A Day At The Cricket, or When Opportunity Knocks...

A confession: I am a sociophobe. Or at least I think I am anyway. I've never actually been diagnosed with anything, unless you count the school/workplace diagnosis of 'a bit of a wierdo'. I am the sort of person who is generally happiest at home with a good book or a film or even a documentary on BBC Four about religious architecture. When I venture out it's usually for a solo jog or a lone wander to a local landmark or place of interest. For the most part I enjoy it, though I do wonder about the toll it takes on my mental health, especially in my current job which also involves spending a lot of my time on me tod.

"I love you Keith"

I've talked to myself for as long as I can remember so I have no worries on that front, but I'm a little  concerned about a more recent development which has seen me discussing potential grocery purchases with the items themselves. For instance, the other week I had a long conversation in the crisp aisle of Asda involving the McCoys ("you're too expensive this week, I'll wait 'til you're on special again"), Skips ("you don't last five minutes"), and Walker's Ridges ("your ridges are too big!"). Admittedly, none of the snacks talked back at me but it can't be long in coming.

Respect My Authority!

For this reason I decided a while ago that I was going to become more outgoing, I was going to say "Yes" to every opportunity where previously I had hesitated. In practice I haven't said "yes" so much as "What? Me?? Now???" but it has partly worked. As a result I now volunteer at a local group for people with learning difficulties and also do 'one-offs' such as being an 'ambassador-supporter' at last years Olympic football matches held at St James' Park in Newcastle. I still can't always actively enjoy the experience but I do come away with fond memories, which helps me to summon up the courage for the next opportunity.

The reason I mention all this is because last Friday an opportunity came my way that I wasn't expecting. A friend on Twitter (who I'd never actually met in real life) mentioned that she had a spare ticket for the Ashes on Saturday and did I fancy it? For the uninitiated, the Ashes is a series of five cricket test matches played between England and Australia and the match in question was being held, for the first time in history, at nearby Durham.

My view of the cricket, with Lumley castle on the right

As is my wont, my first reaction was to think of all the reasons why I couldn't possibly go: I have to get up for work on Monday (the day would have been finished by 18.30 on Saturday), I have plans on Saturday (the plan in question being to go for a sandwich and a coffee, possibly a jog later, same as I do pretty much every Saturday), I couldn't afford it (money is the least of my worries right now) and so on and so on. What swung it the other way was the knowledge that if I didn't go I'd regret it, now and forever, so I took the plunge and said yes.

Naturally I spent the rest of Friday and the early hours of Saturday worried sick. Anything that involves travelling, large crowds and people I don't know very well turns me into a quivering jelly but from the moment I found myself safely onboard a number 21 bus from Newcastle (I had planned to get the train but it was utterly utterly crammed) the day went remarkably well. The crowd was large enough to create a great atmosphere without ever feeling claustrophoic and the people I met turned out to be lovely. The cricket itself was as compelling as I was expecting and there wasn't any rain. I even engaged in a bit of celeb-spotting: Mike Gatting, Matthew Hoggard and Jeff Thomson (I had to google that last one as he's before my time) were all seen milling about. I managed to stand in queues without panicking and got a seat on the bus back with no trouble at all, largely thanks to a speedy exit and cunningly walking to an earlier bus stop so as to beat the crowds (no flies on me).

All in all my best weekend in ages, just ready for another week of twelve hour shifts at work...