There is a misty tear or two in the eyes of the team as we walk out to inspect the wicket on the old ground for the last Sunday home game of the season – indeed, for the last-ever Sunday game here. There is one notable absentee from the misty-eyed, however – our Skipper, who (so his Dad tells me) is still under the sway of the Sandman, following a particularly arduous Saturday night. About 5 minutes before play is due to begin, he sleep-walks into the changing rooms, grunts a general greeting, and unveils a pair of "whites" that must surely run away with the "Muddiest Strides" Award for 2005, and a 1-day replica shirt with the name "Junior" and the number 16 on the back. We are all too impressed with the shirt to complain about the mud………

John meanwhile is surveying the rest of us and announcing that rarely does he witness a finer mix of talent, youth and experience. "And élan" I add, only to be challenged by one of the more forthright members of our team: "What’s élan mean then?" "Er", I mumble, "Er, it’s a sort of a French word meaning, er, élan". Somehow this explanation seems to satisfy; in any case we are quickly distracted by the bombshell news that Sam has, er, lost the toss (again), and we are fielding (again).

"Fiery" Ben Norton opens with Micky, but Dorchester get off to a bit of a flier, so the Skipper calls on Adam fairly sharpish and sets an aggressive slip field to "encourage" him to bag his 48th, 49th and 50th wicket of the season. The first of these looks like coming any minute, as two scorching snicks just manage to evade the clutches of Els at first slip. Fate is not smiling on Duds, however, and the batsmen stonewall him; as so often happens, the bowler at the other end benefits. Micky’s slower pace invites a lofted drive where Els, musing no doubt on the luck of a close fielder, picks up a stonker of a catch right on the boundary.

Inspired by this, we are all over Dorchester’s batsmen like a litter of puppies (albeit some rather venerable ones), and wickets start to fall steadily. Sam, bowling as quick as he does all season, clean bowls their second opener for what turns out to be their top score of 32; Christian, our Secret Weapon, secures a plumb lbw decision (never a foregone conclusion on a Sunday……….). We contrive somehow to run out the no. 4. "Gilo" Gulliford lures their no. 5 into another lofted drive, and guess who is at long-off again, running in at full pelt to pick up a fine low catch. Another beautifully flighted twirler from Eynsham’s candidate for the second spinning spot on the winter tours clean bowls the no. 7. And Ben gets some recompense for being short-changed in the bowling stakes by holding on to a mis-hit chance off Hughes.

The tail, however, causes a bit of trouble – until Skipper recalls Duds, who (you may recall) is still pining for those elusive last 3 wickets……… well, 2 straight ones quickly account for nos. 9 and 10, and Duds is almost racing back to his mark to castle the unfortunate no. 11, when it is revealed that…………there is no No. 11! Before Duds can try and enlist Mrs. Duds to join the Dorchester Ten as a temporary No. 11, the surviving Dorchester bat is off for his cuppa…..

In all fairness, this is no ordinary cuppa he is after: John W. provides what I hear described as a "tip-top tea" for the Last Tea on the Old Ground. There are scones, jam and Squirty Cream; there is Cheesecake; there are Indian-style nibbles ("from Waitrose", he announces proudly). And of course there is the legendary Parkin, a thing of wonder that he certainly has cause to be proud of. It vanishes faster than one of Hughes’s looseners.

Thus fortified, the tea-provider and our hero of long-off stride out. Another milestone is sought: Els needs a single to reach 500 for the season. We all hope he does not get a shooter, or a nick to the ‘keeper, first ball: the consequences, not least to the fabric of the changing room, are too hideous to contemplate. Happily there is a flicked single first ball, and loud cheers from the boundary. The Dorchester team are a little bewildered by our seeming obsession with figures, though one wag (a long way from Els’ bat, naturally) ventures to ask if this cheer is for his first run of the season. But John is evidently overwhelmed by the event (or possibly by Parkin) as he is soon caught, and "Gamma" Ray follows almost immediately, with only one flowing cover drive to his name. Not a good start.

Luckily, Els is looking good for 600, and now Drury senior joins him; our hopes rise. They raise the 50 without mishap, at 4 an over no less, and we are quietly relaxing by the scorebox and admiring the quality of shot-play – Els strong and clean-hitting, Frank stroking the ball around easily – when both are unexpectedly out. Another rebuild needed. Sam and Ben dig in; but Ben, like Gareth earlier, maybe flattered by a glorious drive for four, gets caught the next ball. Now the bowlers are the ones to feel confident, with half the side gone for 74. Certainly Hughes considers them a yard faster than previously as he struggles to add a dozen with Sam; Gully, too, finds the pace too much. But Sam is well in now, and he and Adam strike 13 off an over – only 50 more to get, 8 overs left. Sam, dancing down the wicket, pulls another 4; the scorer tots up his runs and puts a neat sub-total (21) in brackets – and, oh-so predictably, Sam is immediately dismissed. Two wickets left, 44 to get.

The bowling remains tight: the Dorchester team bowl their 4 best for their full 8 overs, so there are few loose balls, and Duds is instructed to play out for a draw if he can. In this he is superbly supported by Drury junior, who blocks with determination enough to make Trevor Bailey (not to mention his Christian’s Dad, who just happens to be umpiring) purr with pleasure. Indeed, Christian scores his first boundary, to wild acclaim. Over follows over, no chances are offered, Micky (due in at no. 11) starts to relax his grip on his bat as he senses these two will see us through. Finally comes the moment for the last ball to be bowled on this ground in a Sunday game: with a true sense of occasion (I would use the word panache, but someone might ask me what it means), Adam steps down the wicket and drives the ball high over the bowlers’ head, high over the boundary, and into the car park (safely away from his car, I should add) for six. And that, as they say, is that.



M Hughes