I’m a very handy cricketer
brags the Minnipa copper
I can’t bat bowl or field but
I do live right behind the town oval
Davo drops the catch at cover &
their batsman crawls
to a shaky 8
suddenly Tarlee oval shrinks
like grandma’s hanky
at dusk he’s dismissed
on 295 &
Davo’s still shouting
a wicket or a run
Kimba grand final
deciding delivery taunts the jumpy bat
keeper & slips
holler & rush
as the ball (eyes shut)
squeezes supernaturally
between middle & leg
& escapes to the fence
we all remain stumped
in the pub & around an autumnal bbq
these tattered yarns
grinning hoary mates
horselaugh & slap our backs
raw appeals startle the thick heat
brown prickled outfield
hats floppy & dusty
cricket’s charm like a sepia photograph
About Mickey Randall
Late afternoon beer, Exile on Main St playing. Sport like cricket, most types of football, golf, squash, horse racing. Travel, with Vancouver my favourite city, but there’s nowhere I’ve not happily been. Except Luton. Reading. Writing about family, sport, music, the stuff that amuses me. Conversation. Wit. Irony. McLaren Vale cabernet sauvignon, Barossa shiraz, Coopers Sparkling Ale. Jazz and especially Miles Davis. Lots and lots of music. I live in Adelaide with my wife Kerry-ann and our boys Alex and Max.
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