Been a while – longer than I realised. And not sure if I’m back or if the mistiness of the grey matter will render this do-able, or not.

Haven’t written about cricket for faaar tooo long. But guess what? Been on a cricket coaching and playing rampage for months. (Maybe I should write about that?) Millfield/Aberystwyth/Shrewsbury/Cathedral School/Gowerton/Llandeilo/Tockington Manor/Llangennech/Crickhowell/Blaina and the rest. Buckinghamshire/Little Stoke (was that Staffordshire?)/Somerset/Gloucester, to play for Wales Old Fellas.

Missed out (and missed) most of the Pembs Seniors action, coz of all the coaching work; the usual madness, just more of it. Heatwaves, some proper exhaustion and crocked calves. Comradeship and disappointment. With the kids, yaknow… development.

How to go there without intruding, though? This may be more personal, more of the person than people imagine. Maybe just stay general. Talk about principles or things learnt rather than What Jonny Did. Maybe I can do that?

Been coaching U10s and U11s. ‘Regional kids’, on a pathway for which their families do have to pay. Have concerns about that and the concentration of activity around certain kinds of venues: the time may come when I am vociferous in this regard but that time is not now.

Now I can celebrate and absolutely unreservedly say that our various crews – been coaching four teams, with my outstanding partner-in-crime – have enjoyed massively, and developed massively. (If that’s a boast, don’t care). And though I do feel a bit head’s-gone and maybe post-energy-slump-tastic just now, my own level of enjoyment has been absurdly fabulous. (Again. Can hardly believe it). Outstanding kids and wonderfully supportive families: almost everybody buying in and letting us coaches do our thing. The Lads rowing that boat and being great company. On and off the pitch. Doing that thing where they try like hell then let go immediately of a battering – too much fun to be had.

Took an U11 side to Shrewsbury School, for an epic five days/four nights of cricket and an U10s side – two, in fact, but was personally responsible for one – to Aberystwyth, for three days/two nights. All this bigger than cricket. All this both a privilege and a pretty profound responsibility. Young lads, some of whom were tearful, come 10pm, at the prospect of mum and dad not being immediately at hand. Opposition that was often much stronger. But still masses of that precious, immediate, innocent commitment – the stuff that builds the team and that feeling that this is good, irrespective of scores, achievements or results.

Sure our team won an incredible, topsy-turvy T20 at Aber, and they were thrilled, meaning *they obviously cared*, but the several defeats either side flew from the collective consciousness a whole lot quicker than the steam train that chugged past. (Young kids can do that, yes? Wipe the slate and get on?) And this is wonderful; to be so undamaged. To go have a laugh, to grab the nearest ball and chuck or kick it, ‘anyway?’ Time enough to get real or rational. We can and did ‘review’ but it doesn’t have to be in the moment of deflation or disappointment. Let’s go jump in the ocean: (we did).

In my experience there are no rules, but ten and eleven year-olds are likely to be able to scoot past ‘failure’ in a way that us Fully-growed-up Humans might do well to recall. Yes they maybe should revisit in order to learn – to develop – but no there’s nothing wrong or inadequate or concerning about the switch back into play or banter. As coaches, we are maybe a bit stuck with the idea that we have to host an instant post-game review (or maybe be seen to host one) but as always this will depend on how present individuals are in that moment. What gives the most value? Have words later, if you intuit that gazes are a bit blank, or players need food or family or freedom. It’s a blessing that the result or the performance isn’t everything, aged ten: let that sense abide, for now.

We Westies often go into fixtures or festivals expecting to be out-gunned by regions who have more and more highly-developed players. Some of this is geography and some of it is privilege and opportunity. Neither of these factors are likely to change(!) so we are left with two broad options: fight like hell or capitulate.

I like to think that we engage option one, but do it with what we might (in foolishly retro language) call a generous or comradely spirit rather than coming over all chopsy and adversarial.

Ah. There may be those at the back of the class here fearing that my insistence on ‘being great company’ as well as bringing top competitive energy necessarily nudges us towards capitulation but no, not for me. I get that this is by nature an adversarial situation and that it may entirely healthily challenge folks’ toughness and resilience – accepted, no issues. But I’m holding out on a kind of faith in sport. Cornier still, I’m gonna say that because I believe the essence of sport is romance (not conflict), there should be a way to compete wholly and powerfully, whilst being a good opponent. Someone who’s good company, even in the heat of all that stuff. It’s possible and I aspire to that – I urge my teams in that direction.

Some may of course think this is naive madness; outdated, outmoded madness. I don’t. I’m a competitive guy but this, for me, is how sport should be understood. Yup – at all levels. Play fair; play to win.

Aberystwyth is a triumph – a word I rarely use, or take care with – every year. A 10s festival, about a hundred young lads (in our case, the girls followed) playing six games of cricket. But also starting their #bantz journey, and their being independent journey, and their eating in a big communal space adventure. Battling (a little, or maaybee a lot) against fear of the ball/fear of the bed/fear of strangeness. Needing and then finding a mate or twelve. Like magic.

But who knew that coaching was so much about getting people comfortable; being nice; being friendly?

Amazing, year after year, to find reinforced that (aged ten/eleven) what’s needed is to be seen; to be encouraged; to be given a chance. Yes we are conscious that *our job* is to develop cricket skills but that bigger picture seems ever clearer. Because these guys are young, because things really do need to be appropriate, we’re confidence-building; we’re in the wider, looser, lovelier business of experience and enjoyment. First imperative? We want these lads/lasses/however they may identify to fall in love with this sport, and (zoom out again, bro’) be ready and inclined towards a life built around activity.

So me and my mad partner-in-crime almost always bowl ten bowlers; almost always rotate the batting order; always know when Jonny or Dafydd ‘needs a bat or a bowl’, or when somebody’s homesick. We’re there, we listen.

Soon as, we muck in and we have a laugh – has to be done. Sometimes, on those ‘residentials’ it’s us that leads the mischief, into the sea, into the arcades. We’re invested in that smiley, woolly stuff as much as the technical gubbins, because this IS bigger than the cricket. The players need, in their individual ways, to feel settled. They need a giggle.