A tribute to Sarah

We lost our wonderful ‘Sarah Bear’ yesterday.

On occasions like this, when the injustice of losing such a special person strikes deep, those who are left behind to mourn find comfort in each other. Everyone who knew Sarah loved her. She was a very calm, gentle soul and totally without malice. She was dignity personified, especially during the illness which eventually took her from us. And above all else she was an extremely caring, thoughtful person who always put other people before her.

Sarah was a big fan of Warwickshire county cricket club, hence her nickname ‘Bear’, and was dedicated to supporting them. But it was through the 2006 series of Strictly Come Dancing that we first got to know her, as we all came together in a wonderful fusion of cricket and dance, cheering on a certain batsman whilst laughing and joking on the forums. It hurts incredibly to think that both Sarah and Dee, so active on the forums and such a big part of our community, are now lost to us.

I count myself much blessed to have met with Sarah three times in the last five years. Some knew her far better than I and most assuredly feel her loss even more keenly. Yet it is a tribute to how highly regarded Sarah was amongst us that even those who were not fortunate enough to have met her in person are reeling from the horrible news.

A month ago I sent Sarah a little Teddy Bear in a pink hoodie, with the slogan ‘Lovely Sarah Bear rocks’.

Our lovely Sarah will always rock.

xxx

Memory Lane

I couldn't help but notice that Mark Church was asking for our memories of the first Surrey game we attended, and that got me casting my mind back to 2007 when the first RAGM (Rampant Annual General Meeting) took place. It was the first time I was able to put faces to a lot of the names that I had come to know during the hinderend of 2006. It was a double challenge for me, in that my agoraphobic tendancies usually stopped me from going anywhere as far as London, but it was something I felt strongly that I had to attempt. And so, with a lot of help from friends, it came to pass that on the last day of the last championship match that year, I attended my first ever game of cricket! It started a rather irritating trend of my travelling down on the train to London on the day that Mr Ramprakash scored a ton! To this day I still haven't seen a Ramps century!

Anyhow, I've dug out my notes from that day and editted them down, just so that I can record them here for posterity.


I arrived at the Oval at about 09.30, mostly because everyone else was meeting up the station and I hadn't a clue what was being arranged. Better to get there early and wait. It was not such a bad idea: I got there in time to see the traditional pre-match football kick-about between the Surrey boys. Yep, there was Ramps and Butch…Newman falling over. Batty running to retrieve the ball from the other side of the ground. Alan Butcher striding imperiously amidst his players. A look up at the sky revealed a few clouds but there was a vague warmth to the day, so it looked as if we might get away without the predicted rain causing too many problems.

I took a picture of the famous gasometer - just to prove that I was there. I still couldn't believe it.

A brief mention then of the situation from a cricket point of view. It was day four of four, and Surrey had spent the last three days tonking Lancashire all over the pitch, which was good if like me you were a Surrey supporter. If you weren't and you wanted Lancs to win the title (which they could possibly have done if they'd manage to pull off a miracle bigger than Craig Revel Horwood declaring Quentin Wilson the world's greatest dancer) then you'd have been casting an eye towards the Sussex match to see what was happening there. Sussex had looked like they were going to win their game, which would have put them above Durham. Then the world's attention would the assuredly turn to the Oval, because if Lancs won the game they would have been victorious outright county champions for the first time in 76 years. If Surrey beat Lancs then Sussex would be the champs.

Whilst I agreed that it would be nice for Lancs to win after such a long gap it seemed to me that Sussex had probably played better and won more games than Lancs overall, so the result should in fairness have gone to the best team that year. Besides, I had come to see Surrey win a game, and with that in mind resolutely decided to applaud every single catch from the home team, and stifle the impulse to laugh childishly every time a Lancs batsman was dismissed. If Lancs were good enough to chase down the massive target set largely by Ramps then they deserved to win, and so be it.

The Rampant hordes descended upon the Oval shortly after, to wreak their own special brand of havoc, armed with munchies and copious amounts of gin! We chose our spot, and with the game already underway seated ourselves spread out over two rows not far from the front of one of the stands. Moments after, Jean decided to wear her gin and tonic rather than drink it, captured for posterity by the camera of yours truly! Fiona promptly started passing around the gin, asking politely if anyone else would care to indulge themselves. Now, I'm as near to tea-total as you can get: the first and last time I had gin was about ten years ago. On that occasion I couldn't walk down the path to the car without staggering (as well for everyone that I don’t drive)! Still, I thought, what the heck and took Fi up on her offer, and proceeded to knock back a huge mouthful of neat gin much to the amusement of all who witnessed it!

