Like any sport, it either excites, sends the viewer to slumber, or just makes them stare longer into their phone.
I think I’ve always liked the idea of Cricket more than actually dedicating hours to watching it. Give me the highlights is a happy medium.
My interest sparks within the landscape where many of these grounds sit and boy there are so many curiosities to choose from.
I pick one, not too far from the rolling South Downs, and the lumbering Hampshire Hangers - made perhaps more well known by the World War One poet Edward Thomas:
I have come to the borders of sleep
The unfathomable deep
Forest where all must lose
Their way, however straight
Or winding, soon or late,
They cannot choose.
These words from a past poet still chime, as what surrounds this pitch are a host of ghosts, burial mounds to be more precise. From the batting crease at least 5 are visible.
I do not think there is a more evocative place to play any type of sport than this small clearing in the heath.
Petersfield Cricket Club