of the ball, (again - for those of you clued up on the game - a risky ploy), felt the ball connect with the middle of the bat and fly between two fielders for 4 runs. Good. The next ball was slightly wider, and with the full force of everything I had, absolutely farmed it across to the leg side again for 4 more. It was an horrendous shot, and I hadn't got all of it, but it was another welcome boundary. We were still under pressure however, so needed some more exuberance, but I nearly got it so wrong on the next ball. The bowler, aware to what I was doing, bowled it wider down the off-side this time, and I managed to get bat on ball into the widely vacant off-side area. Calling Abid through, I shouted "Two!" and succeeded pretty successfully, but an absolute mad moment ensued when I saw the fielder briefly stumble on the ball. I called Abid back for a third run. I put my head down and sprinted to the non-strikers end, but three-quarters of the way down the wicket, I looked up to find Abid looking at me, completely still. He hadn't moved.

Shit.

I had to stop from a full-on sprint, turn round, and sprint back to the strikers end, and with the ball whistling in from behind me, felt as if I was on the verge of a pretty embarrassing run out in the biggest game of the season. I tried not to concentrate on that though, and had my mind fixed firmly on the white line of the crease and dived full length to reach my ground. My God, it hurt. The ground at this time of the year is not very forgiving, but thanks to a slightly wayward throw, I JUST made it home. Phew.

From then on, I had a ridiculous headache. Whether it was the impact of the dive I just don't know, but soon after, I got cleaned up by an admittedly very good yorker and before I knew it, I was on the sidelines once more, watching my team mates as they tried to claw a respectable score from an unfavourable position. Once again, Ben was absolutely class, as he dismissed the first two balls he faced for two boundaries, and well supported by brutal hitting by Abid and then by the captain, we managed to clamber our way up to 143. It wasn't a bad score by any means, and a couple of the lads seemed to think the new pitch, created especially for the final, was harder to bat on than the one played on in the semi-finals. We were quietly confident.

That was until the end of the 1st over of their reply, which was nonchalantly despatched to all parts of the ground for 16. While we were 14-2 after 5 overs, they were 16-0 after 1. Stood at short third-man as they comfortably saw out the next few overs whilst compiling a good amount of runs, I did wonder whether all that pressure of the day was going to amount to nothing. These guys looked as if they were going to knock off the runs with apparent ease and then jaunt on home again...

That was until, a moment of madness from them opened the door for us. Their opening batsman had decided he wanted to end the game early, so slashed at a ball that wasn't there to be slashed. The ball flew high into the sunny sky. Stood under it was Mr. Flynn. I'm sure he'd tell you himself that he isn't the best fielder in our side, but as soon as he easily clung on to a good catch, we were up and running. Pavenham still looked extremely comfortable, but at least we were on the board. A few balls later, the new batsman did the same, but he had got a bit more of it... It flew towards the confident Ben on the boundary and he took a very, very good pressure catch. All of a sudden, two new batsmen were at the crease, and we had two wickets... I wonder...

From then on, the energy in our team grew and grew... We had gone from complete dejection in the ranks to a promising glow of hope within the team circle as another new batsman walked to the crease...

This new batsman was a good player. He was the guy that bowled me, and I remember from the games we played against them earlier in the season that he had the ability to end the game there and then. How he managed to do this first ball, I will never know, but he leathered into a good length ball. However, he hadn't managed to get hold of all of it. The ball flew once more towards the grasp of Ben, who managed to take the catch. We all ran towards him screaming, before realising he had trodden on an escaped section of the boundary rope. It wasn't out. And what's more, it was 6 runs. The batsman then hit the next delivery for 4. I was stood at short third-man, head in hands, wondering if that was all our excitement done for the final.

It wasn't. In the next over, the batsmen skewed the ball to skipper Boony at point to make it 3 down and then not long after, the ball flew once more towards the boundary where a good catch from Arjun meant that Pavenham were 4 wickets down. Because of the regular wickets falling, their run rate had dropped pretty dramatically, and they were 55-4 after 8 overs. We were back in it. A passage of play then followed, where Pavenham kept level with the pace as we tried to squeeze and put pressure on them. I moved from the long-on boundary to my post at short third-man, not really being involved all that much, but feeling immense pressure all the same. I could feel the buzz of the game surrounding the air as if we were enclosed in an imaginary bubble. I was concentrating so hard, I was unaware of the music playing from the boundary, or the hoards of people who had come in to watch and my Dad, walking around the edge of the pitch, keeping a keen eye on proceedings. This was as tense a sporting event that I had ever been involved in...

It had got to about 14 overs gone, with the match still level-pegging, when Shaun came on to bowl. Shaun "Coppers" Copperwheat is 16 years old, and the youngest player in our side. I've been very impressed with him this season, but this was a pressure situation. How would he handle it? He answered that question emphatically with his first ball, as the batsman played a straight drive back over his head, only to see Coppers claw it out the air one-handed and throw it straight back up in celebration. We sprinted towards him in jubilation, safe in the knowledge that Pavenham were 5 down and didn't have much batting to come. Suddenly, it felt as if we could see the trophy appear on the horizon. This was ours for the taking... It had to be...

