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The Lincoln meeting is on, but as stinging horizontal snow and savage North Sea gales are rendering the start of the flat season as appetising as a soggy piece of cardboard on a plate, I thought this would be a good time to stick two fingers down the throat of memory and bring up something from last week.
Cheltenham debriefs should always be viewed whilst wearing sceptical glasses; one cool blue lens to filter out the stomach churning joi de vivre of the writer who couldn't stop backing winners; one rosy lens to soften the jagged misery
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I scribbled something suitably misanthropic about the Ashes at Cricinfo this week, but whenever I am grumpy on this subject, I feel slightly sheepish, as though I have betrayed an important cause. The feeling is hard to describe; its a bit like the guilty pangs you experience at the pit of your stomach when you sneak into McDonalds (although not quite the same as the bowel-troubling pangs you feel having dined at McDonalds) or the creeping embarrassment of being caught watching the X Factor.
Perhaps it's not a principle that I'm betraying when I grumble about all
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No, I've never been drinking with Mitchell Starc. Come to think of it, I've haven't imbibed any substance in the company of a professional cricketer. I'm not sure if this is one of those experiences I should add to my 'Things To Put On A List That I Will Almost Certainly Never Get Round To Doing' list. I have been drinking with people who were better cricketers than me, but that is a large section of society, which includes almost everyone between the ages of ten and seventy who has ever played, watched, or thought about cricket.
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Life in fourteenth century Italy was unpleasant. Cricket had not yet been invented. Toilet facilities were rudimentary. People were hemmed in on all sides by plague, famine, war, and the wretched twanging of mandolins. Then there was the threat of being burnt at the stake, a popular pastime in the Middle Ages. (Had it not been for the persistent drizzle in these parts, the barbeque would surely have been credited to European civilisation.)
But there was one area of life in which the people of pre-Renaissance Italy had the advantage over us twenty-first century types: the
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