“Until you realise, it’s just a story” Teardrop Explodes, Treason
11/08/13 Graces CC 190 all out HWR Sunday xi 150 ish all out
They say that a deeply traumatic experience can mess with your mind. So I am still not sure whether what I think happened on Sunday really did happen or if it was just a made up memory.
Did Charlton really hit 93 off a decent bowling attack that included a Sri Lankan former 1st class cricketer? Did he really make the transition fromclass clown to seriously talented cricketer in front of my own eyes? I just don’t know, my brain is addled.
I should not really be compiling this match report as my memory cannot be relied on and the scorebook was burnt by the oppo who thought this would help expunge the experience from their minds too, if indeed it actually happened at all. But any thoughts of not writing a report were swiftly put aside because Wickman is currently holidaying in a place called “High Dudgeon”, his intense indignation due to an appalling shortage of match reports.
Not knowing who Wickman is, I am slightly scared in case he turns out to be bigger than me so a match report just has to be written. But I warn you that there is a good chance that some of the report may be true and some may not be true, the boundaries are blurred – it is up to you to figure out fact from fiction :
It was a pleasant mid August Sunday afternoon and the greenparrokeets squawked excitedly as Old Man Smith strode into the ground. Smith was skipper for the day after an extended leave of absence (during which, it has to be said, the Sunday team thrived ) and he wandered around the boundary, surveying his domain. Spotting Mo Farah cantering alongside the fence, Smith waved cheerily to the Olympic Champion.
“Can I have your autograph please?” came the pleading cry
“No I’m sorry” came the reply, “I have to keep focused at the moment, we are down to 9 men and I have to do the boundary flags. Another time perhaps Mo”
We were indeed down to 9 following the decimation of the Wick’s 2nd xi the previous day. Nav had dislocated his shoulder when firing the ball back in to the keeper so was automatically ruled out of Sunday andCharles had badly barked his shin (in fact it was very nearly bleeding apparently) – so naturally Charles also had to step aside. note – Charles has played more games than anyone else this year – so I will not give him further stick.
Fortunately the other Mo came to the rescue and offered his services – his last ever game for the club according to Mr Bal, definitely, full stop, end of story. So we were ten, but Smith was still hoping for Ian Tong to appear because the previous night he had said that he would play unless he managed to “get lucky” on Saturday night . Smith was surethat the combination of Tong’s shoddily stubbled chin and the side effects of one too many DBW cheese and onion baps would be more than enough to deter the most ardent of suitors.
However, Smith soon realised that his confidence was clearly misplaced because Tong failed to appear . Cricket or sex – that age old dilemma.
Rumour has it that Delboy was prepared to play but ruled himself out after he tried just that bit too hard to model himself on his hero, MontyPanesaar.
So , definitely down to ten men.
A tricky conundrum then faced Old Man Smith as Chairman Keith slithered into the clubhouse:
“ I hear you are one short for today Smith, lucky I’m here really” oozed the Chairman
“No, no, we’ve def got eleven, no worries, but thanks anyway Keith”shot back the quick thinking skipper.
Nightmare diverted, Smith then quietly advised Joe Hirsch that we were only ten and enquired if he have any mates up for a game? Joe replied that he had no mates, obvs, but did know a bloke who fancied a game but who had never played before. So full quota achieved, we set about the game with gusto.
Having lost the toss, we found ourselves in the field, bowling on a good track that offered a wee bit to skilled bowlers early on. Fortunately we had two such skilled bowlers in Jack Smith and Jack Le Feuvre who plucked out the openers without fuss. Graces xi then sent in their two star players, both Sri Lankans, who played beautifully and built up a tidy partnership.
Mohit was then summoned with specific instructions to confuse the hell out of the batsmen, which he proceeded to do by issuing forth a wide array, ranging from head high beamers, pure filth and the odd snorterand it was one of the latter that proved too good for the star bat whose head was in a whirl by this stage.
Mention should be made at this stage of Joe’s mate, Jack Haldenby,who, in borrowed kit, looked the part in truly his 1st ever game of cricket. His left boot was his preferred method of halting the ball’s progress, and what a boot it turned out to be, as he stopped almost everything that was smashed at him. In fact the only time he missed the ball was when he used his hands rather than his feet. Heroic stuff from the debutant.
Old Man Smith decided to trundle in and chuck a few down. Despite favouring leg side a tad, Smith managed to castle the Graces number 5 and promptly took himself off to protect his figures . So, with 4 down on a good track, the skipper decided it would be a good idea to send for spin in order to open up the game and allow the Graces to set a decent target. Charlton and Taylor supplied the spin and a steady mixture of boundaries and wickets ended in a total of 190 being posted.
The skipper was quietly pleased with himself for allowing a reasonable target to be set so as to ensure a healthy contest. The skipper wasperhaps not quite so pleased with himself after tea as he strode in to bat at no 6 with only 9 runs on the board.
Had we really lost 4 out of our top 5 for just 9 runs? Did Madoc-Jones the very eldest really get beaned by a bouncer from the Sri Lankan opening bowler? Was our tail really so long that Old Man Smith came in at 6? Is Wickman really bigger than me?
Scene set for Charlton to make a name for himself, a time to mature, a time to emerge from the Chedward pupal stage, a time to take himself seriously.
Damage repair began with Charlton and Old Man Smith building a solid but turgid partnership of 40, and it has to be said helped by the Graces skipper reciprocating the opening up the game business. Old Man Smith’s demise, which in truth looked on the cards from ball one, saw Stan Kearney arrive and nurdle a few before politely departing to allow Smith junior to join in a 50 partnership with Charlton who had by now began to biff and wallop in all directions with gay abandon. The rest is still a blur, but indelibly etched on my brain are the following batsmenscores, in order (no names no pack drill):
0
4
1
93
0
9
6
6
0
1 not out
2
Throughout this traumatic experience, the game was played in the perfect spirit. The Graces xi lived up to their name ( no, they weren’t all bearded Victorians , they were full of grace) and both sides strove to perform whilst maintaining decorum. More than one batsmen walked before being given out which is how it must be to ensure the survival of friendly Sunday cricket (mind you I was clean bowled so s’pose I had to walk).
A loss was chalked up, but was it really a loss? Didn’t all who witnessed the events, or thought that they had witnessed the events, actually gain from the experience? I certainly benefitted from seeing Charles, who was watching events unfold from the balcony, his grazed shin still on the verge of bleeding, cry into his beer as his bestest chum finally stumbled on his ascent to greatness, just 7 runs short of the summit.
Only 5 Sunday games lefts, lads. Come on, you can’t keep missing these life enhancing dramas. Sign up, sign up and get in the game.
Ps Mohit – Hopefully we’ll see you next week for your next last evergame for the club.
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