Scoreboard Confessional: A Dutch Special featuring Tarick Weber

[Neil Pickup]

Did you notice any of the plugs? If not, I'm disappointed. Either way, what matters is that you're here. My own little world in amongst the Dhoni-worship and Lee-bagging. The English summer of cricket lies ahead, a promised land replete with the prospects of runs, wickets, victories, ducks and chocolate cakes. The best part of the next five months of my life will be dominated by bats, balls, stumps, the glorious sound of leather on willow and the less refined impact noise of leather on groin.

The calendar and fixture list hold the itinerary for the month - school coaching, club coaching, club practice. University practice, university fixture, club fixture. Where gaps still remain there's the benign grandfather of Sky Sports, and enough action from Chelmsford, Canterbury and Chester-le-Street for any self-respecting anorak. Oh yeah, and exams.

I'd be lying if I claimed to know the exact path of my summer's diary, but I hope it will include all aspects of my cricketing summer, the lows and the highs, the sublime and the ridiculous, and every single run I make reproduced in the smallest detail. Which shouldn't take long.

Thursday, April 21st
Rejoice, for the sunshine is upon us at long last. It might have been 6 degrees yesterday, and pelting it down at unnatural angles thanks to the bringer of tidings bleak since time immemorial, the North Sea winds, but today it isn't. It's well into double figures, there ain't a cloud in the sky, and for the first time in three weeks' teaching practice we're actually going to do something with physical activity involved (so long as we don't count the easter production).

Despite the glorious sunshine, there are still lake-like puddles across the school field, which means games takes place in the playground - the 50 metre by 30 metre play ground - not great for 28 ten-year-olds. Even less great when you've got all of 25 minutes for an entire lesson, and two minutes to plan it whilst getting changed in the staff toilet. For all of that, nonetheless the activity came off surprisingly successfully. (Anyone else familiar with the UK's Key Stage 2 curriculum? I've been doing so much with it this week that this paragraph is fit to bursting point with literary devices transplanted from its pages - ten points to the first reader who can tell me what a subordinate clause is, and where I've used one).

Four minutes of medium catches with the orthodox/English hand position, four minutes higher catches with the reverse/Australian technique. Then a twenty-second hit on my part (launching a tennis ball forty yards with a plastic bat might not be at all technically demanding, but it feels good) to demonstrate how to bat whilst playing continuous cricket and a fifteen-minute game complete with contrived time-spacing to bring things down to one batsman left, two runs to win. It's amazing how many just tried the welly/hoik/smear/slog/yahoo, missed and got bowled - whilst all of around six played the percentages, tipped it into the gaps and took the singles. There's a bit of talent there, for sure, a shame that I won't get to see any develop. One practice with year six tomorrow night, then it's the National Express to Exeter - and the proper season beginning.

 

[Neil Pickup]

Friday, April 22nd

Day two, and already the "embarrassingly spilled catch" counter has registered its first entry. I think It'll have to be referred to as an ESC from now on, as I'm pretty damn sure we'll be seeing a hell of a lot more of them in between now and the time it takes for the days to once again become shorter than the nights. I'm sure as hell not typing that out every time someone pulls an Ashish.

End of the week, year five and six cricket practice, in the midst of wides, full tosses, hoiks, swipes and the occasional semblance of a proper shot, there comes the yell of "catch it". Usually from me, aimed at a ten-year-old who already knows that there's a big orange ball zeroing in on him. This time, there's no ten-year-old in the space, and the result is myself sticking my arms out without bothering to position myself with the mortifying result of ball on tarmac, compounded with that most stomach-churning of sounds, the peal of children's laughter.

There were, nevertheless (wahey, level five connective), two merciful shots at redemption as I maintained my grasp upon the next two missiles that found their way in my general direction, providing at least partial face-saving. At least I've allowed myself the opportunity of boarding the NX 339 at 7.05am outside Woolworths tomorrow morning without the burden of having my self-confidence shot to pieces. We'll see if it makes it through the week...

 

[Son Of Coco]

This is good stuff Neil...I have a question though....

