Here are a list of things which have happened (with apologies to David Foster Wallace).
A) Earlier in the season, we were due to play a game against a team.(1) Reputed to be quite good, they asked me to book the ground. I duly paid £228 to Regent’s Park, for the use of their ‘Minor Counties’ pitch.(2)
B) However, a few weeks ago, they pulled out. No biggie, we thought. As our opening game was hugely oversubscribed and we had little trouble getting 22 together for Cambridge tour, let us have a Club Day, and give those poor people who have missed out thus far a guaranteed bat and bowl.
C) The plan was working well, up to a point. With but a few days to go, we had 16, and the possibility for a few more.
D) Regent’s Park were contacted (they didn’t contact us). The pitch was not prepared, they said, due to the wet weather.(3) If we liked, we could play on Astroturf. Balls to that, said we. We have 16 good men and true, some of whom are likely to drop out, so let us source a new game.
E) And with three days to go, source it I did. A pleasant ground in the Chilterns, 45 mins on the Met Line from Baker Street and then a 10 minute taxi drive. A little bit of hassle, but nothing much in the grand scheme of things, surely?
F) Ten of our 16 players duly dropped out. One cited the fact he ‘couldn’t be arsed’. The others didn’t, but may as well have done.(4)
G) We struggled and somehow got ourselves to nine. The opposition had an extra man. We were 10. Game on. We met at Baker Street, which was full of West Ham fans. They were very unpleasant. Our carriage was full of Blackpool fans, who were very friendly. We all decided we wanted Blackpool to win.(5)
H) Subjects of discussion on the Banter Express – i) Isn’t it odd being on a Tube train yet in the countryside? ii) Why do posh public school tw@ts all use Newbery Mjolnirs?(6) iii) How do you pronounce Mjolnir? iv) Jacob Oram was good, wasn’t he?(7)
I) Upon arriving at the ground, we discovered that Oily Morons had forgotten the scorebook and match ball, and C-Pitch had forgotten his kit. Well, he’d remembered his kit right up until the point we’d disembarked from the train. He duly got back in a taxi to the station. We borrowed some keeping kit, a ball, and two fielders from the opposition, and went into the field.
J) Oh yes, the game. Glenn and Bun started like a younger, pacier equivalent of Chris Cairns and Dion Nash, before Boa took over from Bun (in retrospect somewhat harshly hauled out of the attack, we feel) with a passable Geoff Allott impression. He picked up their opener, who had looked frankly far too good for us.(8)
K) And #Boa2013 continued to make inroads, with a tight line and appreciable cut on a slightly tacky wicket. The batsmen were frustrated into some ill-advised hoicks, and wickets did a-tumble. At the other end Mavid Ireland took over and bowled a superb spell which deserved a wicket, beating the batsmen time and again with hooping away-swing.(9)
L) Cometh the hour, cometh a Michelle for C-Pitch. Wobbling it all over the place, rarely overpitching, he cleared up the opposition lower order. Very well done him.
M) Splendid hospitality from our hosts. Mountains upon mountains of tea. Truly, this fixture’s a gem.
N) Welsh Love Dragon and JDM open up. JDM looks silky and sublime through the off side, WLD the same but right-handed. WLD sadly sawn off by the opener who’d looked set to score millions – turned out he bowled some damn good spin as a hobby.(10)
O) Comedy collapse time. JDM makes his 50(11) before Harty bets Bomb that he can get the game done by 6pm(12) – he can’t. Bun comes and goes due to a run out. JDM whacks one to square leg. Lent player from opposition, promoted so he can get a bat, is bowled. AB meanwhile, who hasn’t bowled and came in with fewer than ten needed, is determined to get something from this game: an undiminished average. He plays out a maiden against a child. Humiliating? Perhaps.
P) Glenn finally stops the silliness and hits the winning runs. A couple of beers with our hosts, and then to the pub to watch the Champions League Final. AB had promised Mrs AB he’d be home reasonably early that night, and due to transport difficulties ended up taking a train and two taxis, which cost him £45 in total. His two runs had cost him £22.50 each. In the light of this, perhaps playing out the maiden was sensible.
