...And the world keeps getting smaller
Jan. 30th, 2009 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceBill Frindall's dead.
He and John Arlott between them were the voice-in-two-aspects of my teenage summers: the prose and the poetry of cricket. I met him one time at The Parks, and he might have stepped straight out of the radio. Damn: I miss him already, and next season will be a hollow thing without him at its core.
He and John Arlott between them were the voice-in-two-aspects of my teenage summers: the prose and the poetry of cricket. I met him one time at The Parks, and he might have stepped straight out of the radio. Damn: I miss him already, and next season will be a hollow thing without him at its core.