At the end of last season Ailsa had suffered an ACL injury and had to give up not just cricket, but all forms of exercise to recover, she had found it hard but after working tirelessly on her recovery during the off season, she was back training.

On the first day back she arrived with a fire in her belly, ready to prove herself and earn her place back.

Though she pushed herself hard, and tried her best, it was clear she wasn’t the same. Her body had changed and her fitness had dropped and if she carried on pushing herself she was heading for another injury.

As the session ended, Ailsa groaned and muttered under her breath in frustration.

“Ailsa, what’s wrong?”

You ask softly, making sure no one else was around. She was hunched over with her hands on her thighs catching her breath.

“I just. . . . I can’t do it.”

She sighed softly, looking up at you with sadness and worry in her eyes. Her gentle Scottish lilt slipping into her tone.