The Japanese, we are told, recognise no less than 72 micro-seasons. Each “ko” lasts about five days. They have beautiful poetic names: “first peach blossoms”, “frogs start singing”, “distant thunder”. They make England seem a bit prosaic. And maybe stingy – after all, we have just the two seasons: cricket season, and the off season.
Cricket has its own micro-seasons, though. This year, we have progressed from “why didn’t I bring my cricket jumper?” through “rained off again” to “yes that’s actually the sun”. And the early June fixture at North Walls surely deserves its own name, what with the fluffy willow seeds that drift over from the water meadows and across the pitch like the lightest of summer snow. It’s enough to make the most focused and competitive cricketer’s attention wander.
On the first game of this “drifting willow seed” season we were facing a touring team from Essex. A friendly club, they play cricket in just the right spirit, and their team represents all the generations. They batted first. The President (1-27) asked difficult questions with his canny line and length – questions that Great Canfield did not manage to answer with much success. In his seven overs he managed to make the odd one rear up, and the even odder one stay dangerously low. Meanwhile, at the other end, Leo (2-18) roared like his namesake beast: he found movement through the air as well as off the pitch, and kept Great Canfield pinned down like a pair of would-be tamers regretting having ever stepped into the ring. He took two of our five wickets. Finian, the Bard and Dave bowled a few overs without much to show for them – although Dave produced an excellent run-out with the last ball of Great Canfield’s innings. But it was Rupert (0-21) who was the hero of the afternoon, with his wristy variations. He turned it both ways, and turned it some distance – and tied their batsmen in knots. Five of his seven overs went for just one run apiece.
Our target was 140. In other words, we needed just under 4.5 an over. Flipper (0), opening, had some early bad luck, but Leo (35) and the Skipper (39) settled in well. Their batting had both judiciousness and panache, and an attractive partnership of 75 runs was achieved before Leo drove at another temptingly slow ball without quite his usual conviction. It floated towards the waiting fielder at mid-off almost like a bit of drifting willow seed.
At the drinks break we were exactly halfway through our overs with half the runs made: 70 off 16. At that point, some tighter bowling also tightened the Racqueteers’ nerves. And perhaps the guitar accompaniment from the chap enjoying himself on the park bench did not help. By 21 overs our total stood at just 78. Once he had got his eye in, though, Finian (17) turned up the heat, notably with a mighty on-drive which almost made it to the trees by the Rugby Club. Unhappily, he was bowled trying to repeat the feat. G (6) came in with just the right positivity, flicking one off his legs perfectly and looking to make quick runs, and he was unlucky to be run out by a fierce throw from extra cover to the bowler’s end. At 26 overs our total stood at 112: we needed 28 off the last five overs. The tension among the watching Racqueteers was not helped by a maiden 29th over but the Bard (21 not out) and Ed (2 not out) saw it through with six balls to spare – Ed lifting a high one just over the inner ring and making the last run to the audible relief of the spectators.
This is starting to look almost like a winning streak – although we will be tested on Thursday against a typically self-confident Candovers side. After the match, the Racqueteers repaired to the pub with our new Essex friends while at North Walls the dogs and families and runners of Hyde returned, and the willow seeds of early June continued their gentle drift and fall.
The Racqueteers Cricket Club 
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