So there we were, chattering and laughing, listening to Churchy and applauding the action where appropriate. The grounds weren't exactly packed. I have to admit that I thought there would be more people there for the dénouement at the Oval given how much was at stake. There weren't too many Surrey fans as far as I could tell, but a reasonable smattering of Lancs fans started to filter in as the day went on. They seemed to bring the good weather with them, as they began to shed clothes quicker than a stripogram after a night out on the town. Especially noticeable was the loud guy in the stand who kept standing up shouting "Oh, Lanky Lanky" to the tune of the hokey kokey. It got a bit annoying after the third time or so…and by the fiftieth time there were definite 'herpes vibes' winging their way towards him. I believe I may have threatened to kill him at one point. But as I'm usually such a sweet natured girl I can only attribute this to the gin.

Surrey didn't play badly at all, but Lancs clearly had their tails up and slowly, inexorably, the total began to creep downwards. Wickets would fall but so irregularly that the Lancs fans must have began to get their hopes up. As the day went on the Oval began to get a little fuller: with Lancs fans. The faithful and those who had suddenly found a renewed belief that Mark Ramprakash was not the slayer of dreams began to trickle into the grounds until the numbers in the stands began to swell. And Mr. Annoying was still there with his rallying call of "Oh, Lanky Lanky." Hmm…why didn't I send laryngitis vibes instead of herpes?

At some stage that morning we managed to lose Jean. I say lose but in truth she managed to lose us because we hadn't gone anywhere, and as the minutes ticked away we wondered if she'd somehow managed to get stuck in the ladies. Fearing something sinister had befallen Jean we kept darting looks towards the exit she had left from, only to see a rather hesitant man armed with a carrier bag coming down the steps towards us. I thought his indecisive behaviour a trifle odd but then guessed he was just looking for the best spot to sit.

Which it seemed happened to be right next to us!

Pause. "Excuse me, but are you the Rampants?" He asked us, sounding terribly hopeful.

I think we must have looked collectively shifty. I mean, it's not the sort of thing somebody tends to ask. Immediately I thought Surrey CC had decided to evict us for taking over the airwaves of BBC London with our poems and anagrams. One of us found our voice and squeaked out a cautious “yes”.

"That's a relief," said the man, "I'm Trev. Trevor Jones." He added by way of clarification.

Suddenly the collective shiftiness altered to delight and Trev was welcomed amidst the ranks, seating himself on the edge of the row next to Nic. Now, this man knows just about everything there is to know about cricket, and Surrey in particular. An author, former librarian and commentator for Surrey, Trev's inside knowledge about what had been going on in the team, added to his own witty opinions which were readily given, made interesting hearing. I don't think I've ever been so star-struck by a librarian before!

Trev seems a seriously nice man. He chatted and watched the game with us for some time, and eventually Jean finally reappeared down the steps clearly wondering who the strange man was sitting at the end of the row. Her expression on being told that it was THE Trevor Jones was priceless, and I think she was just about ready to adopt him!

Whilst Jean had been fraternising with someone whilst trying to snag some drink, Trev was kindly signing copies of his books for us. Bless the man: he had a never-ending supply! Trev mentioned that there were several OAP Lancs fans up on the balcony that looked like they had been around the last time their team had managed to win the championship, and probably - should Surrey win the game - might not last to see the dream come alive again. OK - I nearly wavered in my devotion to Surrey at that point, I admit it, but only because I didn't want to see scores of octogenarians throwing themselves off the balcony in some strange Lancastrian lemming-style suicide pact! But no…I hardened my heart to such thoughts and contented myself with sending the herpes vibes again to the noisy barsteward in the Peter May stand.

Trev disappeared shortly before lunch, I think, if I remember correctly - and promised to come back later on to watch some of the game with us. At this point texts were flying about the place between Rampants who were unable to attend the match, saying that we hadn't been spotted yet in Sky's coverage - and where were we sitting? Later on we got one from Ceci saying that she had seen us, and who was that bloke we were with, which made us laugh.

True to his word Trev returned later on in the afternoon with the game looking to swing towards Lancashire's way. Laxman was going so well that you couldn't help but feel as long as he was there the game was slipping out of Surrey's grasp. I began to get a little narked at the idea. Part of me thought Lancs deserved to win for doing so well on the last day, but to be honest when a side so dominates for three days of play, to see Surrey's (and in particular Ramps) efforts come to nothing would have been gutting for me. That was why when Laxman went having scored his 100, caught by a certain Mr. Ramprakash no less, I allowed myself a slightly childish air punch! There was a strangulated squeal of indignation a row back from Fiona (who despite her admiration for Ramps as a cricketer also doubles as a Lancashire supporter), exclaiming loudly "Damn you Ramprakash! That's it: I'm an ex-Rampant!" Thankfully, Mr R couldn't hear the threat of resignation as he was fielding just about as far away from us as he could possibly get!

