A Christmas Miracle

It was the match before Christmas.
And all through the competition
Thoughts were with the ageing umpire
For his last stand.

He drove to the ground
Expecting, as per normal
The welcomes and friendly waves
From the players, captains and supporters

He imagined the way that the day would proceed.
Resplendent in his white cloth armour
A last coin toss,
‘It’s Heads and see you at 12.30.’
Last preparations for the game ahead.

A ball counter secretly embedded in the palm of his hand
A walking bible of the Laws of Cricket and local rules
A master of mystery of Duckworth Lewis,
A walk with his Umpire mate to the middle for the opening gambit of play.
The final ‘have a good one’ to each other

This proud, ageing survivor of so many tests
Physical and mental.
Where he once again would be the boatman, steering the ship
And handling the rudder when the conditions became a little rough.

In time honoured tradition, he would give the opening batsman directions
as to where to locate each, all or any combination of the three stumps that they needed to be aware of directly behind him,
a last wave to his partner to check if he was ready.
Then, the final salutary wave to the scorers, who would joyfully return the favour.

Finally, the words that he had uttered so many times
With such passion and eloquence, like a Shakespearean actor to an expectant audience,
“Play”
And the curtain would rise on another contest between bat and ball.

As he would stand waiting for the thud of the opening bowler’s feet
He would feel a tinge of regret.
That he would never again hear the players or supporters,
Their expressions of respect and appreciation for a job well done, in the heat, the chill or the rain and battling the nightmare of Duckworth Lewis.

A master negotiator including with the Captains who would good naturedly accept all of his decisions and never harbour bad feelings,
Even at the age of 70 when of course, his mental capabilities are at their finest
Every challenge, every experience, a joyful new addition to his
Repertoire of knowledge, able to be expertly accessed at the drop of his white hat.

And the day would proceed as always
He would be able to tell his grandchildren of his last game,
Of the last time he participated in the great game of cricket.
A sport for gentlemen.

And on that day, appreciation expressed for every decision he made
Every LBW, catch behind, run-out or stumping
A pat on the back, as always
Making him feel a part of the great game and treasured for his part
A round of applause as he walked off between the two rows of players.
What a day!

Yeah, right.
You’re dreamin’