A Saturday friendly, no less, and a strong XI - sorry, X – with at least half-a dozen 1st-team regulars, is taking on the East Oxford 1st X – or is it IX? Ollie wins the toss (I think – skippers are always a bit close with this kind of information, especially if, like today, it is hot and we end up fielding first……….) Head & Dave H open our attack. It is soon clear that there is not much in the wicket for the bowlers; indeed, that "not much" pretty quickly turns into "sod all", as expressed by more than one hapless toiler. Despite this, we make a couple of early breakthroughs, Steve L taking a smart catch to get rid of one opener, and Dave H bowling the no. 3 with a classic slanter. Twenty-odd for 2 is a fine start against a side known to bat well, especially as they are definitely a couple of men short.

But our assumption that the batsmen will now dig in, and not make us chase about too much in the midsummer heat, is sadly wide of the mark. The no. 4 in particular hits bad and good balls alike, while the opener benefits from some highly unseasonal generosity on the part of our bowlers and fielders: Sam H goes for 6 an over and Adam has a rather leg-sidey first spell. Only Dave H is steady, and when Nobby replaces him, keeper and fielders conspire to keep him wicketless when he clearly deceives the batsmen enough to deserve 3 or 4. Ollie’s encouragements to the fielders grow the faintest bit tetchy. The batsmen plough on merrily, especially to the short boundary…..the 100 comes up, and a lot more besides.

Generally speaking, there is a more serious approach to this game than you may see on a Sunday, in spite of the missed chances. Head, of course, has a few bon mots up his sleeve, though one or two of us find his remark about East Oxford being on their way to 300 more than a little out of place. For a while, it seems that nothing will break the 3rd wicket stand. Gully is tried for an over: his first ball goes for 6. "Get your notebook out Martin", my neighbour at cover recommends. "This could be a really big over", he adds as the second ball follows the first over long-off. At this point, possibly to protect his eyes from the sun when he watches the next ball follow the last, Gully puts on his sunglasses. This clearly unnerves the batsman, who plays out the rest of the over with an ultra- defensive bat, and even adds "Well bowled, spinner" at the end of the over. "Spinner"! Never has Gully been so complimented.

Still East Oxford plunder, until Ollie recalls Dave H and Duds for the final dozen overs. Duds finally gets the opener, caught by Steve for a mere 116, and then wickets start to tumble. The skipper pouches the first of 3 catches, all at short extra, to send back the new batsman, and Duds gets his yorker on target to castle another. Nobby picks up a consolatory catch (to make up for the ones dropped off his bowling). Finally, Umer marks out his run for the last over, and Ollie obliges with his third catch to dismiss the no. 4 for a fairly brutal 94. So, apart from the little matter of conceding a 150-plus stand in the middle, our boys have performed with some persistence on a pretty hot day. There is an optimistic mood about chasing 237, and tea, prepared by the Willanses, is consumed with gusto. Ollie confides to me that the cakes are not home-made, but it is hard to see when, between shouting at his fielders, memorizing numbers of overs bowled, and taking 3 catches, etc. etc., he is going to find time to measure out flour, sugar, eggs – and the pavilion oven is not the most reliable……….

There is a little debate about the batting order. I overhear the 2 most-used bowlers discussing politely which of them will bat the lower of 5 and 6 (if you want to know who wins, look at the scorecard!). Meanwhile, Steve and Nobby open. The E. Oxford attack commences with one fairly quickish youngster who has a long run-up and a tendency, it soon becomes apparent, to that debiilitating condition known as stitch. There is just time for him to find a bit of the wicket that is deader than the rest of it and scuttle one under Steve’s defence, and then it is shoes off and sunbathing on the boundary for extended periods. Now and again he moans about eating too many chips; I don’t think his colleagues are sympathetic. Nor is Steve.

