Game 9

The Greasby Roaders v The SCC

Thursday 23rd August 2011

(match report written by James Christensen)

The ‘Friendly.’

With the silverware settled and our summer seemingly over, it was indeed a bonus to be challenged to a ‘friendly’ by SCC. Competition game it wasn’t, but, for all intents and purposes, there was still plenty to play for. For one, there was our joint history; two hard fought games, with one win apiece, meant that this game would decide ultimate bragging rights. For another, our team and individual stats would still be recorded and count in the regional rankings. (At the moment, SCC was placed a little higher than our good selves. Could we reel them in and overtake them?) Finally, whoever wins would secure the psychological edge over the other, ahead of the next competition, and, for two proud teams, that was more than enough incentive to give it everything.

It was clear that SCC were still hurting after their recent loss to Greasby Roaders; to them a game foolishly thrown away, to us a great fight back and thrilling victory. Could this be the reason behind their challenge; to exercise the demons of the last match; a match in which we’d effectively put them out of the competition? Or was it simply that they, like us, just loved playing and wanted more?

The game was certainly played in a wonderful spirit with humour and plenty of good sportsmanship from both teams. Greasby Roaders batted first, amassing a highly respectable 155 for 3 off its twenty overs- great opening stand from the Nicks Birtwistle and Corcoran, ably supported with another 50 from skipper Steve and a handy knock of 23 from Rob; a good total to be sure, but one which was still gettable. Would it be enough, though, given that both teams passed the 160 mark when last they met?

The first couple of overs of the SCC innings looked ominous to say the least, with both openers seemingly able to find the boundary at will. But once the break through was made, sometime in the fourth over, things changed dramatically, and, from that moment on, the result never looked in doubt. To say that our bowlers ran rampant would be an understatement- berserk would be more like it! I can remember waiting to come on to bowl my leggies, in my usual slot around the tenth over, and seriously wondering whether there’d be any SCC batsmen left to bowl at! To give you some indication of what transpired, SCC was bowled out for 120 in fifteen overs, giving Greasby Roaders a comfortable 35 run victory.

By far the most satisfying aspect of the win was that everyone in the team performed and made a positive contribution. In fact, there were so many good performances, it’s easier just to list them, player by player.

Nick Birtwistle. Hammered 23 runs off 13 deliveries in a record opening partnership for the team with Nick Corcoran; intelligent, thoughtful batting. Could Nick have found his true position in the batting line up as an opener? Later bowled one over of seam and picked up his maiden LMS wicket, finishing with figures of 1/ 12 off one over. Congratulations Nick, amazing what a difference a little net practice can make to one’s bowling!

Rob O’Keeffe. What can you say about the big man? Another good all round performance, smashing 23 runs off a mere 10 deliveries and finishing with bowling figures of 1/ 19 off 3.4 overs. His pace and fire certainly added to the woes of the SCC batsmen and kept the pressure up.

Mark Montgomery. Unlucky (or just down right self destructive if you prefer!) to have been run out without facing a ball when batting, but the mercurial Monty, back from holidays, bagged two wickets (2/ 34 off four) and was the spark that ignited the SCC collapse. (Must have been inspired by those Quantum gloves he spied on his recent travels!!!)

Jeff Barker. In only his fourth game of the season, the even more mercurial Yankee Doodle Dandy, put in a scorching spell of bowling, claiming three scalps, and finishing with figures of 3/ 21 off three overs. Great come back Jeff!

Stephen Willett. As always, the skipper led from the front, scoring a quick fire half century off 35 deliveries, as well as marshalling his troops with great effect in the field. (Charles take note: the majority of runs scored by the team, including Steve’s 50, were done with the Quantum! Time to trade up my friend, or rather down I guess, to a better bat!)

James Christensen. Didn’t get a chance to bat but bowled a wicket maiden, claiming the prize wicket of SCC skipper, Mark Jones, with one that pitched on leg, turned, beat the outside edge and carried on to hit the off stump. (Also almost broke my left hand cutting off what would have been a certain four off my own bowling. Ouch!)

Debutant Alec Stewart. Yes you read correctly, Alec Stewart! No, not the one time England keeper/ batsman, but our own 17 year old Alec Stewart from Caldy. Like his namesake, Alec’s work behind the stumps was faultless, and he hung on to several sharp catches. Came in cold for the last delivery of our innings and hit a beautiful straight drive for four (or is that eight?). Great debut Alec!