Coppers finished a brilliant wicket maiden over to hand the initiative back to us. Pavenham needed about 40 runs off the last 4 overs. It was possible, but we were in the ascendency. Rob Flynn, who had taken that catch to start it all off, came on to bowl, and after a couple of wides, knocked the bails off to give us our 6th wicket before doing the same in his next over and with Pavenham getting nowhere near the required amount of runs to give them a chance of victory, it was ours. Barring anything stupid, we had done it. Pavenham needed 23 runs off the final over of the whole day, and despite a couple of streaky boundaries, the final ball was bowled by Arjun, and it was confirmation. We had won it. By 13 whole runs, we had won Finals Day! I sprinted in from the boundary edge, letting out all the built-up emotion in a huddle in the middle with the rest of the team. It felt so, so good...

Skipper Nick Boon with the T20 trophy! For a guy with 80-year old knees,
he was immense in the field and with the bat plus kept
a cool captaincy head.

Getting back into the changing room, we all let out huge cheers of delight. After the trophy presentation, where many a photo was taken of our winning team, we went back into the changing room amidst smiles, cheers, hugs and pure ecstasy. This was amazing. I threw my wallet at Robbie, and told him to get a few JD's in, (I told you it was on ice!), and for the next 3 hours, we all sat in the clubhouse and enjoyed the moment.

Those three hours were my most enjoyable time as a cricketer.

Just the memories of the day, everything from Ben's funny reactions when he makes a mistake, to Robbie triggering a batsman despite being bowled and Manvir's desperately bad day with the bat. We made a joke out of it all as we sat around and had a few drinks and reminisced. Me and Robbie led the way as we worked our way through a bottle and a half of JD between us and by the time we left, I was pretty merry and Robbie was almost on the floor... That night was pretty special as we cheered and sang our way through a celebration and a half.

After 7 years, Bedford CC have won a top-flight tournament, and I couldn't have been happier on that Saturday evening. Hopefully its the springboard to bigger and better things. That's what I wanted when I took the plunge to take over the senior setup at that club, and Saturday was the first of what I hope will be many more successes for the future.

Full speed ahead.

And Away We Go...

YouTube is a wonderful place isn't it. I've always thought about doing a video blog instead of writing as a way of expressing myself. It just seems more personal, doesn't it? One person talking to another instead of words written down, left for the onlooker to decipher the tone themselves. The one problem I'd have though is that I'd find it extremely off-putting talking to a camera. Then again, I find myself talking to the screen as I type regardless...

I'm drifting. I saw a video earlier from Troye Sivan, who is a charming young Australian, (born is South Africa - I think), who also happens to be a movie star. I've caught a few of his videos before as they are good fun to watch, and the end music is really damn catchy, but today's video really took me by surprise. I'm not sure it should have caught me by surprise, but his 'Coming Out' video was one of the best stories I've ever listened to. Again, I reach out to the minority in perusing over how difficult this journey is, but it took me back to the time I told my own story back in November 2012. How nerve-wracking and mind-blowing it is to finally let loose those feelings... It's an emotion difficult to describe, but an emotion put so perfectly by Troye that it brought a tear to my eye. It just made me realise how short life is to live it as yourself, and to take every opportunity that comes your way. Every surge of ambition and inspiration needs to be acted upon. It was a rush of adrenaline and a brainstorm that helped me to type out my coming out story in November and then post it to every social media site going. Maybe it was the same for Troye. Maybe not. For we are all different.

It was also a rush of adrenaline to go for this Australian journey. 6 whole months plus a 24 hour flight from London to Melbourne seems like an eternity for someone who is not well travelled. To be going on my own adds a whole new meaning to 'jumping in at the deep end', but I have finally decided that I am going. In October, (roughly), I will be on a plane to Australia all by myself, ready to meet brand new people, in a brand new climate, in a brand new country. I have learnt lessons from previous escapades, and appreciate that it will be momentously difficult to begin with. By jove, (sorry for the overload of Britishness), the first couple of weeks might well be Hell on Earth and I'll be stuck on the other side of the planet, a very lonely person indeed. However, I simply cannot look back and wonder what could have been. If I don't go, I just know it'll be something I will regret for the rest of my eternity, and I cannot be having that. What I hope is going to happen is an adventure that will shape me and my life and finally propel me to new heights. I've been waiting for the right opportunity for years...

The only time I've been on one of these was a 45-minute
flight to Jersey... And back... Obviously...

I am scared. Oohhh yes, I am very nervous. Even thinking about it now sends my stomach into an ill-sounding frenzy of butterflies, but that is simply a side effect of what has to be done. Sure, I'm excited aswell. Going to play cricket in Australia is, quite literally, my dream come true, but this mixture of fragmented nervousness and extreme excitement is quite a concoction to deal with on a daily basis - two whole months before I leave. I simply cannot imagine the state of affairs once the calendar ticks over to the 10th month...

But, right now, I suppose I shouldn't be concentrating on it so much. I have a job to do, (of which I have been granted 6 months off for) and an important weekend of cricket in the UK to concentrate on as we tackle the madness of Twenty20 Finals Day on Saturday. I am really looking forward to what Saturday may bring. If we win, the carnage that follows will be indescribable...

Then again, every single action of my life takes me back to one moment. I can remember what life was like before the moment I "came out", and how life-defining that (drunken) conversation with my Mum at 5am that Sunday morning was...

"What if I can never do it?"

"What if everything falls apart?"

"What if .... What if... What if..."

And then I remember the tears streaming down my face as I stepped in through the front door to Mum's hugs at the end of that fateful weekend in Manchester. The huge smile plastered across my face on that Monday morning when I had received that barrage of support from one simple Facebook post. All the personal messages I received from people who hadn't spoken to me for years. And it changed me.

I hope Australia takes that a step further. I hope Australia changes me again. For the better.

...

Troye Sivan's Coming Out Video - A Must Watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoL-MnXvK80