Nobby and Head settle our post-tea nerves with a rapid 50 stand. Both are pretty good at placing the ball in the gaps, which tend to increase as fielders wander on and off. The bowlers are not particularly threatening, though I notice they have fast arm actions, and every now and then you get a peach. One of these accounts for Head, and another for Nobby. Ollie looks classy from his first ball, which he turns into a full toss and away to the trees. He proceeds serenely (at least it looks serene to me) before half-chipping an intended drive to mid-off. As I pass him I say "Bad luck" (as one does); he retorts, Aussie-style: "Bad luck be blowed" – or words to that effect – "it was a crap shot." Dave H meanwhile fires off a couple of vintage blows but then tries a lazyish swing (his verdict, not mine) to a loose ball down the leg-side, and suddenly we are 86 for 5.
Adam plays himself in. There are 20-odd overs left but we need 150 – it looks a bit of a big ask, as they say, and the sensible thing would be accept defeat graciously and settle for some batting practice. Instead we continue at 5 an over. Gully defends stoutly, runs hard, and finds runs via some controlled edges to the short boundary at third man. When he perishes, Gareth performs just the same role, even down to the same third-man line. Another 6 overs, another 30-odd runs, the 150 up………one or two of us are starting to count over rates and make optimistic noises about the shortage of E. Oxford fielders. Then the stitch-prone quickie comes back and uproots one of Gareth’s stumps, and the reality of our position – 80-odd to get, 9 overs left and only Hughes & Umer to support Duds – starts to sink in. Frankly, if you go into the Eynsham bookies’ and try to put some money on us, they will be sending for the men in white coats.

My view is that Adam can still use some batting practice - and so can Hughes - and it is a perfect evening for it (it is already a quarter to eight, by the way). Adam asks Hughes if he wants to rotate the strike or what – after all, Adam is in for a fair time already and probably a little bit warm by now. Hughes mumbles something about playing each ball on its merits…………..After facing the quickie for a bit, however, he starts to think that rotating the strike for Adam to face him is not a bad idea, at that, and scampers to the other end to inspect a bruise or two.

Up to now, Adam plays a pretty orthodox innings, as usual a bit frustrated when a good shot finds the field, or an attempted swing meets fresh air. Early on he confides to Hughes "I can ‘t get the b****y thing off the square". Hughes am tempted to remind him that he was the one who prepared the wicket, but thinks better of it. Anyway, giving him the strike against the young quickie seems to be a good idea, as he spanks the first four balls for boundaries, as carefree as a boy on a beach. In the next over comes a stride down the wicket and a glorious straight high six. His fifty is well behind him by now, and the 200 is in sight, when Hughes misses a straight one and leaves Umer to see if he can see out the last four overs – or better? 40 are still needed.

Umer denies himself a single to keep Adam on strike. He lashes his favourite cover drive for another boundary, and runs twos when, earlier, singles are preferred. Clearly he thinks the game is winnable. Umer gets the single he deserves; Adam cracks another brace of fours, seeming to get the ball past the field by sheer willpower. Steve, his duck long forgotten, is putting up the score after each ball, a thing not normally seen in any friendly I play in. The boundary talk stops covering the usual gossip and gripes, and each ball is cheered wildly.

Despite all efforts, 18 are needed off the last over. Adam looks a stage beyond exhaustion. What he does not know (as we shall see) is that he only needs 8 for a hundred. Some wag claims he is bound to be counting, but I have to say it would be a hard thing to do in the helter-skelter of the last hour or so…….2 more boundaries and he does it. There is frenzy among the spectators. At first the reason for this is not clear to Adam. The scoreboard shows 10 still to win. Finally the message gets through – at least it gives Duds an excuse to remove the helmet, wring out the bandana and catch his breath.

We do not get the last 10 runs, falling 6 short, but no-one complains; it is one of those games where the chase is almost as satisfying as a victory. And a ton in any Eynsham game is a rarity; a ton scored out of about 160, with a six and 16 fours, is a gem. There is much celebrating in the Queen’s afterwards.