Spire-alling downwards

The most famous thing about Chesterfield is its iconic crooked spire. It dominates the town and seems to appear in the name of every other business based there. The local football team are nicknamed the 'Spireites'. 


It's actually the spire of the Parish Church of St Mary and All Saints. From what I can discover, the twist is a deliberate design feature but the lean is not. It certainly is a sight.


But it's not all that Chesterfield boasts. It has a large outdoor market, the railway engineer, George Stephenson, ended his days there and is commemorated in a statue outside the station, and it has produced some famous goalkeepers. World Cup winner Gordon Banks began his career with the Spireites and Arsenal's Bob Wilson and John Lukic (who also won the old first division with Leeds) both came from the town. And it has a delightful cricket ground, Queen's Park, inside a public park close to the town centre, which I had not visited since the early 1980s when I was a curate in nearby Worksop and Geoff Boycott batted for Yorkshire against the home side, Derbyshire.

Blog readers may recall that I had planned 11 days of cricket-watching during my sabbatical, two four-day county matches, two one-day internationals and the first day of the Headingley test match against South Africa. The first four-day match came to a watery end at Colwyn Bay, and one of the ODIs had also fallen foul to the abysmal summer weather.


I arrived, exhausted after my day in London, at ten o'clock on the evening of Tuesday 17 July  and collapsed into my bed in the chain hotel that had offered accommodation for four nights at a knock-down price. The next morning dawned cloudy but bright and I was in good spirits as I arrived at the ground before the start of play. In fact, I was almost elated. This was how I'd planned it. A picturesque county out-ground, a top-of-the table battle (OK, Division 2), and the promise of some sunshine. It doesn't get much better.

I settled down on the boundary in the midst of a group of cheerful but phlegmatic Derbyshire supporters, starved of cricketing success and programmed to expect failure. Their glass of Old Speckled Hen (the team's shirt sponsors) was half-empty all day, even when Yorkshire wickets fell. County cricket watchers are a slightly eccentric, but always entertaining, bunch. The banter usually provides a day's entertainment in itself. A woman behind me put a stuffed dinosaur called 'Dino' on the next seat to encourage Derbyshire's opening bowler, Tony Palladino, and regularly shouted, 'Come on, Dino'. What's good about cricket on grounds like this is that he could hear, and waved to her at the end of his run-up. A visiting Yorkshire supporter mistook my identity and had to be persuaded that he hadn't met me at a cricket dinner at Headingley. 


It was a terrific day's cricket. 17 wickets fell in the day and Yorkshire ended the day marginally on top, partly due to an erratic, but somehow successful, spell of bowling from former England player, Steve Harmison, on loan from Durham to cover an injury crisis. The one fly in the ointment was a thundery downpour which, fortunately, fell during the lunch interval and caused minimal loss of play. I ended the day with an excellent curry in the town, and all was well.


The next morning it was not well. Nor the morning after that. Nor the morning after that. 


I saw no more cricket in Chesterfield. The 'summer' took over once again. Heavy overnight rain after day 1 continued into day 2, overnight again, and into day 3. The outfield, with limited drainage facilities, just couldn't cope. All I did see was the inside of my hotel room, and Chesterfield's shops and coffee shops. At least I could get on with some reading. And I visited the church, which has some very good stained glass and some interesting side chapels. Frankly, the less said about those three days the better. In fact, with abandonment all but certain I left for home after breakfast on the final day and cut my losses. It was the right decision.


So the 'score' so far, out of ten planned days of cricket: 
7 completely washed out
1 reduced to 2 hours
2 full days' play
1 day still to come. 
I am wondering how to make the case for a further sabbatical next summer to make up for this.


Desperate for cricket I booked a ticket for the forthcoming 20/20 Quarter-Final at Headingley. This is like eating at McDonalds when all the best restaurants in town are closed.


And after seven days the waters of the flood came on the earth

Genesis 7:10