My father died in 1930, but if you told him or anybody almost in that time that you'd be able to sit back in England and watch a cricket game in Australia, they'd have you put in the loony bin.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I delayed my father's funeral because of cricket.
When my father died, I was living in England. It was very traumatic that he died when I was away.
One afternoon when I was 9, my dad told me I'd be skipping school the next day. Then we drove 12 hours from Melbourne to Sydney for the Centenary Test, a once-in-a-lifetime commemorative cricket match. It was great fun - especially for a kid who was a massive sports fan.
My dad talks about the times when we'd play backyard cricket: If I got bowled out, I'd just refuse to let go of the bat and swing it at anyone who tried to take it away from me. I like to think that's been tempered a bit over the years.
When I came to America in 1978, I was a huge sports fan - the problem was, my sport was cricket. Shockingly enough, no one wanted to talk cricket with me!
Although my father is English, I was brought up in Australia.
Those were the great days when plenty of amateurs could spare time for cricket.
My granddad always said he wanted to make me an England player. As soon as I went on to that pitch against Portugal, I knew he could die a happy man because he'd achieved his aim in life.
Mum told me stories about her time in the Women's Royal Navy, and about her dad, who had died before I was born - he'd been sent to Australia as a child, then joined the Australian Army in the First World War and fought at Gallipoli.
I feel I have had a very interesting life, but I am rather hoping there is still more to come. I still haven't captained the England cricket team, or sung at Carnegie Hall!
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