Q) In summary: the opposition were nice and the ground lovely,(13) many people in our squad are useless at simple, day-to-day activities to the point of possibly needing home care, and a good time was had by all.
ENDNOTES
1. This team will remain nameless, but they were of antipodean extraction. Read into that what you will.
2. It’s hard to know why it’s described thus. For no minor county that I know would dream of playing on such a surface.* It’s barely better than most cabbage patches, you have to bring your own boundary markers, and you pay extra for the dressing rooms.
3. But it’s a Minor Counties pitch! If it’s of a standard good enough to accommodate, say, Buckinghamshire, surely it should have covers, nay, even a Brumbrella, parked by the advertising hoardings? It’s almost as if the phrase ‘Minor Counties’ is in fact a misnomer dreamt up by some f*cking chancer among the Royal Parks ground staff, rather like us declaring ourselves to be ‘Semi-professional’ on the grounds that we play every week and as such can’t be entirely amateur.+
4. Random point: the Viz Profannisaurus lists an alternative phrase for being in ‘the dog house’ when one really upsets one’s partner – the ‘c*nt book’.
5. They didn’t.
6. JDM, soon to be renamed “AB2” on account of the fact he went to Bomb’s school and university, bats left handed and showed a certain lack of composure when in sight of the finishing tape, remained somewhat quiet on this point (n.b. he was briefly taught by him too, but not at cricket, as primarily evidenced by his fielding, which is actually rather good) Later, to the horror of all – especially AB, the debutant unveiled his blade in the dressing room, which was: a Newbery Mjolnir. The fact he had the nerve to walk out and strike 50 with it suggests he wasn’t in the least bit phased by Bomb’s absurd Citizen Smith-style tirade. AB is now mounting a stats campaign to claim a percentage of JDM’s future runs as his own.**
7. There were rather too many Kiwis on the train.
8. With a cutter, which was advised by my good self. The campaign for percentages of wickets to go with AB2’s runs may begin in 2013.
9. Though an anonymous Guestbook entry reads: “What actually happened: after their best player had been dismissed, the captain felt it was safe to bring Mav into the attack. He duly sent down a series of preposterously wide, looping half-volleys which the opposition batsman decided not to flay to the boundary for reasons best known to himself. The benevolent umpire, possibly thinking that the Village were giving a game to a special needs child, similarly declined to wide him (contd).”
10. Unverified but heartfelt reports from both batsman that he had a DOOSRA. Seriously, how many people in the country can bowl that?++
11. Though due to some rather lackadaisical work from the scorers his 54th run received a rapturous round of applause.
12. He is duly caught at slip off a child, which many feel is AB’s fault.*** AB should stress at this point that Steve came up with the wager. His role in this may have been as the devil on his right shoulder, but it’s surely Harty’s misfortune that there was no – for sake of argument – Graham Pontin, shouting ‘VIGILANCE’ on his left.
13. A missive arrives in my inbox from one Villager, asking why we didn’t socialise with them over tea. I respond by saying that’s not really the done thing, for some reason – what one tends to do is socialise over a beer after the game. Answers on a postcard as to whether this is correct. Having sent my reply, other questions spring to mind.+++
FOOTNOTES
* With the possible exception of Cornwall.
+ Actually, that’s quite a good idea.
** On the grounds that he once taught him (evidently not at cricket, as illustrated by the comparative fielding abilities of the two).
++ Certainly not Alex Loudon, braying Cityboy and boyfriend of professional lovelybum Pippa Middleton, who in his early 20s managed to scrape into an England squad by concocting a tall tale surrounding the fact his exchange student at Eton had taught him the delivery. Full marks for effort.
***Though oddly they all seem to find it funny too.
+++ Primarily, what does he want me to do about it? Am I responsible for the culture of the club? I am but a mere pawn, not even a committee member any more, and all further inquiries of a similar nature**** should be addressed to the appropriate authorities.
**** Above all, ‘How do I get to the ground?’ from certain Villagers who find Google Maps a struggle.
