Graciousness is widely rumoured to be on its way out of competitive cricket, from amateur leagues to professional, international sand-papering. It has never been much in vogue, though, in what we laughingly call ‘friendly’ cricket and yet it can suddenly materialise. These sudden grace notes in a game make cricket worthwhile in its own right and as a lesson for wider life. They often come out of uncharacteristic errors.

For example, despite the visibility provided by our pink ball experiment, our fielder of the year for 2018 managed to drop three catches in Wednesday’s 20 over match, one of them off the bowling of his son who, fresh from exams, was making his season’s debut. Perhaps this was preying on his mind when he opened the batting as he was soon out for 2. Next, he graciously went out to umpire the second half of our innings at a point where we needed a boost from our 6-hitting number 6. The umpire gave him out Jugular Before Wicket. Here came another example of graciousness as the batsman departed without dissent and shows no sign of going on about it for the next twenty years. To round off the day, all depended now on our two young fast bowlers, batting at 7 and 8. The latter, the umpire’s son, hit a huge six but was soon given out LBW by his father. Again, the batsman departed without a hint of disagreement with the decision.

Meanwhile, the number 7 was batting well and his father was preparing to run the barbecue. When I came in during the eighteenth over at number 11, number 7 graciously and prudently farmed the bowling and thus was left facing the last ball. He could have blocked it as we had lost anyway, unless he hit it for 47, but he thought he should go for a 6 and was bowled. Far from playing for his average, he did the right thing, especially as if I had been faced with that dilemma, it would have stopped me from being on course for a unique double. Has anyone else ever gone through an entire season without taking a wicket and without being out? Until this T20, I had, admittedly, only faced one ball all season and was heading towards an even stronger treble of no wickets, no dismissals and no runs, but to get to the safety of the bowler’s end it was necessary to take a single.

So why can the post-GCSE number 8 and the post-A-Level number 7 take dropped catches, LBWs, and impossible positions in their stride while those of us who are older, less talented players are prone to sulk and make excuses? Partly, I suppose, it is because the younger players have come to see, despite being brilliant at the sport, that cricket doesn’t really matter that much. Number 7, for example, is off to Madagascar soon (the place, not the film).

Of course, in forty-five years’ time, they might come to appreciate that cricket jolly well does matter, but meanwhile there is much to learn from our younger team-mates and indeed from their fathers. The star who was having a bad day with his catching, batting and (allegedly) umpiring, is also our web-master and editor-in-chief yet he had the good grace to publish my match report, in which he features quite prominently, without amendment:

http://www.middletonstoneycc.co.uk/club-news/2019/mscc-vs-blenheim-park-2019/

I said he should feel free to edit it but his reply, of course, was the epitome of good grace: ‘No, it’s up to you, skip’.