It was slightly before this point four Lancs fans appeared from nowhere and, with empty seats to choose from all over the Oval, decided to sit right in front of myself and Jean! One of their number proceeded to spend the next forty or so minutes explaining the rules of cricket to his little girls. "You see, that was one run there when the batsmen ran between the wickets…" God, it could have been me half a year ago, feeling as thick as a brick.

Laxman's catch was one of two for Ramps as it turned out. Another of our other Surrey favourites Jon Batty was putting in his usual hard work and taking wickets regularly. The only question was, had they come quickly enough? The dismissal of Laxman however seemed to be the turning point in the game and some of the fire, although not the determination, had disappeared from the northern side. As they began to reach the tail of the team a feeling of slow dread crept over me. Dominic Cork was in and making progress in steady, menacing fashion.

I should at this point make some mention of the delightful 'Number 29' who entertained us for so much of the latter part of the game. This was the ever-grinning Murtaza Hussain, recruited by Surrey as a stand-in for Harbhajan Singh (who was off beating the world in the Indian 20/20 squad). Hussain was fielding in front of us quite a lot towards the end, armed with a grin like Alice's Cheshire cat! I think he - and probably the entire Surrey team - had a very good idea who we were at this point. Each time he went near the grin was switched on like a light bulb! He waved, he posed - he even wiped pretend sweat from his brow in theatrical fashion when he claimed the penultimate wicket! In the meantime Corky was still hanging around like an irritating fungal infection...

Trev disappeared at this point, leaving us to watch the game tick away. The Lancs supporters were counting the required runs down on their fingers. I was quite calm because as soon as the penultimate man had gone I felt confident the remaining batsman would likewise fall before the runs evaporated. I'm not basically a horrible person who takes delight in the misfortunes of others but - just ever so briefly - when the last wicket (Cork) fell with roughly 26 runs left to chase, rather than thinking of the poor old codgers up on the roof I took a little satisfaction in the reaction of Mr Lanky-Lanky in the stand who, as the song goes, wasn't singing anymore!

All that remained at that point was to loiter in the car park in the vain hope of spotting Ramps and his fellows. What we got instead was the rather sad sight of the heartbroken Lancs fans trailing out of the Oval. One or two - clearly the worse for drink and heartily disgruntled to boot - hung around in the car park area with the aim of harassing the umpires: not exactly the best way of rounding off the county season. Back on the field Ramps was being named man of the match, not surprisingly, and giving the obligatory interview with Sky, so it became quite clear that our chances of nabbing a quick conversation with the man himself were slight indeed. Every so often a dejected and miserable looking Lancs player would make his heavy-hearted way past us out towards the coach. Yeah, okay…I was sorry for them at this stage.

The light was beginning to fade as we posed for a group picture, and by the time we were spotted by the lovely Nicole Cutler (supporting Jon Batty presumably) and dance partner Matthew it was almost totally dark. They posed for pictures, chatted…I even managed to swallow my shyness and say a few words to Nicole! We managed to pounce on poor Churchy as he slunk by with his mobile phone, or rather Nicole did. He kindly stopped for a moment to talk as Nicole and Matt said goodbye, asking whom Nicole had been drawn as a partner in Strictly. "John Barnes," replied one of the Rampants.

"She'll not win then." Churchy deadpanned. "His knee will have fallen off after the first week…"

Churchy, like so many people I know, hates having his photo taken. This was a pity as we intended to snap away regardless, so the poor man caught sight of a half-dressed James Benning hiding his white legging-clad thighs behind the shirt he'd just got from his car, and pulled him into the photo! Benning to his credit didn't seem remotely perturbed. Neither did Jade Dernbach earlier when he'd stopped by, but considering JD had been nominated by Jon Batty as the vainest member of the Surrey team this hardly seems surprising! Churchy needlessly apologised for not being able to come down and speak to us, but it would have been an interesting trick if he could have done it considering he was broadcasting at the time!

We let Churchy go, and then shortly afterwards were asked to move on by a female security person, which was fair enough as we had been lurking for some time in the dark. Even afterwards we loitered out on the street for a while to share out the stash of Trev's books amongst us and deciding where everyone was going to head off to. It was hugs all round and many goodbyes: the first of many, as it transpired. The Rampants have met up several times since and hopefully will for years to come.

