Growing up, all I ever wanted to do was to play for Gloucestershire. In that respect, I count myself very fortunate to have done that. How many kids ever get to realise their childhood dream? For that reason, I can remember the 5 first class and 2 one day games I played like it was yesterday.
It was a Tuesday morning, May 6th, 1975. At the time, I was in my second year at Swansea University. 9.30 till 10.20 on a Tuesday was Russian History and Professor Bodger had us all captivated as he explained the significance of the Battle of Stalingrad. As I was coming out of the lecture, I was passed a message to ring the County Ground at Bristol. Five minutes later, I’d been told I would be playing my first game for Gloucestershire next day against Glamorgan at Sophia Gardens.
After letting the department know I wouldn’t be around for the rest of the week, I jumped onto a bus to the Mumbles to pick up my toothbrush and cricket kit then back on the bus to the railway station in town. I sat on the train trying to unscramble my thoughts. At that time, as a member of the summer staff, I’d played a handful of Second X1 games, with little success, so my sudden elevation had come out of nowhere, though it was apparent that a long injury list had more than anything to do with my unexpected call-up.
Fast forward to 1.25 pm on Thursday, 8th May. Andy Brassington was out, lbw b Nash. 168-7. I got to my feet, put on my gloves and, heart beating fast, made my way along the balcony and down the steps to play my first innings for Gloucestershire. A few of the lads murmured ‘Good luck Crawf’ as I did so.
When I got to the middle, it was something of a relief to find that Brassy had been dismissed from the last ball of the over. Sadiq Mohammed, our Pakistani Test star had opened the innings and was still there on a battling 81. He gave me a welcoming nod and settled down to face the last over before lunch.
The bowler was the powerfully built West Indian, Gregory Armstrong and I remember thinking during the course of that over, ‘This bloke is bloody rapid’. During the previous winter, some remedial work had been done on the square at Sophia Gardens which involved the laying of a drain. Unfortunately, it had left a line, about a foot wide, across the mid-point of the entire square. Whenever the ball landed on the line, the bounce had been unpredictable. The fifth ball of the over hit the line and reared up at Sadiq, who managed to guide it down to third man from in front of his face. As the ball flew down to the fielder on the boundary, I started to run. To my surprise, Sadiq hadn’t moved and stood there with his hand raised indicating that he was going to take the last ball before lunch.
I remember feeling quite relieved that I had at least survived till lunch. Armstrong thundered in again. Another short one at the body. Sadiq was in behind it again and the ball rolled out towards square leg. What happened next was the stuff of (bad) dreams. Sadiq was scuttling down the wicket towards me, furiously imploring me to run. Unforgivably, from a standing start, my legs felt suddenly surrounded by treacle and I failed by some distance to beat Len Hill’s direct hit as he swooped in from just behind square and under-armed it in. 
My innings was over before it started. I felt very alone as I trailed off the field back to the pavilion. Ironically, I was not alone as all the other players were walking off for lunch, including Sadiq, who left the field before me, without speaking to me. It had been a tough start but a reminder of the difference in the thinking of a Test match opening batsman playing on a dodgy wicket whose only consideration was to face the next ball and a complete novice who was happy to have survived till lunch. Lots of lessons there for I.C. Crawford, run out 0. I can smile now but I can tell you that lunch didn’t go down too well that day.
Can’t say that things got much better in the second innings. I did manage to get off the mark but soon afterwards became the latest member of the ‘lbw b Nash’ club. At least I was in good company there! I can see the ball now... on its way towards me… full length… shuffle forward... oops, swung a bit… and Ken Palmer’s finger went up.
Despite everything, Sophia Gardens, May 7th, 8th and 9th, 1975 is a great memory for me, the fulfilment of a dream. And it wasn’t a total disaster as I took a wicket, somehow getting Arthur Francis to edge one to Roger Knight at slip. And in the second innings, I returned the compliment, catching Majid Khan for just 2 off Knighty’s bowling.  
Memory added on February 10, 2021
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