Almanac Poetry (and Cricket): Wide long on

 

Artwork by Kate Birrell

 

 

In younger days I was in the cordon and every ball a chance,

Watching the seam coming down, the batsman change his stance,

Studying the bat, watching the bounce,

Waiting to spring, waiting to pounce.

The shot, the snick, the dive, the catch,

Changing the course of the game, making my mark on the match.

Those days I thought might never end are now over and long gone.

These days I find – more and more it seems – myself at wide long-on.

Every now and then perhaps a drive or slog will come my way,

And a chance for a catch hit high in the sky maybe once in a playing day.

I know that I should gracefully accept the advancing of the years

And understand how no-one wants to know the players who once were cheered,

Or how our skill and daring could change a game or  season.

No one cares about those ins and outs, nor cares about the reasons,

Nor cares about the catches and feats of summer days long gone.

Now each summer day, I drift further away, to my spot  at wide long on.

Some day someone might pick up a score book and  remember the name or the time.

And lay some flowers on the boundary rope where I finally crossed the line.

 

To read more by John Gordon click HERE.

 

 

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