Season Two, Game Ten: The One That (almost) Had Everything- 18th July, 2012
(by James Christensen)
There is no denying that WK Willows is one of the premier teams in the competition. They’re currently ranked 4th on the Wirral, compared to our 8th. Their win ratio touches 70%, while ours is about half of that. Clearly, if we were to beat them, we’d have to be firing on all eight cylinders. But fire up we did, and what eventuated was about as thrilling an LMS encounter as you could possibly imagine.
Pre-match and the ‘toss’ is a bit of a non-event. Stevie ‘the wonder’ Willett, back from his moonlighting with the SCC, suggests that we bowl first to accommodate a couple of our players who have to leave early (Charles and Pete). The opposition skipper is only too pleased to oblige, stating they’d have batted first anyway. (Well, dah, who wouldn’t? As bitter experience had shown us time and time again…)
The WK Willows openers make their way to the middle and you can tell, just by looking at them, that they’re a team with fairly professional aspirations. For one, they’ve gone to the trouble of having their helmets covered in a cloth coating that matches their light blue uniforms exactly. (Wonder how many bonus points that’s worth?) And it’d look pretty impressive too, if it were not for the fact that said cloth coatings looked about as sharp as Steven Waugh’s champagne stained, moth eaten baggy green on the day of his retirement. Their skipper’s helmet was particularly unsightly, as the cloth on the peak looked like it had been prized back with a paint scrapper, had undergone some kind of chemical metamorphosis, and had since turned into this concertinaed mass that looked like it was growing organically out of his forehead. (Perhaps he was trying to evoke the look of a Klingon warrior from Star Trek?) In any case, I couldn’t resist a bit of sledging as I walked past, “Nice helmet. Is that out of the Steve Waugh catalogue?” I suddenly thought, bloody hell, he’s probably too young to even know who Steve Waugh is, but the reply came back, “Oooo… so the sledging’s started early then….” And I was actually grateful that the barb had been decoded and understood.(Thanks for not making me feel quite so old kid…)
What follows is a good tussle between bat and ball, with WK Willows making 148/ 3 at the close of their innings. Two of their lads got 50s, but there were also times when we pinned them back, with wickets going one apiece to Renners, Corky and Monty. So game on… 148 was a challenging total in light that was sure to deteriorate, but it wasn’t insurmountable. We were in with a big chance here….
So it’s the two boys who have to leave early who open the batting; Pete and Charles. Pete is in a particularly savage mood, right from the start, bludgeoning 17 from a mere eight deliveries, before he unleashes the big hoik over mid-wicket one too many times and is caught out. By contrast, Charles is uncharacteristically sluggish and seems to be having timing issues. How could we have foreseen what was about to happen though? Charles works through his initial poor form and is suddenly transformed into a kind of batting berserker. He ratchets up 52* off 32 balls, and, at one stage, hits three sixes in one over! And when I say sixes, I mean HUGE sixes. So huge, in fact, that he had the players on the neighbouring field running for cover and interrupted their game! While Charles was wreaking havoc, WK Willows kept themselves in the game by snaring the wickets of Renners (6 runs from 8 deliveries) and Graham (3 from 9). (And just so you’re not worrying too much, dear readers, the Rennison/ Wild bro-mance is still on- I’m reliably informed that all was forgiven after Renners sent Graham chocolates and flowers, and both attended counselling….)
Charles retires then and it’s Stephen Willett who joins the ever reliable Nick Corcoran at the crease. If we had access to one of those worm graphs that plots both teams’ innings, one worm would be laid over the other exactly- it was that close. We would have lost a few more wickets, which was a slight worry, but understandable, given the far less favourable light conditions….
Stevie ‘Wonder’ and Corky put a great partnership together and have pretty much turned the match in our favour. After ten overs we’re 80 odd and the little red worm on the graph is inching a little higher than the light blue one. And then it happens. A moment of high drama that none could possibly have predicted… Stephen Willett is KO’ed by a bouncer!
The ‘hit man’ in question was a young fellow by the name of Kiran Nalluri, a medium quick, who (we knew from past games) showed a particular predilection for bowling back of a length. Steve had negotiated a couple of these quite well, dispatching a few to the square leg fence, but whether Kiran changed pace a cog or banged it in a bit shorter, Steve was deceived, playing his pull shot too early, and copped one in the head…
The worrying part was that Steve immediately dropped to the ground and lay perfectly still, face down for what seemed like an eternity, although it was probably no more than two or three seconds. Finally there’s some movement- at least he’s not dead then! He staggers to his feet, rubbing and moving his jaw- obviously the point of impact. I rush out to the field and ask him if he’s okay. He says he is and wants to continue. I offer him a helmet, but he waves it away and bravely (or stupidly?) picks up his bat again.
Before Steve was hit, he’d probably amassed about twenty odd runs, had got his eye in and was just beginning to cut loose with some big shots. There’s no question that the blow to the head slowed him down a bit and the red worm now begins to dip under the light blue one. Steve is batting as well as ever after a couple of overs or so, but the poor light is beginning to have an effect, and captain courageous is bowled, just one shy of his half century.
And so the game is anyone’s again, with the odds just beginning to favour the men in light blue…. There are 10 runs required for victory off seven deliveries. Monty comes in at number seven and goes for glory…and…and… he’s gone, caught at mid off without troubling the scorer. Yours truly walks to the crease and joins Corky the Cat. A quick conference and we decide it’s best to let Corky try for the runs as he’s the man with his eye in. It’s the last ball of the over, I middle it to a man deep and, before I can stop myself, I’m calling for the single and Corky obliges. “Sorry mate… instincts just took over.” “No probs,” Corky smiles back and so it’s me to face the first ball of the last over; nine runs required from five deliveries. I work the ball away for another single which brings Corky back on strike; eight now from four deliveries. Corky lets fly, trying for the long off boundary, it’s intercepted but we manage to scramble back for a desperate second; six runs now from three deliveries. Corky tries for another boundary, but again all we can manage is another single, which brings me back on strike; five needed with two balls remaining. The ball is fullish but pushing slightly down leg and I whip it off my pads onto the on side (hoping to replicate the shot that brought me four runs last week), but it comes off the toe rather than the Quantum’s sweet spot and, yep, you guessed it, it’s another single. Corky’s back on strike for the final delivery of the innings and we’re still looking for that elusive boundary. The Cat gives it the full flourish of the bat but there’s only ever a single there and it’s the Willows home by three runs. We walk off the pitch a little dejected, but happy we’d given it our best shot. At the close, Corky had made a very respectable 26* (from 17), while I had 3* (from 3).
