Two old blokes, Dave and Pete, had been friends all of their lives.
When it was clear that Dave was dying, Pete visited him every day.
One day Pete said, "Dave, we’ve both loved playing cricket ever since school. Please do me a favour: when you get to heaven, somehow you must let me know if there's cricket there."
Dave looked up at Pete from his deathbed and said, "Pete, you've been my best mate for many years. If it's at all possible, I'll do this favour for you."
Shortly after that, Dave died.
A few nights later, Pete was awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to him, "Pete...., Pete...."
"Who is it," asked Pete, sitting up suddenly. "Who is it?"
"Pete... it's me, Dave"
"You're not Dave. Dave just died."
"I'm telling you, it's me, Dave," insisted the voice.
"Dave where are you?"
"In heaven," replied Dave. "I have some really good news and a little bad news."
"Tell me the good news first," said Pete.
"The good news," Dave said with joy and enthusiasm, "is that there is cricket in heaven. Better yet, all of our old mates who died before me are here, too. Even better than that, we're all young again. Better still, it's always springtime and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play cricket all we want, and we never get tired. "And we get to play with all the Greats of the past.
"That's fantastic," said Pete "It's beyond my wildest dreams! So what's the bad news?"
"You're opening the batting next Tuesday."