Hawthorn Homecoming

I've felt seriously jet-lagged today. I got a reasonably early night but slept through two alarms, the cat wanting to be let out, and a wake-up shout from Roam. Each time I stirred I slipped straight back into a deep catatonic state. I got well over ten hours of sleep but I've felt wiped out all day and very flat. Part of that could be down to the fact that I'm riding the Etape du Dales tomorrow and the body is just shutting all systems down in preparation for the very hard day on the bike to come. Part also could be down to getting back into the routine of home, making food and doing laundry and all that boring stuff that I've been lucky enough to have been saved from this last two weeks. Part also could be the very grey and cool weather, which has provided a stark contrast to the perfect weather I left behind in the States. The biggest part of my lethargy, though, is probably down to the return of my cold. I thought I had seen the back of it but for some reason the runny nose and the cough have returned with a vengeance.

Reading that paragraph back I guess it's no wonder I'm feeling a bit flat! Forrest got called up to the firsts again so I reluctantly decided to give Roam's game for the seconds at North Leeds a miss today, not relishing the cycle out there and hanging about in this cold weather. Sadly, they lost, but Roam seems to have bowled really well, picking up 4 wickets and having 4 catches missed. They could so easily have won if a couple of those catches had been held. Roam was not in the best of spirits despite his own personal performance. The team is everything.

I went down to the club mid-afternoon to see Ben Rhydding begin their run chase. Forrest was soon in to bat at No.3 and, sadly, very soon back again, out for a second ball duck, creaming one right out of the middle of the bat, but finding a fielder who took a great catch, plucking the ball out of the air inches off the ground. There was a moment of disbelief for the two of us, united in the shared agony. I'm not sure for whom this is the hardest: me watching or him playing. This game of cricket has a horrible habit of biting you hard when your head isn't quite in the right place. But that is actually what makes it such a great game too. When those moments of success come along and the ball sings effortlessly off the bat, runs accumulating at will, the satisfaction is all the greater for the despair of days like today. The irony is that the firsts managed to win a very close game, so I'm expecting Forrest to be celebrating tonight. My trouble is that I get to suffer for the lads individually, but I don't get that same reward in respect to the team thing.

I took a short walk on the moor this afternoon. Visited my favourite Hawthorn tree here. It's been transformed in the last few weeks. It will be again soon when it comes into blossom. I do love visiting my favourite places when I've been away for a while.

Running late because I've got sucked into watching the Champions League Final. And it looks like going to penalties! Better post this before that point. I then need to get myself organised for tomorrow's event. I hope I feel a bit more with it tomorrow!