All in all a cracking game of cricket, which had just about everything; except, maybe, that final, elusive boundary that would have brought us victory.
But did we actually lose? Despite Charles’ glorious sixes, for my money, the shot of the match had to belong to Renners. One of the quicker Willows bowlers delivered a vicious, head high bean ball which Renners played beautifully. He leant back casually, getting himself out of harm’s way, while angling his bat to steer the ball for what should have been a well deserved boundary; had it not hit a randomly placed aluminium can on the outfield, several feet short of the flags!!! Now, here’s my theory. If we could link a DNA sample from the can to one of the Willows boys, then that would prove it was their fault the can was on the field in the first place, thereby justifying the awarding of the full four runs. Renners ran one, so that means we should have been awarded an additional three runs, making it a draw.
Anyone know a good forensic scientist and QC?
Monday, 23 July 2012
Season Two, Game Nine
Season Two, Game Nine: The Willett Enigma-15th July, 2012
(by James Christensen)
Another Sunday afternoon of cricket, and doesn’t it feel good to be alive? Last time we played on a Sunday it was the ‘Super Sunday’ double header, which provided us with our first two wins of the season. Today, of course, we’ll be hoping for more of that ‘Super Sunday’ magic, while our worthy opponents, Eight4Sport, will be motivated by the desire to make amends for their narrow defeat, when last we met…
Now, I could try and build some drama and give you a history of Roaders/ Eight4Sport encounters. I could tell you that Eight4Sport won both matches in 2011, while we’re currently one up in season 2012. That much is certainly true... I could then go on and tell you of individual rivalries, of scores unsettled, and wrongs that would be righted in the grudge match to follow…. but all of that would be journalistic invention, or, to put it another way, total bollocks!
The truth, dear readers, is that both teams enjoy the sort of relationship that brings out the very best sportsmanship; and that was certainly in evidence today. Opposition batsmen were congratulated for each half decent stroke they played; while bowlers were given nods of approval for good deliveries from the very batsmen they were trying to dismiss. Perhaps this excellent relationship was forged in the battlefield of indoor cricket in the off season; perhaps by virtue of the fact that so many of us have played as ringers for the other side? Whatever the reason, our matches have developed that relaxed feeling of ‘friendly competition’ rather than ‘adversarial combat.’
Greasby Roaders bat first. Nick Birtwistle and Charles Pickering make a solid enough start, before The Mechano Man is bowled out for 11 (from 15 deliveries). Charles is joined by Peter Clowes, and it’s Pete who looks to be in excellent touch, unleashing some exquisite shots right from the get go. An unusually subdued Charles adopts the role of anchor-man, lending solid support to Pete, before he finally departs for 32 (also bowled, after facing a gritty 46 deliveries). We’re into the final stages of the innings and Pete is blazing away towards his second LMS half century, now assisted by yours truly (8* from 11), who tries to rotate as much of the strike to Pete as possible. Unfortunately, Pete is left stranded on 45* (from 35 deliveries), with the Roaders having made 96/2 at the close.
The big question then - would 96 be enough of a total to defend? Just a shame, really, that we didn’t have the services of another big hitter… I don’t know, say, someone like a Stephen Willett perhaps? Hmmm, wonder why Willett couldn’t play today? Knowing the skipper, must’ve been something pretty major. I mean, a club-man like Steve wouldn’t let us down, unless it was really important…Jury duty perhaps? (Nah, it’s a Sunday…) Delivering a baby on the side of the road? (Well possibly.) On Her Majesty’s Secret Service? MI6 assignment? (Who knows, but he’s most definitely NOT here!)
Eight4Sport open with Richard Veigas and their skipper, Nick Corcoran. The Roaders toil hard in the field; the batsmen play and miss a couple of times and, of course, there are the inevitable chances and half chances that go begging. After facing 38 deliveries, Richard Veigas is applauded off the field, with 52* against his name, and finally, FINALLY, there’s a chance to bowl to a fresh batsman…
By this stage, we’ve tried just about everything. We even had Charles (our regular keeper) bowl an over, while Joel (Angelina) Hockley discovered, the hard way, that maybe keeping is not his cricketing strong suit. (Sorry mate, but as a keeper you make a very good bowler! Clowesy’s still having nightmares about the four ‘byes’ conceded between your legs, together with that dropped sitter off his bowling; made even more comical by the fact that they were off consecutive deliveries. Pete’s face was priceless. He shrugged off the first misdemeanour remarkably well, but threw his head back and was heard to say something that rhymes with “Ahhh for duck’s lake!!!” after the second. Pete may well need years of counselling after this, if not decades!)
I must admit that I was a little aggrieved that the Big O, on skippering duties, didn’t turn to yours truly to don the gloves, since I kept for the Roaders in our first couple of outings and actually have an LMS keeper’s catch to my name. “Did you?” came Rob’s incredulous answer when queried on this point after the game. Glad it made such a strong impression on you ‘mate!’ Although, after my bowling performance, I’m not surprised that the Big O had lost a little faith in me- three overs at 10 a piece is not what you expect from a middle overs bowler, whose main job is to contain. Don’t know what’s happened to me since last year, but I certainly seem to have lost my bowling mojo, although, at least, my batting game has improved…. And Joel, here’s the compliment now mate… you bowled a very tidy four overs and were unlucky not to have claimed a wicket.
So, at this desperate stage, with the match all but lost, Nick Birtwistle is thrown the ball, and the Mechano Man doesn’t disappoint- bowling Matt Whitely through the gate for 8 runs (from 8 deliveries). (I did say, in a previous report, that Nick might be turning into something of an all rounder and, once again, we have further evidence that his may be the case. Well done mate - think I’m going to have to hand my leg spinning crown over to you on a permanent basis!)
Ultimately, the breakthrough’s in vein…Corky’s brother, Tim, joins him at the crease and the two Corcorans steer Eight4Sport home with just under three overs to spare; Corky having made a well compiled 33* (from 37 deliveries) and Tim 4* (from 4).
