My first, my last, my everything…

It’s 1.15 am on the morning of my 23rd birthday. I’m lying on the sofa in the living room watching the third day of New Zealand versus England. My girlfriend is lying partially across me, sleeping soundly. I’m watching my favourite sport in it’s best format (test match) but I find myself channel flicking. I’ve become strangely hypnotised by a rundown of ‘the greatest pop disasters’ on a music channel, with that Howard fella from the Halifax ad’s singing a Barry White cover. Our log fire has finally fizzled out and it’s becoming cold in the room, and Howard has made way for the Cheeky girls on holiday. Normally my attention span towards cricket is pretty good but this is an exception- it’s dull.

A benign pitch, a slow run-rate (just scratching over 2 an over), and Bob Willis on the mic combine to nullify any entertainment.

Even some of the players look Read more