The Beautiful Devon Village of Kentisbeare - 1947!

UK: Yorkshire Puddings Are Made of It – Dead Fish Are Covered in It – On Why the MCC is “Wrong”!

My Dad learned cricket from the rich-boys who played on pristine pitches in the overwise bombed-out city of Leicester. These were Grammar School (posh) boys and my Dad was definitely not allowed to play. He was from an averagely poor working-class background. What he did was cleverly make himself useful to these privileged fools – so that they would slowly let him into a little bit of their affluent world. This is how he learned to play cricket. Many years later, when I was a child, the BBC would screen six-hours of cricket on a Sunday – I think BBC 2 – and my Dad would explain the game to me. This is how I learned to understand the rules of cricket. My Dad went on to found Tiverton Cricket Club as a player-manager – and I used to go with him as a child to roll the pitch a day before each match. On occasion, I would be at the game – mingling with the players – as I was young – I did not grasp “opposing sides” thing too well.