(Thanks must also go to Nick Corcoran, our one ringer from Eight4Sport, who opened the innings with our Nick and contributed a gritty half century off 49 deliveries.)

Well folks, there you have it. It’s official. Greasby Roaders are turning into not a half bad little cricket outfit. We have indeed gone past SCC in the regional rankings by two places; tenth to their twelfth, and now eagerly await the start of the newly created September Sunday League. Bring it on!!!

The SCC vs The Greasby Roaders

Date: Tue 23 Aug 2011

Batted First: The Greasby Roaders

The Greasby Roaders Score: 155 for 3 after 20.0

The SCC Score: 120 for 8 after 15.2

The Greasby Roaders won by 35 runs match stats:- http://lastmanstands.spawtz.com/SpawtzSkin/Fixtures/GameDetails.aspx?FixtureId=29632&LeagueId=274&SeasonId=35

Game 8

The Greasby Roaders v Eight4Sport

Thursday 28th July 2011

(Report written by James Christensen)

The Last Hoorah?

The second of our two preliminary finals, and, going in, we’ve got one win from one game under our belts. Victory, here, would give us an unassailable lead over both rivals, and book our place in the season Grand Final, against the winner in the other half of the draw!!! (Who would ever have believed that scenario six weeks ago?) Lose, and our fate depends on two things; the outcome of the last preliminary final, to be played between SCC and Eight4Sport on August 4th, and, second, the idiosyncrasies of LMS mathematics (in the event of a three way tied table).

No pressure then…

The lead up to the game had a decidedly familiar feel to the last time we encountered Eight4Sport; a failed attempt at getting everyone together for a practice, with overcast skies and a hint of rain on match day. (Actually, yours truly, aka Billy no mates, did turn up at Thornton Hough, and ended up practising my boomerang throwing skills, on my tod, instead! Shame, it was such a beautiful evening for cricket and the place was deserted- err, probably because of said boomerang throwing!). Again we had key players out (holiday season!), and again it took a myriad of emails and desperate texts to find extra players to make our numbers up. Even our right, honourable Chairman of Selectors, Nick, got involved, from the nether regions of the Scottish Highlands; that is, when he wasn’t too busy touring whisky distilleries, eating neeps, or trying to find mobile phone reception…

Coming back into the side we had big Rob ‘The Destroyer’ O’Keefe, whose Match Four explosive spell of 4/ 10 is the stuff of legend. Welcome back also to Graham Wild for his second appearance (following his promising debut a few weeks ago); while two new players were being blooded; Jim Bridgeman and Chris Lea (who, at the tender age of 20, is the youngest man ever to don the red (albeit ill-fitting) shirt of The Greasby Roaders). [Question: Why are there so many ‘XXL’ and ‘XXXL’ tops in the team shirt allocation, when most of us are either ‘M’ or ‘L’? Which begs the further question, just who or what is LMS expecting to sign up and play this form of cricket? "Yes, and Jabba the Hut intercepts the ball at cover and throws it back to Mr Blobby who’s at the stumps and… and… he’s eaten the ball as well as splitting his pants- how’s that for a double play??!!! Honestly, it’s just not a good look! In the team photo, taken to commemorate our first win, I’m wearing one of the XXXL wonders and I look like I’m auditioning for the role of Dopey in a forthcoming production of Black Beauty and the Seven Dwarfs!]

The good news, folks, is that we’re back on familiar territory- Wirral Main Oval, except that its beautiful grass pitch has been supplanted by one of those wretched Astroturf thingies. (Not hard, then, to deduce that your humble reporter is a somewhat disgruntled ‘leggy,’ who hasn’t managed a wicket since the uniform move to Astroturf was made several weeks ago! GGGRrrrrrr!!!! Maybe it’s the role of Grumpy I should be going for?!)

