29th August 2004 vs The President's XI

President's XI 147 all out. Eynsham All Stars XI 145 all out. President's XI won by 2 runs.

Scorecard

Strictly speaking, this is not a “Sunday” game; but it does take place on a Sunday, between an X1 selected by the Club President and an Eynsham “All-Stars’” X1. The match is played in front of a sizeable crowd, drawn in by the Jones Beer Festival and sundry other entertainments put on by the gallant Jackie & Cath.

Murray is the Eynsham skipper. Not wishing to dent a proud Sunday record, he loses the toss, and we field first. The President’s side looks to have depth in batting, with, at 3 and 4, a couple of Men With Reputations (that is to say, we don’t see them playing for any Eynsham side previously this season), and the Maccas, Blackers, Whitters & Crompers all ahead of the Prezza himself at no.10. Laney expresses confidence that he will not be called on at no. 11, and, indeed, still wears his holiday t-shirt (“It rains a Lot in the Lot”) as we take the field. And his confidence is borne out as Phil and John commence a solid partnership in between showers (Phil – “this rain suits us, as we can’t bat for more than 10 overs without needing a rest”). But their runs are hard-earned. John takes 6 overs to get off the mark, defending balls as if he is trowelling out weeds around a delicate plant. Phil, more assertive from the start, starts off with a couple of crisp cuts.

I have to say here that our side is slightly handicapped: It Has Been Decreed that there will be Fines (to help make up the Club’s deficit, I assume): these will be imposed if any of the team fails to address a colleague in formal Christian-name terms, No “Bowling, Gavo” or “Good arm, Gully” – it has to be “Oh, I say, well fielded, James”, or “Super stop, Samuel”. I am certain this affects some of our out-cricket, though Bernie & Sam are determined not to let it hinder their efforts, and as a result are pretty much declared bankrupt by the second rain break. Sam’s record of byes conceded is a fraction of the number of inappropriate names he calls, and Bernie…….well he even gees himself up with a “C’mon , Berns” ( a double fine this, I fancy, especially when he follows it with “That’s like committing Hara-Kiri” when of course, as some bright spark points out, it should be “Harold-Kiri”.)

While we are thus distracting ourselves, John comes out of his shell and plays a couple of his trademark shots – the cover-drive and the lofted backward flick. Both go for 4. He then unleashes a new shot which he must be practising at home this last fortnight, a skimmed drive past mid-on; this also crosses the line. Apart from these occasional flashes of aggression, though, the bowling is tight – only 37 come off the first 12 overs, with Gavin changing pace at will (the faster he runs in, the slower the ball – you think – and then he proves you wrong). He is a model - of accuracy, I hasten to add – conceding only 14 runs. This is all the more creditable as it is achieved with quite an attacking field, including what one senior player (who really ought to know better) describes to me as “The heaviest slip cordon since Milburn & Cowdrey in the 60s”.

Despite the accuracy, our opening attack does not actually penetrate. Bernie & Micky replace them, stay steady, and Micky induces the first clear chance. Els, no doubt worrying what he ought to be calling (will “mine!” incur a fine?) lets it slip. His subsequent misfield next ball has the whole team engaged in Synchronized, Olympic-medal-winning Throwing the Hat (or Cap) on the Ground and Kicking It. Perhaps this relaxes the batsmen, for, next over, Phil plays a loose-ish shot at a good straight delivery from Bernie, and we have broken through – 71 for 1. Phil has 5 boundaries and any amount of twos that either stop in the lush outfield or are chased down by the tigerish All-Stars. (Some of the younger members of the side demonstrate the modern “slide”, though, personally, I think my physique is not really suited to this technique.)

Micky, encouraged, now gets John to slice to Gavin, and we have both openers. Now for Paul Green, one of the Prezza’s Men with Reputations. “Bowl short to him, Micky”, says Duds, tongue in cheek (I think). Micky, ignoring this advice, softens Paul up with a beamer (non-intentional, you can be sure); bemused by this welcome, Paul pats the next one to Els, who makes no mistake this time. 72 for 3. I ask Micky later if he is at all fazed by Paul’s reputation; “I never ‘eard of ‘im before so it din’t bother me,” replies the bowler. Tighten the screws, we all say, and abandon the Fining.

