In the beginning...

When I was a little girl (for I was, once) my dad, each year, would go into the attic and dig out all his old childhood toys for my sister and I to play with. Out would come the wooden fort made by his own dad, sundry lead cowboys (minus their heads) with horses that wouldn’t stand up, and his clockwork train set with tracks set all over the floor, arranged in a way best suited to tripping up mum as she came out the kitchen. Many a great time was had derailing the trains with my Mr Men pencil tops or shoving Mr Bump off the bridge as the 16.15 to Waverley chuntered past...

Amongst the many games that dad brought down from the attic there was a board game of some description, based on ‘cricket’. I recall, at roughly the age of five, asking dad to explain what cricket was. He launched into a lengthy and detailed description that was quite beyond my tiny brain and left me rather traumatised and completely, utterly, perplexed. Cricket, it seemed, was lots of running about and lots of numbers. Maths not being my strong suit, cricket for me boiled down to a game played by multiple bored looking people stuck in a field wearing white. It was “that game with maths.”

In short, I hated it.

My dislike of cricket was so intense that if it was on the telly (yes folks, it really was on the telly back in the day) it would get turned over to one of the two other channels in existence at the time, no matter what was on. I spent many a year booing the sainted Sir Ian of Botham when he came on a Question of Sport, mostly because having a cricketer as one of the captains meant I had to sit through all those awful clips and questions, the answers to which I had no real idea!

And so it continued for many years until one day there was a ‘Road to Damascus’ type epiphany. I switched on the Surrey radio commentary to hear the enlightening words of Mark Church for BBC London. After two games, I had actually managed to pick up the basic rules – sorry, laws – of cricket. It was like that moment when you’re in the swimming pool and you pick up the courage to fling the float to one side and realise that you can actually swim. Or splash about a bit in the shallows, in my case. Cricket was no longer scary.

The reason for my conversion to the world of cricket was totally due to my taking up with a bunch of like-minded persons in the shape of ‘The Rampants’. For the unenlightened, The Rampants are the highly unofficial, unsanctioned and slightly loopy Mark Ramprakash fan club. (I wasn’t calling Ramps slightly loopy there, btw). I say slightly, because we’re actually disappointingly normal. Most of the time. Just don’t mention the word ‘bananas’ to Jean in case it sets her off.

We come from all over the country: an eclectic group of persons of various ages, all with a love of cricket. I’m sure there are thousands more of us out there. The Rampants are a lovely bunch, and it’s been an absolute privilege to know and indeed on some occasions to meet them. I like to think that, when the man himself finally hangs up the willow, we will still remain friends, still follow cricket and still meet up every now and again. Who’d have thought a show about dancing would have such an effect?

In fairness, there was roughly a fifty/fifty split in terms of those who already actively followed cricket before watching Ramps salsa his way to Strictly Come Dancing glory back in 2006, and those who didn’t. Some were lapsed supporters who had their enthusiasm rekindled. For some, like myself, spin was reserved for Peter Mandelson and ‘wicket’ was an Ewok from ‘Return of the Jedi’. He is, by the way. Just in case you don’t know your Star Wars.

Following Surrey has been a joy these last few years. I say that despite the rather, er, inconsistent performances of late. It’s been a bit like looking after a dog with mange: you love it unconditionally, no matter how unsightly or socially embarrassing it has become. You can’t buy that kind of devotion, really. A new vet in the shape of Chris Adams was brought in last year to give the club a kind of M.O.T. And a lot of bits were trimmed away in the process.

This, then, is my attempt at recording my opinions of Surrey’s progress throughout the year 2010 (with hopefully some input from a few friends along the way). I have actually no idea at the time of writing this if Surrey will actually make any progress this year, but the nucleus of a good team is there. If the effort is put in, the weather is kind, and if the gods of cricket smile benevolently down upon them there is no reason why Chris Adams and his merry band shouldn’t have their share of glory.

Above all else, entirely in-keeping with the spirit of the game, remember the Rampant motto. “If other teams are head and shoulders above you, remember to bite their ankles.”