Ah! Spring is here and with it the smell of long stored flannels. I search though the cupboard for my baggy green cap. The invitation, I’m holding in my left hand, is from the local cricket club inviting long retired players to get dressed up for a match at the oval down by the creek.
It is rather a long encyclical admonishing us retirees that we should not forget the legacy of Steve Smith, David Warner and other sporting luminaries. There is a confounding post script reminding fielders and bowlers to remember to pack their underpants with Cameron Bancroft sandpaper accessories.
I make my way to the shed and locate several sheets of sandpaper of numerous grades but am unable to find any produced by a Bancroft. I secrete several sheets in my underwear and head for the oval. I’m glad that the tiresome rugby league season is over and that now is the time for the gentleman’s game to emerge from its winter slumber.
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