EYNSHAM vs APPLETON

MAY 15th 2006

Appleton 154 – 8; Eynsham 155 - 7

Eynsham won by 3 wickets.

Scorecard

Forget the Ashes:

Eynsham Sunday XI’s reputation for close finishes is universally acknowledged to be without equal, and this match will go closer to the wire than anything our national heroes can manage. And all this on a dull day and following a stately start by Appleton – who, you will be surprised to hear, win the toss…….

We are fielding a goodish side, with 5 regular League seniors, a good turn-out of regular Sunday men, and not an under-16 in sight. With Gav the King of Swing and Gul the King of Spin, we are equipped for all conditions. The wicket is a bit soft and has a good covering of grass, causing some licking of lips on Gavin’s part. The angle of the breeze is just right, too: rarely have you seen the man more at one with the world.

Nevertheless, success does not come without effort: in Gav’s case, 26 balls of effort. Appleton bat cautiously; the fielding is early-season keen. New boy Bob impresses and gets more cheers than Monty Panesar (and for all the right reasons). Earlier, he causes some raised eyebrows in the dressing-room by producing and consuming a large quantity of cheese, amid speculation that he brings the cheese mainly to offset various other odours that surround the team (not to mention the nearby sewage farm). Now he darts forward from square leg to pick up a low catch, with the sort of nonchalance you don’t normally associate with our Sunday XI, and Gavin has his first wicket. This is a relief after Adam gets no more than a couple of fingers to a skied hit – Andy Mac enquiring as to what type of bird of prey Adam is watching as he circles around, eyes skyward, while the ball descends…….and Sam, bowling with a good head of steam at the other end, has a plumb lbw appeal turned down and then sees a chance parried from Dave H to Gavin to the ground – off a no-ball, to add insult to injury. Sam gets some compensation, though, as he gets in the way of a very firm pull to mid-wicket, and Gav has his second. He nearly gets a third when an edge flies way over Macca’s head; "Can we have some taller slips please?" John enquires.

Micky S and Macca now replace our openers; Micky soon induces the no. 3 to pick out Sam on the mid-wicket fence; the skipper hotly denies accusations of keeping his eyes shut to take the catch. Andy Mac shortens his run-up, though not (as I suspect) to save energy but, he claims, in order to get more swing. Drinks come with the score only 57; we hope the slow start will make the batsmen start to act rashly. Instead, there is a bit of a run flurry, but Macca, after watching Adam miss another swirling chance, decides to dispense with fielders and yorks the no. 4. Duds then gets third time lucky with a catch off Micky - to the usual furious claims of favouritism from Macca and Gav.
Although the run rate is now climbing – Appleton only hit one 4 before drinks but a fair few after – we have half the side out for about 100. The skipper has limited bowling options, though, and Appleton make merry while Hughes & Gully find their length - in Hughes’ case, about halfway down the pitch. This length eventually confuses one of the batsmen into playing over a delivery that bounces all of 2 inches. The skipper now sends Gully back to graze on the boundary and calls up Duds, desperate to impress after a mixed fielding display. The change is inspired as Duds picks up a wicket in each of his 2 overs – one courtesy of a catch by Micky (I think in the covers, but I am miles away at fine leg so my view is limited………..) - and Appleton have to settle for 154. Tea is taken – rather quietly, for the most part, until Skipper starts to allocate places in the batting order. All is well until he casually mentions to Adam that he (Adam) is opening. Duds, through a mouthful of carrot-like cake, tries to demur (hard to do with a mouth full), mainly on the grounds that he already eats 3 slices of cake and is in the middle of his fourth, but there are no other volunteers. The only other noteworthy incident during tea is a loud cry for more cheese sandwiches, presumably from Bob.

So into the grey late afternoon stride Duds and Gully, one of the many to show off a new bat this year. Earlier, when Gavin brandishes his new weapon, a certain – nameless – wag enquires: "Are you turning yourself into a batsman, then, Gav?" "I own a bat" retorts Gavin fiercely, "That doesn’t make me a batsman. Just like I own a bicycle but it doesn’t make me a cyclist." John (for he is the nameless wag) looks suitably abashed.

For a few overs, all is calm. We are a bit surprised to see Gully exercize restraint – perhaps he is turning into a batsman. For a few overs, wides run neck-and-neck with the batsmen’s scores. But Adam announces his intentions with an early 6, and the opening attack is seen off comfortably. As in Appleton’s knock, though, it proves beyond our heroes to force the ball through the lush grasslands to the boundary, and Duds’ 6 is the only boundary of the stand.

Gully eventually falls to the change bowler, but we are near 50 and quite content. John immediately shows how easy it is to defeat the outfield with a perfect drive for 4. Although he is out straight after (the usual tale – freakish bounce, ball edging off a part of the bat he didn’t know he had), he is surprisingly unmoved. "In over 30 years’ batting" he declares, "only about half-a-dozen shots really stick in the memory – and that four was one of them." No-one else apart from Duds is to score a 4, so it certainly stands out for rarity value……….

Frank now joins Adam, and a very decent stand they have, too. There is a lot of sharp running, what with the absence of boundaries, and some of the action is definitely not for the faint-hearted. Adam twice makes his ground by the length of a kitten’s whisker, and all Appleton – especially spectators behind the square-leg umpire, some 60 yards away - are howling with disbelief when the second – and closer – decision goes Adam’s way. (Only their ‘keeper confirms to me – privately – that the decision is sound). With the run-rate always a concern, however, a mistake is bound to occur, and after putting on over 60 Frank is finally the victim of an over-ambitious call. By now, though, we are only 35 runs away from victory with 7 wickets, and 7 overs, to spare – by our standards, comfortably off.

But when things go wrong…………..Adam, after a final flurry of fours and a glorious six, is magnificently caught, Andy Mac finds that trying to scoop the ball out of the sludgy wicket is no easy matter and soon gives up, and new boy Bob is out second ball – 4 men out for 8 and, more critically, 4 overs used up. "Send for Harris" we all urge, and he duly joins Sam in our last-chance-saloon chase. With all fielders out deep, and changing by the ball, we wonder if the pubs will still be open by the time we finish……but Dave runs like a man possessed, the fielders bicker, and we think maybe we can just do it. 7 runs come off the first 4 balls of the last-but-one over, and then…….tragedy! Sam falls to another splendid catch - 7 balls to go, 7 to win. Dave cannot get the last ball away for the desired single, and it is Gavin, promoted to no. 9 for his biffing potential, to face the last over.

The first ball unaccountably remains unbiffed, as does the second, to howls of anguish from the umbrella-chewing Eynsham spectators. Off the third ball, however, Gav scrambles a single, and, clearly not wanting to draw out the suspense any further, Mr. Harris, pounces on thee next, fuller, ball with low backlift but incredibly high bat-speed and sends it skywards – it is still climbing as it sails over the rope – for a shot that should count at least 12. Luckily we only need 6, and, after gazing mournfully in the direction of the winning hit for what seems an age, the Appleton team congratulate him on the shot and us on our perfectly-timed victory. Afterwards, in the garden of the Plough, the Appleton team are being subjected to more fines than you would see in a week at a magistrate’s. Meanwhile we bask in Dave’s reflected glory, and for once do not have to think about the "might-have-beens" of as tight a game as any schoolboy fiction can record. You couldn’t make this sort of stuff up!

M Hughes