I’ve never played cricket.
A knock about at the park, on the boundary, and school PE lessons notwithstanding.
So I have absolutely no firsthand experience of what it feels like to be in the middle, about to face your first ball.
But I’m going to assume it’s similar to how I’m feeling writing this post.
A little bit unsure, slightly out of control, but focused on producing something great.
Despite making a living as a writer since 2009 (journalist and copywriter) I’ve never written much about my love of cricket. (Or much personally stuff at all, really.) But the sport has been a constant in my life as far back as I remember, and I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s affected my character, my relationships, and my general outlook on life.
Many members of my family have played cricket, or do still. But I hold my Dad responsible as the main driving force behind my love of the sport and many of the childhood memories I have about it.
My Dad, Tony Crompton
The proper thing would be to make this whole first post about my Dad, Tony Crompton. A slow, left-hand spin bowler, who spent decades playing for Leicester Teachers Cricket Club, would duck away from the primary school he was headteacher of to go and prepare the wicket for the weekend (handily, the school and club ground were very close to each other) and would take his daughter (and later son) to almost every Saturday and Sunday fixture of the whole season.
He passed away in 2013. And with my dad being at the heart of my love for cricket and responsible for making many of the memories and thoughts I’ll be sharing possible, there’s no doubt this project is an attempt to capture those stories before I completely forget them.
But, as a new batter needs time to get their eye in before taking their first shot, I feel I need that too so I can do that part of my cricketing story justice.
This post is more like that first just get the bat-on-the-ball-to-settle-the-nerves shot. It’s the Steve Smith first quick single. Just something to get off the mark. Starting this whole project off with a post about my Dad would be too much for a first session. Rather, I’m hoping to paint the picture over several posts. I’m taking a test match approach to it.
It won’t be all mushy stuff
I’ve never been an overly soppy person. The thought of running a blog that only talks about my Dad and childhood memories makes my toes curl.
My love of cricket is ongoing. And while I don’t spend every weekend on a cricket oval anymore, I still follow the sport, think about the sport, talk passionately about the sport, and try to pass my love of it onto my son. (He’s almost two.) So I’ll also share more recent memories and freely chat about the cricket experiences I encounter now, as an English cricket fan living in Australia.
Get chirpy
While you’re here, if there’s anything you read that strikes a chord then let me know. I’d love to read about your experiences. Leave them as a comment or email me (Rose) at cricketerswife@gmail.com.
Until the next post, go well.
Cricketer's Wife 