Miah Culpa!

I couldn’t cobble a post together yesterday as I was feeling a tad off colour, but given the collapse of last night it would have been little more than perplexed and incoherent rambling anyway and probably not worth the reading. Let’s just say that the ‘curse of the Rampants’ struck again. Went down for tea: everything was fine. Came back upstairs having slaked my hunger, read that one of the openers and also night watchman Walters had gone, switched on the commentary at the exact second Ramps was bowled for a second ball duck.

I switched it off again.

Leaving the room when the commentary is on conclusively causes wickets to fall. I think yesterday’s deluge of late wickets was my fault: I’m thinking of changing my name to ‘Miah Culpa.’

Oh, and it got worse, as Surrey finished four wickets down at the end of play.

My dearest father likes teasing me when things go badly for Surrey and it annoys me because now he’s had his hip replacement I don’t dare kick him by way of a response. I can’t see what he’s got to be smug about: he’s a Hearts supporter. He should know all about angst and trying to smile through pain and misery.

Anyhow, back to this morning. It appears the game was over by lunch time and we were conclusively stuffed, so there can’t be a lot of complaining as Worcestershire deserved the win. This current Surrey team appears to have the cricket equivalent of a hectic temperature! One minute the pulse races, the blood sings and the runs are racked up; the next there’s a sudden arrest in progress followed by a total, irrevocable flat-line. There’s still no real consistency in the Surrey ranks. At the moment the team reminds me of a giant tandem bike. They have the people to power it, but somebody’s nicked the pedals...

It’s not put me off going to the Oval, although I will readily confess to one or two nerves as the Glamorgan game draws ever closer. I really like the ground, and I think there’s a possibility I may just be able to sneak in to the members stand this time round courtesy of one of the Rampants. It should be a fun occasion meeting up with my friends, see the action live and (fingers crossed) watching Mr R play in the game. Can we have a whip round for Chris Adams and the skipper to make sure he does? Or the promise of a cake from Marks & Spencer’s? Pretty please? Getting to London is tricky at the best of times. Unless I manage to get a handle on this travel business I may have problems getting down in the future. I can’t rely on other people helping me out all the time and just in case this is my last trip south of the border, I want to make the most of it.

And no, that doesn’t mean I’m planning on streaking!

By way of a footnote, I was sad to read about the heckling Gareth Batty received by some of the Worcestershire 'fans'. I'm sure Ramps will be able to sympathise with Gareth on that score. I don't understand why they do this kind of thing. Is shouting abuse at a good club servant proving devotion to your team? The irony is that by belittling them you're not showing devotion, you're actually bringing your team's good name into disrepute. It isn't showing passion: it's displaying idiocy. Fortunately Gareth Batty has broad enough shoulders to take it, and I imagine future encounters with his former club will inspire him to even greater achievement.

Middlesex know all about that kind of thing.