Sheffield Cricket Lovers' Society Year Book 2022

8 In 1976 I witnessed the nest piece of teaching I ever experienced. For some reason I was really struggling to grasp the concept of direct and inverse proportionality. “Let’s put it this way Hukin, your A-level results will be inversely proportional to the time that you spend at cricket”. e scales of ignorance immediately fell from my eyes. One lesson was learned, but sadly, the bigger lesson was missed. It still frustrates me that I have no idea why I went to my rst cricket match. It was Yorkshire versus Somerset in the John Player League on 18 June 1972, but I’ve no idea why I went. My family had little interest in sport; dad followed boxing, but that was it. I must assume it was because Sundays for schoolboys then were so tediously dull, and the game was played at Bramall Lane, just half a mile from my house. Whatever the reason, I went and it was love at rst sight. My clearest memory was the whole crowd standing and cheering Brian Close to the crease. at’s strange, I thought. He bats for the other side (it wasn’t a euphemism in those days) and ‘we’re’ cheering him. As a veteran of four years following the Red and White Wizards, I’d never experienced such behaviour towards an opponent; there was something curiously appealing about this cricket. From then on I was in love with the summer game, but had Yorkshire not played at Bramall Lane I might never have seen a match. Serendipity. Sundays were never quite as monotonous again. I have frequently found God to be a ROBERT HUKIN admits he didn’t set the world on fire when he was playing sport, but paints a splendid picture of his life watching it - and gets a few things off his chest.