The Bank Holiday Malarky

It's coming to the end of my time off work, and I have to say, I've rather enjoyed myself. With the introduction of Sky TV in the Mitten household, even the boring times have been supplemented by a bit of test match cricket on the box, and then the rest has been filled with the classic combination of sun, alcohol and our own cricket.

After I'd finished my 4 hours of work for the week on Wednesday morning, I headed down to the club for my weekly bit of volunteering behind the bar and in the kitchen for Bedfordshire University's final game of their shortened season. They won comfortably, but I had a laugh with Boony as the game ended and we sat about in the clubhouse long after all the students had left and had a good old chat. At this point, my own batting game was on the ropes and we talked about what I needed to do to get my mojo back. We agreed that most of it was in the brain department, and left it at that before training. Training was generally pretty bad for me. We re-created a match situation, with opening batsmen facing opening bowlers, and once you were out, you were out. I was out pretty quickly. So spent the next two hours thinking about what the hell I was doing wrong whilst drifting around the outfield.

Then Friday night came. I apologise for the chronological orderings of this entry, but to fit it all in, I need to keep it concise! So yes... Friday night... It had been in the pipeline for a while, but me and Miss. Black were to hit up the Barley Mow again, and hit it up we did! Actually, I thought this section might be one of the largest to describe, but its just occurred to me I cannot remember a single thing that happened... All I remember was making A LOT of noise coming in at 4am and literally waking the house up. Walking into radiators, slamming doors whilst not knowing my own strength and dropping the fruit bowl just a selection of the noise-inducing shenanigans that I got up to...

Waking up a few hours later then was... Interesting. Not only was I faced with a long day of cricket in the sun with the worst possible hangover, (I don't usually get them), but as I walked downstairs, I was introduced to my sisters new boyfriend...

"Got a hangover have we?"

Ah... That's awkward. I don't really do awkward these days, its just not worth the hassle, but that moment sure was. I simply said, "Err... Yeah", shook his hand, and walked off. He must think I'm a professional alcoholic, (cease sniggering at the back please!), and I didn't see him again before they both trekked back over the River Severn to Cardiff.

The cricket that day was rather strange. As I said earlier, my batting has been atrocious lately, and as we had concluded on Wednesday, it was mostly my confidence letting me down. However today, despite being put into bat on a dodgy looking wicket, I was faced with the prospect of seeing 3 balls approach me from the other end thanks to the copious levels of Jack Daniels consumed the night before. Given my form of late, I didn't expect to last very long, so I just settled into it. Albeit a fair few overs later, I was on 35 before I got out, and given my barren spell of late, 35 runs that I will gladly accept. It was the confidence booster I needed. We set 185 for Pavenham to chase, which they did (just), as we battled away into the evening. We got 7 wickets, but couldn't find the other 3 as Pavenham crept over the line. There were certainly positives to take away from the game however.

No. Before you ask, I was not crazy enough to go out into Bedford town again. I was still struggling from a hangover at 9.30pm, which is when I think I collapsed into a sleep-hazed dream about a cricket ball being pummelled into my brain multiple times by Brett Lee. That was fun. I also missed all the goals from the Champions League final, the first time I have done so since 2003.

13 and a half hours later, and without a hangover, I was on my way again. We had another away game, in the league that is our priority, and I was desperate for a win. The game was in a place called Eggington, (Where?!), and it was another 50 minute journey to get there. Again, we bowled first, (YES, I WON THE TOSS! I know! Amazing!), and we had another fantastic fielding performance, restricting them to 121, and then we were chasing again... Chasing a low target, with a batting line-up bereft of confidence...

I started well. It took me a while to get off the mark - a fact that the vocal fielding side kept on reminding me - but once I did, I felt very confident indeed. It was very strange. The opposition were sledging left, right and centre about my patient style, until I told them I couldn't give a damn. This is the exchange:

Gully: Test match special here boys, still on 0 after 3 overs. Must be feeling the pressure!

Me: I don't feel pressure mate, not when we're chasing a s**t total.

Gully: I saw how you batted last week fella, you're bricking it, I can tell.

Me: The week before, I got 6 off 20 overs, (that's true by the way ... I know). Call me "Test Match Special" as much as you like, I know I am. I'm here for the long haul my friend.

*The next ball comes down, and I middle it through the covers for 4*

Me: (Sarcastically and JUST loudly enough...) Bricking it. Yep. I'm certainly bricking it.

*Gully remains silent*

It's not really part of the game I like particularly much - sledging. I've never been mentally very good, and obviously that means the fielding side have the ability to get to me a bit more... Although I have been better recently. I certainly won that little battle yesterday. Especially when I put away another boundary in the same over. I went on to make 22, with 5 boundaries, before I got out to an admittedly very good catch.

At that stage we were 37-2, and usually, there would be no trouble in reaching our target of 122. But a long way down the line, we were suddenly 76-5 and the opposition had their tails up. Our number 3, Mark Hodgson, was still there and looking relatively comfortable, but with not a lot of batting to come, I was out umpiring, and this time - I was bricking it.

I would have been furious if we'd have thrown away a winning position yet again. Thankfully we didn't, as Mark despatched the first ball of the tense final over for a massive 6, all but confirming our victory and he knocked off the remaining two runs off the next ball. Finally, we had won. Not convincingly, but we had won. By 3 wickets. I was a happy chappy.

I had not intended to go out on Sunday night. Certain people were not best pleased with my loud performance on Friday night, but I felt the victory had to be celebrated. I wasn't feeling getting very drunk to be honest, just a quiet few round a friend's house and then maybe a couple in town before calling it a night. I think I should know by now that this never happens...

It was going to plan, despite waiting forever in Yates' to get a drink. Don't judge me for going to Yates', it was the only place that seemed to not be that busy. The barmen made it look so however, as we stood at the bar for a full 18 minutes, (yes - I counted), before being served. It was at this point, as I bought in three drinks so I didn't have to wait for ages again, that I thought... Go on then! Let's do this properly!

Which is when the night got interesting. There was only two of us, me and my friend, and he was extremely drunk already. So I told him I was off to The Barley Mow, (which is pretty standard these days!), expecting him to not want to go. Oh, how wrong I was! It's always good fun when your straight friends accompany you to a gay bar, and on the walk up there, we had a bet on how long it would take for him to be hit on. He said, "10 minutes". I said, "After 3am". Closing time.

It was a very good night! It was a bit less busy than I had anticipated, but we met a few people there who I know, and we danced and chatted and drank a few more. I was drunk, but not on the same level as Friday and it all went swimmingly, until I ended up getting a cab to Clapham to practically watch Family Guy and American Dad for two hours. That was a bit silly... Otherwise, it was a brilliant end to a rather eventful bank holiday weekend.

Back at work tomorrow, and its probably time to be getting back into the swing of things.

The summer continues...