A Village Cricketer's Lament
I’m batting at eternal number ten.
My mediocre talent falls apart;
Soon I’ll be walking back on nought again.
I’m in a team of skilled, well-coached young men,
Convincing me that cricket is an art.
I’m batting at eternal number ten.
I do not move my feet or sidestep when
A lethal bouncer flies towards my heart.
Soon I’ll be walking back on nought again.
I play and miss and run byes now and then;
My innings never has a proper start.
I’m batting at eternal number ten.
Below me is eleven, ‘Rabbit’ Ken,
But he has cunning wrist spin to impart.
Soon I’ll be walking back on nought again.
With every failing stroke, the scorer’s pen
Marks down my dream like some offending dart.
I’m batting at eternal number ten;
Soon I’ll be walking back on nought again.
Stephen Gospage
Sat 6th Apr 2024 08:06
Thank you Greg, John, Graham and Trevor for all your comments. I sub-titled this 'lost dreams' because there is always an element of sadness and disillusion when someone who loves a game realises, after repeated attempts, that they are not very good at it.
It happened to me and to many club cricketers who, despite their lack of ability, turn out every season and still hope for that day when everything may come right and they will get to their first fifty or make the winning hit.
It's true that the villanelle form can, through its repetition and rhyme, accentuate the sense of despair and resignation. Yet the love of the game still remains....
Thank you all again.
And my thanks to Hugh, Holden, Steve, Manish, Tim and Leon for liking this one.