The cap: Serviceman's Cricket Club, Gunnedah, back in the 1980's - we won a few premierships, but that's irrelevant.

This cap is a biography of time and place.

Of droughts and wash-outs. Of Dennis and Brian rushing off to the TAB at tea to place a few bets. Of utes parked nose-in to the boundary. Of cigarette packets to mark out run-ups. Of sex education lessons while listening to the banter in the weatherboard dressing rooms. Of playing a few players short coz harvest was on. Of the old fellas who weren't that old and us young fellas who were too young to know better. Of wearing my first pair of spikes, and marking centre in 'em for the very first time.

Of Mick and Wicksy and Old Tom and others giving their time to be umpires. Of drawing picket fences in the scorebook. Of thinking the longer the run-up, the faster they were. Of looking in awe at another Brian who had a bit of a finger missing, but still took blinders in slips. Of dreaming of big scores. Of seeing a duck next to my name in the local rag.

And, among many other priceless moments, the day Sam my skipper told me in no uncertain manner: "'F-off, the game's not about you, it's about the team."