As the executive director of a small community service organisation, I recently received an invitation from a bank to attend a free seminar (in the city) to help me run my operations (in the outer suburbs) more efficiently. Hmm. I am already spending too much time thinking about banks and their efficiency.
My favourite banker was Peter May, graceful batsman and cautious captain of the English cricket team in the late 1950s and early 1960s. He once broke his umbrella on the way to work, playing an imaginary cover drive at an imaginary fast bowler. I assume he was a banker, though all he said was that he worked 'in the city', which is code for London's financial sector.
Peter May had a job and cricket was a game. Which brings me to reflect on the summer game here in a country town. Things were looking ominous for top-order batsmen this coming season. Maybe it wasn't enough that the town won the first and second grade district premierships last year.
My suspicions were aroused in mid-winter on an early morning walk with Maddie the dog before the sun was fully awake. We were wandering along the path by the creek at the edge of the local cricket ground, Maddie jumping in and out of the long grass and sniffing here and there for whatever it is that dogs sniff for, when I noticed the electrician's van parked beside the practice nets.
This was not entirely odd. You need to know that the junior electrician, his name is Luke, is also the town's opening bowler. Luke installed the new lights in our kitchen and garage. He's a handy height for an electrician: he doesn't need a ladder. He's also a handy height for a fast bowler. I went over to say hello, as you do in a country town.
On this particular winter morning, with sunlight just starting to spread across the pastures, there was Luke, head down, pegging some wooden formwork in the ground. He was, he explained, adding an extra metre to the practice wicket, which consisted of synthetic grass on concrete and was only half a pitch long. His activities looked very clandestine, but, as he explained it to me, he had been having trouble last year getting his bouncer to land on the practice wicket: "This should do the job," he said, wiping his hands with satisfaction.