Coming Soon
In the pipeline so to speak I’ve a couple of other books well under way. 
A sequel to ‘Gone to Blazes?’ will follow provided the first one doesn’t just gather dust on the shelf. The material is endless; day-by-day I hear more tales and jot notes as things happen.
I saw some pictures recently from a fatal RTA taken by the Police Scenes of Crimes Officer prior to body removal. In the background can be
clearly seen two firefighters tucking into Ice-creams scrounged from a Mr Softy van stuck in traffic behind the tangled vehicles, remember a hungry fireman’s no use to anyone!
Another book I’m midway through recounts my experiences of twenty-five years playing soggy league Cricket around Cumbria.
‘A Good Toss to Win’ hasn’t been seen by my publishers yet and they may just chuck it in the re-cycler, who knows? It follows that same format of laddish behaviour in another male dominated environment.
It’s not an autobiography, who’d want to read that, it’s just a madcap imaginary season into which all those years are squeezed, you don’t have to be into Cricket to enjoy it!
Read an provisional extract,
“….By the time the 43rd over was completed we were 108 for 4. I noticed Jeff and Jack taking a long time over their mid-wicket conference and wondered what was
afoot. Dick sniffed something as well,
“You know Stubby, I think they’re going to have a flail”
“Never, 41 off two overs, don’t be a pillock Dick”
“Why not, if one of them’s out surely we can stonewall for an over or so with three wickets” Dick didn’t really sound convinced.
The first ball of the 44th over sailed over long on and dented the tarmac of the tennis court. We stood up. The second ball went for four over gulley, one bounce into the
fence protecting the kids play area. We marched out to the boundary rope. The third and fourth balls received mighty swishes but no connection was made. Dick and I were joined by the rest of the mob. The fifth ball again landed on the tennis court. We began to cheer and shout encouragement. The last ball ballooned off a top
edge and just evaded the square leg fielder for another four. Twenty runs off the over, could it really be possible?
By now the Keswick fielders and supporters were getting rattled. We were having a party on the rope, even if the lads didn’t pull off the miracle the Aussie bastards would take some stick.
It seemed to take an age for the last over to begin. The Keswick skipper took forever to set his field. As the bowler began his run up Jeff left his crease and started to tie his
bootlace. The Aussie keeper was incensed,
“Get on with it Pommie!”
“**** you” replied Jeff and then undid and re-tied his other boot for good measure.
What an atmosphere had built up, twenty-one to win from six balls. The bowler commenced his run again, we needed a big shot first ball, Jack backed away to leg and hoisted the ball
over point into the beer garden of the Wheatsheath, six runs. We roared our approval. The second ball was hit straight up the hill into the outfield, Jeff and Jack ran a three. The
drunkards from the pub had rallied to our cause swelling our number to around thirty.
Ball three was sweetly struck through the covers in classic fashion by Jeff who punched the air in delight, four more. Chants of ‘easy, easy, easy’ rang out across the ground, it wouldn’t happen would it? Ball four was an anti-climax, you could
feel the exasperation as the ball thudded into the keepers gloves, no run. It looked unlikely now, eight off two balls.
The game stopped again, more gamesmanship. The field was once again moved round, seven fielders on the legside, no surprises where the next ball was headed. As
the bowler finally approached the wicket Jeff almost ran towards the square leg Umpire and slashed at the ball, it squirted off the edge and went for four through third man. Four to win off the last ball, it had to happen. We didn’t get four off the last
ball, no Jeff smeared it over point into the beer garden for six!
In hindsight we should probably have run onto the field and carried our two heroes straight off to the pub but we didn’t. No, we all spent the next ten minutes rolling
about laughing, it was so incredible to have won. The Keswick team had to pick their way through us all. Dick spotted his old adversary Kipper Richardson who writes a cricket column in the local evening paper,
“Kieth, Kieth, what the **** are you going to write that then?” he broke down laughing again, “do you want the bails to burn”….
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