But for a first ever cricket match; the 2007 September Surrey v Lancs CC game will take a heck of a lot of beating!

A Footnote In History

Whenever I go anywhere, something always happens to my feet.

I once travelled to Disney Land in Florida with my sister, and having suffered the terror of flying in a plane that looked too big to get off the ground let alone stay in the sky I suffered the indignity of spending several days in a wheelchair. The heat was so intense that it melted the soles of my shoes and they stuck to my feet. I then had to wear several pairs of inappropriate shoes, which caused massive blisters so that I couldn’t walk. That’s not an exaggeration on my part for once: I literally couldn’t walk!

Previous trips to London have also resulted in blister problems, and this time I came prepared with plasters, special insoles and the like. Only two small blisters were sustained which quickly went away. Alas, on leaving the Oval on day two, something went wrong with my left foot: something seemed to tear whilst coming down the stairs from the Wedlake Bell stand. I spent the next few days hopping and hobbling on one foot, and probably whining and moaning about it a great deal.

I’d like to apologise to all the Rampants who had to put up with my feeble attempts at getting around London on one leg, especially Lorna who probably got the worst of it. The bottom line is that I’m not fit any more: a year away from the exercise bike has turned me into Jabba the Hutt. So, whilst the cricket season winds slowly to its conclusion, and whilst I turn my blogging focus from cricket to Strictly Come Dancing until the New Year, I hope to put the coming months of non-cricket to good use and try to get my figure back. I didn’t always resemble a burst pillow, you know. I can remember at least one year when I didn’t look like Cosgrove...

Foot update, for those who are interested: swollen, but otherwise okay.

You know that thing that small children do when they want their parents to be proud of them? Give them some extraordinary tale of what they’ve been up to in the hope their gargantuan efforts will be praised? Well, Liz and I decided to walk to the Oval from our Hotel in Tavistock Square in light of the tube strike on the Tuesday. I have to admit that I wanted to do it: a chance to walk through London rather than simply pass through a series of dark tunnels in rush hour seemed just the thing! And we completed it in an hour and a half! I was feeling so proud of my little unfit self as it seemed to be several thousand miles in distance.

Imagine how crestfallen I was to discover it was hardly any distance at all.

Next time I’m taking roller skates...

Twinkle, twinkle little star!

I’m not sure where the star-jump craze came from, but the Rampants have a mission to star-jump at as many county cricket grounds as possible. Some of us have performed at Lords, some at the Rose Bowl. I dare say at some point next year I will have to do my bit at the Grange (hopefully when nobody else is looking). But the ‘biggie’ was the Oval last week, where a small but dedicated bunch of Rampants indulged their star-jumping fetish in the ladies toilets.

It was slightly awkward to explain what we were up to when a lady walked into the loos, laughing and shaking her head at our antics, but as she had a brown Ramprakash shirt on her back I think she was quietly amused! Fortunately the one picture of me with legs akimbo was too blurred to display on t’internet. What a shame, eh?

The undisputed Rampant Queen of star-jumping is our very own Jean, and I have attached a picture showing the wonderful simultaneous arm, leg and tongue action that makes her our champion.

Jeano, you rock!

London bound

Okay. So maybe he is the messiah...

On a serious note, well done to KP for his century yesterday. And also well done to Jason Roy for his contribution. Having KP to bat with appears to have helped him build his innings yesterday. That said, my favourite moment was the first team debut of Ansari, who took a wicket with his first ever ball! He must have been well chuffed! Sad to see James Kirtley for the Sharks hanging up his boots, especially with the likes of Robin Martin-Jenkins retiring earlier in the year. The pair of them will be missed in county cricket.

And Churchy must be psychic. He said the game had the makings of a draw, and a draw with Sussex it was!

I won’t be posting on the Glamorgan game; at least not as it happens. I have taken a notebook with me just in case I want to jot anything down that happens, and write it up when I return home the following Monday. Can’t say I’m looking forward to tomorrow as travelling leaves me a nervous wreck for reasons previously explained, but I have Tricia to see me safe this time and I can’t thank her enough as she has gone out of her way to help.

So, off to London tomorrow. I’m looking forward to seeing our three favourite Marks: Ramprakash, Cosgrove and Church! Because of the tube strike on Tuesday, and the forecast of heavy rain that day, it may be that those of us who are coming to London decide to skip day one and search for a nice cake for Churchy and Johnny Barran instead. I think we may be playing this by ear. This has been a really peculiar year for many of the Rampants and sadly there have been a lot of other concerns in our lives that has to an extent put paid to following the cricket, or even attending. I also think my organisation probably screwed things up a tad. Note to everyone: don’t let me arrange anything! I can barely get out of bed in the morning some days let alone anything more complicated!

