Yesterday, it must be said, turned out to be quite an awesome day. As I often do on Saturdays, I headed over to Charlton to see if anything was happening in the park. I had hopes of seeing some cricket, but thought it may have been a little late in the season. If there wasn’t a match on, I would have carried on down to woolwich to see if anything was happening there. As luck would have it, though, I got to the park just as a match was about to begin, and my favourite team, the Blackheath Mighty Eights, were playing. All of a sudden it felt like old times – that was my afternoon sorted.

The match went really well: you simply can’t beat the feeling of being among friends, whom you have now known for years, sat at the edge of a cricket pitch, watching them go out and play. The camaraderie among those guys is wonderful: they are all reasonably intelligent young men who play off one another. They are all friends and tease each other; sooner or later someone goes to buy some beer and the fun really starts. Yesterday, Blackheath batted first and set a target of 157 – a very respectable score. They know me rather well these days, so I sit with them and watch them, talking to them about all kinds of things as they help me sip my drinks. My good friend James wasn’t playing yesterday due to an injury, but about mid-afternoon he came to watch, accompanied by his wife and very cute nine-month-old son. It was great to see him and catch up, and for the rest of the afternoon we sat together, talking, drinking, and watching the Eights get their opposition out for about 105, and thus earn a convincing victory.

I’ve now been going to Charlton Park for over twelve years. When I was living with Lyn, of course, I went there almost every day. That park, and indeed that whole area, still holds a great deal of emotional weight for me and probably always will. I have so many memories in that park and the roads and lanes around it: of buying groceries at the Co-Op, of helping out at Charlton Park School, of going to meetings at Charlton House. Charlton was once a huge part of my life, and I’m glad that going to watch cricket matches there, surrounded by good friends, keeps my link to that little suburb alive.