Lessons from local cricket: showing up is the skill

Every Saturday morning, while sensible people sleep in, I'm at a cricket ground with a group of guys who will never play professionally, chasing a ball we probably should have left alone. It's one of the best parts of my week.

You can't talent your way out of not showing up

Our best player isn't the most gifted — he's the one who hasn't missed a practice in two years. Watching him slowly become genuinely good rewired something in me. Consistency isn't a personality trait; it's a decision you make every week, again and again.

Your ego is not your friend at the crease

Nothing humbles you like getting bowled out for a duck in front of your friends. And nothing teaches you faster that one bad innings means nothing. You pad up again next week. I've started treating bad days at work the same way — one innings, not the whole season.

Community is built in overs, not events

The friendships from this league run deep — not because of any single dramatic moment, but because of hundreds of small shared ones. Tea breaks, dropped catches, group chat trash talk. Belonging is a slow sport. You earn it by turning up.