Anyway, all packed (I think). The cat is very suspicious and he knows the suitcase means I’m going away. He tends to miss me on the rare occasions I leave the house and will probably shed his hair through stress (probably all over my bed)...

Until the next time, then!

Iron, like a Lion in...Wormsley! (Sorry, Mr. Marley)

Today the Lions finally went head to head with the Unicorns! It sounded suitably mystical. I dare say the players emerged from the back of a magical wardrobe wearing antlers and goat skins...

No Churchy, though, although he did a sterling job keeping us up to date via Twitter. I guess it must have made quite a nice day, relaxing and watching the cricket, without having to deal with all the technicals that are part of the job. Wormsley looks a rather pretty little ground from the pictures I’ve seen, but I think the lack of tech capability was the reason there was no commentary. There were a number of disappointed Rampants, who find that Churchy helps to get us through the mundane things in life, such as ironing! Still, I think that’s a good excuse to put the ironing to one side!

It may come as an interesting sidenote to remark that the Lion is the symbol of England, and the Unicorn the symbol of Scotland. This being the case, it came as no surprise to see the Lions beating up the Unicorns again. Albeit in a slightly more genteel manner!

It turned out to be a fairly facile win in the end for Surrey. The powerhouse combo of RHB and Steven Davies got the game off to a flyer, with the skipper posting a frisky 52 and Davies a magnificent 101. It was also great to hear that Walters achieved a very handy 78. Jason Roy managed 8 today and whilst he clearly has a huge future ahead of him, he’s still learning on the job, so to speak. I think we have to forgive him any low scores at this stage in his career. Spriegel made a cameo of 4 towards the end, with Ramps contributing a small but nonetheless welcome 7 not out. With 273-4 posted it was always going to be a steep mountain for the Unicorns to climb.

I have to admit that the only players I knew from the Unicorns team were former Surrey team mates Murtagh and Saker! I think I may vaguely recollect Knappet from some place, but I couldn’t swear to it. And for all that the Unicorns are a weaker side in general, if it acts as a shop window for some of their players then their being in the competition is a worthy endeavour. It was lovely to see that Saker made 40 not out today, but ultimately it was in a losing cause as the Unicorns made 207-8.

The win keeps Surrey in third place. Somerset are still in control of the group despite being beaten by second placed Sussex on D/L. I have to confess to being a bit of a Somerset fan on the quiet. In the same way that Surrey had, for so long, forgotten how to win Somerset are a team bursting with quality and confidence. Any losses are usually swept to one side, and the behemoth trundles onwards. One day, hopefully, Surrey will regain that winning feeling.

On a slightly different tack, it’s amazing to see how cricket seems to crop up in so many different places. Being a bit of a closet Dr Who fan, I heard this rather amusing dialog from one of the audio dramas, where the Doctor discovers the Earth has inexplicably become perfect, with not a single disaster, man made or otherwise, to blight its newfound serenity:

"Where are the political scandals? Disasters? Binge-drinking celebrities all over the front page? Can't you see, it's all good news! As for the sports pages...Graeme Swann...100 not out?!?"

You know you’ve made it when you get mentioned in Doctor Who!

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.

No play day two

I’ve had enough Ork-dodging at half past three in the afternoon, so I have taken the day off tomorrow. I am venturing up town but mum is tagging along in search of birthday presents, so fingers crossed I’ll be back in time to hear a bit more of the cricket than I normally might expect in the course of a working day. Not keen on crowds but if we head off early enough we’ll probably miss the worst of them.

Instead of the tram service Edinburgh City Council would be better employed creating a go-slow pedestrian area for the elderly, infirm or those who just like crawling at a snails pace along the pavements. It’s one of my chief bugbears, and even although my understanding (and appreciation of how difficult it can get for those no longer in the first flush of youth) has grown over the years, my impatience has not diminished. My arthritic cervical vertebrae tell me to show some sympathy, but I still struggle with the urge to give all dawdlers a kick in the fanlight.

And I used to be such a nice person, once...

As anticipated there was no cricket today in the game against Sussex, which is a real pity because the weather has really let Sussex wriggle off the hook. Typical, really. When weather does disrupt a game you always pray it’s going to happen in your favour. Like being 704 runs behind having followed on, and you are the last batsman in! Not so today, however. This will have eaten into a large chunk of the game and I suppose Surrey will want to bat big in the vain hope they can bowl Sussex out on the last day. Otherwise it’s merely about batting points for Surrey.

