I’ve never been to Headingley before. I’ve been tempted by a Barnsley supporting mate. Even my partner’s been, as she studied in Leeds (and, crucially, likes cricket a helluva lot more than me). Maybe life could’ve been very different had my mum agreed to birth me in Yorkshire, as was my dad’s want, on the offchance I’d be any good at cricket. (You had to be born in the county in those days.) Anyway, I wasn’t.
It’s also the European Championships and my other half is pushed for time after yoga, so I treat her to a lift rather than the train. Besides, we want to be back home to watch England FC in the evening. All of which means that I’m having one beer all afternoon, so it better be a good...Northern Monk Faith in the Skyrack, 5 minutes from the ground. It’s surprisingly sparse, but that’s better than surprisingly busy as we have a table to watch the first half of the Netherlands v Poland.
Rules have been read pre-match on what we can and cannot take in to Headingley, so of course the stewards try to refuse our cans of Coke and Lilt entry – unless they opened first. Given I could have brought 4 440ml cans of beer, would they have insisted I opened all of those? Anyway, they knew the rules less than we did, but, of course, they control who gains entry.
We’re with a couple of old hands, Wadd and Moll (plus Wadd junior). Our entry cards say we’re Yorkshire members...shall we go in the members’ pavilion at the north end? Why, of course. We edge round as far as we can go (so we’re behind the stumps) and pass Dickie Bird on the way. He’s well wrapped but looking very frail these days. And why wouldn’t he be? I’m sure he was 70 when I was a kid.
Despite the enforced excitement of whoever’s on the mic, there’s not many here. Is the T20 novelty over? I’ve only ever been used to large crowds at The Oval, invariably on a Friday nite after work. It’s warmish this afternoon. Or it is until the sun moves round and we’re in the shade. (We’re too bone idle to move and accept the chilliness in resignation. I notice Dickie has gone. He’s got more sense.
By now Yorkshire are in, chasing 167 to win. I have no idea whether the Leicestershire score is good, bad or different, but as Yorkshire hit 13 off the opening over, you fancy it’s not enough. And Yorkshire have some (literal) heavy hitters at the top of the order...Dawid Malan, Adam Lyth and Joe Root, internationals the lot of them. Another, Dom Bess, is in their bowling attack. By contrast, I’ve not heard of a single Fox.
And it’s like every other T20 I’ve ever seen. Just as a partnership begins and a side looks on top, he’s out, and the other team look likely. I guess that’s the appeal of a 20 over ‘Blast’ as opposed to 4 or 5 days eking out a draw. The Vikings slowly fall apart and wickets tumble faster than the runs. From 15 overs in it looks all over...and it is. Still, I’ve visited a new stadium and by dint of being in the members’ bit, I don’t have to actually see this stand, a modern day horror show with its triangular bits of shininess (?) at jaunty angles which just looks...s***.
Up the Foxes!
The Damage:
£12.50 ent (£50/4)
= £12.50
I’d have had an ice cream, but the queue was too big. I went to the toilet later and would have had an ice cream, but the queue was STILL too big. There was nobody there yet the ice cream man was doing great business.
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