Scott Oliver on a time when Allan Donald lit up the league with Rishton

Friday night, eve of the match, end of the working week. You’re down the local, as you often are before a big league game, only this time, instead of a couple of steady, relaxing beers (“one’s not enough, two’s too many, three’s just right” as the old adage has it) and the usual chit-chat with the pub’s cricketing infidels – people who don’t know their trigger movement from their trigonometry and couldn’t care less whether you’re going to shorten your backlift tomorrow.
You’ve lost your beverage-discipline and are order...