It wasn’t a completely wasted day at Guildford, I’m glad to report. Liz went along for the day, took a couple of pics, and felt very happy even despite the lack of play! Rampants are usually a contended bunch. That said, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the weather improves tomorrow so that the hard work Surrey put in on day one wasn’t entirely in vain.

Hey, ho! Whilst Surrey endeavour to carry on from their good start I shall be doing my utmost to persuade my mother that she shouldn’t stint when it comes to my birthday! I rather think Surrey will have the better of the argument!

Message to the bully-boys

 
When we were scratching around for a suitable game to attend this year for our Rampant Annual General Meeting (RAGM), we did toy with the idea of going to Lords rather than the Oval. Certainly, Lords is a most beautiful ground: we headed there a few years ago when the 2008 Notts v Surrey game ended up finishing prematurely – a bit like the way the Surrey v Middlesex game looks like heading today – and went on the tour. The weather was beautiful, the ground was magnificent and the company wonderful. I have happy memories of Lords, and that is why I was quite keen that the RAGM did not happen there this year, because I didn’t want that lovely day spoiled in my mind.

It’s sad but true that there is a small minority of boo-boys in cricket. Let’s not single out Middlesex, because every club will have them, no doubt the worst of their behaviour fuelled by alcohol. I’m choosing my words carefully here, but there are still a rather unforgiving section of Middlesex supporters who seem to delight in abusing Mr Ramprakash whenever they get the opportunity. Not just on the way to the crease, or on the way back, but throughout the game. You’d think the passage of time might have dampened the rawness of their feelings, but not a bit of it. And that leads me to the conclusion that they just enjoy behaving like idiots for the sake of it.

It didn’t take a lot to work out that this was going to happen, hence my reluctance to set foot at Lords during a game. However, my friends who did attend had their enjoyment of what was a damned fine performance by Middlesex completely ruined by the disgusting behaviour of the louts sitting nearby, so much so that they had to move seats.

I know that you cannot stop people thinking what they want, or saying what they want, but surely there’s no place for this behaviour in cricket? And can I suggest that Middlesex actually looks at the behaviour of their fans in the same way that Glamorgan has, because this small minority are doing their club no favours at all. I doubt they will, after all they’ve had ten years to do something about it. I personally will never go anywhere near Lords again.

To those who I am referring, just take heed of this. For every time you shout abuse at Ramps, we will be clapping twice as loud for him.

No backing out

Well, that’s the tickets booked for the trip to London in September. No backing out now!

I have on a few occasions come quite close to calling the whole thing off. I’m a bit of a wuss, you see, and have problems with, well, quite a lot of things to be honest. I’m rubbish at travel unless there’s someone with me who I can trust to make sure I don’t get lost. If that sounds a bit abnormal at my advanced age, let me assure you that it leaves me mortified. However, I can’t help how I feel. I’m not as bad as poor Marcus Trescothick because I can actually get on a train or a plane and go somewhere if I have to, but the amount of grief it causes me rarely makes the effort worthwhile.

I also have no sense of direction. Ask some of the other Rampants: they’ll tell you as much!

Additionally, I can’t do packed spaces. The Tube in rush hour is possibly the closest thing to hell I have experienced in my life so far and last year’s trip to London resulted in a rather embarrassing panic attack that fortunately only a couple of others witnessed.

I get homesick closing the front gate in the morning some times. It’s not too bad going to work, because I know where I’m going and what’s ahead of me. Ask me to step out my comfort zone and I will transform into a hand-wringing bag of nerves. It struck me that for all the years spent on this planet I basically know the area within a five mile radius of where I live. Anything outside this may as well be the North Pole.

Agoraphobia is a real barsteward thing to face, but when I think of some folks who can’t even set foot outside their door it makes me realise actually how lucky I am in comparison. And you can take ‘little steps’ to help yourself. Basically, I’d as soon stay in my house most of the time. It’s safer, I feel calm there, and it’s easier. However, easier is not necessarily what’s best: sometimes you’ve got to challenge yourself to do something that goes against your natural instinct to hide away.

I was especially down at the back end of 2006 without really understanding why, but then the Rampants all hooked up as a result of following Ramps on Strictly Come Dancing that year and they gave me a lot of confidence, even if it did take a while to admit that I had one or two ‘issues’. After all, who wants to admit to being abnormal? And of course an enormous amount of credit actually has to go to both Ramps himself and Karen Hardy, who although totally unaware of it did a heck of a lot to help me. Watching Karen get the best out of Mark each week and watching that confidence grow, dance after dance, made me realise that if you put your mind to it you can achieve just about anything. It felt as if a blow had been struck for introverts everywhere!

