Rampant Raza Ravages Sanderstead

A curious blue glow appeared in the skies above Bushy Park on Saturday, but not enough to dissuade the Sanderstead skipper from bowling first on a damp and very green Wick strip. Matty came back to the dressing room content as he admitted he would have batted anyway - everyone seemed keen for a game.

Coley opened up with AJ, and going was slow early doors. The Sanderstead bowling was very controlled, although by the admission of their skipper afterwards, they might have found more profit if they had bowled slightly straighter.

AJ departed and Davies soon followed, the 2 of them eating up 49 balls for a paltry 5 runs. The shine had been seen off the new ball though and the strip had just began to dry a little making it easier for the other batsman. Raza entered the fray and whilst Cole began to play a good old fashioned openers innings, blunting the new ball attack, Raza began to build his innings. From a precarious 34 for 2, the pair carefully and thoughfully built a superb partnership of 60.

Coley's 44 and return to form was very much enjoyed by his team mates but it was Kamran Razza's 89 ball 84 which stole the day. Unfortunately the rest of the batsman supplied support without much sustenance. A lesson to the rest of us of how to work the ball around when the bowling was tight, and then take the bowling to the provebial cleaners when the line or length errs even slightly. Shot of the day was Raza's trademark flick off his legs for 6 into the pavillion - pure timing.

185 all out, on a damp squib of a track, and the Wick were confident they had a total they could defend.

Tea - ATS

The Sanderstead innings stands in the memory for an incident rather than the quality of the run chase. It is always a shame to remember a game for an incident, but our beloved game is so pot-holed with idiosyncratic laws, that it is inevitable that they will be mis-interpreted by some. I shall return to this subject later on though.

Joe Ewen returned from his break seemingly stronger and a yard quicker than he has been all season. Numerous balls thudded into the keepers gloves long before batsmans' aimless gropes at the ball had deciphered line, length or movement through the air. Ewen and Ford after a few looseners began to hunt as a pair and Fordy cashed in, as both left armers moved the ball prodigiously. In their opening salvo of 16 overs they conceeded a misely 22 runs, with Fordy picking up the wicket of opener Udal.

The Sanderstead number 3, Romans, seemed to have the stomach and the technique for the fight and his battle with Joe was the highlight of the innings. Unfortunately for Sanderstead though the pressure from the tight bowling brought about the suicidal run out of opener Hollands, and Simon 'Johnny Reverse' Bishop required only 4 balls to remove Carter, player on for 0.

As if he hadn't had enough value for his match fees though, Raza then came on to remove the gritty Romans and then uproot the lower order with help from the leg-breaks of Tughral.

And so to the controversy. The Sanderstead No6, Bailey had played a Tugger stock ball out to point. He then touched his bat in the crease, and went to rehearse his stroke further down the wicket. All the while Sayce was still collecting the ball at point, and spotting Bailey on the wander, threw down the stumps. JT duly and correctly gave him out.

Bailey protested his innocence and refused to leave his crease, claiming he had touched his bat back and therefore the ball was dead, and claiming that the Wick players were acting outside the laws of the game. I'm afraid Mr Bailey I am here to tell you (and your supporters who deplorably gave their views to umpire Tilley after the game), that you are wrong - and this is why under Law 23 of cricket - the version which is standardised the world over:

(1a) The ball becomes dead when

(i) it is finally settled in the hands of the wicket-keeper or the bowler.

and

(b) The ball shall be considered to be dead when it is clear to the umpire at the bowler's end that the fielding side and both batsmen at the wicket have ceased to regard it as in play.

Not only was the ball not in the fielders hand when Bailey left his crease, but the fielding side still considered it to be in play.

Spotting a potentially volatile situation however, and with the Wick so comprehensively on top, skipper Davies withdrew the appeal and allowed the batsman to stand his ground. He was out caught Davies bowled Tugrhal 2 overs later, and Sanderstead folded to 67 all out, as Raza bowled last man Azharuddin.

An encouraging win for the Wick, who can take a lot of positives from the way they bowled, and the application shown with the willow. Cole and Raza aside though we still failed to work the singles around, to get ourselves going - an area to work on. A massive positive was the fielding and team spirit, coupled with the way the bowlers hunted in pairs, creating real pressure and forcing mistakes.

MOM - Kam Raza - an easy decision after his brilliant 84 and 5/17 - I couldn't give it to anyone else really.

Champagne moment - Run out of Hollands, with a fantastic diving stop at backward point by Paul Sayce, and relayed throw to the stumps. Created by sustained, controlled swing bowling.



WICK

HWRCC 2xi vs Westfield 2xi - Match Report

HWRCC 2xi vs Westfield Saints (a)

HWRCC won the toss and inserted Westfield

Westfield 64 (Hill four for) HWRCC 65-1 (Gangoldy 37*, Wright 20ish*) HWRCC win by 9 wickets

Fudge*, Wright, Gangoldy, Doddy, Cameron, Clark+, Lofting, Marfleet, Soppitt, Noor, Hill

Wick w ash away Westfield

As soon as the skipper called correctly and Westfield had descended to 3-2, their skipper and best bat back in the hutch, it was clear that we wouldn’t get much cricket out of this game. On the back of a call off last weekend and hardly a game on tour, a few of the boys have forgotten what the game’s about. This one was wrapped up by 4pm – so early that the rather grumpy young lady who assembled the teas wasn’t actually at the ground to lay it out.

Westfield’s ground was sodden and the wicket was, although typical of this summer and something we are all getting used to, not ideal for cricket. John Hill, bowling up the slope and swinging the ball mainly away from the righthander, was simply too good in the conditions. Only some unfortunate fielding in the cordon prevented him from taking a well deserved Michelle after he had rattled the stumps a couple of times and we had seen Del take a simply stunning one handed catch running from mid off to take one behind the bowler.

Lofting, whose own bowling profits from harder, bouncier, tracks, was back to somewhere near his best despite this sludgy mess, tormenting Westfield’s left handed No 4 to distraction. That he assembled six runs was only down to the evil nature of the cordon who let a few between them to prolong his torture. Eventually it was too much for us to bear and Marfleet dived across Fudge to take a brilliant juggling one handed catch in the slips to put him out of his misery. Lofting also took the important wicket of skipper Bailey LBW to give Westfield little chance of posting a competitive score.

