THE Diary poled up to the cricket at Abbeydale on Tuesday to see England and Sheffield at its best.
Treading the path of generations of Sheffielders who trekked south west to see Yorkshire back in the days when Sheffield was deemed important enough to host the odd County game, The Diary took the bus from town to see Michael Vaughan’s Ashes legends.
No names or numbers mentioned but the bus driver was the rudest The Diary has ever come across anywhere in the country - and that takes some doing.
His scowling face was the picture of grumpiness, he was impatient, surly and unhelpful and clearly hated his job, maybe he’d say he has good reason to.
But he didn’t have a decent word for anybody.
The two blokes who got on before me in town asked for a ticket to the cricket ground and his reply was: ‘What cricket ground?’ as though they were barmy.
Of course not everyone can know where everything is.
But this was a chap in miserable middle age with a broad Sheffield accent whom you’d think might know better, what with him being a bus driver and all.
The Diary also asked him for a ticket to the cricket ground, he having been told its whereabouts by the two gents ahead of me, but he again said: “What cricket ground?” with a snarl.
“The one those two are going to,” said the Diary, risking his wrath.
“I’ve never heard of it,” said he, taking the two quid fare and chuntering under his breath for at least two stops.
To make things worse the three of us got off a stop too soon and had to walk the last bit.
At least we were able to while away the walk discussing the driver’s chances in next year’s Smile Awards.
Do you have experience of rude bus drivers? Write to The Editor at firstname.lastname@example.org or The Star, 1 York Street, Sheffield S1 1PU.