I am 63 and live in Leeds with my wife. After Yorkshire I worked full time in the paper trade for Wiggins Teape, where I had worked every winter since school even when playing. I became branch director but had to stop in the mid-1990s after getting retinitis pigmentosa, which slowly leads to blindness, and became quite ill with depression. I later joined the Yorkshire committee and getting back into cricket helped my health quite a bit but I have had to retire from that too. I am registered blind and need a guide dog. I give time to the Guide Dogs for the Blind Association and by arranging Chinese banquets, golf days and concerts have raised more than £100,000 for charity.
I have the same retinal condition as Geoff Cope. When I am his age I will arrange Chinese banquets and live in Leeds with my wife. I maybe shouldn’t have a Google Alert set up for “Retinitis Pigmentosa.” All this is too confessional and sympathy-fishy for the internet. I should restrict myself to Korean noodle recipes and flash fiction. (Last night in my dream someone served me sub-par Naengmyeon. I’ve contracted Breadstixxxx disease. This means I simultaneously love and hate my job. That is too reductive; Breadstixxx’s feelings are more complicated than that. I’ve changed all the commas to periods in this heinous weepy blog post. It used to be a breathless intentional run-on, and now it’s a muted/clipped/obnoxious livejournal webdiary.) Someday I will need to retire because of my failing eyesight, just like Geoff Cope. I will sightlessly record avant joke-poetry into a little microphone and post it on the Blastoweb or whatever exists at that point. You should come to the Chinese banquets I will arrange in Leeds in 2044 because they are going to be sick. We will have loads of crazy organic English Ales and microbrews, quintuple IPAs, the whole schmear. Kabbalah Moo Shu. Infinite apologies.