Murray has a lot of bowlers to get through today (or so he thinks) and so takes Bernie off after his wicket. 3rd and 4th change are Adam and Dave H. Dave bowls 2 maidens – that’s 2 more than the whole side manages against the Caribbean Club – while Duds goes one better, having 2 wicket maidens. The Prezza’s lot are in some disarray – Blackers downs his pint of Mad Dog in one, strides to the wicket, flashes at five balls outside off, and then, for reasons of his own, flashes at a straight one: bails fly. 78 for 4. Murray now spots the psychological moment to bring himself on and lures the steady Patrick into lofting one towards deep mid-wicket. Adam, grazing between overs, spots it, runs, stoops and clutches - like a sparrowhawk picking up a rabbit – and yelps with glee. One for the replays: I mean to ask John if he snaps it on his new Brownie 127 camcorder thingie. 83 for 5. Adam’s 2nd wicket maiden is a thouroughly hostile affair which Pete W has the dubious honour of defending – he does so stoutly for 4 balls before one aimed sharply at the toe does for him – 83 for 6! Daisy is holding up one end very tidily, but the President’s X1 have lost a remarkable 6 wickets for only 12 runs, using up 8 overs in the process, and look in danger of having to apply for an Early Tea. However, the batting is not yet finished, and Andy Mac (who opens for us against the Caribbeans) is the man we have to knock over next.

The skipper’s bowling rota (3 overs per person unless your intitals are MS) now moves on to Hughes. Macca, regrettably for the All-Stars but fortunately for the spectators (& the President) takes a shine to the slower stuff and, frankly, never lets the bowler settle. 2 huge leg-side sixes are struck, to wild acclaim (it is a fair time since the Prezza’s team has much to cheer). He adds a boundary and is almost certain to add a 3rd six but for Els, who parries the ball to the ground just in front of the line. The batsmen, assuming the ball is over, stand admiring the shot, and Els hastily whips the ball in before a run can be taken – a rare dot ball now. In the same over, Daisy edges one between keeper and wide slip, each leaving it to the other (pillars of salt have been more mobile). Daisy relishes the let-off & swipes a couple of leg-side fours, and the Prezza’s lot are getting back on track. Indeed, if Murray does not bowl Macca with a cunningly-disguised faster one, they are going to post a sizeable total. As it is, they are 120 for 7 with 6 overs to go.

Geoff C. comes in; Murray wheels away from the far end. This is tense stuff, the batsmen trying to push on, Daisy well set now, but Murray mean & miserly, even getting a maiden in his last-but-one over. At the other end, runs are leaked, Els faring no better than Hughes. We need someone to put their finger in the dyke pdq. Daisy & Geoff put on 21. The running is stately: there are no risky singles. Then the skipper breaks through, bowling Geoff – 141 for 8. This event brings the President himself to the crease: the target of 150 must be on his mind. He picks up a two. Murray now throws the ball to Tim. “Is this wise?” one or two of us ask ourselves, Sergeant Wilson-style. With his first, gently flighted, ball, Daisy is deceived into a wild shot, and the bails descend. 145 for 9. Laney smites to leg for a single, Tim flights one a bit higher, draws the President down the pitch, and Stumper Sam does the rest. Tim is mobbed; we dismiss them for 147. A fair but very gettable total, we reflect.

Cricket, unlike life, is a very orderly affair, not taken in snatches, not a long continuation of unfinished business. It has a definite beginning, middle and end. Whatever carnage is being wrought on the field, you know there will be Tea in the middle. And so it proves. On this occasion I believe the President and partner are responsible, and very respectable it all is too. We have to share the tea-room with assorted Beer Festival attendees, who are not slow in giving their opinions on the state of the match and the quality of the players. (None of these opinions, it goes without saying, are suitable for a family website.)