Westfield, it seems, have decided to go after funding for women’s cricket, now sporting two young ladies in the xi. This represents a 100 per cent increase on last year which shows something is going in the right direction for them. Both acquitted themselves reasonably well and played straighter that some of their male colleagues. However Billy, having experienced a week on tour with no cricket, was obviously an angry man and, bowling first change, bounced one of them out, the unfortunate recipient nicking it behind for Clark to take a simple catch.

This was not before Doddy had unfortunately obscured a run out from a brilliant stop and gather at point from Jack. Prone, Jack fired the ball in, Clark collected, the bails were removed with a theatrical flourish and the ‘keeper was cavorting and dancing like a Raptor in a nightclub before being informed that the even the Sun had been blotted out by Doddy’s harris. Doddy’s point that the umpire should have moved to get a better view of the action was well made, but the umpire would have needed to move to the 45 to see anything…

Once the partnership of the Westfield ladies was broken there was little left in terms of batting resources. The introduction of Soppitt and Marfleet quickly wrapped up the innings, between them they took 3 for 2 in three overs. Soppitt, in this extraordinary season has recorded another unbelievable analysis of 2-2. He can hardly fail to top the season’s averages on this form. Marfleet’s one over produced a tame prod back to him from a bat who had tried to hoist the majority of the first four balls into the neighbouring county. Some indecision there…

Sadly there’s not much more to record. Hill even managed to pick up a catch off Soppitt and with so few runs to chase, MOM was his. Fudgey and Wrighty opened the batting and for the unfortunate Fudge a duck ensued, bowled by the best ball of Habib’s spell. He was replaced by Gangoldy who was in better fettle than at Hambledon. Once he’d had a look he quickly assembled 37 not out to win the game in the 16th over.

Tea was the league’s best of the season so far. While not up to the almost impossibly high standards set at Hambledon earlier in the week, this was a belter. The usual sandwiches included excellent cheese and pickle, and the chef had used a variety of breads including a French country loaf for pate. A couple of years ago standards here were even higher. Wickman remembers some amazing cream and custard tarty things and sponge cake. Mild disappointment then, but still an excellent effort and the first league 8. If only standards had been so high on the field. The skipper awarded himself TFC for failing to get a hand on a number of slip catches and for playing over a Yorker. This saved the bacon of most of the batsmen who didn’t get a knock owing to the amoeba of an innings form Westfield.

Another 20 points, the most emphatic performance of the season and still top of the league by a comfortable margin going into the weekend off. Gangoldy looks much happier here...

Vive le Wick.

Tour Diary - Match Report vs Hambledon

HWRCC Tour xi vs Hambledon cc (Away)

ATS, Tim, Timmy E, 6 Pack, The Lord, Lodger, Lash, Retired*, Wickman+, Barry, Basil and Norris.

Not surprisingly, given that half the country is underwater, the strip was rather damp. This did not deter skipper Retired who conspired with the oppo’s overseas player and captain for the day to bat.

ATS and, surprisingly, Tim, opened for the Wick, Retired swayed by Tim’s club day performance. Carving a wide one over gully, Tim fleetingly (about three balls) looked the real deal against a 17 year old opening bowler who slanted the ball back into him. In trying to play some form of hop scotch to a Yorker that was missing leg stump, Tim succeeded only in kicking the ball onto the stumps. No solid platform there.

Timmy E strode to the crease but soon strode back to the pavillion, also bowled. Catastrophically for a not particularly strong batting line-up, 6 Pack reached the crease only to find himself unable to move, see the ball or play a stroke. His entire body shut down after three balls owing to an excess of alcohol during the previous three days. He became the first ever Wick batsman to officially retire hurt where the hurt was “drunk”.

The Lord came to the wicket and immediately restored some order to proceedings. Off the mark with an enormous six into a neighbouring field he put the strip into immediate perspective by getting on the front foot to everything and looking largely comfortable against some excellent wicket to wicket bowling. ATS though planted his foot too early and was bowled around his pads, later blaming Wickman lending him Old School skinny pads which prevented him from keeping it out.

There then followed a piece of magic as The Lodger was dismissed first ball on Tour Debut bowled through the gate. Lash strode to the crease with Hambledon on a hat-trick and was extremely lucky indeed not to be given first ball when he padded up to one that came back. The umpire claimed that the wicket was on a slope and he was not sure that the ball would not have missed leg stump, but The Lord rightly suspected that it was not given to protect the umpire from heavy fines for triggering a colleague, giving the opposition a hat-trick and condemning the Wick to something hideous like 30-6… The Lord later confirmed this opinion by fining the umpire concerned anyway.

Captain Retired joined the Lord and there was hope of resurrection. Frankly, The Lord was batting like the deity he is and having already brought out the only Sun we were to see all week, was a fresh cadaver brought before him, Wickman has no doubt that he would have been capable of bringing it back to life. Retired’s batting style is not particularly suited to slow low pitches and sooner rather than later he was back in the Hambledon hutch having chipped one to midwicket having been dropped by Tim, umpiring at square leg.

The Lord and Wickman staged a late innings revival of sorts. Both were horrified to find themselves facing an extremely competent 12 year old Colt rumoured to be on Hampshire’s development books. The fines for a duck in such circumstances could have been staggering. In fact Wickman could count himself lucky not to be LBW to his first and second balls which both pitched outside off stump but went on with the slope. This was real quality bowling from a youngster. In his entire spell he did not stray outside the line of the leg stump and was too nerve shatteringly accurate for Wickman until the latter got off the mark.

With the decline of The Lord, caught at mid on not quite getting to the pitch of one that stopped, a door was opened for Simon Milenko, the 18 year old oppo overseas player, to barge through with a brief spell of rapid Yorkers (bowled off about three paces – Wickman would NOT like to face him off a full run) doing for Barry, Keith (quaaaack) and Norris (quack, quack) in short order, all bowled. The Lord made 37, Wickman 31* but with four ducks and not many other runs around, we could only set them 125 to chase.

