Sam writes:
I finished work at 8pm – the moderately-late shift. Not as late as the 10pm but later than the 6pm. Arriving home, I was greeted by my girlfriend and her mum watching the football.
“Hello,” my girlfriend said. “The football is on.”
This was a surprise. Tuesday night is Holby City night. This is a well-established tradition. Holby City, followed by the second half of the football on ITV+1 while she has a bath. Am I giving away too much information? It’s ok. It’s only the internet.
Anyway, I had dinner – mashed sweet potato and salmon – and the football continued. The reds scored, then one of the reds kicked one of the greens and saw red, then the greens scored twice.
The news came on afterwards because nobody could be bothered to change the channel.
I was tired so I went to bed and read my book for a bit.
Send your match reports to king@kingcricket.co.uk and on no account mention the cricket itself, although you could perhaps find yourself in slightly closer proximity to it than in this particular report.
This is a masterwork.
I had no idea that real people actually live like this.
I thought that the sort of lifestyle described was just in the movies.
Thanks for allowing us into your life, Sam, albeit everso briefly.
Thanks, gang. I had forgotten all about this. It has fair brightened up by day.
In fact it has been so long that said girlfriend is now my fiancee.
I’m sorry to hear that, Sam. My condolences.
The only thing that could enliven proceedings more would be an animal that was not only conspicuously indifferent to cricket, but also any other TV programme you might care to mention.