That 19-Year Old Kid

You join me, with the windows flung wide open at nearly 10pm, on yet another muggy and close evening. My new favourite song is playing at a rather rude volume and I've just thought of something... I rang someone on their home phone about half an hour ago. Half an hour ago, it was 9.30pm. Is that sort of social etiquette punishable by a custodial sentence?

I've just finished watching the 2nd day of the long awaited first test of the Ashes series, and wasn't it incredible? A single month ago, 19-year old Ashton Agar was bowling in Division 1 of the Oxford Home Counties League. Yes, he couldn't even make it in to the Premier Division. Yet today, he hit 98 of the most fluent and confident runs ever seen from a number 11 batsman. With Australia in disarray, and myself just about to enter a one-hour long meeting with my area manager in a pleasant enough mood, I imagined myself returning to see England with a healthy lead. What actually happened was a rather bad meeting followed by the realisation that England's best bowlers were being hit all around Nottinghamshire by a kid who wouldn't stop smiling. Even when he got out for 98, two agonising runs short of a truly unbelievable debut century, he had a smile plastered across his youthful face and merely shrugged his shoulders.

Ashton Agar, 19, overtakes Tino Best with the world record for the
most amount of runs scored by a Number 11
batsman in test cricket.

"Oh well. I got 98 more runs than Michael Clarke". He even mouthed the words, "Sorry Mum" towards the place in the stands where she was sitting. I can't imagine many parents would be angry at such a performance. Whilst watching the highlights this evening, my mum merely questioned whether the game was over when they finally trudged off at the end of the Australian innings.

"No Mum, there's over 3 more days to go yet".

"Really? That's a long game isn't it...? Don't they get bored of hitting that ball?"

Not one to really understand the nuances of international sport my Mother... She'd much rather sit in the garden with a cup of tea and read a good book. My Dad meanwhile, doesn't really get cricket either. Much more a football man, his unreal optimism really does come to the fore, especially when it comes to cricket. I reckon he's seen me bat twice, (if my memory serves me correctly, I hit 48 and 80 when he has), and because of that, he reckons I'm the next Alastair Cook.

Watching a county match on Sky the other week prompted him to ask me, "Wouldn't you want to play first-class cricket mate?" He asked the question as if I had already been asked, but refused because I was too good for county cricket. The simple answer is, "Yes, very much so", but there are defining problems. The first, and probably most prominent, is the fact I'm not good enough. Sure, hitting boundaries against an opening bowler in the Bedfordshire County League is one thing, but something tells me an opening bowler in the LV County Championship would give me a good going over. I remember facing a ball that zoomed out of the bowling machine at 85mph once. I didn't see it before I felt it crunch the middle of my foot. To be able to hit that would be a good achievement. To get consistent runs against that sort of bowling would be a minor miracle.

And once again, upon learning that Ashton Agar had hit 98 this afternoon, my Dad texted me, "You could do that". I'm not sure I could manufacture that situation in my dreams, let alone in reality. When the scoreboard ticked over to 117-9 this afternoon, I'm fairly sure everyone in the ground were expecting the Three Lions to come out to bat fairly soon after, fully in control. Obviously, this wasn't the case, but even watching the evening highlights, it struck me how much Agar enjoyed his innings. He looked as if he didn't have a care in the world. Not a hint of pressure on his shoulders, despite the occasion and the match situation. It reminded me about the spirit of cricket and even though the innings wound up England players something chronic, it was an unbelievable spectacle and reminded us all about the greatness that this sport of Test Match cricket can throw up. Even though its the Ashes, you can completely enjoy yourself.

It reminded me to enjoy my own game. I am in very good form at the moment, a welcome change from the woes of my early season, and today simply reminded me that I should enjoy that form while I have it. Cricket is an unbelievable sport when it comes to the concept of form. When you are confident, you find yourself playing shots you wouldn't dream of playing usually, and they'd come off. You score runs in places you'd never usually score runs. The ball finds the middle of the bat with easy regularity and runs come a plenty. When you're not on form, you can hardly hit the ball. Same person. Same bat. Sometimes, near enough the same pitch. But entirely different results.

And that's what today was. Confidence. Confidence with a dash of the free-natured thoughts of the youth and boy, did it pay off. Something tells me this Ashes series is going to be a great one...