Tea was truly excellent. Meringues with fresh cream the highlight. Nothing else could be faulted either. When combined with a pint of local beer it was almost unassailable. 9. There was dangerous talk of awarding a 10 here but this is the highest mark ever awarded to a tea in a match report. And there is no such thing as a 10…

Our fielding performance outclassed the batting performance by a factor of about 2 to 1. But once again it was The Lord that lead it and proved to be the bright spark that ignited Wick passions on the day. It was clear that Milenko was keeping himself back to give other less accomplished players a knock (one particular batsman who should have walked first ball was inserted FAR too high) and that had he come in at his normal position of 1 we might, unless we snared him early, have suffered – but we’ll never know…) but actually for a rather young side these guys displayed some great technique.

Hambledon were almost dismissive of the bowling early on reaching 40 odd without loss. The Lord, at first change, pegged them back by bowling an exemplary off stump line. Almost without fail when one seamed, following the slope of the pitch, it exploded through the defences of the opposition batsmen. And many of them displayed far better technique that we offered. This was top quality seam bowling and resulted in a well deserved four for. Wickman, standing up, was not required to retrieve a SINGLE delivery down the leg side. Not one.

Before then Timmy E delivered some light relief to those that had picked up a duck earlier (Basil, Norris, 6 Pack, Lodger) by palming up a caught and bowled into the air before losing the trajectory of the ball and spilling it. Time for Bonnet de Douche, the special shower cap for wearing by catch spillers. Even the opposition laughed. As Timmy E went around in the field he was like a magnet afterwards. His glee when the ball ballooned into the air to land near a Keith who was never going to get to it was short lived. Galloping across the field like a young gazelle Timmy E was pulled up short by first Keith and then others as it became clear that it wasn’t a chance that was grassed. Otherwise, until Norris spilled a Gary Gitter (that’s rhyming slang for sitter because it’s missing an L and the rhymer is missing an H – complicated but keep up), the fielding and bowling was pretty good.

The Lord and Keith, the oldest in the field by 11 years, leapt around like Salmon heading up the river and reaching a weir. At the other end of the scale, Norris, later to pick up sieve, ran around like a gazelle. There were only a very few misfields and mostly by Retired of all people who did well to avoid the sieve. In fact, had he not moved Norris to mid off, where the eventual catch was spilled, Bonnet de Douche might well have been Retired’s…

Barry was equally impressive with the ball. Bowling with amazing control he continually prised a very good No 3 out of his crease and forced him to use his feet and work singles in a way that doesn’t happen in The Fuller’s. He was imperious. Taking 2 for, one caught behind, another bowled, he was unlucky not to get 3 or even more as Hambledon’s younger batsmen have been taught to wait for the umpire’s decision. Given that Barry himself failed to walk it was poetic justice. The only person to really suffer was Wickman who, if he had spilled either, would have been wearing bonnet de douche as sure as Raptor likes JD and Coke.

The game boiled down to an equation which was always going to go in Hambledon’s favour once we dismissed a misplaced left handed batsman who couldn’t get the ball off the square. A few too many extras in the critical moments, mostly leg side wides and byes (ahem) were costly but there was no point in Wickman standing back because the track was too slow otherwise for him to be more than a back stop.

A creditable performance left us the losers by 2 wickets. Hambledon can be reassured that they have some fantastic colts. The 12 year old bowler was impressive in length and line. The No 3, the final wicket to fall, was frighteningly good. Another 13/14 year old hit some astonishing cover drives from balls fractionally off line from The Lord. An embarrassment of riches.

The pitch was low and slow, the Sun was rarely out and it was hardly a high scoring thriller. But it was cricket. And that's more than most of the boys were to get. Thank you to Hambledon for getting a team out and making it happen. With a pitch on top of a hill they probably had the best drainage of anone we were due to play but nevertheless it shows they are a strong club that they can get a fixture like this off the ground on a damp Tuesday when Monday looked like the end of the World.

Tour Diary - Will we play some cricket?

Day two of tour starts slowly for some. Wickman for one feels like someone has used a trepanning kit to open a big hole in his skull and filled his head with quick set concrete. Others too look like death warmed up. Barry says that sharing with Lively is a nightmare as he might as well be sharing with a vampire. Importantly a look outside at the weather convinces us that there’s a chance of playing that day’s fixture. A convoy is despatched to Hambledon. Despite the original club moving home from its base (where the drafting of the rules of cricket occurred) in the 1960s the fixture still feels important. The convoy starts up. All can hardly believe their luck as Lash leads the convoy through a toll booth, guaranteeing a severe fine later. Hambledon’s club is set in fantastic countryside. On top of a hill, it commands staggering views in most directions. The club house could not immediately yield a roll of loo paper but there are worse crimes. Amazingly the wicket is playable and we are off...

Tour Diary - Monday - It's Scooby Time

Monday People begin arriving at The Wick. It seems a new member, Jack Daniels, is to tour with us introduced by Raptor. Raptor, it is agreed, will be lively. Alison, Timmy E and 6 Pack, all experienced tourists, are late for the first meeting of the Tour. Knowing looks are exchanged. In a touching ceremony, Retired hands out the tour shirts to those present. To protect the innocent and shelter the guilty, from now only tour names will be used. Except for those who have failed to commit to the tour in time to get a shirt. 6 Pack is lucky in this regard. Lodger has brought a Scooby Doo suit with him. It is Wickman’s birthday and as the laughter swells he realises he’s going to be wearing it at some point. Oh dear… Lead by Lash, the tour convoy sets off. 6 Pack is unfit to drive owing to the consumption of too many six packs of Magners the day before. Oh dear. It’s not yet 10.30 and Lively’s fines notebook is filling up like the Thames at Tewkesbury. The M3 is attained with ATS and Retired already lost. Despite living in Southampton for 17 years, Retired is later unable to locate the Hotel despite it being in the High Street, right next to the Bar, part of the old City walls which is probably Southampton’s premier monument. Oh dear… As the lead car reaches Alton – approximately half way to Southampton – the clouds are so low that when the rain comes it falls upwards. And there really is some rain. This is the wet stuff too, not your namby pamby London rain. This is the sort of stuff that could wash the logos off your cricket gear. There’s nothing for it but to find a bar and call the opposition. The opposition, Hamble Aerostructures, are so close to the sea that when they call the emergency services the Coastguard is the quickest to get there. With the rain coming in off the Atlantic it’s no surprise to hear that you could sail a yacht up the middle of the track. Game one is called off. So at 11.30 am the first whip purchased (and therefore official) lager is consumed and tour is underway. Wickman is dressed as Scooby Doo. The evil genius of the plan is revealed as taxis arrive and the afternoon is spent at a Megabowl. 100s of children have their day ruined by seeing what looks like a large Scooby Doo but is actually a 39 year old with costume Camel Toe issues. The truly ridiculous sight of a big yellow dog bowling is only bettered by the realisation that Wickman actually records the highest score of all the tourists to win the bowling. Scooooobydobeeeeeedooooooooo!

