Jul 4 – Aus V Essex Day 4

Diary of the 17th Man

The Day o’ The Rhino

There was a sense of foreboding at breakfast this morning, and it wasn’t because Coach 2.0’s digestive system was back in balance after ThunderGate. And it wasn’t because we had to check out of the hotel this morning so we could leave for Cardiff this afternoon direct from the ground. Neither was it because a cute little red jumpsuit got caught up in Puff’s laundry and turned most of playing kit a nice shade of puce. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but The Prof had sensed it too – and it seemed to build minute by minute during the bus trip from Colchester to Chelmford. [Ed. A 40 km trip each way for a tour game? We need to get organised here!]

It all came out in the dressing room before play. The Natural’s Knee had finally given up the ghost. The twinge that kept him out of this game was no twinge but a split in the tibia. More surgery is required, bone grafts etc etc, and the rehab path, which was well worn already, was just too far for the old stager.

There were tears, some blubbing, hugs and cheers. And that was just from the team doctor and The Natural’s orthopedic surgeon, who was on the line from Melbourne via skype. After an emotional speech, it was a bit awkward in the dressing room – we were left there with the fallen warrior while the rest of the team went out to take the remaining eight wickets to secure the win. [Ed. Although in the end, two of the Essex boys failed to show – something about broken this or bruised that.] The Natural just wanted to be alone, but was kept busy shaking his head every five minutes as Sarah (Head of Marketing) asked him if he was ready to do some media interviews, sign some memorabilia or take his replacement in the squad down to the nets to offer him a few pointers.

After an hour we decided we needed to intervene. We told Sarah that there was some dodgy ticket reselling happening behind the ladies’ toilets on the other side of the ground, and she was off out of there faster than one of The Natural’s vicious out-swingers.

He looked up with thankful eyes, unable to speak. We left him with his thoughts, and spent the afternoon in the quiet of one of the stands, with three computers humming away calculating The Natural’s payout from the Players’ Pension Funds No. 7, 8 and 9. We handed him a printout with the final figure as we got on the team bus. It seemed to cheer him up, and he led a rather high spirited celebration was we drove through the evening to Cardiff, where it all begins on Wednesday.

Australia 562 and 220, Essex 414 and 200. Australia by a few.