Onto the toss: The Sud Afrikkaan skipper of Eight4Sport wins and elects to field. Great! We would have batted in these murky conditions anyway, which we knew would only get murkier as the evening wore on; so a win/ win situation! No sooner had we walked away to pad up, though, but we find him chasing after us. Seems he wants to bat first after all, coz one of his blokes is ‘late;’ guess he probably didn’t get his diplomatic immunity through in time! (Sorry, obscure reference to Lethal Weapon there, from a time when Apartheid still existed and South Africans were invariably portrayed as the Hollywood bad guys. Which, of course, is totally unfair- South Africa is no longer Apartheid!). He looks at us pleadingly, knowing he’s done the chess equivalent of taking his finger off the piece, when he’s about to lose his queen. Okay then mate, we’ll allow it, and we’re off…. (Still don’t know whether we were had there. Certainly don’t remember seeing any of their lot turning up late, but still…)

A couple of really, good tight overs to begin with and we’re looking competitive; fielding is sharp and then it happens- the over from hell, and the openers are let off the hook; a terrible over that goes for well over 30 odd (yes, 30!!!) and sets the tone for much of the remainder of the Eight4Sport innings. Eight4Sport would end up amassing an imposing 179, but the umpire tells us later that we conceded something in the order of 80 runs in wides; that’s about 45% of their total! OUCH!!!!

Don’t get me wrong, there was also some very good bowling, and we managed to put the brakes on a runaway train that looked destined for 220 at one stage. I think it’s fair to say that probably every one who bowled had a bad over. I know mine was my first, hit all over the park, before I found my line and length; Rob’s was his third, where he strayed down leg side a couple of times, and also tried to decapitate a few of the opposing batsmen with head height bean balls. They were duly called ‘no balls,’ of course, but maybe ‘(almost) no heads’ would have been more appropriate! (You know that old pace bowler adage, of course; if you can’t get ‘em out, knock ‘em out!)

Wides and no balls aside, at least we did manage to improve upon our ‘nul points’ performance from the last game, in the wicket taking stakes. The first breakthrough came at the hands of the big man Rob. His opening spell was a fearsome display of menace and pace, and he was easily the quickest bowler on either side. He pressed his captain for aggressive field placings and beat the bat on a good number of occasions. Just reward was finally had with the sound that all bowlers so dearly love to hear; the death rattle of leather ball on hollow stumps. Yes, and when it’s Rob, it makes a pretty big sound! (Well done big fella!)

We’ve often joked about how tempting it is to give your own man not out, when you’re acting as square leg ump, but the second wicket gave us an indication of just what it would be like to have a howler go against you, when you’re the fielding side. It’s my third over, and I’d found the perfect line and length to a fairly fresh batsman, and managed to entice him out of the crease with a well flighted delivery. He misses and Charles pulls off a blinder of a stumping, which leaves me screaming the obligatory question, HOWZAAAAATTTT???!!! It was so obviously out, that Charles doesn’t really bother joining in the appeal, but just starts walking towards me to share in the celebration of the wicket, when, all of a sudden, we realise the guy’s not walking. I repeat my scream, HOW (the f***k!!! you blind twat, I’m thinking) IS THAAAAATTTTTTTT???!!!, waving my arms around, and jumping up and down on the spot for good measure.

Where do you look in this situation? What followed was something straight out of a Katherine Tate sketch. I turn to the guy at square leg. He looks at me with a fairly sheepish look on his face, but remains unrelenting in his decision. I look back at Charles; he looks back at me, with the same incredulous look on his face; then we both look at the bloke at square leg as if to say, "What the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?" Still no raised finger! We look back at each other again, shock and disbelief setting in, and finally turn to the LMS umpire who, by this stage, is also staring down the guy at Square Leg, arms folded, with an expression that says, "Look, mate, if you don’t give this, I’m going to have to overrule you, and wouldn’t that be a tad bit embarrassing?" Finally, it’s the batsman himself who sees the writing on the wall and trudges off; followed by the meekly, and now utterly redundant, raised finger of the guy at square leg. At last, my Astroturf hoodoo is lifted, but what a great piece of keeping from Charles, whose work behind the stumps is always done with such effortless panache. (I think the single best thing I ever did for the side was turning the gloves over to Charl!)

Our third and final wicket was the result of a brilliant piece of quick thinking by skipper Steve, who’d found a good line and length in his bowling, and was putting pressure on the batsmen. Steve had bowled a couple of good dot balls, and the striker pushes for a sharp single. Steve’s on it in a flash, runs, picks up, turns and throws down the stumps in one action; a great example of pressurised bowling forcing a wicket.

Well done to everyone in the field, especially debutant Chris, who pulled off some incredible saves. The outfield was certainly moist underneath which led to a few slips and slides, while, in the last six overs, bowlers had to dry the ball almost every other delivery. How ironic would it be if the weather gauge was about to turn in our favour! Imagine the delicious irony of pulling off a victory in conjunction with the weather, in the same way that Eight4Sport had done so cruelly to us…. [Refer Game Six Match Report.]

