First viewed : 28 August 1984
It's a measure of how bored I was becoming in that long summer vacation that I was prepared to give watching cricket a go. Cricket had always been my most loathed sport, associating it with my Dad hogging the TV, watching people in white wandering around for hours with occasional short bursts of action. It was also a sport where the weather could decide the outcome which didn't make sense to me.
I'm pretty sure I've got the right date as my Dad went to Manchester every Tuesday to conduct small transactions at the bank that he could easily have done in Littleborough but I suppose he wanted to feel he still had a stake in the big city and I wouldn't have dreamed of watching it with him.
England were playing Sri Lanka just weeks after being smashed 5-0 by the West Indies to a storm of derision from the press, captain David Gower coming in for particular criticism. I recall half way through that series they'd recalled a veteran bowler called Pat Pocock to try and steady the ship and he was still in the team against Sri Lanka. Other than that I can't recall a damn thing about it and I remained unconverted.
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