In the end, Greasby Roaders competed for about two thirds of the game, before Corky’s men pulled away to record a pretty convincing victory. Still can’t help but think that there might have been a missing ingredient in our bowling attack somewhere… Now, a man who can both contain and take wickets, as well as effect the occasional stunning run out - don’t know about you, but think I’m describing Stephen Willett again….
And so, back to the question on everyone’s lips, where WAS Willett today?
TRANSCRIPT OF EARLIER CONVERSATION IN GREASBY ROADERS BATTING HUTCH- 10 MINUTES INTO THE MATCH…..
ROADER ONE: “So where’s Steve then?”
ROADER TWO: “Yeah, not like him to miss a Sunday game.”
ROADER THREE: “On holidays?”
GUY IN THE KNOW: “Ah, not exactly… Actually, he’s playing cricket….”
ROADER ONE: “Sorry, could you repeat that last bit. I thought you just said he was playing cricket.”
ROADER TWO: “Must mean he’s coaching his under elevens…”
GUY IN THE KNOW: No, I mean…
ROADER THREE: [Interrupting]… “Isn’t he doing an umpiring course or something? Must be that….”
GUY IN THE KNOW: [Shouting now] “NO, I MEAN HE’S ACTUALLY PLAYING CRICKET…HIMSELF!!!!”
[Stunned silence ensues, as all and sundry try to take in the implications of what’s been said…]
RANDOM ROADER: “But he can’t be playing cricket, coz he’s not… Hang on… you mean….”
ROADER THREE: “He’s playing for someone else!?”
[Gasps of shock and horror…]
RANDOM ROADER: “Bastard!”
ROADER ONE: “Judas Iscariot The bloody Ringer Willett!”
ROADER TWO: “Don’t tell me he’s playing as a ringer for someone else?!”
GUY IN THE KNOW: “No, he’s playing a friendly for the SCC.”
ROADER THREE: “Poncing around in ‘solar flare yellow’ for the bloody SCC! And it doesn’t even count towards anything?! I don’t know what’s worse!!!”
Well, that was kind of the gist of it anyway… Greasby Roaders were without the services of their regular skipper, because he was playing a social game for the SCC, and the guys were none too pleased…
[Note to self. Great idea for Greasby Roaders merchandising… Children’s book based on ‘Where’s Wally Now?’ but retitled ‘Where’s Willett Now?’ Illustrations to depict Greasby Roaders in all sorts of cricketing crises and dilemmas. Main difference between the books is that whereas you can always find Wally somewhere in the illustrations, we won’t bother drawing Willett in, because he was NEVER there in the first place!!!]
All jokes aside, Steve did actually have a perfectly reasonable excuse. SCC had invited him to play in a social 40 over a side match some time ago, before a cancelled Eight4Sport match was rescheduled to become today’s game. (He was simply just honouring an earlier commitment.) So Steve, your reputation as Mr Integrity remains intact. Not that we…err… ever doubted you….
(by James Christensen)
Another Sunday afternoon of cricket, and doesn’t it feel good to be alive? Last time we played on a Sunday it was the ‘Super Sunday’ double header, which provided us with our first two wins of the season. Today, of course, we’ll be hoping for more of that ‘Super Sunday’ magic, while our worthy opponents, Eight4Sport, will be motivated by the desire to make amends for their narrow defeat, when last we met…
Now, I could try and build some drama and give you a history of Roaders/ Eight4Sport encounters. I could tell you that Eight4Sport won both matches in 2011, while we’re currently one up in season 2012. That much is certainly true... I could then go on and tell you of individual rivalries, of scores unsettled, and wrongs that would be righted in the grudge match to follow…. but all of that would be journalistic invention, or, to put it another way, total bollocks!
The truth, dear readers, is that both teams enjoy the sort of relationship that brings out the very best sportsmanship; and that was certainly in evidence today. Opposition batsmen were congratulated for each half decent stroke they played; while bowlers were given nods of approval for good deliveries from the very batsmen they were trying to dismiss. Perhaps this excellent relationship was forged in the battlefield of indoor cricket in the off season; perhaps by virtue of the fact that so many of us have played as ringers for the other side? Whatever the reason, our matches have developed that relaxed feeling of ‘friendly competition’ rather than ‘adversarial combat.’
Greasby Roaders bat first. Nick Birtwistle and Charles Pickering make a solid enough start, before The Mechano Man is bowled out for 11 (from 15 deliveries). Charles is joined by Peter Clowes, and it’s Pete who looks to be in excellent touch, unleashing some exquisite shots right from the get go. An unusually subdued Charles adopts the role of anchor-man, lending solid support to Pete, before he finally departs for 32 (also bowled, after facing a gritty 46 deliveries). We’re into the final stages of the innings and Pete is blazing away towards his second LMS half century, now assisted by yours truly (8* from 11), who tries to rotate as much of the strike to Pete as possible. Unfortunately, Pete is left stranded on 45* (from 35 deliveries), with the Roaders having made 96/2 at the close.
The big question then - would 96 be enough of a total to defend? Just a shame, really, that we didn’t have the services of another big hitter… I don’t know, say, someone like a Stephen Willett perhaps? Hmmm, wonder why Willett couldn’t play today? Knowing the skipper, must’ve been something pretty major. I mean, a club-man like Steve wouldn’t let us down, unless it was really important…Jury duty perhaps? (Nah, it’s a Sunday…) Delivering a baby on the side of the road? (Well possibly.) On Her Majesty’s Secret Service? MI6 assignment? (Who knows, but he’s most definitely NOT here!)
Eight4Sport open with Richard Veigas and their skipper, Nick Corcoran. The Roaders toil hard in the field; the batsmen play and miss a couple of times and, of course, there are the inevitable chances and half chances that go begging. After facing 38 deliveries, Richard Veigas is applauded off the field, with 52* against his name, and finally, FINALLY, there’s a chance to bowl to a fresh batsman…
By this stage, we’ve tried just about everything. We even had Charles (our regular keeper) bowl an over, while Joel (Angelina) Hockley discovered, the hard way, that maybe keeping is not his cricketing strong suit. (Sorry mate, but as a keeper you make a very good bowler! Clowesy’s still having nightmares about the four ‘byes’ conceded between your legs, together with that dropped sitter off his bowling; made even more comical by the fact that they were off consecutive deliveries. Pete’s face was priceless. He shrugged off the first misdemeanour remarkably well, but threw his head back and was heard to say something that rhymes with “Ahhh for duck’s lake!!!” after the second. Pete may well need years of counselling after this, if not decades!)
