The sound of the crack of leather on willow is an abiding memory for me. It's a sound I first heard in my home village of Hartley Wintney in Hampshire. I spent my childhood playing on and around the cricket green with my cousins and village friends. We climbed on the big grass roller and crawled around in a deep grassy ditch that runs along the north side of the ground. I would like to think local children still do that but suspect they don't as it's all been tidied up and become rather less countrified these days.
And any player who goofs up - drops a catch for example, gets to wear this, on and off the field, until the next chap slips up!
With a couple of cans of lager under their belts they are primed and ready to go.
It can be serious stuff though, especially when things go a big awry and dreams are a little lost. Gloves, pads and bat go flying and the 180 second warning is given. "180 seconds and then shut up". A generous temper allowance when all toys can be thrown out of the pram and thereafter equilibrium is regain. My son, as a child, punched a hole in his bedroom wall in temper so when he was wrongly judged and given out by the umpire his team mates called to me "Mrs Gaucho, I suggest you stand back"!