At some point round about now Norris, youngest on tour, does his 35th chore for Retired and the Wick flag is controversially turned into a sarong. Retired reminds Tim that he looks like him, although Tim is actually now more accomplished in the pie consumption arena than Retired ever was... It is rumoured that Chef spoke his first words at this point when he and Raptor paid good English money to electrocute themselves. Barry complained about his nickname for the 27th time.

A fines committee is convened despite the lack of cricket. Nothing evades Lively's attention. Timmy E is lucky to escape prat of the day after having tripped himself up in what looked for a moment like a catastrophic accident by bowling a bowling ball into his own back leg. A night on Southampton’s tiles reveals that no one else is on the tiles in Southampton on Monday. Eventually a nightclub that is cheesier than a warehouse full of Stilton is located that will allow a group of men in tour shirts in. It turns out to be Gay night. Pinot is licked by a male admirer – which is nice. Raptor uses the opportunity to rehearse a complicated gymnastics routine using the club’s pole dancing stage. Unfortunately during a particularly spectacular dismount he fly kicks a local female (one of the few there) in the head. The night ends with a rendition of Amore down the phone to late-to-tour Basil at 2.30am and a fine team cover of “You’ve lost that loving feeling” that Alison claims to hear from her bed 300 yards away. There is some debate about which of the sharing individuals Raptor or 6 Pack is in most in need of a lie down. Lively…

Tour Diary - Goldy is Lively

Sunday 2.00pm Club Day is reinstated in a restricted format as the Sun gets his batting helmet on and twenty or so cricket starved Wick men play a two innings “overs” game. Clarky is bowled first ball of the match to much amusement as he misses a Linter slower ball. Big, big sixes are hit. The club house roof is peppered, one of Cranesy’s goes through the roof of the club. Fudgey leathers one at the scorebox which is “still going up”. Matty D hoists one into the carpark and on to the roof of Cranesy’s mini – schoolboy error to park on that side of the car park? Someone else (Fudgey again?) collects the sober and unamused friend of Goldy’s who has parked next to Cranesy. Schoolgirl error… other mighty blows are struck by the usual suspects, Crane, Doddy, Matty etc etc. Even Leggsy gets runs for Hibby’s team. Fudgey’s team fails dismally to assemble a really taxing score in the first innings and trails by approximately 50 runs. A slightly better second innings gives Hibby’s team something to chase and Barrell amongst others gets on with it. They overhaul the total and everyone retires to the bar for some some pre-tour lash. Goldy has been very busy in front and behind the bar it seems. Tour, it is agreed, will be lively.

Tour Diary – The Grinch kills club day

Saturday 9.00pm

The Grinch (Keith) kills club day. Wet weather has put paid to the Colts final in the morning. The prospect of a bouncy castle being used not by excited youngsters, but Cranesy and Fordy, is simply too much for Nipples to bear. What 2s there are remaining following Saturday’s foetus of a fixture are getting lashed and working out whether there will be enough cricket this year to constitute an actual league. The worrying thought occurs that with the weather the way it is, perhaps we’ve played our last games of cricket for the season already. It’s still July… A few souls with liver capacity carry on to Hibby’s gig in Surbiton. Those present suggest that Tour will be lively. All agree.

Tour Day One

Tour starts today. Under leaden skies the boys are due to set out from the Wick at 0930. Game one today is at Hamble Aerostructures. Wickman worries for debutantes and for those with birthdays.

Quelle surprise - 2s washed out as Surrey floods

Once again the rain destroyed any chance of a particularly competitive match. With the water table high after torrential rain on Friday that saw much of Kingston submerged, the merest hint of rain was likely to call time on proceedings.

In the event a deluge just as the warm up had finished almost did for the game right there and then. Oh cruel fates. To feel again the sweat of warm up induced endeavour rather than the perspiration caused by cans at Cannes, to taste and savour the red leicester and onion of a DBW open sandwich rather than the oh so fussy Roquefort so beloved of the Provencale, and later to exchange pints of Morland for the demis of frothy French lager would have been as sweet as any honey had we also despatched Carshalton.

But, once we were able to get a game started at 3.45pm, the rain returned in ever increasing intensity. There was time for Forbesy to bat as classily as he did at Guildford and reach 43 not out. There was time to see MS, Coley, Marfleet and Clarky all attempt to get on with it and perish with a couple of them surprised to be fingered for LBWs they believed were high wide and handsome (but what bat walks for LBW?). And then it came down too hard to have any real prospect of getting a game finished at about 5.30pm just as The Wick needed to push on and set 130 for Carshalton to chase in 26.

Perhaps we could have got a result from the game - but bowling out any side in 26 overs is tough and it would have needed a spectacular collapse. Frankly this championship (five games to go for the twos) could well be decided by which side can get a full game and 20 points in, in between the bouts of weather that seem set to dog cricket lovers this summer. There doesn't seem to have been much cricket played in Div 2 Second xi this week with Guildford, Merrow and Lingfield missing out as Wickman writes, so no major upsets. But August 4th is the Wick's weekend off. What price a burning hot scorcher and 20 points for most of the chasing pack?

This championship, for all the bravado of a recent Wickman correspondent's view, is not all over. The destination of it is definitely in our hands because the Wick has the points on the board and leads the table by 31 points. But there is still plenty of time for a slip up or two. It's up to us to remain unbeaten this season. Let's hope we get five more chances to do just that.

Hibby and the Eskimos (untrained)

Wickman, in between vaccances (holidays - keep up Gentlemen - detention for those that forget in the test next week) and Club Day (this year doubles synchronised swimming with a spectacular Busby Berkeley style finale) has a Saturday night free. Hibby and the Untrained Eskimos are playing at The Berrylands Hotel.

