Andrew Collomosse joined Andy Fogarty and his team during the first day of the 4th npower Ashes Test at Headingley Carnegie.

Andrew Collomosse joined Andy Fogarty and his team during the first day of the 4th npower Ashes Test at Headingley Carnegie.

Article reproduced by kind permission of Wisden Cricketer Monthly magazine.

To chart a day in the life of a groundsman, sports journalist Andrew Collomosse, whose book on the all-conquering Yorkshire side of the Sixties will be published by Great Northern Books next year, joined Andy Fogarty and his Headingley team as they battled the elements, the television crews and the captains on the first day of the fourth Ashes Test.

On August 6, eve of the fourth Ashes Test at Headingley Carnegie, Andy Fogarty, Yorkshire's head groundsman, opts for an early night. At 9.45pm he is tucked up in bed at home in Weetwood, three miles from the Carnegie Stadium.

An hour later Fogarty is woken by the patter of raindrops on his bedroom window. He listens intently. The rhythm of the rain grows more insistent. Fogarty decides it is "time to go and have a look". He arrives at Headingley just before midnight; he will not leave for another 20 hours.

"It was absolutely hammering down," he recalls. "There was a load of water standing on the sheets covering the square and parts of the outfield. So I hopped on board one of the blotters and got to work."

Twenty miles away in Mirfield, Christian Dunkerley and Gareth Millthorpe, Fogarty's assistants, hear the rain, too. Gentle at first, increasing in intensity.

Gareth is ready to go when the call comes from Chris. Five minutes later they are on their way and on site by 2am. Headingley Carnegie's longest day has begun.

6.00am
Sam, Joe, Andy, Matt, James and Jamie, student volunteers who have been learning the ropes since Tuesday morning, report for duty. With light drizzle falling, the sound of the two blotters droning across the outfield accompanies them on their walk to the groundstaff's cabin beneath the television commentary box at the Kirkstall Lane End.

They are followed 20 minutes later by the man from The Wisden Cricketer, delayed because Car Park F is locked and the whereabouts of the key is unknown. "Sorry I'm late, Andy, I couldn't..." "No problem. Grab hold of that sheet and pull." Any idea that this might be just a watching brief vanishes.

7.15am
The drizzle has stopped and under the brooding shadow of an empty and, for once, silent West Stand the last of the giant soggy sheets is hauled from the playing surface, folded and laid behind the boundary boards.

The square is dry and the sections of the outfield that have not been covered provide proof that Yorkshire's new drainage system is in good working order. Only the area at the bottom of the slope in front of the Rugby Stand gives cause for concern.

The blotters go to work again. "Jump on that one, Andrew," says Fogarty. "Chris will show you how to work it." Having given Yorkshire an assurance that I would not operate any mechanical equipment, I reluctantly turn down the offer. Instead Matt, a volunteer, enjoys an easy ride for the next hour or so...much to the chagrin of his colleagues.

7.20am
The wicket, ensconced beneath its protective covers since early the previous evening, is bone dry when the covers are removed. There are damp patches on the net pitches at the side of the square.

Fogarty, joined by two of the volunteers, goes to work, clearing away mud and drying the areas with blankets. Satisfied that repairs are progressing well, he starts the mower and gives the pitch its final shave and a last roll.

In the distance the blotters continue to traverse the outfield, breaking off from time to time to spray the contents on to the track around the ground.

7.35am
"Time for a brew, lads," announces Fogarty.

8.10am
As the stewards and security staff receive their final briefing on the West Stand the groundstaff prepare to put up the practice nets. Poles, nets and pegs all have their place behind the boundary hoardings at the Kirkstall Lane End. Indeed, every single item of equipment has its own place. "If we need to work in a hurry, it's vital we know exactly where everything is," says Fogarty.

Television and radio pundits begin to amble out to the middle to look at the pitch. "How's it going to play, Andy?" Fogarty is giving nowt away. Most of the experts would bat...and would not be too worried about losing the toss.

8.35am
The nets are now up, with wickets in place and crease marked. A pink and white carrier bag, laden with bacon and sausage butties beckons from the corner of the square.

8.50am
For the first time a pale sun peeps through the cloud, a signal for the covers to be pushed from the outfield. A case of Red Bull is taken to the cabin.

9.05am
The first spectators take their seats in the sunshine, blissfully unaware that four hours earlier Headingley Carnegie was awash after a second downpour and any cricket before mid-afternoon regarded as a bonus.

9.15am
England have first use of the nets. Australia practice on the outfield and ask for an extra knock-up net in front of the West Stand.

10.15am
The invasion of the square by television and radio presenters and crews begins prior to the toss, which is clearly going to be delayed. News filters through that England wicketkeeper Matt Prior is doubtful after suffering a back spasm playing football in the warm-up.

10.30am
The players have now vacated the nets, which are rolled up and deposited over the boundary boards. "Take the single stumps into the cabin, Andrew," says Fogarty. "They have a habit of going walk-about if we leave them behind the boards."

10.50am
Headingley is ready. So is Prior, after a late fitness test. England have won the toss and will bat. After a final check around the ground, Fogarty, Chris and Gareth leave their domain and join the team for another brew.

11.00am
The trio watch the first few overs anxiously and then, having observed nothing untoward in the pitch's behaviour, begin to discuss preparations for the Roses Match two weeks hence.

11.35am
Fogarty's son Sam, one of the volunteers, has nodded off. "I might just manage a few minutes' kip myself at lunchtime," muses his dad.

12.00pm
Drinks out in the middle. Chris and Gareth run out to brush and re-mark the creases, a process tehy repeat midway through each session.

12.35pm
Gareth and Joe arrive with lunch boxes: sandwiches, crisps, chocolate bar, fruit and juice.

1.00pm
Lunch. England are 72 fro 6. "Nothing wrong with the pitch," says Chris. "Just bad batting. Simple as that." No one is inclined to disagree.

3.40pm
Tea. Australia 69 for 1. Fogarty learns the match referee has ruled that he can water the pitches for two forthcoming county matches only with the prior agreement of captains Andrew Strauss and Ricky Ponting.

For the first time since 6am he appears rattled. "The last thing the captains will want to hear about right now is watering county pitches. What do people think I'm going to do? Water the Test pitch as well? It's ridiculous. If we can't water those pitches for the next five days, we're knackered."

6.30pm
Close. Australia 196 for 4. As the players start their warm-down, the mobile covers are wheeled out and secured together, the waterproof sheets pinned out across the square. "The forecast's good so we should be OK," says Fogarty, as he turns on the hosepipe and begins to water his county pitches. Another battle won.

7.10pm
Fogarty receives a call from Stewart Regan, Yorkshire's chief executive. The team's efforts have not been in vain. "There's a pint for us in the Sportsman's Bar if we fancy it," he announces.  Try stoppiong us! But they are no longer serving. Nor in the Long Room. Mike Dooley, a Yorkshire official, directs us towards the Taverners Bar, where the sponsors, npower, are holding a media function. Dirty, dishevelled groundstaff are, it seems, below the salt here. "I'll have to veto that," says the npower man in charge. "Where were you at two o'clock this morning?" is a riposte that springs to more than one mind.

7.25pm
A thirsty, disgruntled walk back to the cabin, where Fogarty hands out the 'access all areas' wristbands for Saturday. "Have a bit of a lie-in tomorrow, boys," he says. "See you at 6.30am."

Andrew Collomosse