We walk off the pitch and it’s now raining quite heavily. So much so, that we take shelter in the, err, shelter (equipment shed?), and have to dry off our bats before we can use them. A few ironic smiles as people remember the weather gauge, and we formulate a batting order. 180 for victory then. It sounds a lot, but we chased down a big total just a week ago, and this was just a handful of runs more (that’s if you have 18 fingers on one hand of course!). It’s possible, but we’re lacking three of our regular top batting guns; Bry, Nick and Pete. Even so, it wasn’t over just yet, and even a closely fought loss would keep an outside hope alive of us making the final. The fight was still there to be fought…

In the classic Ridley Scott Sci Fi thriller, Alien, Warrant Officer Ripley takes the decision to activate her ship’s self destruct mechanism, in a last ditched endeavour to kill the alien stowaway that has murdered her crew one by one. (I don’t think the alien was South African in this case, but he was most definitely a baddy!) Imagine, if you will, the same emotionless, computerised voice of the ship’s computer, ‘Mother,’ against a background of blaring claxons and sirens: ‘Warning, Warning: The Greasby Roaders Self Destruct Mechanism has now been activated. Spectators [What spectators??!!], you now have ‘T’ minus 40 minutes to achieve minimum safe distance. Warning, warning: The Greasby Roaders Self Destruct Mechanism has now been activated…

Yes, I’m afraid to say, we well and truly went into self destruct mode, almost immediately, but why? The bowling wasn’t all that threatening, none of them bowled with any discernable pace, swing or turn, and Astroturf tends to favour the batsman far more than the bowler. Possibly it was the knowledge of the big ‘ask,’ the missing ‘top guns,’ or the fast deteriorating light. (I batted in a helmet for the first time in ages, purely because of the light. You could actually see the headlights of distant cars cutting a swathe through the murkiness!!!)

What was certain is that they bowled a really well disciplined line and length from stump to stump- not difficult to face, but difficult to get away. Most of us conspired to get ourselves out through poor shot selection in trying to force the pace or through poor running between the wickets. (Alas, some of us still think osmosis a far more effective means of calling, than using your voice!!!) They even had their own common sense solution to the weather gauge! Whereas we were desperately trying to dry the ball on socks, wrist bands and synthetic shirts/ trousers (no hope there!), they had one bloke with a cut off beach towel (yes a towel!) tucked into his pants whose responsibility it was to dry the ball after every delivery. Whoa, such professionalism and attention to detail from a team who clearly knows what it’s about.

I did have one brilliant innovation, though, which even they hadn’t thought of! Problem: Just how do you mark your guard on Astroturf when it’s totally unyielding to bat and shoe? Solution: Bring on the chalk!!! My cunning plan, on which I’d briefed the entire team, was for the next man in to carry the chalk, during their stay at square leg, so that they could then mark their guard when it was their turn to bat. They would then give the chalk to the incoming square leg, and so on it would go. Simple! (Total bloody genius, if I don’t mind saying myself!) Great plan, except Chris, our first square leg, carried it in his pocket right throughout our entire innings, until I came in at number seven.
"So guys, anyone bothered using the chalk yet?" I enquire, as it’s nearing my turn to bat.
"Err, what chalk?" came back a lone voice among the shrugs and blank faces.
"You know, the chalk I told you all about at the start of the innings!"
"Oh, that chalk! Err…. no!
"Why do I even bother??!! Well, who’s got the bloody chalk now then? I’ll use it!" […Yep, definitely the role of Grumpy I should be going for!!!]
"Err, sorry James, it’s still in my pocket," apologises Chris.
And so I march out determined to put to good use the piece of chalk I’d forked out a hard earned fifty pence for in the hour proceeding the game; the symbol of my ingenuity, the symbol of my utter determination that we should do well. I proudly announce before all and sundry, as I arrive at the middle, "Gentlemen, I give you the marvel of chalk!" Bemused smiles, as I ask for middle and draw in my guard. As I painstakingly lengthen the line of chalk about six inches towards the centre of the pitch, the keeper says to me, "Hey mate what ya gonna do if I move them stumps?"
As I walk towards Square Leg, I return, "Then I shall get my good man here to give me the chalk again and I shall take guard again" (smart arse, I add under my breath)!!! Of course, all this time I’m thinking, please don’t be a golden duck- how embarrassing would that be?! Six runs later I’m out, but I can thoroughly recommend the use of chalk on astro!

