Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Sport

Day 164

It’s late afternoon, I’ve got Test Match Special on, listening to the fourth day of the test match of England against New Zealand. I have to admit that I had been denying myself the pleasure of listening to the cricket, partly because of superstition (England always seem to do badly when I listen, and they’re not doing great right now) and partly because I didn’t want to re-ignite my passion for playing. I watched the highlights yesterday night, to see what was widely reported as a superb innings by Joe Root, and it was. The only problem with seeing a world class player on the top of their game is that they make batting look easy, so easy that we who watch can kid ourselves that we could play that well at our own level. It’s not true, and I have spent this morning reminding myself of that, reminding myself of the mental torture I’d be subjecting myself to again if I did start playing, and reminding myself that I can’t afford any type of injury a week before I go away on holiday. So I’m contenting myself, and not actually feeling impatient or rueful because of that content, with being an enthusiastic and grounded listener and watcher of test cricket. Let’s see what the end of June and the whole of July bring mentally and physically. It’s important for me to be contained and focused. And for me to go on holiday relaxed and level-headed, and excited for two weeks of free time out of my usual surroundings.

Just took a break an ordered a wireless mini-keyboard for my mobile phone so I can write my blogs easily while on hols. I can’t give up writing every day. That would be cheating. I’m not promising extensive blogs, nor a revelation of my whereabouts, but I will be aiming to keep Aggie going at a minimum 500 words a day.

Most of the day, I’ve been thinking about how we miss people when we’re away from them (or they away from us). Covid-19, of course, exaggerated this feeling, because even the possibility of being with people we love disappeared (for most of us). What I always say to those I love is that even when we’re apart we’re together, that there are invisible no-physical bonds that hold us together and bind us to each other, and that those are bonds which can never be broken by anybody or anything, not even death. This is what I believe, not because I have to believe it or need to believe it, but just because I believe it. And I need no empirical scientific proof to underpin this belief. The proof is in my blood and in my mind. That’s it. We are a part of each other.




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