Mrs Wickman has a "thing" for Hibby following a Wick gig a while back so Wickman is immensely distrustful of Hibby in full gig mode. He has a magnetism that Wick men cannot understand. Like a dog whistle that is pitched so high that only Canis Canis can hear it, Hibby calls out to women-folk and inveigles them in a dirty way that is not right.

If, in fact, the mayor of Kingston were to require the removal of all females from the Kingston area he or she could save himself the cost of the Pied Piper of Hamelin and the distinctly unpleasant aftermath where the Kingston area would be devoid of colts after non payment of bills (what would happen to the Wick if the future futures of the club were piped away to a crack in the hills - or even in these less innocent days a hill of crack?) by simply employing Paul to sing for an evening.

A Chinese takeaway safely stowed and a misdirected taxi later, Wickman could not help but arrive at the Berrylands Hotel until the band's first set was all but over. Stopping to sample a drink or two Wickman was stuck behind a pillar and had to gaugue audience reaction by surreptitious scanning of toes a tapping, fingers a clicking and even ladies a moistening. There were otherwise heterosexual looking gentlemen who were openly capering and cavorting in time with the beat that the untrained Eskimos were very professionally laying down.

A break in proceedings allowed Wickmen all to find a safe berth within eyeline of the band and to sample the second set. Opening with I Predict A Riot (ill-judged - most of the audience were there to appreciate the music, not to kick off) the band showed their intent to get Berrylands' finest to shake bits that normally they would only shake in the privacy of the bedroom.

And they succeeded. Numbers from Elvises Costello and... well... Elvis (what was his surname???), the Monkees (Wickman is a Believer) and The Stones amongst many others struck the perfect chord and there were assembled a veritable feast of shout/singalong rock and roll classics that burned up the time and had even Wickman's club foot tapping and him bellowing along to feel good choruses.

But we only felt good because the untrained Eskimos played with some style and even aplomb. They might, until called to give of their best in instrumental highlights (supporting Hibby in a tour de force rendition of Delilah) and songs like La Bamba where the band were to the fore have been slightly more outgoing but then musicianship seems to be where they lay their hat.

For Wickman though the Hibby thing is a good thing. With Mrs W safely stowed away in parts of Provence where only the Frenchies feel truly comfortable, Wickman felt relaxed enough to enjoy the set without having to see Mrs W's eyes glaze over and her limbs tend inexorably towards the twist. If not watched those ladies could twist and twist and twist and suddenly be gone. One happy Mayor perhaps, but a generation of fathers forced to bring up children alone...

Ten bad things about France

1. Lack of cricket

2. Not even trying to like cricket

3. No famous French cricketers

4. Otherwise sensible daughters who say "Daddy, here's some cricket" only to point, grinning, to a green French insect when you have got your hopes up

5. Steak Tartare at beach-side restaurants that gives you Delhi Belly

6. French waiters that reply in English. Yes Wickman knows his French is merde but at least he can afford to eat in your restaurant you turd

7. French waiters who detect your sarcasm and wipe raw chicken on your Steak Tartare

8. Papa - dirty bastard

9. Making horse look attractive in Butcher's shops (Boucherie - you are still learning)

10. Etc

Ten good things about France

1. Weather. No rain. Ever.

2. Cheese. St Marcellin. St Felicien. Epoisses. Vacherin (that could be Swiss... erm)

3. Montrachet

4. Puligny Montrachet

5. Red wine in general

6. Cosmetically enhanced naked breasts on the beach at Cannes

7. Cosmetically enhanced naked breasts on the beach at St Tropez

8. Nicole

9. Agincourt - still makes Wickman feel good

10. The Tour de France - and the fact that Frenchmen don't win any more

Wickman est dans le batiment - Learn French the Wickman way

Bonjour Wick fans. After two gruelling weeks in la belle France Wickman is back and ready to do battle with Carshalton, Club Day and Tour. Well, he would be if, following 13 consecutive days of le soleil brillait et il fait beau, he hadn't returned to weather that resembles cricket weather only in as much as if you were in downtown Dhaka when the Himalayan spring melt hits town.

Anyway. Wickman's French holiday was in the part of France the French call Provence. And we have to call it that too, because there isn't an English translation of Provence. It's not like "singe" and "monkey" or "fromage" and "cheese". No.

Provence has much to recommend it. It's near the Cote d'Azur for one thing. The Cote d'Azur contains important places like Cannes (pronounced Cans - see you are getting it) and St Tropez (pronounced San Tropayyyy - slightly more tricky but you are learning already). In St Tropez and Cannes the women come in one size - zero - and it's good because they eschew the brassiere. Not good if you are Jimmy C and prefer the larger lady, granted, but good if you happen to be a married man that hasn't seen a live pair of cans (their language is so flexible) other than Mrs Wickman's since a work-related trip to the Windmill Club in 2005. Ahem.

Wickman meanders. What he meant to talk about was the shocking lack of cricket and cricket related activities available to the holidaying cricket-o-phile in France. Despite there being Sky 1 on tap there was so much rain in Blighty that Wickman saw no cricket apart from a 20-20 he stumbled upon after a number of bouteilles de rouge one evening. Despite keeping an eye out on the way to Cannes (qv) and St Tropez (qv) it seems the French use nice green open spaces for grazing and other useless passtimes.

What the devil happened to French cricket in France? How dare they let the tradition die? More evolution in that game occured in Wickman's back garden when run scoring was introduced (boundaries only, obviously, who could imagine that you would RUN in French cricket) than seems to have occured on the continent from Wickman's observations.

Anyway Wickman couldn't stay in that cricket repelling country a moment longer. He has abandoned Mrs W and the LBWs to their cricket free villa. There were tears at the airport of course. Local vintners, cheesemakers and Kronenbourg sellers (what are you going to do? They don't sell London Pride in any of the towns along the A8 - Wickman knows, he exhausted the hire car's diesel supplies trying to search out a drop of that English Nectar) all lined up to bid a tearful farewell to the unscheduled positive blip in their sales figures.

So Wickman is back and looking for cricket action. Let's hope the soleil portes son chapeau...