I must admit that I was a little aggrieved that the Big O, on skippering duties, didn’t turn to yours truly to don the gloves, since I kept for the Roaders in our first couple of outings and actually have an LMS keeper’s catch to my name. “Did you?” came Rob’s incredulous answer when queried on this point after the game. Glad it made such a strong impression on you ‘mate!’ Although, after my bowling performance, I’m not surprised that the Big O had lost a little faith in me- three overs at 10 a piece is not what you expect from a middle overs bowler, whose main job is to contain. Don’t know what’s happened to me since last year, but I certainly seem to have lost my bowling mojo, although, at least, my batting game has improved…. And Joel, here’s the compliment now mate… you bowled a very tidy four overs and were unlucky not to have claimed a wicket.
So, at this desperate stage, with the match all but lost, Nick Birtwistle is thrown the ball, and the Mechano Man doesn’t disappoint- bowling Matt Whitely through the gate for 8 runs (from 8 deliveries). (I did say, in a previous report, that Nick might be turning into something of an all rounder and, once again, we have further evidence that his may be the case. Well done mate - think I’m going to have to hand my leg spinning crown over to you on a permanent basis!)
Ultimately, the breakthrough’s in vein…Corky’s brother, Tim, joins him at the crease and the two Corcorans steer Eight4Sport home with just under three overs to spare; Corky having made a well compiled 33* (from 37 deliveries) and Tim 4* (from 4).
In the end, Greasby Roaders competed for about two thirds of the game, before Corky’s men pulled away to record a pretty convincing victory. Still can’t help but think that there might have been a missing ingredient in our bowling attack somewhere… Now, a man who can both contain and take wickets, as well as effect the occasional stunning run out - don’t know about you, but think I’m describing Stephen Willett again….
And so, back to the question on everyone’s lips, where WAS Willett today?
TRANSCRIPT OF EARLIER CONVERSATION IN GREASBY ROADERS BATTING HUTCH- 10 MINUTES INTO THE MATCH…..
ROADER ONE: “So where’s Steve then?”
ROADER TWO: “Yeah, not like him to miss a Sunday game.”
ROADER THREE: “On holidays?”
GUY IN THE KNOW: “Ah, not exactly… Actually, he’s playing cricket….”
ROADER ONE: “Sorry, could you repeat that last bit. I thought you just said he was playing cricket.”
ROADER TWO: “Must mean he’s coaching his under elevens…”
GUY IN THE KNOW: No, I mean…
ROADER THREE: [Interrupting]… “Isn’t he doing an umpiring course or something? Must be that….”
GUY IN THE KNOW: [Shouting now] “NO, I MEAN HE’S ACTUALLY PLAYING CRICKET…HIMSELF!!!!”
[Stunned silence ensues, as all and sundry try to take in the implications of what’s been said…]
RANDOM ROADER: “But he can’t be playing cricket, coz he’s not… Hang on… you mean….”
ROADER THREE: “He’s playing for someone else!?”
[Gasps of shock and horror…]
RANDOM ROADER: “Bastard!”
ROADER ONE: “Judas Iscariot The bloody Ringer Willett!”
ROADER TWO: “Don’t tell me he’s playing as a ringer for someone else?!”
GUY IN THE KNOW: “No, he’s playing a friendly for the SCC.”
ROADER THREE: “Poncing around in ‘solar flare yellow’ for the bloody SCC! And it doesn’t even count towards anything?! I don’t know what’s worse!!!”
Well, that was kind of the gist of it anyway… Greasby Roaders were without the services of their regular skipper, because he was playing a social game for the SCC, and the guys were none too pleased…
[Note to self. Great idea for Greasby Roaders merchandising… Children’s book based on ‘Where’s Wally Now?’ but retitled ‘Where’s Willett Now?’ Illustrations to depict Greasby Roaders in all sorts of cricketing crises and dilemmas. Main difference between the books is that whereas you can always find Wally somewhere in the illustrations, we won’t bother drawing Willett in, because he was NEVER there in the first place!!!]
All jokes aside, Steve did actually have a perfectly reasonable excuse. SCC had invited him to play in a social 40 over a side match some time ago, before a cancelled Eight4Sport match was rescheduled to become today’s game. (He was simply just honouring an earlier commitment.) So Steve, your reputation as Mr Integrity remains intact. Not that we…err… ever doubted you….
Season Two, Game Eight
Season Two, Game Eight: Plumbing the Depths- 3rd July, 2012
(by James Christensen)
After the stratospheric heights of twin victories in the recent ‘Super Sunday,’ came the crashing depths of a re-match against The Real Neston. For those readers of a certain squeamish disposition, I would advise you to proceed no further, as what follows is neither pretty nor nice; suffice it to say that we allowed an opposition to score 205 and then were bowled out for 103 in reply.
There you go- job done, end of story, stop reading…
Except, of course, you haven’t stopped reading- nor will you, until the whole sorry episode is laid bare, like an abandoned carcass set before a horde of baying hyenas… Oh you sad, sadistic, macabre people. What is it about the human psyche that derives such pleasure from tales of carnage and woe? Okay then, I’ll continue, but don’t say I didn’t warn you…
Our first mistake, believe it or not, was in winning the toss. The intermittent sunshine which shone at present was not to last- the dark clouds would gather steadily throughout the evening and the light would only worsen as time wore on. Several members of the team (myself included- ‘nah nah na nah nah’- see, I told you so!) recommended that we should bat first and make the most of the sunny conditions, while they lasted. Others, however, suggested that we were at our best when chasing down a total, as the last two games had demonstrated. A borderline decision then… we would put our faith in another strong bowling performance, and hope that we would be chasing a smallish total.
So we take to the field, feeling pretty confident. After all, we’d dismissed the last two sides we’d played for 72 apiece. One concern, though, was how unusually close the boundary flags had been deployed, either side of the wicket; which seemed to be a good fifteen feet closer in than usual. This meant that little flicks or thick edges through the air (off someone of pace, like The Big ‘O’) would find their way to the boundary, even if they weren’t particularly well timed or middled.
And so the carnage began…. Five of us went for, close to or over, ten runs an over, while it was only Peter Clowes who bucked the trend by returning the excellent figures of 2/ 24 from his allotted four. The other wicket takers were Nick 1/ 21 (from two) and James 1/ 42 (from four).
