Sam writes:
Angry clouds greeted my arrival at the second day of the Guildford cricket festival. A colleague had promised a press pass would be waiting for me “at the gate.” Predictably, no such pass materialised, and said colleague was incommunicado, away on an all expenses paid trip to Spain. Something to do with pre-season training for a non-league football team. After much faffing, the stewards let me in, pointed me towards the media tent and told me to “get set up.”
A friend of mine arrived, we did a circuit of the ground, it rained for a bit. At lunch we went and got some beers from the beer tent. A pint of TEA for him and a pint of On The Rails – a strong, dark ale – for me. I purchased a cheese and tomato sandwich tightly wrapped in cling film for £2, and a slice of lemon drizzle cake for another £1. We also had some Pringles and a Twirl.
There were some corporate tents. They had words written on them like ‘Investec’ and ‘Allianz’. The Mayor of Guildford seemed to have one, and he appeared to be entertaining the chair of the town’s Chamber of Commerce. Lots of men were standing around in suits and pink shirts. They didn’t appear to be very interested in the cricket.
Just before tea we got some more pints, then it rained again. We guessed that would be it for the day, so headed to a pub which boasted a ‘gentleman’s corner’ and a locked door that had the words ‘the back room’ written on it. Then on to a cider festival where there was a battle of the morris dancers competition.
We thought about going for a curry but we were tired so we went home.
There is a man in a flat cap standing several feet behind his belly and holding what appears to be a beer glass with a handle. I do not think I have seen a finer specimen of true British manhood than this for many years. It is hard to tell, but I’m hoping that the coat he has on is a donkey jacket from his job with the council.
In other news, excellent match report Sam. I’m not sure about women morris dancers though – it seems a bit weird that women would dress up in fancy silks with bells on their ankles waving handkerchiefs in each others’ faces, don’t you think?
There seems to be a team of Forensic Scientists top right – presumably to collect evidence in the bloody aftermath.
An absolute classic of a lunch report there although I would have appreciated some prices
I did include the prices, Ceci. Cheese and tomato sandwich for £2, and a slice of lemon drizzle cake for another £1. They were round numbers, none of this £1.99 nonsense.
The Pringles and Twirl were brought from home and I believe the pints were an eye-watering £3.50 each. But that’s par for the course in Guildford.
The mention of Pringles was a little cricket-related for my liking. The variety of morris dancing on show also has a rather cricket-like look to it, if I might say so.
But otherwise a superb match report, Sam.
We do actually call them ‘Dereks’, to the general bafflement of casual fans who discovered the game post-1993. But I think I might have mentioned that in a previous match report.
Who or what is Derek Pringle?
Also, what’s 1993?
Ridiculous fiction. Nobody would pay £3.50 for Derek Pringle. Not even the Telegraph.
Argh, comprehension fail. I see Derek was staying around yours, Sam. Much more plausible.
Tired?
You must have had a sojourn of Rip Van Winkle proportions given the time delay in filing this report. 😉
I filed it the day after the match, if memory serves. Blame the editor.