THE PUSHY DAD

He was rubbish when he played, so he’s living vicariously through his children. He’s the type of guy to try and butter-up the coach at county trials and will be straight on the phone if his child isn’t selected. He doesn’t give goodnight kisses, he gives throw-downs. He doesn’t read bedtime stories, he reads Wisden. His daughter is only five but he’s already tipped her to be the next Katherine Brunt. He keeps trying to work on her bowling action but all she wants to do is watch Frozen and do cartwheels on the lawn. Homework can wait; he’s got his son in the garden practising his yorkers every day after school. The poor lad gets a new bat and gloves every Christmas but all he really wants is a bike and a summer holiday.

THE TEA LADY

He’s got a trigger finger like
 John Wayne and is a firm 
believer in DRS – Dad’s Review System. He’s more corrupt than FIFA and would sooner die than give his kids out lbw. This guy has ruined many a junior cricketer’s day but honestly couldn’t care less. He makes Kim Jong-un seem like a paragon of virtue. He makes Robert Mugabe’s politics seem moderate. He’s the human embodiment of that time when U2 stuck their album on everyone’s iTunes; nobody asked him to umpire, it just happened.