Battersea Ironsides vs HWRCC 1st XI

Battersea Ironsides 1XI v HWRCC 1XI

Battersea 216-7 dec HWRCC 155-8

Battersea winning draw – Micky Mouse

Following in the footsteps of Messrs Vaughan and Collingwood, I shall refer to myself in the 3rd person. At this rate I won’t be in the 1XI job for much longer, so I may as well do so whilst I still can.

Today he got into work at 0805, having completed the Metro Sudoku in record time (before Clapham Junction) and dealt with admin at work. By admin I of course mean Wick – 3 cheques, Forum, and soon enough the inevitable Fudgy emails. He also gets one from Garf informing him that he is too busy, too stressed, and too angry to write a match report. MattyD respects his wishes and agrees to write up the weekends shenanigans himself - Hence this prose. Enjoy.

MattyD is unsure how to approach this. Does he present the facts? Does he be overly positive? Does he be overly negative? Does he resort to comedy to get him out of awkward situations? ….YEAH FACT! For starters 4 of the top 6 cannot play next week - if that’s not funny, what is?

MattyD is listening to Heart FM, and a tune comes on which summarises what he should write. It sets his mood, it makes him smile, it makes him laugh. He taps his toes pretending he has rhythm. He clicks his fingers and imagines himself down the Wick on the dancefloor on a Saturday night, 2330, Fudgy on the decks, Goldy propping up the bar, Delboy and Garf having a dance-off, TommyD with some sort in the corner, Cranesy and LLoydy trying to out drink each other, Joey plotting his next stitch-up, Leggsy speaking in hand gestures and facial expressions, AJ in his flip flops mincing about, Mackie doing the face, Charlie just being plain immature, Muzzy looking glazed, but still managing to eat Emma’s face. This is perfect:-

(I just know your life's gonna change) (Gonna get a little better) (Moving on the darkest day) (I just know your life's gonna change) (Gonna get a little further) (Right up until the feeling fades)

So, is this how it goes, Think you've come this far, And then it'll show, But that aint so, oh no, You don't see where you are, And if you don't wanna look back You'll never know, Cuz you think that you've been here Just treading water Waiting in the wings for the show to begin But I always see you searching And you try that bit harder Getting closer, oh yeah To the life you're imagining

[Chorus:] (I just know your life's gonna change) Maybe not today, maybe not today, But some day soon you'll be alright, (I just know your life's gonna change) Turn the other way, turn the other way, Feels like luck is on your side, (Just wanna live) No worries, no worries, (Don't wanna die) No worries, no worries, Sing for me, sing for me, We all need somebody, (Yeah you can sink) No worries, no worries, (Or you can swim) No worries, no worries, Sing for me, sing for me, We all need somebody

So, baby keep drifiting on Getting there aint just selfless wasted time Seek and find, yeah You're not that far from What you hoped and wished for All along, Cuz you think that you've been there, Just treading water Waiting in the wings for the show to begin But I always see you searching And you try that bit harder Getting closer, oh yeah To the life you're imagining

[Chorus (repeat)] (I just know your life's gonna change) Maybe not today, maybe not today, But some day soon you'll be alright, (I just know your life's gonna change) Turn the other way, turn the other way, Feels like luck is on your side, (Just wanna live) No worries, no worries, (Don't wanna die) No worries, no worries, Sing for me, sing for me, We all need somebody, (Yeah you can sink) No worries, no worries, (Or you can swim) No worries, no worries, Sing for me, sing for me, We all need somebody

I just know your life's gonna change Sing for me, sing for me, We all need somebody...

Lets not piss about here. We were crap on Saturday. Sure, the outfield wouldn’t look out of place in Kosovo, but that doesn’t explain how a team of capable cricketers can give away so many overthrows (I’d count 10) and let through so many balls through their legs (I’d count 20). The bowlers kept to their task manfully on a placid track, but were let down by too many uncommitted and simply lazy fielding attempts. I’m not exempt from this by the way. Joey bowled 17 overs with few bad balls, Shaun was a threat (I underbowled him in hindsight), Zamm looks to be finding some more bite, but he’s not quite there yet. Incidentally he played a trial game for Middlesex on Friday and bowled 8-13-1. Kam lost it after not getting an lbw – not good enough Kam. Get over it. Move on.

216 was 30 too many. However, if some luck had gone our way, we’d have taken a few earlier wickets and given the state of the Battersea #6 downwards, we could have rolled them for 120. Maybe we’re not getting the luck we enjoyed last year. So be it. Get over it.

In response we started confidently and it looked easy, before MattyD played his first loose stroke since the first over, falling and leaving the Wick 50-1 off about 16. Whilst Adam was at the crease it was so easy. Watching him time the pants off the ball (some sublime cover drives, and flicks for 4 off the legs over midwicket were simply ridiculous) was like poetry, until he succumbed to a mix of the pitch and the trigger happy umpire.

As Alison pointed out, everyone who batted scored a boundary, and yet MattyD was the second highest scorer with a paltry 16. Against the seamers it was piss easy, and as soon as the dibbly-dobblers came on everyone started getting bowled/trapped in front/caught in the deep. Hmmm….

I don’t want to over-analyse, it wouldn’t help. We all know as individuals we need to raise our game. I’ve said this somewhere before…

The opposition is of a better standard, sure, but the only team who have been on our level that we’ve played against thus far have been Valley End (no bowlers) and Guildford City (rely on a few players).

Lets see if we can turn it around this week. Its not easy.

Who’s going to be the talisman? Who wants it?

Hampton Wick Vs Worplesdon & Burpham - Match Report

Hampton Wick 2nd XI vs. Worplesdon and Burpham 2nd XI

W & B 81 all out (33.3 overs) D Ford 7-17 off 17.3 overs HWRCC 82 -2 (19.5 overs) P Sayce 44 n.o

HWRCC win by 8 wickets – league table

Sayce, Goulborn*, Forbes, Cole, Lofting, High, Ewen, Copland Jnr +, Hill, Ford, Lown

You wait 3 weeks for a game then…

Our usual scribe Wickman is off improving his French this week (“Ou est l’estade de cricket”, “vous jouez au cricket?” “Je m’appelle Wickman” etc etc) so it down to wickman’s cousin to take over. (Who is wickman’s cousin?)

