A lovely day out at the cricket today. Young Geoff was in town for Middlesex v Yorkshire at Lord’s, his having arrogantly decided months ago that Yorkshire would be in with a shout at the title

He wasn’t wrong. His team, Middlesex and Somerset are all still in contention, which is quite exciting given there’s only one day of the season left.

He was there with Chloe, his Strauss-loving friend, who was supporting Middlesex. I arrived around two, bringing rain which delayed play with Yorkshire on 349-9, one run away from the batting point they needed to stay in contention for the championship.

I spotted Chloe and Geoff lurking under the Tavner stand, through the railings from the road. But I was waiting for Paul and his fancy season tickets. He turned up, and we retired to a nearby hotel bar to drink tea, discuss the Labour leadership election and watch the video to Busted’s “what I go to school for”.

The rain seemed to be easing off. We headed to the cricket, sitting in the stand below the crashed spaceship of the media centre, single microphone poking through the single openable window for the TMS crew.

The people around us were mainly Yorkists. The cheer that went up when Ryan Twobottoms took them past 350 was mighty, followed by the bovine chant of “Yorkshire, Yorkshire…”

Matty B turned up for an hour, and Tombo from the OBOccasionals also put in an appearance.

Chloe had her 3 year old kid with her, and she was really well received by the other fans and was wonderfully well behaved. We got to hang out for dinner at a Jewish deli in St John’s Wood after the game, and had a great time. I ate a substantial amount of salt beef and played peekaboo under the table: a winning combination.

Turns out Chloe lives around the corner from me, so hopefully will get a chance to see her again soon. It was quite strange to see someone for the first time in years, who doesn’t seem to have changed one bit, despite huge life changes (relationship, child appearing somehow, etc) happening in the interim.

We took the train south together, and I had one last child pleasing trick up my sleeve (metaphorically) – a conker in my pocket. She was delighted. 

A lesson for us all.