Patch Of Puddles
  • Archives
  • About Us
  • Neonatal Loss
  • Health & Issues
    • Birth Stories
      • Birth Story – Frances
      • Birth Story – Maddy
      • Birth Story – Amelie
      • Birth Story – Josie
      • Birth Story – Freddie
    • Cleft Lip and Palate
    • Caesarean & Vbac
    • PASS will Pass
  • Home Ed
    • Making Paper Boats
    • Home Ed Resources
    • A Typical HE Day
    • Jump Page
    • Ed Report 2003
    • Ed Report 2004
    • Ed Report 2005
    • Ed Report 2010
  • Puddles
    • Poetry Collection
    • Books
    • Camping List
    • Favourite Adult Fiction Authors
    • Gardening Pages
    • Poetry Collection
  • Contact
    • Places PoP is Listed
    • Disclosure & Privacy
    • Social Media Channels
    • Work with Me
You are here: Home / Uncategorized / It's just not cricket.

It's just not cricket.

October 10, 2011 by

It would be an understatement to say I am a failure when it comes to going to major events. My pop concert count stands at one whole event, which was to see Bucks Fizz when I was 11. I’m not proud of the count, I still don’t mind saying that they were my favourite band back then. There was a certain suitability to The Land of Make Believe being my favourite song 😉 given I spent most of my life holed up in my bedroom with huge and complicated games spread across the floor, mostly constructed of paper clips and drawing pins, much to the bafflement of my much hipper sister.

I have since made it to Exeter’s Party in the Park, where I had the dubious pleasure of watching a Spice Girls tribute band, but I have to confess, I don’t really cope well with events of that nature. There are other people, for a start, and it’s loud and the toilet facilities are never good enough. What can I say, I’m unsociable in that particular way, lose the ability to converse in loud noise and I have bathroom issues. I never get the thing with going to events where having fun chatting to people is one of the points of it, where the music is then too loud to make yourself heard over it 😯

I’m not remotely a fan of sport either, so the chances of finding me at most types of sporting event are remote. I did love going to the World Gymnastics Finals a couple of years ago; I do understand that sport a bit and well, what can I say, the event had seats, not too many people, no seriously loud thumping music and good toilets.

You get the picture 😆

Papa Puddle is a different human entirely; while generally more socially reserved than I am, he’ll cheerfully dress up in period costume for historic car racing events, get up a 5am to stroll round the paddock looking a vintage racing cars he’s looked at regularly for 30 years or more and he loves going off to watch various sports. He goes to see rugby of one sort or another most years and kept his temper admirably when I wouldn’t let him buy England cricket tickets earlier this year because I was convinced it would precipitate baby bump disaster to spend money on a fixed moment in time.

Image Credit XKCD

I’m convinced most commentators on the TV and radio sport he enjoys were put on this earth to irritate wives with their endless statistic related burbling. I put up with it, the tedious comments on tennis, the unbelievably annoying ‘football grammar’ of Match of the Day, the earnest ‘the world has ended’ dissections after matches in relentless rugby tournaments. What drives me mad though, completely mad, are the people who commentate on cricket. I have never heard such inane rambling rubbish as those men manage to come up with. They need to go out and get jobs. In fact, I think it is the clearest indication of my commitment to my marital status that I will sit in the room with it. I heckle them though, because I think it is only right. No person should be able to make a living out of discussing bus routes, pigeons and cake*.

Come to think of it, perhaps cricket commentators were put on the earth to divert wives from heckling their husbands 😆

(*except bloggers.)

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Comments

  1. knitlass says

    October 10, 2011 at 2:04 pm

    Oh dear! I love TMS – it can be inane, is always rambling, sometimes informative and often funny. I have quite a soft spot for the various commentators – Tuffers, Blowers, CMJ, Aggers etc. Not quite such a fan of Geoffrey Boycott… but my husband does a good impersonation of him to make me laugh :0 I like TMS best in the background, on a sunny day while we potter in and out of the house, or clatter in the kitchen making cake.

    If you want really execrable commentary try moving to Scotland and then watching Welsh Rugby on Friday evenings with a bizarre commentary from a pair who read out completely inane text messages which mostly have nothing to do with rugby….

    • merry says

      October 10, 2011 at 11:33 pm

      I think I might turn inside out if I were subjected to that!

  2. Beth says

    October 10, 2011 at 11:14 pm

    Doesn’t he watch snooker? I bet snooker commentary is more ridiculous. And we love snooker 🙂

    • merry says

      October 10, 2011 at 11:32 pm

      I would leave him if he watched snooker!!!

      • Beth says

        October 11, 2011 at 2:34 am

        That cracks me up. It’s funny where all our different lines are drawn 🙂

        • merry says

          October 11, 2011 at 8:17 am

          My grandfather, who was the cleverest man I know (in the same style of clever that Max is) used to watch snooker. I never got why but now I know Max I suspect that he was secretly writing bounce angle formulas in his head as he watched.

Categories

Archives 2003-2015

Recent Posts

  • After The End.
  • The End.
  • “The last thing I want to do is document it all.”
  • Big Changes.
  • A Toy or Two to Tempt me to Blog.

About Baby Freddie

  • Baby Freddie
  • Update on Freddie
  • Stop all the Clocks
  • Alongside and Beyond
  • Freddie's April.
  • 23 April 2010
  • A Life More Ordinary
  • Freddie's Day
  • Balancing it up.
  • Other Stuff

Recent Posts

  • The End.
  • “The last thing I want to do is document it all.”
  • Big Changes.
  • A Toy or Two to Tempt me to Blog.
  • 11 days. 
  • Not 6. 
  • Buying for Dad: Perfect presents for all ages
  • Memories of Paris from my teens – and my teen.
  • A mother’s day.
  • Easy Tips & Tricks To Introduce Your Children To Gardening

Daffodil Boy

#DaffodilBoy

MerrilyMe on Pinterest

ShareNiger

Cybher 2013

Copyright © 2025 · Metro Pro Theme on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Cookie settingsACCEPT
Privacy & Cookies Policy

Privacy Overview

This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary
Always Enabled
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Non-necessary
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.
SAVE & ACCEPT