Our first four batsmen went for 1, 0, 10 and 8; and, at one stage, we were 19/ 4. Congratulations to Rob and Jim who staged a mid innings revival, scoring 25 and 23 respectively, and adding some much needed respectability to our total. On the subject of Jim, you really had to feel for him. He was last man standing and was pretty much stiffed by one of the dodgiest lbw decisions I’ve ever seen; ball striking batsman well forward and would have bounced a good three inches over the stumps. (I know because I was at Square Leg! And, yes, I was still armed with my chalk!) (My feeling is that the umpire just couldn’t be arsed hanging around for another four and bit overs, for a result which was now a foregone conclusion.)

So there we have it then, the somewhat inglorious end to our first season. The mood in the club house later on was subdued to be sure, as we sipped our pints and pondered on what might have been; but it had nothing to do with the match we’d just lost. We were hooked, we were hungry for more and we didn’t want it to end. The general mood seemed to be, hey, just because it’s over, doesn’t mean that it’s over. So chaps let’s keep in touch. Let’s get together for that hit around the village green or catch up in the pub. Already there is talk about fielding a Greasby Roaders team in an indoor cricket comp, in the off season, to be back bigger and better for next summer. Match 8 might have been the last hoorah of the season, but, I suspect, it is far from being the last hoorah for The Greasby Roaders.

Footnotes.

Battle of the bats: For followers of the rivalry between the Kemmerick and the Quantum Storm, you’ll be interested to note that the Fluorescent pink won the evening’s honours, and that I’m still yet to bat with it myself in an actual game!
There were two injuries, both sustained in the nets before the game. (Yes, we all actually turned up early for once!) Rob’s was the first injury. I was bowling and Rob no doubt was expecting my usual leg spin. I should have told him that I was working on my faster, inswinging ‘mystery’ ball which actually swung a lot and copped him on the top of his left thigh. Sorry again mate! The second injury I sustained at the hands of young Sean Willett (someone sign that kid up as a future Greasby Roader!). Batting with no pads, I copped one going down leg side on the back of my right calf muscle. Just think, two bowlers almost out of commission, before the coin was even tossed

The Greasby Roaders vs Eight4sport
Date: Thu 28 Jul 2011
Batted First: Eight4sport
Eight4sport Score: 179 for 3 after 20.0
The Greasby Roaders Score: 78 for 8 after 15.3
Eight4sport won by 101 runs

match stats:-

http://lastmanstands.spawtz.com/SpawtzSkin/Fixtures/GameDetails.aspx?FixtureId=29097&LeagueId=533&SeasonId=36

Game 7

The Greasby Roaders v The SCC

Thursday 21st July 2011

(report written by James Christensen)

The merest of margins…. again!

Greasby Roaders and SCC have only played each other twice, but the encounters are already proving to be the stuff of which dreams and nightmares are made in equal measure; where heroic deeds and soaring spirits are counterbalanced with anguished heartache and utter despair. Two games of cricket; each ultimately decided by one, solitary ball- the very last delivery of the match. Game one belonged to the SCC, but that was just a bog standard league game. This second encounter had the weight and feel of a preliminary final about it; the first part of a round robin final series to determine bragging rights and minor silverware in the bottom half of the table; but who would the cricketing gods favour this time?

The one thing you can say about the SCC is that they’re keen. When we arrived for our first match against them, they’d already been in the nets for a good half hour warming up, so it was no real surprise to arrive, this time, and find their yellow shirts practising on the actual pitch we’d soon be using; a pitch, I might add, we’d never played on before! To make matters worse, we were about as late as you could be without forfeiting the match- great start! But our lack of a warm up was the least of our problems. As a team, we were about as rusty and out of practice as the Titanic’s number two engine; the cumulative result of cancelled games, blokes coming back from hols, and practice sessions which never quite got off the ground. Yes, our younger, keener opponents already seemed to have the advantage…

We win the toss and elect to field. The pitch is designated as WCC3, which you’d be forgiven for thinking was a reflection of its quality; shortish boundaries, Astroturf deck, with a clumpy outfield- so clumpy, in fact, you’d think Farmer Brown had just driven over it in his combine harvester!