HWRCC turned up at home to find the wick looking glorious. The wicket looked like a wicket, the outfield was lush but firm, there were no ducks swimming by the boundary. The wick were thinking we would actually get a game today having had the previous 2 matches abandoned. There is no worse a feeling than getting a game called off. You spend all week thinking about the match, checking play-cricket, washing your kit, asking your wife for a green card to have a couple of beers after the match, when the heavens open up and decide to ruin your day. The recent rain has not been such a bad thing for the Wick, with record takings behind the bar for Saturdays after the decision is made at 1.30pm that if no cricket shall be had, then drinking all day and night is the next best thing.

On paper, HWRCC were in a funny position on Saturday with the amount of unavailables.. Fudge, Clark, Soppitt, Greenwood, Goodwin, Donnelly, Noor, Mackie all not available. So no skipper, no vice, no experience (Del) yet the side the 2’s put out still contained Ford and Cole from the ones. The side was also fielding young Harry Copland behind the stumps. 13 years old and making your league debut – not bad. Goldy, standing in as skipper (with the help from Fudge using a complex signalling method discussed later) won the toss and put the oppo into bat.

To say they started slowly is an understatement. Their scorer decided to do balls faced in the scorebook. The first 10 overs had gone by and only 4 runs had come off the bat. Ford opened up from one end bowling accurately with John Hill coming in from the other end with some good pace. It was dull – Dick Ewen shouting out he had been to livelier funerals then this game of cricket. As the bats decided that the thing between there hands would not be necessary, more and more balls began to hit the pads full and straight. This got fordy excited, with some menacing appeals. (So loud that my mum said she heard them on the Hampton Court flower show highlights show on BBC2 that evening). However, it was going to be one of those days when LBW’s were going to be as common as Jimmy C with a size zero.

The run rate continued to be slow and the pressure began to build up. Fordy eventually knocked over one of their openers with a cracking Yorker to break the stand. It was good pressure by the wick. It took us 12 overs to get the first wicket but the pressure and fielding remained the same. Out came their number 3 and back went their number 3 two balls later (I think asking for middle stump with bat facing forward was a sure sign). Another wicket fell to John Hill and at drinks they were 53-3.

After drinks, one of their bats, who had begun to get in, started playing some shots. Goldy, with the help of some interesting hand signals from the balcony from Fudgey involving a crutch and a bottle of magners gave the signal to bring on Coley for Lown. (At least we think that is what he meant). This seemed to do the job as the change in pace and extra flight bamboozled their good bat and he ended up playing on. From the other end, Fordy was in an angry mood. Getting no luck with LBW’s and the batsman not using the bats, Fordy began to clean up. He changed his angle to around the wicket and it paid dividends. From 68-3, Worplesdon were soon bowled out for 81 (they only had 10 bats but as their number 8 told us “don’t worry, he isn’t coming as his car broke down and anyway, he isn’t very good”). Fordy finished with figures of 17.3 overs, 8 maidens, 17 runs, 7 wickets – all bowled. 5 of these runs were from hitting the helmet. All 9 wickets that day were bowled.

Wick looked very good in the field. Pressure was on the bat from the start from everyone. Harry Copland, playing in his first league game for the Wick, had an excellent day. He was very tidy to the quickies and sharp as Delboy’s tongue after a few cocktails when standing up to Coley. It was actually a bit scary some of the stumping attempts he tried. This boy is Wick.

So we headed in after 2 hours in the sun for a DBW tea. 6.5/10. However, as we sat down to eat, the oppo skipper informed us that we should be going back out due to the time. Now I know rules are rules etc, but when you have had monsoon rain for the last 3 weeks, the one thing I would want to do is make my time in the sun last as long as possible. But this was not to be. So out trundled Sayce and Goldy (with sandwich in pocket) to get on with knocking off the runs. Both started well, with some good looking shots benefiting from some below average fielding, including running a single, then running another 4 overthrows as no one fielding realised the ball had been hurled to the boundary but not hard enough. Goldy then was unlucky to be bowled round his legs followed by Cole, who seemed to get the ball to hit bat and both legs before bowling him. Sayce was then joined by Forbes, who like Sayce began to play some lovely looking shots to knock over the runs. It was left for Dick to signal a wide with the scores level to bring home the 20 points for the Wick.

Overall a funny day of cricket. 20 points by 4.40pm, although sounding great, was slightly unsatisfying. Only 4 guys bowled, all the wickets were bowled and 4 guys batted leaving 3 unavoidable TFC’s. Having not played cricket for so long, we were left looking for Hibby to give us something to do. MOM goes to Fordy with a devastating spell which was just too good. Another mention to Harry Copland who performed with great maturity and really is one to watch. The lead at the top is now 32 points thanks to Lingfield beating Merrow (however Merrow still have a game on us).

So there are 7 games left of this season, Fudge, Clark and Soppitt, who up until this game had all played nearly every game this season, are back next week. We are heading towards the “business end” of the season where every game is important. Yes we are top, but we have a weekend off and 3 teams within 20 points of us (if they win their game in hand). Availability is looking great these next few weeks so with a massive push from everyone we can do well in this league. As Wickman would say

“Viva le Wick!”

A Wick Wash Summer

Even by English standards this summer has been a bit of a wet one. Green tops a plenty means a summer of certainty on two fronts for seamers - Long sleeve sweaters and a hat full of wickets. That is assuming play is possible. April was a scorcher, whilst May, as you can see from the picture of Matty D above was a little moist. The general assumption was that the rest of the summer would be fine. Well we're into July and it shows no sign of abbating.

Like most cricket clubs The Wick is no stranger to ducks. In fact so common are they that we've had to start fining members who bring one home with them after a game - May I propose that Jimmy C also be fined for some of the things he's been bringing home. In all seriousness though the duck theme had reached a new level of ridiculousness when some of the committee arrived on Tuesday night to find some new residents swimming around on the outfield.

As we said before we are longing standing supporters of Ducks. In fact it has been proposed by some members that we should approach the RSPB for sponsorship next year - Ok so they are charity but we are doing stirling work in the duck department. Yes it is a ridiculous suggestion but so far this has been the most ridiculous summer on record. The ducks were later joined by a heron.

