The locals of Clontarf

Irish cricket really is a family affair. I had a long chat with a local, Jim Gallagher, this afternoon at the friendly, picturesque ground of Clontarf, who was enjoying several pints of Magners. He pointed out Ed Joyce's father, and several other parents of current and former cricketers fluttering around the boundary edge. Today's third umpire - whose name eludes me - was also milling around sharing jokes and tales with everyone. The atmosphere is more like a club match than an international - and the press conferences are held on the steps by the car park, with the burger-and-chips van's engine still whirring. All very Heath Robinson, as my Dad would've said, relaxed and good fun.

Today's match was attended by three journalists, Chris Gayle, and 20 autograph hunters. It's a frenetic two minutes of sound bites and quite clearly the future.

Clontarf really is a beautiful ground - but I very nearly missed the delayed start due to my taxi driver not understanding my ridiculous estuary English. "Clontarf cricket club please," was my humble request, but he simply couldn't decipher where I wanted to go. Before reaching for my pen and paper, he cried "ClonTARF!", slapping his hand on the steering wheel in a euphoric gesture of victory. We were on our way.

But back to Mr Gallagher. Towards the end of the day, Imran Khan, West Indies' media manager, kindly asked whether I would like to speak to Fidel Edwards. I agreed, and grabbed a pen and paper to write a few notes and come up with a unique question which no one had ever asked him. Ever. Bereft of inspiration, I asked Jim and his friends. It was a dreadful mistake.

"Ask him whether he prefers Clontarf or Stormont!" came one, which was met with "oohs" and jeers and even a "that's brilliant!" from the others. "Does he know that West Indies have played four times the number of one-dayers at Clontarf than Ireland? Ask him that" was the second request (an interesting point, though). And the third? "How does he rate the West Indies women's side?"

Fortunately for Fidel, and probably for me too, he was unavailable.