Our youngest son wants to captain England at cricket. I understand childhood obsessions, his mother is buzzing when we take him to practice “nets” but I can’t help feel deeply deeply betrayed
All of my graft about playing sport against England has failed. Of his three older brothers, only the oldest supports Celtic, the middle two were sneakily inducted into their grandfather’s favourite club, Liverpool, while the youngest just wants to hit “boundaries” and likes “Duncan Fearnley”, the latter sounding like an old extinct cigarette brand
Stunned, distressed but more than a little chuffed he’s aiming so high so young. Have to throw a tennis ball endlessly at him down the hallway. “Forward defensive, forward drives, back foot defensive”, “cuts”, “hooks”, surreal lexicon. “Don Bradman” apparently practiced batting using a single stump to improve his aim, so the side of the house is now a stump/tennis wall where he endlessly tries to knock the ball back n forth as a rally
Look out Australia