AS far as unusual incidents go, I don't think I have been involved in a match like our trip to Aigburgh for a three-day game, even though it was also the low point in my career.

It started badly because we were staying at St Helens and David Steele, who was a notoriously bad navigator, lost his way and turned up at about 10.40am for an 11 o'clock start.

Lancashire had all their big guns out and won the toss on a flat pitch.

Mike Hendrick and Geoff Miller were missing for us and we opened the bowling with Bob Wincer and John Walters, who, without being disrespectful, were not really front-line bowlers.

David Lloyd and Barry Wood kept creaming them through the covers and they were about 60-0 after an hour.

We kept on at Dickie Bird – inevitably it had to be Dickie umpiring – that they never usually bowl as wide as this and eventually Dickie sent for the groundman with one of those old-fashioned chains and he confirmed that the wickets were out of line.

Dickie was a fine umpire but when something like that happened, he got the flaps on. Finally, he decided the game was void and we would have to restart. We put lunch back and started again but again after 10 overs they were about 60-0.

It didn't help that Fred Swarbrook, unfortunately, had got the yips and bowled a few overs that were interesting, to say the least. It was a great shame for Fred because he was a very good cricketer.

Clive Lloyd came in at 240-2, which is not really what you are looking for, and eventually they plundered us to 406-4 declared.

We had a lad called John Lister in our side and during that first innings, he chased a ball to the boundary but tripped and almost garrotted himself on a rope the groundsman had put around some grass clippings.

He had to go off to hospital but he was still able to bat later and we got 300-4 declared.

I didn't bat. I was picked as a specialist batter to come in at number eight and I was feeling really low but when it came to our second innings, they got us six down and I went in.

I was in a bad trot but, for once, I was thinking positively. Jack Simmons was bowling and Lancashire had a young lad on the field as 12th man about 17 or 18 years old from Aigburgh Cricket Club fielding bat-pad.

I went down the wicket to Jack and clipped the ball firmly but straight to this lad, very close at silly mid on, and he caught it between his knees. I was out for four.

I was always bitterly disappointed when I was out and would trudge off. The boys said sometimes they needed a rope to pull me in.

I never really lost my temper, though, but I'm afraid that day I had to bounce my bat off the dressing room wall because it was probably the most frustrating time of my career.