If Ritchie Benaud’s oft quoted cliché, "catches win matches," was anything to go by, we were soon in big, big trouble. At the half way stage, SCC’s score line read twenty overs; 161/ 0. Yes, you read correctly, One Hundred and Sixty One for Zero. ZERO!!!! NOUGHT!!! ZILCH!!! ZIP!!! NOTHING!!! Certainly our worst fielding performance since Game One, when Bromborough Penguins hammered us to the tune of 194, but at least we did get a couple of wickets against them! Nul Points was definitely a bitter pill to swallow and to say that we were feeling deflated was an understatement. In retrospect, I think we were still trying to adjust to bowling on astro rather than turf, and once we’d taken a bit of stick early on, we were a bit reticent to put guys closer to the bat, where a lot of catches were going begging.

(Honourable mentions in the bowling department must go to the good Rev, Mark, who beat the bat on numerous occasions without success- oh for another coat of varnish on those stumps (!!!); and the skipper, Steve, who bowled his four overs for a, comparatively, economical return of 6.5 per over. Thanks also to Nick and Charles, despite their lack of recent bowling experience, for cheerfully stepping into the breach to be our fifth bowler between them.)

Nervous smiles all round, as we trudge from the field and sit on the grass, in our imaginary batting hutch; still somewhat shell shocked, with Charles and Bry padding up. No one needed to say the obvious- we were well and truly hammered. "Let’s just have a good time and enjoy it", someone finally said, and with that, we all visibly relaxed, breathed a collective sigh (of what? resignation?), and, surprisingly, with the prospect of a win pretty much off the cards, we did manage to ‘chill.’

Ah, the agony of choice when it came to bat; Charles’ ‘Kemmerick’ or my new blade, the ‘Quantum Storm;’ the lime green of the Kookaburra versus the fluorescent pink of the ‘Gay’ Nicholls? With two decent bats to choose from, no, make that three, with Pete’s ‘Golden Oldie’ Gunn & Moore (held together with gaffer tape and a prayer), maybe our batting assault might just stand a chance.

Charles ‘The Terminator’ Pickering strode out to the crease with the ‘Kemmerick,’ while Bryan ‘The Brawler’ Jackson brandished the garish Quantum; a look of quiet determination etched across each opener’s face. Who were these yellow shirted kids anyway? We have the talent, and now we have the fire power at both ends. Let’s give it to ‘em; both barrels…

Not a good start for the Quantum, then, with Bryan walking back, having not troubled the scorer one iota; but what a spectacular dismissal! I don’t think anyone has managed to successfully combine the sports of cricket and pole vaulting before, but Mr Jackson certainly gave it a good try. The Terminator is the striker and works a bread and butter single, screaming at the Brawler to move. Bry finally takes heed, and manages to hurtle himself down the track, he slides his bat but, bang, it gets stuck in one of Farmer Brown’s clumps, and Bry goes sailing through the air, fully horizontal, with his grounded bat now behind him.

A photo finish between the ball and Bry would have revealed the following: stumps broken by ball; Bry’s horror stricken face looking back at bat, which is still a good four inches from the crease and totally stuck in the clump, while Bry’s body is till flying through the air, as if auditioning for the title role in the backwards version of Superman: The movie. Yes Bry, you were in, or rather over, the crease but, unfortunately, no part of you was actually grounded, and poor old Nick had no other option but to raise the finger…. (In the polite umpiring way, of course, not in the, err, well, you know what I mean…)

Our first wicket goes cheaply then, and it’s Nick who inherits the Quantum from Bry; but is it going to be a ‘Kemmerick’s bat’ part two affair? Nick looks to be in good touch though, crafting eight, but gets a good delivery that bounces a bit and he lifts it straight to deep mid-wicket. Oh well, at least the Quantum seems to work as a bat!

Next man to go is the Terminator for 17. Once again, Charles had looked the goods with some copy book stroke making, before a dismissal which was almost as bizarre as Bryan’s. When Charles opened the innings, the ground had been bathed in bright sunshine, and he’d opted to wear his ‘terminator style’ sun glasses. Unfortunately, the sky had since clouded over, transforming his terminator sunnies into what were virtually industrial strength welding goggles. Alas, Charles (apparently oblivious to the changed weather conditions) simply never saw the full toss that bowled him. An object lesson for any youngsters out there reading this; there is a very good reason why you never see professional cricketers wearing sunglasses when they bat! Just ask your Uncle Charl!

