Since I know I am right, I am going to post the next one just to save time since I am leaving after this.
I have decided to pose questions (whenever its my turn) in which I can share something I would like to share with you guys so please bear with me.
Here is a beautiful piece of cricket writing.
QUOTE
My pitch was the --------. with a steel fender running along the off-side and the old ------ ------ at long leg. While play was in progress, I used to kneel on the rug; my right hand was the batsman and my left hand was the bowler. The bat was a school ruler, the ball was a small rubber one, valued at a penny, and the wicket was a propped up copy of Pilgrim's Progress.
To the best of my small ability I tried to match my method to the individual style of each player. For Oxford's polished batsman, R>E> Foster, I would try to be wristy and elegant ; for Jhonny Tyldesley I would execute the latest of late cuts ; while, as for those daring fierce pulls of George Hirst's, my poor dear Yorkshire step-mother went to heaven nearly thirty years later without knowing that it was a whole-hearted leg-hit by George Hirst that cracked the scullery window. I never told her. If I had, she would undoubtedly have said, "You wait till I talk to George Hirst's mother...."
I varied my bowling, too, with a nice sense of contrast and character. This was necessary, because sometimes I was Hugh Trumble and sometimes BJT Bosanquet, whom my step-uncle walter caled Bozzikew. I had not the faintest idea of what a googly was, except that it was vastly peculiar, and I tried to stimulate it with a high bouncing delivery which the batsmen found difficult to time. I was, as I have always been, the slave of my own rules, and strove, within the limits of patriotism, to be scupulously fair to both sides; that is, I would try to bat just as well for Trumper as for Hayward and Tyldesley and bowl as well for the Australian bowlers as for the English...well all except Rhodes. It was impossible to keep Rhodes down to an ordinary level of excellence. The man who in the second test at Melbourne took 15 for 124 could not be judged by ordinary standards. I did not know then what a 'sticky' wicket might be, except that it was something terrible, and I pictured, not unjustly, a state of afairs in which the batsman's feet were glued to the ground and his freedom of movement horribly hampered. Morally, I was right, though it was difficult on an honest -------- to reproduce the horrors of a Melbourne 'sticky dog'.
.......
No wonder I cheated a bit on Rhode's behalf by not quite letting my right hand know what my left was doing.
UNQUOTE
Who is the writer and where did he play this cricket in his childhood that he is reminiscing about ?