In the summertime

TL;DR: Cricket. Cricket cricket cricket.

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A couple of years ago, some part of me decided that, as going to cricket and writing words about things were two of my most favourite things to do, combining them somehow would make the various trips more rewarding and make me not feel quite so procrastinatory when increasing how much I do both. Thus, Stumpline was born and, to date, three match reports were scribbled. Somehow I ended up at the premiere of Death of a Gentleman chatting about it with the editor of Wisden, the world’s foremost sporting literary compendium. Fun was had by all. Unless, for some reason, you actually wanted to read things.

This year, it’s all going to be a bit trickier. No longer do I qualify for Sussex CCC’s excellent Junior Sharkz membership, and I spend more than half my time in Southampton as it is. I won’t be, as pictured above, gallivanting around majestically, occupying a scorebox for the school 1st XI to distract myself from impending doom exams. Nevertheless, county memberships are sorted and a train fare fund is slowly being accumulated to make this season hopefully somehow more crickety than the last. A day of indoor liveblogging for the Wessex Scene kicked me off a couple of weeks back, and now there’s no time to turn around.

Back in January, I set myself a target of writing something, no matter how hollow or hasty, about music on Perpetual Playlist and, nearly three entire months into the endeavour, things are still going steadily and the introduction of a strict writing routine has (largely) been enjoyable. Therefore, it’s time to take this to the deckchairs.

This summer, I’ll post something on Stumpline at least once per day I spend physically watching cricket. Some days, that’ll mean a conventional match report; others, a tenuously-linked garble on how the only thing English domestic cricket is missing is the hypnotic gangliness of Michael Rippon. Like with the music stuff, scheduling it to post the next morning at 10am is likely going to be the most convenient way of giving it enough time to be written, regardless of other things I may/should be getting distracted by, but it will certainly be a tad more flexible this time around. To get all the delicious posts spammed in your general direction, follow me or the blog on Twitter.

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The pre-season at Hove kicks off tomorrow morning, as does one of those storms so supposedly intense it deserves a name. What an enthralling start it shall be.