When this topic came up for submission on Readwave I decided to get away from the usual 'first love' type stuff and look at something that instigated an emotional response from the relatively mundane. This is a true story although I haven't completed it because of the 800 word limit.
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My First Catch
No I‘m not talking about fishing or angling and neither am I
referring to my first girlfriend but rather to a sporting feat that will live
in my memory for ever.
I was eleven years of age and selected to play the noble
game of cricket for my village’s third team. This sporting unit was made up of
a variety of aging but keen men who had seen fitter days, as well as up and
coming youngsters, the latter category into which I fitted. I remember the game
was an away match and our opponents were Washington Chemical Works.
The fact that I’d been asked to play was a proud moment for
my father as well as me and he was asked to be one of the umpires, an official
on the field helping control the play. At this point it is worth mentioning
that the game was limited in the length of time played, by the number of overs
available to each side. I am not going into the rules of the game apart from
saying that a batsman can be out if he hits the ball in the air and it is
caught by a fielder.
I was in the shadow of my father who had played and in fact
captained the first team, but I was only a boy. My father had a car and so
gained the privilege of transporting a couple of other team members! The game
was due to begin at seven and we were there in good time. The ground was in the
shadow of the chemical works offices; it wasn’t a massive playing area and
because it was managed in an ad hoc sort of way, the quality and levelness of
the pitch was not of the highest standard. This meant that batting was risky
and this was before the days of helmets and protective body pads. However it
was the same for both teams. As it wasn’t unusual for youngsters to play in
this type of match there was an unwritten rule that bowlers, who could hurl the
leather covered ball at your stumps at sixty and seventy miles an hour,
wouldn’t bowl dangerously.
The toss of a coin was made to see who would bat first and
the home team won and decided to bat. We took the field and for the most part,
as a new starter I was positioned on the edge of the green sward to give me the
opportunity to become accustomed to the speed and hardness of the ball. The
game proceeded at a steady pace and the opposition began to accumulate runs.
When fielding you can’t always stay hidden on the boundary edge and so there
came a point when I was asked to field within twenty yards of the batsmen.
It was inevitable that the ball would be lofted into the air
and head in my direction. Even over fifty years further on I can see that red
missile arrowing towards me in a rapidly decaying parabolic arc. I steadied myself, raised my hands to just
above chest height and spread my fingers. I’d obviously practised catching this
unyielding missile on previous occasions but this was different. If I held on
to it, the opposition batsman would be out, if I dropped the ball he would play
on and possibly score a great many runs. My team was depending on me!
I never felt the ball hit my hands, I think at the last moment
I’d closed my eyes, but when I opened them there it was. The beautiful, shiny
red cherry was nestling safely in my hands. It didn’t hurt, I didn’t drop the
ball and my team were clapping. I’d done it! I caught an opposition player out.
The score book would record my name for ever as the catcher.
I looked towards my father and he was beaming with great
pride but I remember feeling confused, happy and received the backslapping
congratulations of my team mates, but confused. I didn’t know whether to laugh
or cry in reality. In point of fact I could feel the tears welling up but I
threw the ball back to the bowler and resumed my fielding position shaking
myself back into an attitude of concentration.
Thinking back to that event it seems strange how we humans
react in such enjoyable but stressful situations and I’d never had any such
experience previously. My reaction was undoubtedly down to a heightened
emotional state, but I wasn’t unusual, you just have to see the reaction of any
sports person as they achieve success. Tears are not unusual!
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