And so to the Eynsham All-Stars’ innings. Tim and Els are the obvious choices to open, Laney the obvious choice to bowl the first over. Geoff C. is the less obvious choice as 2nd opening bowler, but the two combine well, keeping runs to ones and twos until the 8th over, when Tim lashes the first boundary. Patrick is treated a little less respectfully, after an initial maiden – Tim again with a six and a four. Els also smacks a four – off Macca – but revenge is gained when, after the second half-century opening stand is posted, he grabs a sharp c-and-b chance. 50 for 1. Does this herald a Prezza-style collapse, I ask as Hughes replaces Els (I should say that I mention to Murray at the start that I fancy a bat, and, since I refuse to fulfil the Herculean conditions he prescribes – putting out the boundary markers, getting the scorebox out, and making him another cup of coffee – he retaliates by sending me in at 3.) Thankfully, Tim is striking the ball confidently, reaching a crucial 50 (off 57 balls), and Hughes’ share of a run-a-ball 26 stand is a mere 3, at which point he swishes Daisy’s third ball to Laney at mid-off. The President’s X1’s catching may not be out of the top drawer (“we must drop Tim at least 6 times” says Blackers later, with only slight exaggeration) but Laney is not going to miss this one. 76 for 2, just over half-way there, and more than half the overs to go.

Sam, in good form of course, joins Tim. Between them they look good enough to win without further assistance. The Treasurer has other ideas, however, and Sam is more than startled to find bails whipped off while he is just outside his ground. “It went to Phil’s left hand – he’s not meant to be able to throw with his left!” wails Sam. 93 for 3 – still no cause for alarm, we feel……..but shortly after, Blackers, having replaced Maccers, bowls Tim – the wicket they all wanted – with the last ball of his spell – 105 for 4, the All-Stars looking a bit wobbly. Bernie joins Dave H and they run the only 3 of the game (off John, who bowls a paltry 2 overs), as the All-Stars spectators and fans start chewing the occasional nail. Now the President, denied with the bat, comes on to see if he can make his mark on the game. First, bowling in a style similar to Tim’s, he conjures the only lbw of the game to remove Bernie; then he draws Dave H (not reverse-sweeping, honest) forward; Pete W makes his mark with a quick stumping. Umpires Ron & Greavsy will be demanding performance-related pay at this rate – when, earlier, Gerry’s appeal is not upheld, he asks Greavsy “haven’t I paid you enough yet?” “You en’t paid me anything yet”, is the uncompromising retort.

We still have Adam, who knows what he has to do; Gully adds 3 more with him but tries, extraordinarily, to smack Macca, who returns for a second spell as the President moves in for the kill. Pete W. takes the skied mis-hit. Suddenly we are 121 for 7, only 28 further on since the fall of the 3rd wicket………….Gavin is having no nonsense and smites The President’s last ball a long way for 6. Sixteen added, then Laney – also back for a second spell; Gerry wants to win this, you can’t help feeling – clean bowls Gavin for 9 – 137 for 8. Enter Micky. The minutes and overs tick by. Micky somehow manages to face just 2 balls in a quarter of an hour. Adam hits a defiant four off Macca – the only boundary we score since the opening stand. 7 to win. Micky scampers a single off Laney; Adam plays out the over & gets a single off the last ball. Macca charges in for what must be his last over. Adam drives him for 2 – 3 to win. Then – calamity – he top-edges one. Blackers & Laney career towards each other. Prayers are offered that they will collide (gently, of course). They miss, like oncoming trains in a silent movie when one is switched to another track at the last second. Laney holds the ball aloft. 3 to win, 1 wicket left. Murray, solid & reassuring-looking, makes his stately way to the middle. But the batsmen cross as Duds is caught, and Micky is facing - his second ball. He takes aim, he plays a shot – they start to run – but Blackers, with all the sang-froid of an angler (which pursuit I believe he does follow from time to time) landing the prize catch of the day, pockets the ball and ends the match. The skipper does not face a ball.

So, triumph for the Presidents’ X1; tragedy for the All Stars. But afterwards there are no grumbles, no inquests, just the sound of voices re-living the action (John’s spinners, for example, turn sharper and sharper as the evening goes on; Sam’s run-out gets closer and closer) We leave our heroes laughing and guaffing fine ale beneath the harvest moon.

P.S. In honour of the occasion, and in particular to display one of the finest examples of a score-sheet as you will see (thank-you, Mr. Griffin!), the full sorebook is reproduced.