We’re about two thirds of the way through the match now, and things are not looking much better; already three of our blokes are back in the ‘shed’ with a score line struggling to nudge 35. But cometh the hour, cometh the man or men as the case turned out….

Enter Mark ‘Mayhem’ Montgomery and Peter ‘the rock’ Clowes. Mark’s whirlwind 33 off seven deliveries picked the run rate up considerably, while Peter’s steadying influence of keeping the scoreboard ticking over was beginning to visibly niggle the opposition. Mark’s departure brought out skipper Steve, and the game was well and truly beginning to turn our way. What followed was a beautiful partnership of intelligent batting and controlled aggression. After each over, Steve would ask the all important question about the equation to win; and, suddenly, the equation was beginning to look gettable. 114/ 4 with four overs to go; that’s 48 more runs required at a run rate of about 12 an over. Do we dare to dream?

The opposition were now beginning to look tired and decidedly sloppy in the field, which brought out some classic one liners from their ‘dead scouser’ captain. "Air knobhead you cut them runs off beautiful like (cue walkie talkie static to replicate guttural scouser utterance); but it was a crap attempt at a catch." Or, even more bluntly to his keeper, after a botched run out, "You fookin’ helmet, ya meant to be behind them stumps!" Yes, we were indeed beginning to see why the yellow shirts turned up to matches so early, with the Scouse version of Captain Bligh at the helm. (Actually, he’s a thoroughly lovely bloke with a brilliant sense of humour, who played for us as a ringer not so long ago…)

The Clowes-Willett partnership had brought us tantalisingly close to an upset, and with the momentum we’d gained, it looked like the Steve/ Pete juggernaut was unstoppable! That was until, "Ah, excuse me Mr Batsman, but that is now your 50 and you have to retire." So bye bye to Pete with a well deserved 55 not out. That brought Phil G in with the equation at 16 required from 10 deliveries. A risky little partnership between Phil and Steve ensued, with Phil finally being run out for 10, and the equation was now two from two.

A distinct feeling of deja vu accompanied me, as I walked out to the centre. I’d been here before, but last time I was last man standing and I needed to hit a boundary to get us over the line from the last delivery. I’d scored 7 already and I’d managed to get my eye in during a partnership with Pete. But with Pete gone, it was all down to me. I eyed a huge gap between straight hit and cover and aimed to loft a drive; four runs required from one delivery, easy! Great plan; poor execution and I was comprehensively bowled- from potential hero to zero in a matter of seconds. There was no way I wanted to relive that particular scenario! At least, I was the non-striker this time, and for all I knew, Steve might hit the winning runs without me having to face that dreaded last ball.

I greeted Steve in the middle and he briefed me on the plan- let’s get whatever we can on the ball and run like hell. Hmmm, good plan, I nodded! Second last delivery of the game and I’m half way down the pitch before the ball even reaches Steve. He gets a little edge on the ball and we race through for a scratchy single. Momentary relief as we realise the scores are tied, and we can’t lose; but there’s still an opportunity for victory. Oh crap, it’s down to me again, isn’t it? Steve and I are both pretty quick over 22 yards, so it’s a question of getting something, anything on the ball again and trusting our speed and, to some extent, the shot nerves of the opposition. Whatever happens though, don’t get bowled, don’t get bowled. In comes the bowler, it’s wide outside off, I plant my back foot across and back, giving the bat an almighty flourish. I don’t know if I’ve even connected, but I manage to obscure the keeper sufficiently for him to fumble the ball and, like Forest Gump, I run. Steve, backing up to the hilt, was already home, which left me running and diving at the non striker’s end. My first indication of victory was seeing the ball sail past me and on to the mid on boundary; the result of a desperate and ill directed last throw of the ball (and dice!). Victory! I turn and face Steve and we’ve both got the same silly grins, but I notice the keeper beyond Steve and my heart goes out to him. For I too know what it feels like to be a cricketing helmet!

Game on. The quest for (minor) silverware continues….

James.

The SCC vs The Greasby Roaders
Date: Thu 21 Jul 2011
Batted First: The SCC
The SCC Score: 161 for 0 after 20.0
The Greasby Roaders Score: 163 for 5 after 20.0
The Greasby Roaders won by 3 wickets

match stats:-

http://lastmanstands.spawtz.com/SpawtzSkin/Fixtures/GameDetails.aspx?FixtureId=29096&LeagueId=533&SeasonId=36