Each Saturday I faced him. Johnny Denton, the fastest bowler in our district. When our two teams met I would work myself up to face him promising myself to do better than the last time.
He would sneer at me thinking I was an easy one to get out. He run in gathering speed before he delivered a rocket paced ball at me. I’d swing and miss and he laugh at my attempts. This happened every time. One day I hit one, it sailed over the boundary. Everyone stared in disbelief.
His derision, my determination, I became a better player.