There's a good chance you've probably stumbled across a Southland club cricket fixture or two over the years.
Whether it be wandering through Queens Park on a Saturday afternoon and hearing a muffled LBW appeal. Or heading past Hamilton Park in Gore and capturing a game out of the corner of your eye.
But it’s likely you are actually unaware of the strange but glorious individuals that give up almost their entire Saturdays, all for the battle between leather and willow, in front of pretty much no one.
I dish out that strange tag with a lot of respect attached to it. I was once one of those in the club cricket fraternity, and proud of it.
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