Ladies who lunch

Walking back to my car I am a crazy welter of anger, amusement, and being down right glad I’m me. Quote of the afternoon: “£180? That’s two thirds of a pair of shoes!” What f-ing planet are these women on, for goodness’ sake?

 

OK, let me go back to the beginning. One of the club’s committee members firmly believes that more women should be encouraged to watch cricket. In this, I wholeheartedly support her. However, what she really believes (although I don’t think she even realises it) is that more women like her should watch cricket. So, with the club’s blessing, she organised a ladies’ champagne lunch.

 

When I first saw the advertisement I suffered a bad attack of self- righteousness. I remember Owen laughing at me.

“But it’s so patronising,” I told him. “Trying to bring women into cricket by offering a fashion show and a lunch most people can’t afford.”

And then he looked serious, and accepted my point.

 

I kept my head down, but finally, on Sunday, Committee Woman caught up with me and pinned me down to write about it. At least I managed to turn up after the lunch and the fashion show had finished, but the lady guests were still tottering around on their high heals, showing off their pretty frocks. I was, however, impressed that some of them had left the safety of the function room and were bravely sitting outside, watching the cricket. Until the very practical woman who had organised the fashion show put me right. “They’re not watching the cricket,” she told me “They’re topping up their tans.”

 

I had already upset Committee Woman by telling her I thought the event was patronising and exclusive, but she couldn’t work that out. Nor could she fathom that it might be more productive to arrange for an area of the ground where women who like to come and watch cricket but don’t want to sit alone, could meet and chat. She couldn’t understand that someone might be too shy to sit near someone and strike up a conversation out of the blue. Any more than she could comprehend that the £39 price tag for the lunch was beyond most people’s budget. £39 is about the same amount as someone earning the minimum wage in Britain will take home after a day’s work.

 

But who was I to argue, in the face of 100 women showing up? Some actually were the cricketers’ WAGS – and others clearly wanted to be. None of them had to work on a Tuesday, most of them had Gucci handbags. Some of their friends couldn’t make it because they were at Wimbledon, or were too tired after Ascot. And will any of them turn up to watch an ordinary county cricket game, or join the club as members? Unless they really think they’re going to catch a man, I’d not bet my house on it.

 

So what do I have to do now? Write up an article saying how great it all was, and how wonderful Committee Woman is. Sometimes, I wonder if this job is really worth the candle.