It was a slow day, but I guess it's important to have those occasionally. I only really left the house to cycle over to Horsforth to watch the first team play. It was mostly sunny but incredibly windy, a rather unusual combination. By the time I arrived Forrest has already departed for single figures, and the next two batsmen had also been and gone in quick succession. The mood was as dark as the clouds that started to build in the early afternoon. It felt very cold watching the game once the sun disappeared so I didn't end up staying too long.
I followed the score on-line when I got home and saw us recover a bit, only to falter again to post just 129. I gave up when I saw Horsforth had almost got a hundred up for loss of only two wickets. However, when I did go to check the final score I found that they'd subsequently collapsed and just scraped home by a single wicket. So near but yet so far again. I only saw Forrest for a few seconds as he flew in and out of the house in the evening. He refused to talk about the game. Once you pick up a losing habit it is very hard to break.
On the way back I called in briefly at Ben Rhydding to check on the second team to discover that they'd been bowled out for a mere 47 runs. The heads are certainly down at the moment. It's a struggle.
This tree is a bit of a straggler, also struggling with this very strange cold summer. Things can only improve ... surely?