NEWS and nostalgia go hand in hand this week when many pavilions have been visited and old friends rediscovered.

Sunday, May 22 was Old Player’s Day at Bristol. Some attention was given to an ongoing county game against Northamptonshire but more was paid to the 50 or so former players who, invited by the mercurial Andy Brassington, congregated in the Grace Room.

The oldest was Geoff Mains who, 65 years ago, walked out to bat against the fastest bowler in the world, South African Cuan McCarthy, without a vital piece of protective equipment. Only realising this as he approached the wicket, Geoff was too embarrassed to tell anyone and bravely, but only briefly, batted.

Newest member of this cheerful group was ex-captain Alex Gidman, forced into retirement by a finger injury. Living near Rodborough Common, Alex is optimistic about his new and original business venture. We were less than optimistic about the cricketing fortunes of his brother Will, who is some way down the pecking order at Nottinghamshire.

The next day Mrs Light and I sat next to David ‘Syd’ Lawrence at the Grace Society lunch. Never has there been a sadder cricket moment than when Syd split his knee cap bowling fast for England.

He has plenty of warm memories however. We spoke of the marvellous summer evening at the Wagon Works ground in Gloucester. On a good wicket, Gloucestershire had just scored over 300, Yorkshire were dismissed in 22 overs for 85. Syd bowled unchanged and took five wickets, including that of Sir Geoffrey Boycott.

Syd, a true son of Gloucester, was carried from the field shoulder high by former friends from that well known seat of learning, Linden Secondary School for Boys. Now the owner of a successful night club, Syd remembers that evening with relish.

The Northamptonshire match meandered to a draw as too many are doing these days. Fifty four championship matches have been played and only 16 have seen a positive result. Thirty eight draws is too many. The ECB request for better wickets to encourage spinners is to blame.

On Bank Holiday Monday, Penny and I were at Worcester for the second day of the championship game against Gloucestershire. The Worcestershire tail-enders savaged our attack with number 10 batsman Jack Shantry slogging a century. Our emerging bowlers have to learn to bowl at tail-enders who are hitting out. Words like 'straight' and 'yorkers' come to mind.

The Gloucestershire reply was uneven but a maiden championship century by newcomer Graeme van Buuren has so far kept us in the game.

Mrs Light had a mixed afternoon. She had enjoyed a fine lunch but was then struck on the chin by Hamish Marshall who hit a fine six. Gone are the years when she would have caught it and thrown it back.

There are too many funerals these days and a fellow team-mate Mick Hopkins, for many years a doughty wicketkeeper for Rodmarton, was buried in the village on Wednesday, May 25. As well as the sadness of such occasions there is always the opportunity to reminisce and a group of us who grew up together, when Rodmarton still had a railway station and Elvis Presley was just checking in to Heartbreak Hotel, did just that.

We had the basis of a good cricket team right there. Ray Hopkins, latterly of Bibury, would have spearheaded the bowling. His older brother Norman would have led the batting line-up and I may have chipped in with a few. Mavis Hopkins would have scored. Ken Eatwell, would be a resolute lower order batsman. His sister Barbara, now Clutterbuck, still graciously attractive, would help with the teas.

Remembering the village life of our youth we all thought that whatever the function so many villagers would be involved and doubted if it is the same today.

We would be wrong in the case of Poulton, whose cricket club is celebrating its 125th anniversary. Community spirit is still alive and well in Poulton.

I sat with many former Red Lion customers and nostalgia prevailed. Micky Sharpe, for many years a diminutive but spirited winger for the town rugby club, remembered his playing days and of course cricket was a major part of our ramblings.

No-one mentioned defeats, rather characters and companionship. Especially warm words were reserved for Cath Weighell and Elsie Jarvis who had looked after the demanding appetites of Cirencester rugby players.