Of course, there were the inevitable chances and half chances that were grassed, but the classic catch of the afternoon had to be Renners’ effort on the straight hit boundary. The ball had been struck high and handsome, and was travelling at a colossal rate of knots. Undaunted, Renners positions himself underneath, and bravely allows his chest to absorb the full impact, much like a mini trampoline. Ouch!!! You could actually hear the sound of the ball smashing into Rob’s sternum and then echo throughout the ground. With echoes still bouncing back from the neighbouring hills, the ball pops out but Rob has the presence of mind to gather it back for a miraculous catch. Nick was fielding close by and described it as the finest use of ‘man boobs’ he’d ever seen in the taking of a catch! Great commitment Renners and well done! (Yet another candidate in our growing list of nominees for ‘catch of the year’…)
For me, the champagne moment of the innings came when Nick Birtwistle (aka Captain Mechano) was brought on to bowl toward the end. “Are you sure you’re okay to bowl Nick?” “Are all the pop rivets still in place?” “Sure this is a wise move, twisting and contorting those tortured vertebrae of yours?” Nick only shrugs, takes the ball and proceeds to bowl the most exquisite over of legspin one could hope to see. It had turn. It had flight. It had drift. Beautiful length deliveries which bamboozled the batsmen and bang- Nick disturbs the furniture, returning figures of 1/ 2 off his first over. Quick! Someone check the obituaries!!! For that could be the only possible explanation. Was Nick, a guy who’d only bowled as a part timer, channelling the cricketing spirit of Shane Warne? Or could it be that the great Shane Warne had been brought in as a consultant in Nick’s wrist and back reconstruction? I don’t know what those canny Frenchmen did in that ten hour operation, but they seem to have created a kind of Frankenstein’s leg spinning monster… Nick’s next over went for 19 and he was bowling like a top order batsman again, but no-one bowls a first over like that without having potential. Is this the birth of Captain Mechano the all rounder? Only time will tell…
206 runs at an asking rate of 10.3 per over was always going to be a tough gig, but what made it virtually impossible was the dramatic change in match conditions. For a start, the light had appreciably deteriorated and the outfield had slowed down due to several brief but intense showers. (These showers would return at certain points throughout the innings and I can distinctly remember batting with the sound of rain pelting on my helmet, as if it were a piece of corrugated iron). Finally, the match ball had softened somewhat, making it doubly hard to get value for shots across the, now, wet outfield.
The psychological weight of chasing 206 told almost immediately, with Charles out for one, trying to smack a ball over the infield, but only succeeding in holing out to mid-on. So we’ve lost our first wicket with only a handful of runs on the board, and it’s Phil Green who joins Rob Rennison at the crease.
Phil and Renners combine for a useful little partnership, with Phil playing the anchor role and allowing Renners to go for his shots. Renners appears to be striking the ball well and makes a quick fire 19 (from 12 deliveries) before the finger is raised in a borderline lbw; from the ‘hutch’ it looked a little high, with the ball possibly going on to scrape the very top of the bails (if anything!).
And so with the score on 28/ 2, it’s Captain Mechano who strides to the middle. Nick ends up top scoring for the team with 27 (from 24 deliveries), and puts in a typical Nick innings of consummate patience; trying to adjust to the soggy conditions, refusing to be intimidated by the near impossible situation, while endeavouring to keep the run rate ticking over. During Nick’s stay in the middle he loses several partners. The first to go is Phil Green, caught out for 16, trying to break the shackles, and sending Captain Mechano desperately sprinting back to the non-striker’s end, where you could just about hear the pop rivets groaning under the stress! Phew! Double play avoided, but we’re now three down with the required run rate steadily creeping upwards.
The next man in is our ringer, Matt Whitley, on loan to us from Eight4Sport. Conscious of the rising run rate, Matt is bowled trying to launch a straight delivery into next week, and departs, having made a valiant 7 runs (from 8 deliveries).
The improbable is fast becoming the impossible, as yours truly takes guard. What’s the required run rate, I wonder, must be in the order of 18 runs an over by now. Nick and I put on about ten together, before Nick is bowled, playing around a delivery he intended to work into a gap.
Rob O’Keeffe joins me and we set about rallying and putting together a useful partnership; a couple of boundaries here and there, some well worked twos, not to mention some near suicidal singles! Eventually, it’s me who departs first, having fallen victim to the second contentious lbw of the day. Like so many of our batters, I was trying to work a straightish delivery square of the wicket, when the ball moved just enough off the seam to strike me on the pad. I personally felt the ball had moved sufficiently to take it down the leg side, but the man making the decisions disagreed, and I was on my way back to the pavilion, having made a run a ball 20.
With six wickets gone, we’re down to our final pairing, and that’s when it happened; an act of absolute infamy to rival Douglas Jardine’s Borderline, Trevor Chappell’s underarm or Safraz Nawaz’s appeal for Handled Ball. Peter Clowes strolls to the crease, strikes the ball for what should have been an easy single, but half way down the pitch he’s obviously in trouble. His back is gone and the poor man can hardly move. Like one of those half dead marathon runners you see periodically, who’ve had some terrible mishap during the course of the race (like being hit by a lorry), Pete comes limping home. If it were a marathon, we’d have forgotten about him by now, turned off the stadium lights and gone home. But grimacing with agony, every step a milestone of bravery and courage, Pete inches closer and closer… He’s no more than two centimetres from the popping crease now and one of the Real Neston boys, I don’t know which one, let’s call him Ming the Merciless, whips the bails off and runs him out, when possibly a handshake and a pat on the back would have been more fitting. Given the fact that we required about 40 runs a ball to win at this stage, it did seem a tad unsportsmanlike.
It’s just the big man now, Rob O’Keeffe, with the impossible task of scoring 103 runs off the last delivery, as last man standing. Given the futility of the situation, any sensible bloke would have either gone for the glory of a ‘homerun’ (Sorry, still hate that baseball term!!!) or concentrated on keeping the ball out to guarantee a personal not out score, but Rob works the ball for a gap and begins to run. Yes, RUN!!! There was only ever a single there, but Last Man Standing rules require an even score, so Rob has to come back for a second. (Knowing Rob, he was still probably trying to win! I can see it now - his cunning plan churning over in his head!!! “If I can get them to overthrow a hundred and one times to add to my original two, we can still get this- GAME ON!!!”) Unfortunately, Rob doesn’t even get the first single of his ‘cunning plan’ and he’s run out for 13 (from 11 deliveries).
