Things didn’t get any better once the golf started. On one of the early holes, he played his tee shot, then wandered off to the right and rested his three-wood against his golf bag. I told him he’d be well advised not to stand there, because I never really knew where I was going to hit the thing. So he stepped back a couple of paces, and it was a good job he did. From my tee shot, I whacked the biggest slice imaginable. The ball flew off at 45 degrees and smashed straight into Colin’s three wood. It was a freakish shot, it hit bang smack in the middle of his carbon shaft and the club snapped clean in two.
Not the best of impressions to make on my prospective father-in-law.
But at least Colin seemed to like me, which was something that certainly couldn’t be said of Sarah’s mum, Carole, in those days. She had found out about the start of our relationship while she and Colin were away on holiday in France. Sarah hadn’t gone with her, so Carole phoned up while she was away to check that all was well.
‘How are things at home?’ she asked Sarah. ‘Any news?’
‘Not much really, Mum,’ said Sarah. ‘Oh, except I’ve got a new boyfriend.’
‘Oh, that’s nice. Anyone I know?’
‘Well, yes, you know of him.’
‘Is he from the cricket club?’
‘Yes, he is.’ There was a short pause while Carole worked out the likely candidates.
‘And will I like him?’ she asked.
‘Erm, not sure, Mum. I think you will.’
‘Oh, Sarah, please don’t tell me it’s that Matthew Hoggard. That boy is so rude. And he’s always drunk.’
‘Er, yes, I’m afraid it is him. Sorry, Mum.’
So even from that early stage, Sarah was feeling the need to apologise for me. But I’m glad to say that the relationship with my in-laws has progressed considerably since those first days. We get on like a house on fire now and I couldn’t wish for better in-laws. I still regularly play golf with Colin—the Badger, as he has come to be known, because he’s as mad as a badger about his cricket, buying a season ticket for Yorkshire and sitting in the same seat at Headingly all summer. I also still play cricket with Ducey, Sarah’s brother, when I can. As for Carole, I gradually managed to persuade her that I wasn’t always drunk and that I wasn’t quite as rude as she had first thought. I’ve got absolutely no idea what gave her those impressions in the first place, no idea at all. She eventually realised what a fine, upstanding, polite, charming, sober, intelligent individual I was. But it’s a good job that Sarah didn’t listen to her mother’s advice on everything, or I don’t think our relationship would have lasted too long.
†HOGFACT: By the time they reach the age of SIXTY, most people’s sense of smell is only half as effective as in their younger days. As you can tell by the aftershave that old blokes wear.
†HOGFACT: In Massachusetts, snoring is prohibited unless all bedroom windows are closed and securely locked. I’m led to believe that a man’s punishment for this crime is a slap from the wife.
FIVE GREAT THINGS
ABOUT BEING A CRICKETER
WORKING CONDITIONS
You don’t have to work in the rain, in the dark, or in the winter: when it gets cold, we just go to a warmer part of the world and play there instead.
REGULAR BREAKS
You get breaks for lunch and tea built into your working day. And breaks for drinks every hour or so as well. Imagine trying to take that many coffee breaks in a normal working day.
LATE STARTS
Our work doesn’t really start until 11 o’clock: okay, we usually have to be at the ground for 9 o’clock, but we don’t really have to be functioning fully until play starts at 11 o’clock.
THE GREAT OUTDOORS
We get to spend all day outside rather than being stuck in an office: a bad day on the cricket field is better than a good day in the office.
SKIVING
Half the time when we’re at work, we don’t actually have to do anything: when your team is batting, you can either sit and chat with your mates or, if necessary, go to sleep on the job. Nice work if you can get it, eh?
PUZZLES
I’ve no doubt that 999,999,999 of my 1,000,000,000 readers will be completely engrossed in the book by now and desperate to get to the next chapter. But just in case you’re the odd one out and feel in need of a break, here are a few puzzles to keep you amused. If you like SuDoku, sorry, I couldn’t draw one of those…
I can remember coming of age clearly, because turning 18 hit me with a thud. The precise moment that the thud occurred was during my 18th birthday party at Pudsey Congs clubhouse (where else?). I was standing on a chair, getting carried away dancing to Cotton-Eyed Joe, and I smashed my head on the fire exit sign. Not quite behaving like a proper grown-up yet, then.
Unsurprisingly, it was Ferg who decided that the time had come for me to broaden my horizons beyond the playing fields of Yorkshire. I’d played my first few games for the county Second XI in the summer of 1995, and not done too badly, but I was still extremely raw, both as a bowler and as a lad.
So Ferg got in touch with Richard Lumb, his old Yorkshire teammate, who had moved out to South Africa and was involved with the Pirates club in Johannesburg. ‘Hoggy, it would do you good to go abroad,’ Ferg said. ‘I’ve sorted you out a club in South Africa, You’ll have a great time. See you in six months.’ And that was pretty much that.
I spent two winters with the Pirates, then returned to South Africa a couple of years later in 1998, a little less raw, for the first of two seasons playing first-class cricket with Free State in Bloemfontein. Both of them were fantastic experiences which, in different ways, helped me to find my way in the world.
My first spell in Johannesburg, shortly after I’d done my A-levels in 1995, was the first time I’d lived away from home. It was also the first time I’d been in an aeroplane. We’d been on umpteen family camping holidays to France when I was younger, but we’d always driven in the car and I’d never been up in the skies. My mum and dad drove me down to Heathrow, and by the time we got to London, I think my fears had gradually given way to excitement. Never mind the six months away from home, I thought, I’m actually going to go up in an aeroplane! Nneeeeeooowwwmmmm!
When I landed at Johannesburg airport, I must have come across like a little boy lost. For what seemed like ages I was looking for Richard