Mark Richardson: Lashings of fun and a reality check

The Black Caps winning this test and squaring the series is highly unlikely to say the least, so enough said on that. Something even more unlikely happened last week and is worthy of a mention - I played a limited overs match for a World XI.

Yes ... dour, pokey, proddy, boring, grey-haired old me was back at the crease trying to score at better than a run every 12 balls.

I was invited to play for a team called Lashings. Lashings is a team more recognised in England and I'm a little foggy on the detail of how they came to be but it goes something like this: Past West Indian great Richie Richardson pitched up as a favour to play for a small village team based around Maidstone in Kent, England. He encouraged some mates to join him from time to time and, as the regularity of profiled cricketers gracing the playing fields around Kent increased, so did the novelty value of the team and people who wanted to play against them.

Businessman, cricket enthusiast and perhaps one of the most generous men I've met, David Folb, saw the potential of what he had on his hands and has now grown the Lashings team, mostly via his own funds, into a brand synonymous with past and some present international cricketers willing to give their time to promote the game of cricket.

The likes of Sachin Tendulkar, Brian Lara, Shoaib Akhtar and Shane Warne have all played parts in the past. One thing is for sure - the better the line-up, the more the weekend cricketer wants to play the team. The two televised, day-night fixtures against provincial South African teams demonstrate where David Folb has taken this concept.

When I got to Cape Town, I realised that, even though my career was over and it was all for fun, I could never leave at home my lifelong cricketing companions - anxiety and expectation.

The minute the pads went on for a warm-up game against a Boland/Western Province selection, back came all the self-doubt, apprehension and overwhelming desire to go to the toilet.

I'm afraid with me it doesn't matter what level or type of cricket I play, there will always be someone I want to impress, others whose expectations I must live up to and my own pride to protect.

It took seven balls for me to get out in the first game and those exact seven balls for West Indian Jimmy Adams to assess correctly why I gave up on the game. While others had questioned my early retirement, I was taking my pads off and rejoining the group when Jimmy patted me on the shoulder and said: "I know why, son, I know. There is only one man who can bat like Geoffrey Boycott and enjoy it and that is Geoffrey Boycott." He said in his thick West Indian accent: "It just isn't natural, son. It is only a matter of time before the mind rejects it."

The main game against Western Province went well for me, thanks to Coach Adams, but we got beaten. It was the team meeting the night before that was the real reason I came though. "Gentlemen," said captain Andy Flower, "Win or lose tomorrow, show the right attitude and do the game justice and behind us is two chilly-bins full of beer."

The next few hours were a cricketing highlight of mine as I enjoyed a beer with Javagal Srinath, Adams, Greg Blewett, Andy and Grant Flower, Adam Hollioake, Alvin Kallicharran and Murray Goodwin.

OK, perhaps not the greats of the game but all great cricketers in my eyes and it was wonderful to listen to them and talk cricket. That's what I went over there for.

- HERALD ON SUNDAY