It’s congratulations through somewhat gritted teeth, then, as we shake hands with the Ming contingent, who played a fairly ruthless brand of cricket. I told you it wasn’t pretty, and I did give you the option of not reading on. Not our finest hour, but there were a number of positives as well. We did manage to bat through our entire innings, in very difficult conditions, and never gave up the fight.
(by James Christensen)
After the stratospheric heights of twin victories in the recent ‘Super Sunday,’ came the crashing depths of a re-match against The Real Neston. For those readers of a certain squeamish disposition, I would advise you to proceed no further, as what follows is neither pretty nor nice; suffice it to say that we allowed an opposition to score 205 and then were bowled out for 103 in reply.
There you go- job done, end of story, stop reading…
Except, of course, you haven’t stopped reading- nor will you, until the whole sorry episode is laid bare, like an abandoned carcass set before a horde of baying hyenas… Oh you sad, sadistic, macabre people. What is it about the human psyche that derives such pleasure from tales of carnage and woe? Okay then, I’ll continue, but don’t say I didn’t warn you…
Our first mistake, believe it or not, was in winning the toss. The intermittent sunshine which shone at present was not to last- the dark clouds would gather steadily throughout the evening and the light would only worsen as time wore on. Several members of the team (myself included- ‘nah nah na nah nah’- see, I told you so!) recommended that we should bat first and make the most of the sunny conditions, while they lasted. Others, however, suggested that we were at our best when chasing down a total, as the last two games had demonstrated. A borderline decision then… we would put our faith in another strong bowling performance, and hope that we would be chasing a smallish total.
So we take to the field, feeling pretty confident. After all, we’d dismissed the last two sides we’d played for 72 apiece. One concern, though, was how unusually close the boundary flags had been deployed, either side of the wicket; which seemed to be a good fifteen feet closer in than usual. This meant that little flicks or thick edges through the air (off someone of pace, like The Big ‘O’) would find their way to the boundary, even if they weren’t particularly well timed or middled.
And so the carnage began…. Five of us went for, close to or over, ten runs an over, while it was only Peter Clowes who bucked the trend by returning the excellent figures of 2/ 24 from his allotted four. The other wicket takers were Nick 1/ 21 (from two) and James 1/ 42 (from four).
Of course, there were the inevitable chances and half chances that were grassed, but the classic catch of the afternoon had to be Renners’ effort on the straight hit boundary. The ball had been struck high and handsome, and was travelling at a colossal rate of knots. Undaunted, Renners positions himself underneath, and bravely allows his chest to absorb the full impact, much like a mini trampoline. Ouch!!! You could actually hear the sound of the ball smashing into Rob’s sternum and then echo throughout the ground. With echoes still bouncing back from the neighbouring hills, the ball pops out but Rob has the presence of mind to gather it back for a miraculous catch. Nick was fielding close by and described it as the finest use of ‘man boobs’ he’d ever seen in the taking of a catch! Great commitment Renners and well done! (Yet another candidate in our growing list of nominees for ‘catch of the year’…)
For me, the champagne moment of the innings came when Nick Birtwistle (aka Captain Mechano) was brought on to bowl toward the end. “Are you sure you’re okay to bowl Nick?” “Are all the pop rivets still in place?” “Sure this is a wise move, twisting and contorting those tortured vertebrae of yours?” Nick only shrugs, takes the ball and proceeds to bowl the most exquisite over of legspin one could hope to see. It had turn. It had flight. It had drift. Beautiful length deliveries which bamboozled the batsmen and bang- Nick disturbs the furniture, returning figures of 1/ 2 off his first over. Quick! Someone check the obituaries!!! For that could be the only possible explanation. Was Nick, a guy who’d only bowled as a part timer, channelling the cricketing spirit of Shane Warne? Or could it be that the great Shane Warne had been brought in as a consultant in Nick’s wrist and back reconstruction? I don’t know what those canny Frenchmen did in that ten hour operation, but they seem to have created a kind of Frankenstein’s leg spinning monster… Nick’s next over went for 19 and he was bowling like a top order batsman again, but no-one bowls a first over like that without having potential. Is this the birth of Captain Mechano the all rounder? Only time will tell…
206 runs at an asking rate of 10.3 per over was always going to be a tough gig, but what made it virtually impossible was the dramatic change in match conditions. For a start, the light had appreciably deteriorated and the outfield had slowed down due to several brief but intense showers. (These showers would return at certain points throughout the innings and I can distinctly remember batting with the sound of rain pelting on my helmet, as if it were a piece of corrugated iron). Finally, the match ball had softened somewhat, making it doubly hard to get value for shots across the, now, wet outfield.
The psychological weight of chasing 206 told almost immediately, with Charles out for one, trying to smack a ball over the infield, but only succeeding in holing out to mid-on. So we’ve lost our first wicket with only a handful of runs on the board, and it’s Phil Green who joins Rob Rennison at the crease.
Phil and Renners combine for a useful little partnership, with Phil playing the anchor role and allowing Renners to go for his shots. Renners appears to be striking the ball well and makes a quick fire 19 (from 12 deliveries) before the finger is raised in a borderline lbw; from the ‘hutch’ it looked a little high, with the ball possibly going on to scrape the very top of the bails (if anything!).
And so with the score on 28/ 2, it’s Captain Mechano who strides to the middle. Nick ends up top scoring for the team with 27 (from 24 deliveries), and puts in a typical Nick innings of consummate patience; trying to adjust to the soggy conditions, refusing to be intimidated by the near impossible situation, while endeavouring to keep the run rate ticking over. During Nick’s stay in the middle he loses several partners. The first to go is Phil Green, caught out for 16, trying to break the shackles, and sending Captain Mechano desperately sprinting back to the non-striker’s end, where you could just about hear the pop rivets groaning under the stress! Phew! Double play avoided, but we’re now three down with the required run rate steadily creeping upwards.
The next man in is our ringer, Matt Whitley, on loan to us from Eight4Sport. Conscious of the rising run rate, Matt is bowled trying to launch a straight delivery into next week, and departs, having made a valiant 7 runs (from 8 deliveries).
