Today is a Bank Holiday in the UK and I hurt all over. I have just discovered why it's called a bank holiday (courtesy of the Wikipedia link above):

In 1871, the first legislation relating to bank holidays was passed when Sir John Lubbock introduced the Bank Holidays Act 1871 which specified the days in the table set out below. Sir John was an enthusiastic supporter of cricket and was firmly of the belief that bank employees should have the opportunity to participate in and attend matches when they were scheduled. Included in the dates of bank holidays are therefore dates when cricket games were traditionally played between the villages in the region where Sir John was raised.

Which allows me to explain why I'm in agony. Yesterday I played my first game of cricket of the season. For one reason or another (mainly the weather and a tricky travel schedule) I have missed all this season's games of Baldons Cricket Club. I have played for this lot for thirty-three years and it shows.

The club represents two village, Toot Baldon and Marsh Baldon (known by those from Toot as sin city). There is a church and a pub in each village. Above is the Marsh church. And this is the Seven Stars pub which is on the edge of the cricket ground.

Yesterday's game was fairly typical. We won the toss and managed to reach a paltry 142 having been bowled out in a couple less than the allowed forty overs. I contributed my usual two runs coming in at number 9 in the batting order. We had a great tea and then waited for the inevitable humiliation as the young, fit and clearly professional openers from Aston Tirrold set about getting the runs required with no loss of wickets and an early drink in the pub. Miraculously, our bowlers performed like international superstars and the visitors were all out for less than 100. And then to the pub. The good news was that their innings lasted for only thirty overs. I was keeping wicket and I'm not sure I could have moved an inch today if it had gone to the full forty. Here are some action photos of a previous game taken by Terry Trinder. The wicket-keeper is not me but is a successful publisher.

This one is there as much for the cottage in the background as for the cricket.

And this is our captain, Mark Denning, with hayfield for losing balls in background.

Back to the book world tomorrow.