The Gentleman's Relish
I went to my first cricket match yesterday. I packed a book, a newspaper, my crossword puzzle book (and pen), a scarf, a hoodie, sunglasses and two sandwiches. I used everything but the book and crossword puzzles. The whole afternoon was very relaxed and fun. The air smelled sweet, the sun was out, there was lots of tea and cake. And if I may brag for a moment, Nick batted for an hour and a half because no one could get him out and ran up the score so they won the match. And on two hours of sleep, no less! Very boner city. If I were English, I’d say something here like PHWOAR but I’m American so I’ll just say Daaaaaamn, Gina.
The pitch was in Great Haseley, Oxfordshire. I love place names in England. Especially the addresses. Sometimes they don’t even have a number in them at all. Nick’s mom’s address is seriously like
Last Milky Door Road
Anyway, Great Haseley. Everything around it was all rolling greens and fields of rapeseed, and the village church looked like a castle and the village pub had a thatched roof. There was a windmill. It was aaaalllllll Englanded up. As we drove through the village on our way to the pitch, I may have cooed a bit over the church’s toweriness and Chris warned me, “Don’t you dare say quaint or I’ll have to hit you.” I told him, “I didn’t say quaint, I said cute. And I’m allowed to say cute… we ain’t got this shit from where I’m from, y’all! I’m from the land of the Dodge Durango!” But then later, in the pub garden, there was a sudden dogfight while we were drinking our beers so maybe it wasn’t that far from Oklahoma after all.