So who or what is to blame for this weather? Well a few of the boys have been donning their Deer-Stalkers and have come up with the answer. In fact now we think about it the answer has been staring (and grinning) at us all summer. In fact the answer is in a name. We'll give you a clue: Wading bird, five letters.... Heron? Stork? Egret? Stint? Snipe? No it is of course Crane! Adam Crane! But why and how? Well before we give you the answers, here he is pictured gloating at the success of his evil scheme. Being the hero of evil that he is, he's even managed to grow new arms to celebrate his success Churchill style.

So what possessed this unemployed evil genius to effect such a plan? Was it because he couldn't score any runs himself, and was so evil that he brought rains upon the rest of us? Was it because he wanted to spend more time in the bar on Leo Sayers? The latter seemed the most likely to 9 out of 10 cricketing housewives surveyed.

Well here at the Wick blog we have some breaking news. Adam Crane is no evil genius, but in fact a victim of his own attempts to help the club.

After a particularly hot and barren spell in April the Wick outfield was lumpier than school custard. As the story goes Adam stole out in the night to perform a rain dance ritual he learnt deep in the jungles of Notibrus. Naked and smeared in DBW's egg mayonnaise he danced through the night to bring life giving rain to the Wick outfield. He shook Coronas like maracas and had cocktail umbrellas in his hair.

Unfortunately Adam's rain inducing bum jiggle worked so well it was still raining when the boys arrived for the game against Frimley on Saturday. With the game abandoned there was nothing left to do but indulge in a game of boundary boules, followed by a day and night in the bar. Despite a fun time for all though, Adam will be appearing one night soon at the Wick doing his naked sun dance.... Bird watchers looking for ducks with binoculars...you have been warned!!

Legends return to the Wick

Charlie Browning 11 vs Malcolm Robson 12

Another Wick sunset, another great game. Friday June 28 marked a remarkable day in the annals of recent club history. There, in the top deck of the pavilion were no fewer than six former presidents, vice presidents, life presidents and almost all the central characters from every Wick story you’ve ever heard told. The event was the 50/50 game to celebrate the achievement of two tidily assembled half centuries – one by Charlie Browning, the other by Malcolm Robson.

If, as was the fashion elsewhere in the capital on Friday, an extremist (perhaps Mellett of Old Suttonians or Outerbridge of Bermuda – talk us through your World Cup aggregate again) had packed a coffin with gas cylinders, petroleum and a mobile phone detonator (would you get a pay as you go phone? Wickman supposes, unless it was a one way trip it would be a bit stupid to use your monthly bill phone to do the job) and oh so subtlely loaded it onto one of the groundsman’s tractors and drove it flaming into the Wick, they’d have taken out 90 per cent of the Wick’s living post-war history in one go.

In that one room were well on 1500 years of collective Wick cricket knowhow. There was a Blanchard, a Leyshon, a Geddes and a Macarthy to name but a few and quite apart from Wick regulars such as Stephens and Sissen, Lofting and Nicholls. Charlie B and Malcom R themselves of course donned the whites and generously underpinned the bar all evening from all accounts. The scorebook was a veritable who’s who of 40+ cricketing talent. As golden arms were rolled over and instantly recognisable stances deployed again the years seemed to dissolve away.

The cricket was keenly disputed. 30 overs a side were essayed after June showers did their worst again at approximately midday. First Browning’s xi and then Robson’s dealt with the vagaries of this year’s Wick strip, the formers batting on a skiddy track that has become the norm, the latters coping with the drying conditions later.

There were many useful performances. Potter, for Browning, smashed one of Sisso’s more legendary overs for plenty at the end of the innings to set 148 to win before looking attritional with the leather and cork. Stephens, Culham and Macarthy shone in reply with Stephens forced to retire for being too good and reaching a vigorous 30something (more than could be said of many others). Everyone acquitted themselves well – including both Browning – who bowled economically to surprise his colleagues, the spectators and himself – and Robson who played an all round card with some aplomb, there as he was to shepherd his side home with an over to spare.

The bar afterwards was packed to the rafters and as Wickman wandered in and out he heard many conversations that included the words “and then you told that umpire…” or “I seem to recall you smashed it over the picket fence” or “…and he was plumb in front” as old mates caught up, reminisced and promised not to leave it so long next time.

While feeling a certain sense of history Wickman was left to imagine a similar gathering a couple of decades from now. Perhaps the 50th for a current first team player? Or simply in 2013 on the club’s 150th birthday? It’s a real pleasure to see to club’s past mingling with its present, but it’s up to us to make sure that the current crop attains a similarly august status in the club’s annals. Membership has doubled, the results on the pitch are right, tour – and the creation of a new stock of war stories – beckons and there’s a sense of purpose about the old place again.

The future is Wick.

Wickman hasn’t checked, but did anyone pick up FHB on their way out?

Club Day 2007 - July 22 2007 - 11.00am

Put the date above in your diary, tell your loved ones that they are welcome to spectate and come to the Wick for Club Day.

During 1865 just after the 14th pavillion was built for the Wick, the first ever club day was held. As everyone who is familiar with the late Victorian era will tell you, young boys were often dressed as girls by their parents to toughen them up in later life.

Here the 1s help David Bartle Wilson's great great great grandfather to prepare the teas. Sadly the old pavillion did not have gas or electricity, so the boys were forced to run the hard boiled eggs from the local Indian restaurant, The Grumpy Sepoy.

This year, luckily, club day will be a much less torturous affair for the participants. There will be a six a side tournament and any number of fast food / barbecue food options. The six a side tournament starts at 11am. Please tell Fudgey if you are planning to come along because he is organising.

Plan for new Wick club house

Wickman has discovered plans for the new Wick clubhouse planned after the fire which burned the previous Wick down. Would have been useful for this week's fixtures.

Wet

It was seriously wet on Saturday. Almost too wet for flag bowls. Here Matty D was in no way overestimating the dampness of the Wick track by not wearing shoes. You could have white-water-rafted on it. Lownsy used the time to prepare for what was, by all accounts, a cracking evening at the club Hawaiian style. The Leo Sayer may have contributed to some people being ever so slightly more hammered than usual... here's the sort of Leo Sayer you don't want to spend all day on.

For those of you worried about the implications of a complete washout for league cricket, the 2s actually extended their lead slightly over Merrow who didn't even get the four points we picked up for the abandonement. However - it does give them a massive opportunity to close the gap unless they are washed out on August 4th... Game on!