It’s another game I took part in, and later reported on in the local newspaper under the cricket column.
It was in the old Cumberland Senior League and I was captain of British Steel seconds playing at Culgaith, always a popular place to visit – mainly for the quality of the teas!
On arrival we passed an outdoor swimming pool, covered in green algae, and I came out with the throwaway remark – any ducks today and they go in there!
Chuckles, groans and cheers followed that as we made our way into the changing room.
We were put into bat and I opened with Syd Wilson, cheerfully thinking that the first priority was just to get off the mark – and then relax and take it from there.
But it didn’t happen. Third ball, through the gate, middle stump knocked back, bat under the arm and back to the pavilion.
Now not a word was said, the swimming pool was never mentioned, by anybody. We duly completed our innings, a respectable enough score in the 150s and we tucked into a gorgeous tea which was always served up by the ladies of Culgaith.
Out we went to field, and not a whisper had been heard of anyone with a duck going into the pool. I was the only one who had failed to open his account.
We completed the game, winning by about 20 runs, and returned to the pavilion. I remember thinking to myself I’ve got away with this as I took off my sweater. Not likely.
I somehow sensed Mark Thompson and Mark Wilkinson moving in behind me. I was suddenly yanked off my feet, hauled through the door and alongside the pool.
I do recall managing to stress it had to be the shallow end as I was a non-swimmer. In I went, emerging soon afterwards covered in horrible, smelly green slime. The whites never really recovered from that.
Next year I refrained from any reference to duckings in the pool – for obvious reasons.