The improbable is fast becoming the impossible, as yours truly takes guard. What’s the required run rate, I wonder, must be in the order of 18 runs an over by now. Nick and I put on about ten together, before Nick is bowled, playing around a delivery he intended to work into a gap.
Rob O’Keeffe joins me and we set about rallying and putting together a useful partnership; a couple of boundaries here and there, some well worked twos, not to mention some near suicidal singles! Eventually, it’s me who departs first, having fallen victim to the second contentious lbw of the day. Like so many of our batters, I was trying to work a straightish delivery square of the wicket, when the ball moved just enough off the seam to strike me on the pad. I personally felt the ball had moved sufficiently to take it down the leg side, but the man making the decisions disagreed, and I was on my way back to the pavilion, having made a run a ball 20.
With six wickets gone, we’re down to our final pairing, and that’s when it happened; an act of absolute infamy to rival Douglas Jardine’s Borderline, Trevor Chappell’s underarm or Safraz Nawaz’s appeal for Handled Ball. Peter Clowes strolls to the crease, strikes the ball for what should have been an easy single, but half way down the pitch he’s obviously in trouble. His back is gone and the poor man can hardly move. Like one of those half dead marathon runners you see periodically, who’ve had some terrible mishap during the course of the race (like being hit by a lorry), Pete comes limping home. If it were a marathon, we’d have forgotten about him by now, turned off the stadium lights and gone home. But grimacing with agony, every step a milestone of bravery and courage, Pete inches closer and closer… He’s no more than two centimetres from the popping crease now and one of the Real Neston boys, I don’t know which one, let’s call him Ming the Merciless, whips the bails off and runs him out, when possibly a handshake and a pat on the back would have been more fitting. Given the fact that we required about 40 runs a ball to win at this stage, it did seem a tad unsportsmanlike.
It’s just the big man now, Rob O’Keeffe, with the impossible task of scoring 103 runs off the last delivery, as last man standing. Given the futility of the situation, any sensible bloke would have either gone for the glory of a ‘homerun’ (Sorry, still hate that baseball term!!!) or concentrated on keeping the ball out to guarantee a personal not out score, but Rob works the ball for a gap and begins to run. Yes, RUN!!! There was only ever a single there, but Last Man Standing rules require an even score, so Rob has to come back for a second. (Knowing Rob, he was still probably trying to win! I can see it now - his cunning plan churning over in his head!!! “If I can get them to overthrow a hundred and one times to add to my original two, we can still get this- GAME ON!!!”) Unfortunately, Rob doesn’t even get the first single of his ‘cunning plan’ and he’s run out for 13 (from 11 deliveries).
It’s congratulations through somewhat gritted teeth, then, as we shake hands with the Ming contingent, who played a fairly ruthless brand of cricket. I told you it wasn’t pretty, and I did give you the option of not reading on. Not our finest hour, but there were a number of positives as well. We did manage to bat through our entire innings, in very difficult conditions, and never gave up the fight.
Tuesday, 17 July 2012
Season Two: Double Header Glory, 24th June, 2012
(written by James Christensen)
The Greasby Roaders arrived in their usual dribs and drabs, but, somehow, there was already a different feel in the air. For one, it was 2:15 on a Sunday afternoon, and not 6:30 pm on a hectic week night. People were relaxed. There was no-one frantically swapping suit trousers for cricket whites twenty seconds before the match started. For another, we’d be playing not one but two matches today, a genuine double header; the first against Nick Corcoran’s Eight4Sport lads and the second against Jonathan Hughes’ The Googlies.) That feeling in the air though- what was it? Looking back, I’d say it was expectation mixed with a good dose of optimism, or maybe it was just the joy of being out of the house, on a nice day, with your mates. Who knows, but if change is as good as a holiday, could it also be good for a reversal of fortune?
The Drought Breaker. (Season Two, Game Six.)
First match of the day is on WCC3 against Corky’s boys. Crikey, we haven’t played on this pitch since last year, but we immediately feel at home and that old ‘winning feeling’ starts seeping back into our bones, much like the rare and welcome sunshine on our faces, in what has otherwise been a rain sodden, and, at times, miserable season.
So the game begins and we’re fielding. The opening bowlers, big man Rob O’Keeffe and Peter Clowes, keep things as tight as the proverbial duck’s… err… tail feather region, allowing the skipper, Stephen Willett, to set an aggressive field, which remains pretty much unchanged throughout the entire innings. Good pressurised bowling and an alert field keep the wickets tumbling at a steady pace. Team Greasby Roaders finally seems like its ticking over like the well oiled machine it was at the end of last season, and we’re feeling unstoppable… Skipper Steve bags three wickets, Monty two, with one apiece going to the ‘Big O’, Renners and yours truly. (Clowesy was the unlucky bowler to miss out on a wicket, but was instrumental in keeping the pressure up and bowled three overs for a miserly 10 runs.) Charles continued his superb form with the gloves by effecting a smart stumping, while special mention must go to Phil Green who was on fire in the field, snatching two great catches and stopping anything that came within cooey of him. (Steve, that classic catch number one spot of yours might be in danger mate, and, best part, he took them FOR us…) In the end, Corky’s boys are bowled out for 72 off their allotted twenty. So the equation, gentlemen, is 73 runs required at a meagre asking rate of 3.65 an over. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?
I don’t know where he got them from, but Corky has managed to find two blokes to open his bowling who are at least a yard and a half quicker than anyone else we’ve seen this year; fast, straight, stump to stump, alternating between just short of a good length and yorkers. Bloody hard to get away and we’re struggling. Opener Phil G is the first to go, bowled for one off two, while opener Monty sees his furniture upended, scoring four from eight. Yours truly came in at number three and had seen Monty depart from the non-striker’s end. “No need to panic James. No need to panic. Lots of time…” The big man Rob O’Keeffe joins me at the crease and we hatch a cunning plan… If I can rotate the strike and let the big man go for the boundaries we might be able to steady the ship and break their rhythm- or at least see them out; after all, their opening spells can’t last forever! Great idea in theory… I end up being caught out for six trying to hit the ball over the tallest Eight4Sport fielder I could find, who takes a brilliant, jumping, one handed, juggling catch that, cruelly, looked like it had cleared him. Thankfully, Rob O does end up steadying things, making a valuable 20 run contribution from 21 deliveries in a useful partnership with the skipper, before he’s run out in a suicidal call for a quick single. (A borderline call which might well have justified a referral to a third umpire- if we had one- but it’s a Willett officiating, and there’s no hesitation in the finger being raised! Thanks for that one Seany!)
