Somehow cricket is slowly letting me into its back cavity. There I was, dressed all in black like I was heading to a mobster’s funeral, the only man without a bow tie, deep inside cricket’s most feted orifice, the Lord’s longroom.
Obviously the Lord’s secret service hadn’t properly checked me. I was just allowed to sit not far from Mike Brearley and Clive Lloyd in the Lord’s long room for the Wisden Almanack Dinner.
I was surrounded by paintings of cricketers who were mostly white, and mostly dead, and in the company of cricket people who were mostly the same.
To show how important the occasion was, I wore a suit, tie and put gel in my hair. The evening started with some kind of prayer, because God is the ultimate cricket administracrat.
Then I read the menu, it was Confetti duck, quail egg and other assorted foods that I wouldn’t ever eat unless I was forced too. Free wine though, no other free booze which seems unfair.
There was an ode to the Queen as well, as she invented cricket.
While I was still digesting the quail egg (which is really just a small posh regular egg, I mean really, just give me an egg, it’s cheaper and has more egg in it), Scyld Berry was announcing that it would have been nice if he was asked back to edit Wisden again, instead of being assholed. The room got a little tense at this.
Luckily that was all forgotten when there was a round table discussion about how Asia was ruining world cricket. Or something like that.
I say round table discussion, it was more people saying things into microphones, and then people yelling out from the crowd, and then a woman from the BBC shouting bullshit.
I think hearing a woman from the BBC say bullshit in the Lord’s Long Room was worth me putting gel in my hair.
Then at 3AM I saw Matthew Engel dancing.
It was quite an event.
All of this fun was in aide of the new Wisden Almanack.
In which I have another piece with swearing in it. It’s about blogs and twitter and things like that.
You can buy the book here, or you can just go into a store, turn to page 151, revel in my work, put it down and then read a Noam Chomsky book to show how utterly brilliant you are.