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As soon as I caught him with a pelter that angled in off a crack in the pavement they made me first-choice strike bowler. Mum thinks I remind her of a young Bob Willis on account of my bowling arm being slung down low on run up. ‘Just like ‘im off the telly,' she'd laugh, wringing her hands on her bleach-clean pinny. Dad, though, says cricket's a game for toffee-nosed ponces with dayli...