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So, you did it again. You didn’t learn from that old cliché about who’s to blame the second time you get fooled. By the time that particular adage floats into your mind, it’s already too late. You’re there and, not only are you there, but you also remember you paid extra for a ‘premium’ ticket this time round in the vain hope that it might yield an improved experience. Standing in what looks like a drab, lifeless conference room while you queue for beer, you realise money can

In the 120 years since Scotland first squared off against New Zealand on a rugby field, Scottish hopes of a victory have rarely been so high. In the build-up to the match, pundits and columnists have spoken of the strength of the current side and the relatively lacklustre recent form of the All Blacks as signs that today, at long last, might just be the day that long-awaited victory is seized. And yet, amongst fans, that optimism is tempered with a resignation bordering on fa

Sometimes it’s good to engage with things you don’t agree with. For example, it can be healthy to get some of your news from sources with an editorial policy that doesn’t necessarily reflect your opinions to avoid finding yourself in an echo chamber. Personally, I don’t wholeheartedly believe that free market capitalism is the answer to all the world’s problems, but I’m subscribed to The Economist. It’s good to have your point of view challenged; to see what the other side is

The County Championship is frequently mythologised, cast as a totem of an idealised English summer where days are long and sun-drenched. Where folk gather on village greens to watch local heroes in pristine whites do a very civilised kind of battle. The ECB’s 2015 history of the tournament is entitled Summer’s Crown, a term which suggests that multi-day cricket is an intrinsic part of the season. Certain writers, influenced by this discourse, engage in a process of near-const

Look, I could do this the easy way. I could churn out another milquetoast ramble about a routine afternoon at the cricket, about the appeal of the game in its hinterlands or whether second tier competition has the quality or the following to exist much further into the 21st century. I could tell you that, founded in 1848, Clydesdale Cricket Club is the oldest surviving sporting institution in Scotland. But what would be the point of that, besides furnishing you with a piece o

I expected it to be quiet. For the gulls and the occasional oystercatcher floating on the breeze overhead to outnumber the spectators. I only made the journey here because this is the ground where my maternal grandfather got his all-time best bowling figures (8-2 or 8-3, depending on which day you ask my uncle). I expected to write some elegiac piece about how my grief for his loss would somehow be reflected in a small, silver-haired crowd watching a dying game under ash-grey

You wake feeling hopeful. Your team is playing its biggest-ever home game. Rugby is returning to Scotland’s national football stadium for the first time in 20 years and Glasgow Warriors finally have a venue for their leg of the 1872 Cup that could be a match for Murrayfield. A great day for rugby in this soccer-dominated city awaits. It’s even a nice day. Crisp, clear, bright. ‘I’ll take the bus’, you think. Your first mistake. Hampden Park is 5.34 miles from your house. You

Dr Hamron Zafar dons his replica kit, drapes himself with a flag, gathers his impressive collection of banners and makes his way to see his favourite international team at Galle International Stadium. When I first see him, he is holding up a banner, adorned with the beaming face of his favourite player, declaring that he has travelled over 2,500km to see the side live for the first time. When I speak to him in the mid-afternoon heat, he has got two player autographs and seen