Two odd things struck me yesterday: why is cricket, a game dependant on good weather, one of the national sports of England,, upon which the heavens are prone to open; moreover, why do they open with such vengeance on the day we go up to watch the match?

I love cricket. All my family does. It is a game which requires patience; a game which one can see mature over the course of four or five days, while bowlers do battle with batsmen. Granted, it may take some time between wickets, but if one observes carefully, a lot is happening during that time. It is a game of tactics, of intellect. Chess with bats.

So my family were greatly disappointed. Mark, Luke and Kat had come down, and we had all gone up to watch the cricket. But it raned. and it rained, and it rained. At about half two we gave up, and drove home, wet and more than a little disappointed. Nobody more so than dad, who got us all into the sport by playing it in the park with us since I was in a double buggy with Luke.

Thus we came home, and the sun came out. After two seconds of deliberation, me, my brothers and Kat bundled into the car and headed for Manchester, our tickets still valid. We were all feeling decidedly guilty that, by that time, dad was feeling too unwell to join us.

We all came to the conclusion that we were jinxed, because as we were approaching the ground, it started to rain. Most people started to leave, so we had to fight our way through the crowds – me in my manual chair – to get to our seats. When we did, I hunkered down under a huge am-ex brolly, pondering the stupidity of playing a game so dependent on good whether in England. However, patience pays off eventually, and the skies cleared, there was a pitch inspection, and half an hour later , the players came out….

Only to play six overs. Sis poultry overs. We didn’t even get a wicket! The sky was still blue, yet they retreated to the pavilion. The only reason for this that I can think of is channel 4’s intention not to disrupt its Saturday evening schedule. The television stations which cover such events are becoming increasingly powerful. After all, there would be no play without TV revenues these days. It still, however, sucks, when you have waited all day to watch it live.

6 overs is better than none. It is still great to be among the crowd, watching their beer-fuelled antics. Thus, despite the rain, yesterday was a good day, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.