Matthew Hoggard

Hoggy: Welcome to My World


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      BILLY: They must be strange if they want to read a book about him. What’s so interesting about him?

      MOLLY: Apparently he’s quite good at some weird game they play. They throw a red ball, someone hits it and they chase it around a field. It goes on for hours.

      BILLY: Well, I chase a ball around a field with him all the time and I’m much better at it than him. This book should be all about me.

      MOLLY: I’m inclined to agree with you, Billy. But like I said, he’s in charge.

      BILLY: He talks a load of rubbish as well. He makes up words of his own that nobody else ever uses, words like ‘ridonculous’.

      MOLLY: Yes, I’ve always wondered what that means. Any ideas?

      BILLY: Haven’t got a clue. Do you think they’re all as odd as him?

      MOLLY: I very much doubt it.

       Introduction

      Go on, admit it, you turned to the photo pages first, didn’t you?

      Before I had the chance to say even a word in my defence, you plunged straight into the middle of the book to check out my dodgy haircuts from when I was younger. Don’t worry, though; everybody does it, me included. Those embarrassing old photos are sometimes the best bit of the book, aren’t they? I tried to get the publishers to let me have a book full of pictures, but they insisted I put a few words in here as well. Sorry about that.

      Anyway, at least you have now made it as far as my first page. I bet there are some buggers who’ll pick up the book in a shop, have a quick look at the dodgy photos, then put the book back down again with no intention whatsoever of buying it. I’m thinking of putting on a disguise one day and spending a few hours hanging out in a bookshop to see how many people do that.

      When we first started talking about writing a book, it was suggested that I should try to give the reader a feel for what it would be like to sit next to me in the England dressing-room. That’s what these books are supposed to do, I was told; to give a flavour of what it is really like to play for your country.

      But I didn’t think that would really be fair, because most people don’t find it a particularly pleasant experience to sit alongside me for the duration of a five-day Test match. I’ve got very smelly kit, for starters. My cricket bag begins a Test match in a pretty disorganised state, with everything just thrown in. And by the end of the fifth day there will be stuff strewn everywhere and it’ll take me an age to find all my kit when it’s time to go home. It’s not a pretty sight, so I think I’ll spare you that experience.

      Actually, one thing about sitting next to me in the dressing-room that may be worth sharing is my vast store of completely useless information. Sitting on the balcony during a Test match, watching our batsmen pile on the runs, the conversation may flag from time to time. And to while away a bit of time, I have been renowned in the England team for nudging whoever is sitting next to me and producing a random fact to start a discussion of some kind.

      Such as: ‘Did you know that peanuts are used in the manufacture of dynamite?’

      ‘Really, Hoggy? How interesting.’

      ‘And did you know that peanuts aren’t actually nuts?’

      ‘Well, I never did.’

      Andrew Strauss has always been especially keen on my little factoids. He says that my ability to produce these pearls of wisdom is evidence of my HIDDEN INTELLIGENCE, however well concealed it might be. But I only know so much rubbish because I’ve got some very good trivia books in the loo at home. How dare he call me intelligent?

      So you might find your self being nudged at various points during the book and being offered a little HogFact or two. Prepare to be amazed. Other than that, this book is a bit of a higgledy-piggledy ramble through my career, with the odd stop off for refuelling along the way (the way a good walk should be). The wife has blagged a chapter or two, because it wouldn’t seem right to tell a tale about my life without a contribution from her. She’s never been known to miss out on the opportunity to put her two penn’orth in before. And also, as a special treat, if he’s a really good boy, our little lad, Ernie, might even get to say a few words.

      Originally, I’d wanted to throw a bit of scandal into the book and tell you about such scrapes as the time the entire England team

and ended up
! But lawyers will be lawyers and the wise men in wigs told me to tone it down a touch.

      If you find you’re getting bored at any point during this book, I’ve scribbled a few puzzles between Chapters Two and Three to give you a break. I’ll understand if you feel the need to recharge the brain cells for a while before diving back into my deep and meaningful writing. And if you’re still struggling after the puzzles, well, you could go away and find someone to tell about a startling new fact that you’ve just learned.

      Failing that, you can always turn back to have a look at those dodgy haircuts, just one more time.

       1 My Family and Other Animals by Matthew ’oggard, aged 8½

      Hello My name is Matthew and I an eight narf years old. I was born on 31st December 1976 in St Mary’s Hospitull and I go to Lowtown Primary School. I live in Pudsey in Yorkshire quite near Leeds and Bradford. They named that teddy bear on Children in Need after Pudsey. I don’t know why. I’m not really into teddy bears myself. I prefer animals and insects.

      When we do show-and-tell at school I like to take in something slimy or stinky. Once I took a slow-worm that I brought back from camping with mum and dad. I showed it to the boys and girls in my class and everybody just went: ‘EEEUUURRGHHHH! IT’s A SNAKE!’ Especially the girls. So I said: ‘No it’s not. Don’t be so daft. It’s only a slow-worm.’

      I’m dead lucky cos we’ve got some fields over our back wall where I can go and look for animals and insects. I love exploring and the fields at the back of our house are brilliant. We call them the blue fields cos some of the soil is blue. It’s summat to do with the chemicals on them. My dad told me what but I’ve forgotten now.

      There are two marker posts in the blue fields and Mum says I’m not allowed to go past them. At the side of the marker posts there is a meadowy bit where there are loads and loads of insects. Over the other side there is a big old gas cylinder and the banana. The banana is a big steep dip where bigger boys ride their bikes.

      Past the banana there is a flat bit where you can see a family of foxes. I like to go and watch the big foxes playing with the baby foxes. The baby foxes are called cubs. Just below the flat bit there is a pond. Sumtimes I find a frog or a toad from the pond and take it home. I run into the kitchen and shout: ‘Mum, Mum, look what I’ve found!’ And she’ll say: ‘That’s very nice, Matthew. But please will you take it out of the kitchen.’

      I’ve brought all sorts of animals home from the blue fields. I’ve brought toads and frogs and voles and fieldmice and worms. But my favourite are devil’s coach-horses. These are little beetles that chomp on worms for their tea. I’ve got lots of them in an old milk churn at home. Dad has taken the top off the milk churn and I put loads of soil and stones in there for my devil’s coach-horses. I give then worms to eat and watch the worms get munched up. It’s great. I think I want to be a vet when I grow up.

      I also like dogs and cats.