WHEN I was vaguely young enough to play cricket for my village side, I liked to be square-leg umpire when I was out, basically because I knew the rules and quite enjoyed it.
We had to leave our home ground while it was being redeveloped and went to Sponne School in Towcester, where the Swann brothers started out, mind you, how they ever got on, on that ground? We would have to the pick the litter up, kick down the molehills, and worst of all, pick up the metal shards where the mowers had gone over the metal drinks cans.
“Left hander, umpire.” “Yes I know.” “Wel...