How do you deal with the recurring statement that pops up at grounds all around the world whenever coaching involves children between the ages of 7 and 17 - i.e: "That's how Ricky Ponting/Andrew Strauss play".

I find this the most frustrating of statements, and see the only two options as being either:

a) Replying with "You're not Ricky Ponting/Andrew Strauss" (which can sound a bit harsh); or

b) mumble something about learning the basics first before improvising, then explain what 'improvising' means - at which point the kids improvise at will.

I try to highlight the dangers of improvising with a poor basic technique by pointing out that this will get you into all sorts of trouble if someone cranks it up above 120kms an hour, an unlikely event in the Under 11's....so apart from padding them up, putting them in the nets, and actually proving this to them through a few short, sharp bouncers delivered by yours truly (which would undoubtedly attract derision and the accompanying law suit) how do I convey the need for a decent technique? Or, as PM Dawn would say, do I just cut them adrift on memory's bliss?

Sorry for turning this into an Agony Aunt, but I thought you might have a few tips.

 

[Neil Pickup]

Was starting to think no one was actually reading - all feedback encouraged...

It's not actually a situation I've come across particularly often, and when it has done I've generally tried to steer a course between A and B. I've probably actually used International players as an example (watch the seam... watch where his feet go... watch the way he's not looking at fine leg when he finishes the shot) more so than had it as an issue.

I'd guess the best way to go about it would be to illustrate another International player who doesn't play like that (Mike Atherton was a godsend!) - and explain why, linking in to maybe foot position/setup. Generally, one of the best ways I've done this is to develop a mantra of playing in lines and playing balanced - it's worked for me.

As for a bit of chin music, don't be afraid of the odd change-up to nip past their helmets - if you aim it well wide of off peg, you get the kid thinking "sh*t, that was quick" without the paperwork issues. Of course, it helps if you can't get yourself above 100kms anyway!

 

[Son Of Coco]

Was starting to think no one was actually reading - all feedback encouraged...

It's not actually a situation I've come across particularly often, and when it has done I've generally tried to steer a course between A and B. I've probably actually used International players as an example (watch the seam... watch where his feet go... watch the way he's not looking at fine leg when he finishes the shot) more so than had it as an issue.

I'd guess the best way to go about it would be to illustrate another International player who doesn't play like that (Mike Atherton was a godsend!) - and explain why, linking in to maybe foot position/setup. Generally, one of the best ways I've done this is to develop a mantra of playing in lines and playing balanced - it's worked for me.

As for a bit of chin music, don't be afraid of the odd change-up to nip past their helmets - if you aim it well wide of off peg, you get the kid thinking "sh*t, that was quick" without the paperwork issues. Of course, it helps if you can't get yourself above 100kms anyway!

Yeah, it's probably not as prolific an occurence as I made it sound, I notice it most in young players around 14 and over. Another coach at our club used to be involved with the Australian Under 19's and the frustration he experienced trying to get through some heads the value of good basics before improvising was obvious just watching. I think the unfortunate coincidence of hearing it 3 times in one day from assorted juniors made it seem like an epidemic! haha

 

[Magrat Garlick]

I'm reading - good fun, doubt I'll come up with any constructive criticism, though

 

[SpeedKing]

Me too. It's good

 

[SJS]

Superb. Very good stuff.

If this is what you do in the summers you are a blessed man. I would willingly exchange places with you Neil

 

[Neil Pickup]

Sunday, April 24th

It's always the way April goes. A tantalising glimpse of blue skies and sunlight for half a week, and then the great reservoir in the sky opens and deposits its contents upon the unwary below - at the precise moment I arrive at my student house in Exeter.

With an evening to burn and nothing to do but unpack and eat KFC, I was instinctively drawn to my second home for the summer - The County Ground, Exeter. Which, being kind, isn't looking in the greatest nick. The bottom of the pavilion steps has an intriguingly saltmarsh-like quality about it. The artificial all-weather wicket in the centre of the square has a curiously spongy texture and the complexion of a slightly battered conference pear.

So no season opener for the Under 13s tomorrow, plus to cap it all the rain strengthened and invaded my Chicken during the 300 yards between the takeaway and my front door. Oh, the Under 14 season starts next Wednesday. I've got a squad of two (one currently with a dislocated collarbone).

