Execrable

An execrable performance on the cricket field yesterday has left me sleepless. Not in Seattle, though I’m led to believe cricket is quite popular there – nice to see an English tradition of playing cricket in the rainiest part of a country lives on in the colonies.

I haven’t quite worked out why I don’t sleep well after a loss. After all, there’s not always that much a captain can do about it. Yesterday a team we picked to play a bunch of wandering crickety types instead ran into a team full of league players who’d had their Saturday games rained off. I felt like the Polish cavalry charging the German panzers. But, y’know, without death and the end of national independence. Just slightly soiled bowling figures and a batting collapse.

All of which spreads to a day’s work like some sort of fungus, and may even infect my week. I hope not. I don’t want my working week to end up like my flat, which seems to be turning into a menagerie and toadstool garden, with comedy mushrooms on the window sill, spiders galore, snails on the boathroom wall and this week’s special a three inch long coachman beetle. It’ll be toads next.