It’s being reminded of this that keeps me trying to challenge myself to rise above the fear of getting on a train and travelling to London. I still can’t do it by myself, but one day I am determined I will. So I am saying a big thank you to all the Rampants who have helped me or been very patient: especially Annabel, Liz, Lorna and Tricia. Travelling may be a mundane thing to most folks but I literally couldn’t even think about it without you.

And of course, that would mean no cricket! I am determined to try and see another Ramprakash innings at the very least, weather/injury/fate permitting. Just my way of saying thank you to him for inadvertently inspiring me to try and do something positive rather than spend my entire existence stuck in a rut.

London, 6th of September, here I come!

Quote/unquote

Whatever did we do before the advent of Twitter? Certainly, the Rampants are not shy of the odd concise, pithy comment. Here’s a selection of some of the best of 2008:

“Sitting next to the pavilion, you get to see all their warm-up routines (Pedro's involves going to sleep in comfortable chair - leap up grab bat and helmet, walk onto the pitch - and come back about 2 balls later!!)”
This sounds my kind of warm-up!

"Poor Churchy always sounds so lost without a sidekick. It's like Dangermouse without Penfold...John Noakes without Shep...Terry without June..."
Get the collapsing deckchairs out, folks!

“Look on the bright side - it'll be dark when they finish the game!”
The Rampants think the rather ugly looking ‘gold’ kit is best seen in the dark.

“Could be a whole new type of cricket. Do you get 8 runs if you hit a commentator's tent?”
The Rampants show their concern for poor Churchy as he nearly gets his head removed by an oncoming ball.

“Oh, Lord...pardon the pun.”
A rather bad joke on the occasion of Ali Brown getting out.

“Poor Hedgepig. The BBC site has it that he didn't even face 1 ball. He did well getting out without actually having faced one!”
Jon Batty finds out that when you’re luck’s out, it’s really out!

“I used to think Afzaal was a brand of loo-roll...”
No, that’s Izal! The really shiny stuff made of tracing paper that tormented generations of kids at school for decades.

“Go Newman!.......Oh b*gger! He has gone!”
The curse of not typing quickly enough strikes again.

“Shoaib is supposed to be the Rawalpindi Express...not the Rawalpindi Stopping all Stations...”
Yes, things could have gone a little better for Shoaib, I guess it’s fair to say!

“Have become fond of Shoaib - apparently he bowled an awful ball yesterday and his yell of f**cccccccckkkkkkkkk could be heard all around the ground!”
That earned him extra Brownie-points.

“I'm praying for bad light so I can do my roast beef.”
Unfortunately, posterity didn’t record what happened to either the game or the roast beef. Possibly both were undercooked...

“How does Churchy know how many people are in the crowd? I think his maths must be better than he says!”
He probably counts them between overs.

“Perfection in cable knit!”
Probably the most unlikely description Mr Ramprakash will ever have in his life.

“We thought it was hilarious every time the umpire turned round and motioned a wide when JO was bowling here!”
Oh dear...poor Ormond!

“If you can't get the runs kick your opponent in the b*lls.”
Not very lady-like, but it sort of typified our feeling through 2008.

“Oh dear, Murray's got hit. Shame.”
We have such sympathy for Murray Goodwin after his altercation with Ramps. We didn’t snigger. Honest...

“Churchy's dad apparently asked if Johnny could tell him how many singles Ramps had scored at The Oval whilst wearing blue underpants.”
I don’t believe we ever got an answer to this one.

“Signalling by scratching his knee? This is like bidding at an auction rather than umpiring!”
Much speculation ensued as to whether we could bid for certain players.

“Fine leg Mark Ramprakash??? I beg to correct you, Mr Ramprakash has two fine legs!”
And so say all of us!

“Got it back (the radio commentary) to hear 'inner thigh' and 'stretching'...all is well with my world!!”
The beauty of radio is that you can imagine it all for yourself!

“Not sure Mr Hand should be sniggering about red lights and Churchy’s commentary position...”
We love Kevin Hand!

“I suggest Surrey all contract a stomach bug at Tea!”
Alas, Surrey didn’t try this one and lost the game. Although Ramps went on successfully later in the year to take our advice.

