Strikes, Slings and Soggy pitches

First of all, the good news!

Gary Wilson claimed his maiden first class century today! A big ‘huzzah’ for Mr Chirpy, who really battled hard and put on a worthy display. He eventually went for a fantastic and well crafted 125.

Jason Roy got his maiden first class half century! A very encouraging display, and an indication that although he likes to go for his shots he can knuckle down and graft. I think it would be fair to say that there have been doubts about his stickability from certain quarters, but he’s certainly one to keep an eye on in the future.

As for the not quite so good news, it would be fair to say that Ramps probably had hoped to add more than zero to his overnight score, and I imagine he would be pretty annoyed to get bowled by Hoggard (it was always going to be him) so early on this morning. Still, he may not feel satisfied exactly but his contribution to the final innings tally of 483, with maximum batting points, was sizeable to say the least, so he can take some consolation from that.

I tweeted at lunchtime to say that knowing my luck I would get home in time for the heavens to open and for the game to lose the whole afternoon session to the weather. I can’t claim to challenge Mystic Meg for once, because the elements were always going to close in and wreck the game. It doesn’t look promising for tomorrow either. Leicestershire are currently 32-0, and if things don’t improve then this is the way it’s going to stay for some time!

Not exactly good news, but not bad news either:

Michael Brown tweeted to say he’d gone under the knife for treatment on his elbow injury. I suppose if something’s got to get done, I guess it’s got to get done. But who wants to have their arm sliced open? Poor Browny seemed rather stoical about the whole thing. Personally, I’d have spent the whole day hiding in a cupboard somewhere so the surgeons couldn’t find me. Best wishes to Michael from all the Rampants, and here’s hoping he makes a complete recovery so that he’s fighting fit and ready to do battle next year for Surrey.

And now the really, irritatingly woeful news:

There’s a bleedin’ tube strike on the 7th September. I am cursed with trips to London, I swear it. Liz and I will just have to roll up our trouser legs and flash our ankles at a passing taxi driver in the hope they take pity on us!

Grrrrrrrrrrrr!!!