It's getting to that time of year where the season gone and the season to come are equidistant, both seeming to be a long way away. It's right about now that my winter fever starts to bite, and so it was a couple of days ago I found myself practising shots and dusting off the Neville Cardus. I also picked up a second-hand copy of John Arlott's "Rothmans Jubilee History of Cricket 1890-1965", which I'd seen in the market a few times but never before quite felt the urge to purchase.
There's a bitter-sweet quality to reading Cardus in winter. I'm reminded of everything I love about cricket while at the same time painfully aware of its absence. One would have thought my thirst would be somewhat quenched by having the opportunity to bowl a few balls at the juniors over November, but that's never the way with this kind of infatuation.