“Seems that one of Nicholson's shots yesterday hit a pigeon......which is now deceased...it is a dead pigeon...”
The Rampants celebrate the baptism of the legendary Kennington Pigeon Murderer (KPM)!

“Pink Bobby...can't make up my mind if that reminds me of a dog with impetigo or a slang term for male genitalia...”
The Rampants have great affection for Kent’s own Robert Key.

“I feel sorry for Hopkinson too. He deserved his ton. Hey ho, I'm over it already!”
We are such generous souls.

“How can the game be fascinatingly poised after just 4 balls?”
In fairness, the whole match could have hinged on those four balls.

In the beginning...

When I was a little girl (for I was, once) my dad, each year, would go into the attic and dig out all his old childhood toys for my sister and I to play with. Out would come the wooden fort made by his own dad, sundry lead cowboys (minus their heads) with horses that wouldn’t stand up, and his clockwork train set with tracks set all over the floor, arranged in a way best suited to tripping up mum as she came out the kitchen. Many a great time was had derailing the trains with my Mr Men pencil tops or shoving Mr Bump off the bridge as the 16.15 to Waverley chuntered past...

Amongst the many games that dad brought down from the attic there was a board game of some description, based on ‘cricket’. I recall, at roughly the age of five, asking dad to explain what cricket was. He launched into a lengthy and detailed description that was quite beyond my tiny brain and left me rather traumatised and completely, utterly, perplexed. Cricket, it seemed, was lots of running about and lots of numbers. Maths not being my strong suit, cricket for me boiled down to a game played by multiple bored looking people stuck in a field wearing white. It was “that game with maths.”

In short, I hated it.

My dislike of cricket was so intense that if it was on the telly (yes folks, it really was on the telly back in the day) it would get turned over to one of the two other channels in existence at the time, no matter what was on. I spent many a year booing the sainted Sir Ian of Botham when he came on a Question of Sport, mostly because having a cricketer as one of the captains meant I had to sit through all those awful clips and questions, the answers to which I had no real idea!

And so it continued for many years until one day there was a ‘Road to Damascus’ type epiphany. I switched on the Surrey radio commentary to hear the enlightening words of Mark Church for BBC London. After two games, I had actually managed to pick up the basic rules – sorry, laws – of cricket. It was like that moment when you’re in the swimming pool and you pick up the courage to fling the float to one side and realise that you can actually swim. Or splash about a bit in the shallows, in my case. Cricket was no longer scary.

The reason for my conversion to the world of cricket was totally due to my taking up with a bunch of like-minded persons in the shape of ‘The Rampants’. For the unenlightened, The Rampants are the highly unofficial, unsanctioned and slightly loopy Mark Ramprakash fan club. (I wasn’t calling Ramps slightly loopy there, btw). I say slightly, because we’re actually disappointingly normal. Most of the time. Just don’t mention the word ‘bananas’ to Jean in case it sets her off.

We come from all over the country: an eclectic group of persons of various ages, all with a love of cricket. I’m sure there are thousands more of us out there. The Rampants are a lovely bunch, and it’s been an absolute privilege to know and indeed on some occasions to meet them. I like to think that, when the man himself finally hangs up the willow, we will still remain friends, still follow cricket and still meet up every now and again. Who’d have thought a show about dancing would have such an effect?

In fairness, there was roughly a fifty/fifty split in terms of those who already actively followed cricket before watching Ramps salsa his way to Strictly Come Dancing glory back in 2006, and those who didn’t. Some were lapsed supporters who had their enthusiasm rekindled. For some, like myself, spin was reserved for Peter Mandelson and ‘wicket’ was an Ewok from ‘Return of the Jedi’. He is, by the way. Just in case you don’t know your Star Wars.

Following Surrey has been a joy these last few years. I say that despite the rather, er, inconsistent performances of late. It’s been a bit like looking after a dog with mange: you love it unconditionally, no matter how unsightly or socially embarrassing it has become. You can’t buy that kind of devotion, really. A new vet in the shape of Chris Adams was brought in last year to give the club a kind of M.O.T. And a lot of bits were trimmed away in the process.

This, then, is my attempt at recording my opinions of Surrey’s progress throughout the year 2010 (with hopefully some input from a few friends along the way). I have actually no idea at the time of writing this if Surrey will actually make any progress this year, but the nucleus of a good team is there. If the effort is put in, the weather is kind, and if the gods of cricket smile benevolently down upon them there is no reason why Chris Adams and his merry band shouldn’t have their share of glory.

Above all else, entirely in-keeping with the spirit of the game, remember the Rampant motto. “If other teams are head and shoulders above you, remember to bite their ankles.”