What do prisoners think about all day?

My god, has anyone in the history of humanity been more miserable before going to the Caribbean for six weeks?

I remember listening to Alastair Cook shortly after he'd arrived in Bangladesh ahead of England's two month tour of the country (and India) in 2016.  He had left the bedside of his wife just a couple of days after she had given birth.  I can't find the exact quote but he said something along the lines that "I left the house feeling like the worst person on earth and it was a difficult drive down the motorway.  But then when you meet the lads at the airport you start getting excited about the challenge ahead."

I might have 12,472 Test runs less than him but those words came back to me as I sat in a cab on the way to Auckland airport with my pregnant wife and soon-to-be two year old son disappearing out of view.

I wish I had had some team mates to help make me excited.  My fear of flying reduced markedly when I was zipping around Europe and a sense of normality certainly helps.  There's not much more normal than spending time with work mates.  Instead I faced nearly 48 hours of transit across three countries and one date line completely alone.

Two days is a long time to spend on your own.  For sure there are distractions.  Plane taking off, plane coming down, check in, departures, arrivals, passport control, passenger flight cards, clouds out the window, Seinfeld on the iPad, a glass of wine here, a tablet of valium there.  But in and around that there is a lot of time spent thinking about life.

I went through it all on the longest January 10th I will ever experience.  Up early to look after my son, to the park in the morning, the beach in the afternoon, then an early dinner and a cab to the airport.  A 11pm take off, a 12 hour flight, land at LAX and there's still eleven hours of January 10th to go.  Two of which I spent in a queue just trying to leave the airport.

January 11th wasn't much better.  Alarm at 4.30am (which was in fact 1.30am for my NZ body clock) and a four and a half hour flight before I should have even been awake.  Another three hours in Miami (where I decided I'd had enough air conditioned air) before jumping on my third flight another three hours to go until my destination.

There were so many grim aspects.  The leaving, the stress of flying, the lack of comfortable sleep, the early start, the horrible food, the crap conversations going on around me, the impact on my nervous system and that last interminable hour on board flight AA2393.

I arrived after my colleagues had gone to bed.  The next day boy did I chew their ears off.  Couldn't shut up.

Life impact - an intro

Today I went to the park with my wife and son to celebrate the birthday I will miss in a couple of weeks.  It's Franklin's 2nd birthday on 21st Jan.  Knowing the cricket schedule for the next two years I will also miss his 3rd, possibly his 4th and who knows what I will be doing for the Ashes the year after that.  You don't need to be a parent to know this sucks. 

My wedding anniversary is the 18th Jan. 

Hmmmm.

Reminds me of the last time I toured the West Indies when I missed our anniversary and my wif'e's birthday.  She got me back.

Has it really been ten years since I last covered a West Indies tour?  That catalogue of woe was well documented.  A snapped achilles, a missed plane, being forced to cough up $1400 for a flight I'd already paid for, a cancelled Test match, a golf buggy incident only to come home to the kitchen covered in soot.

The sacrifices we make in the pursuit of a career, the mental anguish of being away from the family, the memories of a tour gone by, the angst ahead of a long journey.  All to be expanded upon. 

Auckland angst

Watching the last few minutes of the Manchester City v Liverpool match reminded me of a unwelcome parallel with real life.  The last few minutes of this escapism were an edgy affair as City closed out a win that kept their title hopes alive and restricted Liverpool's lead at the top of the table to four points.  

The nerves were evident as players who'd spent much of the night stroking the ball around silkily now started hacking and hoofing at every clearance or sight of the ball.  

Anyone who follows sport knows the last few minutes of a match when your side are clinging on is a stressful time when time slows down and you literally can't sit comfortably.

Today was a bit like that.  All day.  I was alone in my own mind whilst surrounded by family.  A feeling of dread in my stomach.  Unable to sit comfortably or relax.  Clock watching a day that I shouldn't have wanted to end.  

It's a shame because it should have been a really pleasant experience.  Staying in comfortable surrounds with the in laws taking turns to look after the little one.  Football then cricket on the TV, yoga in the afternoon, a swim in the early evening before tea.  

But when has anxiety ever made sense?  Often with a big trip imminent people look at me with a smile and expect me to respond in kind.  I often look at them with narrow eyes with a sigh escaping from my lips that screams "I hate flying, I feel guilty about leaving my family and you know what?  I have come to the conclusion that I don't like change".  Which isn't an ideal position to find myself in when you consider my lifestyle of travel and the uncertain nature of my industry.  Oh, and the fact my wife's family live on the other side of the planet.

Boy has it been a battle not to drink today.