Keith Waine played cricket for Etherley and Bishop Auckland and I’m told was somewhat a natural. His pal and my Pa (Alan Milroy) also played cricket for Etherley, but Pa was not perhaps a natural, though it was something to occupy time between football seasons. However with a tenacious attitude and a sporting tendency still made the team. In fact on a particular Saturday when few regulars were available he took 7 wickets for 35 runs, yet didn’t get a bowl the following week, cricket captains being funny people. Take a look at the photo. I don’t know the year but it was from a black & white era, when haircuts didn’t exist and cricket jumpers were hand knitted and reached the knees when wet with rain.

With Cockfield having no cricket team Jonna and I played for The ECC, sadly not England but ‘The Wood’ and along with Peter Henderson were the team’s three ‘Fell men’. In fact Jonna and I would refuse to where jumpers despite an Icelandic breeze blowing over Cragg Wood just to prove how weather immune Fell Men were. The bones ache now though!

So when I reached the shores of Stonehaven I enlisted in the local team, Stonehaven Thistle CC, albeit in truth to find some drinking buddies. I’m making no judgement of cricketing in Scotland but my renaissance sees me in my 5th season, now 1st XI captain and opening batsmen, at 40. I’m also wicketkeeper but that’s more to do with a John Wayne gait and an overplayed western limp, courtesy of football days.

The team has some token locals with the balance composed of English and South African’s, oh and a long standing family from Yorkshire, which they believe is a country on its own. And a bloody good bunch of lads they are! Jonna made a guest appearance last year.

I once turned up in cowboy boots, shirt and neck-tie and with a ‘Geordie’ accent was thereafter named Spender. Not quite a nailing detective but the name expanded to ‘Big Spender’. Dawn assured them though that my frugalness meant that particular hat didn’t fit.

Last weekend’s visit from Ma and Pa left the latter with the choice of trailing the shops of the Granite City with the ladies and kids or watching me play cricket at Cults, a well to do suburb on the West end of town. The ‘no brainer’ saw Pa at Cults with a flask and bait box I’d prepared. He’d been working hard on my garden in the morning so decided to take a nap in the car whilst I began proceedings. Cults are a strong team and asked STCC to bat, no doubt in the expectation of a Custer style massacre and an early finish. But when Pa wandered down through the extensive gardens and rhododendrons to the Allan Park Stadium the script was not being followed and we put a very tidy 199 runs on the board.

Pa was settled in a seat by the changing rooms, with his flask, as Cults reeled at 11 for 3 and the unthinkable was on. They clawed to 100 for 7 when one of the lads announced it was 6pm and he had to leave. That’s us down to 10 men.

‘I’ll play’ says Pa standing up, ‘Sub fielder – if that’s allowed?’ ‘Are ya sure’ says I. He was keen as mustard, so I requested of the opposing captain, a gentlemen of cricket named Masuid, ‘Can me father play?’ He looks, nods his head and that’s how Pa made his STCC 1st XI debut at 69 years and 8 months.

He went to fine leg and saved a few 4’s, our slip running half way back to shuttle the ball back.

‘You’ve only fetched him on so you can order him about’ says one of the Yorkshire boys. I didn’t move him around too much and I finished every request with ‘please’, very polite captaincy indeed.

We put them out for 127, it was the first time I’d ever beaten them and Pa was part of the team.

The only difference between now and the old photo - the jumper he borrowed came from a website and wasn’t knitted by my Nana!!