I've discovered a website offering postcode-specific weather forecasts.

 

[Chubb]

Are you with Exeter Cricket Club or the Civils or one of the saint sides neil?

 

[Jamee999]

Hope you keep this going Neil

 

[Neil Pickup]

Are you with Exeter Cricket Club or the Civils or one of the saint sides neil?

Exeter CC

 

[Chubb]

Do you play at the ground with the shoddy wooden grandstand? I can remember playing an u12s game there once but it might have been the Civils. I hope you're not training another side to humiliate Upottery!

 

[Neil Pickup]

If by "shoddy wooden grandstand" you mean this thing (see attachment), then yes.

Our Under 11s are home to Upottery on Sunday, June 12 - there aren't any Upottery U12, U13 or U14 sides. I think you may be safe as the U11 side are very young (even for Under 11s), most of the team that ended runners-up last time around are now Under 12.

 

[Pratters]

I love the diary. Will read it through the entire season.

One constructive criticism - explain a bit more apart from the diary entries.

Like how the system of cricket works in the clubs, school, university you go to, at what level you and stuff.

Apart from the general experience which would form a part of the diary, a few more tid bits which arent necessariy diary entries would be encouraged. Another example would be putting in how the scores etc are tabulated putting in photographs of a scorecard of a game.

Make the diary and explanations all the more detail. Your writing skill is such that chance of trailing off are minimal. So the details would make the reading more interesting rather than making them boring.

Write more every day without any risk of doing badly at studies. We are all reading.

Cheers.

 

[Kweek]

agreed with Pratyush.
nice ground there neil, pitty the stands are a bit rotten

 

[Son Of Coco]

Exeter CC

I played against Exeter St James when I was there, as well as Clyst St George (which is close to Exeter if I remember correctly!?)

 

[Chubb]

If by "shoddy wooden grandstand" you mean this thing (see attachment), then yes.

Our Under 11s are home to Upottery on Sunday, June 12 - there aren't any Upottery U12, U13 or U14 sides. I think you may be safe as the U11 side are very young (even for Under 11s), most of the team that ended runners-up last time around are now Under 12.

That's the place I meant. We've had to start again on the colts front since all the U17s are now too old. I don't know what kind of side we'll put out. It's possible that the 1st Captain's son will be the "captain" of the team. He's played a few friendlies when we were short, only seven or eight. that's about all I know about the new side.

 

[Neil Pickup]

That's the place I meant. We've had to start again on the colts front since all the U17s are now too old. I don't know what kind of side we'll put out. It's possible that the 1st Captain's son will be the "captain" of the team. He's played a few friendlies when we were short, only seven or eight. that's about all I know about the new side.

Go and do some coaching and come along when we play you, be part of the diary

 

[Neil Pickup]

Tuesday, April 26th
When it rains, it pours - and not just meterologically, either. At midday today, everything looked wonderful. The sun bathed the Hoopern Valley, bursting out inbetween the occasional cumulus cloud as I walked home from my French mock, having discovered that yesterday I'd more than doubled my grammar Test scores from their pre-easter level. I had an hour's tag rugby coaching at a city middle school to look forward to, and then a couple of hours of nets out at the University ground at Topsham.

Bear with me now, for the next paragraph may both dally and dismay. Just before I left home, I took the opportunity to relieve myself - and managed to virtually redecorate the entire inside of the toilet bowl. Now, I have a reputation for "toilet blockers" that last term resulted in an outlay upon disposable latex gloves and a plunger, so I didn't read too much into that, but a couple of hours later I found myself perched upon the closet at the middle school, near-doubled up in pain as my sphincter muscle suffered its own perverse gymnastics, whilst the next cold front barrelled in from the atlantic and deposited the entire contents of Tor Bay upon the defenceless city.

I'm writing now in fear of the next set of bowel movements, with a plastic bowl on standby should any further orifices enter rejection mode. No nets for me, and tomorrow's University fourth XI trip to Millfield is somewhat out of the question - I can't see a public school with fees of £15,000 taking too kindly to an impromptu defecation at deep fine leg. Talk about being a pain in the backside...