At lunchtime, I looked out of the office window and watched the rain coming down.
It had rained overnight, too. The morning had been cold, with low grey cloud, and nothing about the day suggested a particularly pleasant evening at the cricket.
The Governor-General’s XI were playing New Zealand at North Sydney Oval. I wanted to go. Whether there would be anything to watch was another question.
By late afternoon, the rain had stopped long enough for the streets and footpaths to dry. The cloud remained, along with a little wind. Then, as I packed up to leave work at six, it started raining again.
I went anyway.
Fortunately, North Sydney Oval is only one metro stop from the office, about fifteen minutes door to door. It was an easy enough trip to take a chance on.
I arrived about half an hour before the scheduled start and settled into the stand. The players were warming up and the ground staff were preparing the pitch. I wondered whether I might spend much of the evening sitting there watching YouTube.
There was already something else to watch.
Flying foxes were coming and going around the big fig tree at that end of the ground. They would fly out over the oval, turn and head back into the branches, their wings catching the light as they went.
A young girl a couple of rows in front of me was trying to photograph them with her dad’s phone. She seemed entirely absorbed in catching a flying fox in flight, even once the cricket started.
I could understand the distraction.
At 7.05, the game started on schedule.
That felt like a minor miracle.
The Governor-General’s XI batted first, and the sound of the ball coming off the bat was immediately satisfying. Clean, sharp strikes carried around a ground with plenty of empty seating.
North Sydney Oval is a beautiful place to watch cricket anyway, but there is something particularly appealing about it at night after rain. The air seems clearer. The sky is dark, the grass catches the lights, and the white ball stands out against it.
Just before play began, I’d wondered whether the spectators were outnumbered by the combined ground staff, security and team support staff. More people arrived once the game was underway, but it remained a small crowd.
The weather probably hadn’t helped. Neither had it being a Thursday night. Still, admission was free, New Zealand were playing, and the Governor-General’s XI included some promising Australian players alongside more established names. I was a little disappointed there weren’t more people there.
Those who had come seemed to know their cricket.
A well-hit shot received applause even when a fielder stopped it short of the boundary. Good play from New Zealand was acknowledged, too. There were a few families with children among the spectators.
The applause carried around the empty stands, along with the crack of the bat and the occasional raucous contribution from the fig tree.
The Australian batters gave us plenty to applaud. Boundaries were arriving, and one six went well beyond the rope.
After ten overs, the Governor-General’s XI were 2–77.
Then, at the scheduled drinks break, the rain returned.
For a while, we watched the covers instead.
The rain eased, but another light sprinkle delayed the restart. When the Australian players came out for bowling and fielding drills, I took that as a sign their innings was finished.
The announcement followed later. New Zealand would have ten overs to chase a DLS-adjusted target of 105, more than the Australians had scored in theirs. Unlike the Australians, though, New Zealand knew from the outset they had only ten overs and could take more risks.
New Zealand started slowly against some tight bowling and good fielding. Then the rain came back.
There were a few groans, and some people got up to leave. I got up for a walk. Sitting still in the cold wasn’t doing my knee any favours.
From the fig-tree end, I occasionally caught another familiar part of the evening: the distinctive smell of flying foxes.
It took me back to childhood and a family car parked beneath the wrong tree. The droppings left stains that stayed with it for years, much to Dad’s frustration. We managed to make that mistake more than once.
Eventually, the covers came off again. There was still time for New Zealand to complete their ten overs.
For a few overs, the Australian bowling made the result look straightforward. Wickets fell quickly, including three in one over from Lucy Finn, and New Zealand were six down.
Then the finish became untidy.
Misfields allowed boundaries through, and wides gave New Zealand extra runs and deliveries. The visitors kept scoring, while the final over seemed reluctant to end.
New Zealand finished on 6–85. The Governor-General’s XI won by nineteen runs under DLS.
Ten overs each and a result. Looking out of the office window at lunchtime, I’d doubted we would get either.
I’ll be back on Sunday for Australia against New Zealand.
Hopefully with more cricket and less time watching the covers.