It is not often that I get to watch the Greek God(zilla) in all his finest cricketing action.
I have listened patiently while he has regaled many a dinner guest about the time he scored 50 runs in a single innings.
I have nodded along proudly whenever he has spoken of his week-long stint as team Captain and the legacy he left behind.
I have happily supported his annual cricket tour to Somerset, and laughed along at a running team in-joke about a box, a big sausage and the Turin Shroud.
The Greek God(zilla) can not tell it without bending over in hysterics with tears falling down his face, but it is not even a little bit funny. Maybe you just had to be there… but no WAGS allowed on tour, they are very strict about that.
I’ve been sympathetic over sporting injuries. But not as sympathetic as I could have been, apparently.
I’ve not complained about lost Saturdays, bats by the side of the bed or bags being left in the hallway for a week after the match.
Well not yet anyway… I will assess the situation again this evening.
But, I have only seen him play once.
An injury to his calf muscle rendered him off the team last summer, but I do not recall why he was not
selected available to play as much this year.
So when he told me that his team would be playing in the South Bank Challenge tournament at a local Dulwich cricket ground this weekend, I thought it would be a great opportunity to take Zachy along to see his Dad in action.
Well, that was the plan.
By the time we arrived mid-afternoon, the Greek God(zilla) had already been benched after bruising his thumb as he tried to catch a ball.
‘I think it is broken’ he groaned as he wiggled it in front of my face.
‘Let me see… put your beer down’
(it has been pointed out to me that this is a perfect example of not being sympathetic enough)
After examining the patient, I diagnosed a bit of bruising and prescribed arnica & paracetamol.
‘I might as well have another drink then love’ he replied sadly.
Then off he skipped into the Clubhouse and seemed to completely forget that he had a wife and child waiting outside.
25-minutes of jumping in pretend muddy puddles later and swinging a threenager round in circles until dizzy, we spotted the Greek God(zilla) reclining on the lawn nursing a bruise in one hand and a pint in the other.
‘It’s my calf muscle, love’ he said with a
guilty pained look on his face ‘I think it’s flared up again’