IT'S NOT ME IT'S YOU

CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON
Crofter understands that there is a special bond between a man and his weapon of choice – and to guide us through the emotional complexity we have an expert on hand to share his most recent experience. Like a top of the range Salix the close season sees him needing no more than a light sanding and a quick wax to look at his best – but blimey, he goes on a bit…..

Festivities over, I clambered into the attic to deposit decorations redundant now for another 11 months. The solitary 20w bulb throws dim light but my eyes are drawn to the battered wheelie bag tucked away in the corner with the tell-tale rubber handle peeking out at me.
It’s hard to know what to say and I only manage ‘It’s been a long time’. But at least I am not doing the deed by text – I have manned up and done it face to bat face.

I sit in the dim light, and hold her in my arms for one last time. She was once flawless - so smooth and beautiful. Her face was so perfect and she promised endless summers of relentless joy. As with many relationships that had started with such anticipation, the years pass and the attraction fades.
I look at her now and see the hairline cracks and blemishes and it’s a look that has had its day. There and then I realise it really is over and I resolve to replace her with a younger model.
I am walking away – or more precisely going backwards down the loft ladders and trying to avoid injury. I am descending into the depths of bitterness. It has been HER fault that I am repeatedly caught at mid-on and mid-off. She occasionally forces the pie chucker as far as long on, but nowadays she never gives me the satisfaction of seeing the cherry disappear into the field like she did when we were in our Honeymoon phase.

Now she has simply stopped trying - despite my increased age and experience.
‘It’s not me love, its you’


And so, for the first time since 1991, I am back on the market for a new partner... I am offering Saturday days out around rural and not so rural Cheshire with me and my fine group of acquaintances but also the joy of being squeezed into the rear of various brands of vehicle and have views from foot wells and parcel shelves of the surrounding areas as it streams by the windows as we are habitually late for away matches.
As the Brontes might have written ‘Our arrangement shall be mutually beneficial’ and see me dispatching snarling bowlers' balls with minimum of fuss and maximum of speed, whilst in return, I shall rub her down regularly with a high quality oil.

 So, how do I go about the courting process and choosing a new partner in this modern age? Well in a nutshell – I found love online.

With the Strictly theme and cries of "SEVEN" now emanating from the lounge I know that I have plenty of time to conduct my research. I settle down with this new-fangled Google and the total might of the world wide interweb – and wonder whether I’ll need to update a selfie (whatever that is)
Having read Ranulph Feinnes, I know that when embarking on any great quest, it is imperative that one should thoroughly research that with which one is to be faced, so that one's judgement should be sound and true in the arena of the decision.
Having entered my Google search "Best modern cricket bat" the computer screen lights up with a veritable feast of shapes, brands and colours. This is not going to be a simple decision!
In my day, a man was in one of two camps - i) Gray Nics - outrageous scoops and curves a la Samantha Fox or ii) the more traditional Linda Lusardi as exhibited by Fearnley or Slazenger.
Now the magical electronic screen was flinging images that got my pulses – it could be something exotic – or a really brash & lurid, totally upfront wild looking ones from the Southern Hemisphere and then of course the English Roses – your Salix and Worsop Stebbings…


Its love at first, second, third and fourth sight on each site. I need to apply some self-control.
I move frantically through on line forums, review sites, electronic magazines and then finally reach the Aladdin's Cave that is YouTube. I find myself in a world of enlightenment.
I am told about grain structure and grades of willow, and their utmost importance to the "Ping" I will get from my new blade.


I am told, at great length, of the elaborate facial pressing my wood will endure and subsequently given a lesson in physics and dynamics. Apparently, the flatter the blade, the more of it will hit the ball & thus the ball is guaranteed to fly further over long on and into the fields beyond...
My heart fills with joy...


How I have missed the thrill of leaning nonchalantly on my bat, wearing lopsided grin whilst a less than athletic outfielder catches his sizeable paunch on the top of the fence and plummets face first into the field on his quest to retrieve the said ball.

(He should also have read Fiennes and thus discovered, in advance, that there is a gate behind the sight screen)


I am told that my new blade will benefit from massive 40mm edges, long sweet spot middle driving area and pronounced bow. All of this sounds marvellous.


I am told how my new love should be oiled, lightly sanded, toe dipped and protected and then carefully "knocked in" by either machine or by hand. Some retailers are offering to do all of this for me but the old fashioned gentleman in me thinks that this would be tantamount to cheating on her before we had even taken our relationship passed the first gentle net.


I am also told of the benefits of "oversized clefts" but I was always in the Miss Fox camp anyway so I am staying mainstream and old-school.

Following the bombardment of information I am left with many choices...


Weight? - In my younger days I could handle a heavier partner but now, mainly due to my dodgy back, she will need to be lighter to aid maximum manoeuvrability. Weights are usually given "naked" - prior to grips, toe guards & facial protection. Some players hold the exact weight "dressed" to be very important. I, however, can't see how 1oz here or there will prevent me from waving uselessly and repeatedly at successive deliveries wide of off stump - I plump for Medium.


LH or SH? - However much I would love to go for it and be brash, it has to be a short handle. After all, I am only of a medium height and I would look like I had borrowed my big brother's blade. I am also not brave enough to brag or quick enough to engage in the inevitable double entendres that would ensue in the changing room.


Oval handle or Round? - click either box with my eyes shut.


Natural or Scuff Face Protected ? - Always protected for the first season - easy to wipe down and maintain the new look beauty.



Colour and style of grip? - pink, green, orange, white, black , blue, striped, swirls, flags of some obscure nation or even personalised?!? Diamond grip, max trio grip, spiral grooved grip..blah blah blah... Black and whatever.. Too flash invites ridicule from the wags that always occupy the slips or who wear the silly gloves and baby pads behind the wicket.


Choices made, I proceed to the "Checkout" and without even clapping anything other than a virtual eye on my new love, I enter my credit card details. I have been totally seduced by the idea that all of my cricketing woes, my weekly failures and my inevitable Sunday sulks due to lack of form will be eradicated when I press the "Place Order" icon.
Despite the fact that it costs the equivalent of a 2nd hand 2 door run-arounds it will be the saving of my "career" and will be worth every penny. If the wife asks, I will deduct at least £150 from the price paid, advise her it was in the sale & an absolute necessity, and then drone on & on relentlessly about how wonderful the internet is because they are sending me a free bat cover to go with it.


 And so, in early January, my pre-season is well under way. My new love will be winging her way to be very shortly carefully secured in bubble wrap and by free courier service. I will not mind one jot that I will wait from 0700 - 2200 on Wednesday for my delivery slot and lose a day's holiday from work in the process. This is my summer. This is my route to regaining past glories. This is my way to rocket my average above last year’s which did no more than nudge double figures.
I am very much looking forward to practicing forward defensive shots in front of the mirror in full gear for the whole of February & March. I am also looking forward to the admiring glances and accompanying noises of appreciation from my club colleagues when we cricketers come out of hibernation when the clocks go forward.


I may even go as far as organising a Question & Answer session in the bar on "How to Choose a New Partner" because, due to the wonders of male impulsiveness and modern technology, I now know all about it – or more accurately I know more about it than the rest of them.
Roll on the new season and the birth of a relationship more beautiful than anyone could ever have imagined.
As the song says.
Love, love changes everything.