Hey, no need to panic afresh just yet though… Stephen Willett looks set, with twenty odd runs to his name, and he’s just been joined in the middle by the ever dependable Clowsey, with in-form Charles Pickering and big hitting Rob Rennison to come.
As if sensing it’s time for a last throw of the dice, the Eight4Sport skipper brings back his two strike bowlers with immediate results. Clowesey is caught out for two, while Charles returns to the ‘hutch,’ furniture knocked over, without troubling the scorer. Suddenly, what had been mild concern gives way to fully fledged apprehension- surely, SURELY we’re not going to throw this one away! Not after working so hard!!!
We know that overs are not an issue. There’s still six or so to be bowled. How many runs left to get though? Blank faces within the hutch- surely can’t be more than 12 or 15. Okay then, let’s say 15 runs, with two wickets left- shouldn’t be a drama. And then the unthinkable happens- the howler! Renners is adjudged lbw playing well forward, ball striking front pad on the top of the roll, and accompanied by a loud, wooden noise that everyone seemed to hear except the man that mattered the most; the umpire. So a somewhat aggrieved Rob Rennison trudges back to the ‘hutch,’ while any children within ear shot are told to quickly cover their ears, and it’s all up to that man again- Stephen Willett; last man standing extraordinaire…
Let’s see. Renners made five, leaving Steve about nine to score from about four and a bit overs. The Eight4Sport boys are sensing an upset here, but they know they’ve got to get this last wicket- too many deliveries left to bowl to hope to win through containment. They’ve used up their best bowlers and it’s their lesser lights who are going to have to save the day. But Steve is coolness personified. He keeps his head down and waits for the loose deliveries. A few dot balls while we hold our breath, then THWACK, it’s a lofted four, just bouncing inside the rope. Six runs to get…. Next, it’s a cleverly worked two, as Steve opens the face of the bat, and glides it into a gap. A dot ball. Another dot ball. An uncharacteristic rush of blood; a swoosh of air and another dot ball, but Steve’s still there. Then finally, gloriously, the loose ball that Steve had been waiting for… THWACK- off the meat of the bat and the ball is launched over the long off boundary for the winning runs and our first victory of the season.
In the end, it’s a one wicket victory with 2.2 overs to spare. Smiles all around and commiserations to Corky’s lads, who almost pulled off a brilliant upset, and gave us a corker of a game that was enjoyed by all. I think Clowesey summed it up the best when he said that it was a game where everyone contributed in some way, whether bowling, fielding, keeping or batting. Well done lads, a stirring victory for the team! Let the cricket world be advised, we are well and truly back in business!
The Encore. (Season Two, Game Seven.)
There’s not much time to enjoy the fruits of victory, before it’s off to the adjacent ground, WCC2, for the second match of our double header; this time against The Googlies, led by their illustrious maestro and choreographer Jonathan Hughes (aka ‘the dancer,’ aka ‘the prancer’, the LMS Prima Donna and, rumour has it, one time Lois Spence stunt double… Yes dear Yozza, your reputation has indeed preceded you!) (Or, at least, was tipped off to us just prior to the writing of this report!!!)
For the second match, we have a slight change in personnel, waving off Monty and Phil G from the first game, and welcoming back Graham Wild and Nick Birtwistle for the second. Yes, Roaders aficionados, you read correctly, the much anticipated return of NICK BIRTWISTLE was about to happen, after he’d wrestled with the laws of physics and… err… lost. BIG TIME!
The interesting thing about this second encounter was that, for both teams, it constituted the second game of a double header; with our respective adversaries from the first matches playing just the one. The big difference, of course, is that we were coming straight from a rousing victory, while The Googlies still had the taste of a 63 run defeat in their mouths, at the hands of Double Bubble.
Undoubtedly, the libretto the Googlies were hastily constructing in their heads would see them resurrect their afternoon with a face saving win over the Roaders. By comparison, we already had a title, ‘Winning is Grinning,’ a script and a fully rehearsed orchestra at our disposal!
The Googlies bat first and immediately they’re in trouble. Rob O’Keeffe and Peter Clowes both take a wicket in their first overs, while Steve Willett effects a sharp run out with a one movement, pick up and shy at the stumps from cover. So, with a score line which reads three down for not many runs, it’s the Maestro himself who strides to the crease; a look of dogged determination etched across his face. If anyone can choreograph a recovery, then surely it’s the Yozza; an experienced campaigner and genuine all rounder, with three half centuries to his name and a swag of wickets under his belt. Like a pro, he has a good look at the first ball and assesses the bowler and the pace of the pitch, but the second delivery seems to stop on Yozza and before he can contain his grand battement à la seconde (sideways step), he hits it straight down the throat of mid off. Sadly, Yozza’s innings may have ended in a silver duck, but for ballet fans, there were still a few choice dance moves to savour. My personal favourite was the Lois Spence inspired flounce of the bat, perfectly evoking all the subtle nuances of self-recrimination and frustration that one inevitably feels, after having thrown away ones wicket. Still others may have preferred the pirouette back to the pavilion; a study of elegance in dejection. I wanted to cry. I wanted to applaud. Was I the only one who was appreciating the work of this true artiste, this batsman come dancer if you will? Err… probably….
To put it simply, the Roaders were in blistering form in the field, with Peter, James, Rob O, Graham and Steve all picking up wickets. Lovely glove work again from Charles (picking up another catch from my leg spin), and dynamite, ‘sharp as a tack’ fielding from everyone, especially Steve, who has shown a real talent for throwing down the stumps from side on.
The proverbial fat lady, by now, had finished her warm up scales and was awaiting the conductor’s final tap of the baton, before opening her lungs into a full throttle opera of Wagnerian proportions.
After exactly 16 overs, The Googlies are bundled out for 72. Now, if you’re thinking that figure sounds eerily familiar, you’d be right. It’s the exact same score we bowled Eight4Sport out for, just a few hours earlier. So once again, it’s 73 required at a modest asking rate of 3.65 an over.
For this assault on a 73 target, we open with the tried and true combination of Graham Wild and Rob Rennison; the ‘bro-mance’ of the Greasby Roaders and two men who claim to have an almost telepathic understanding in their running between wickets…
And with the score on two, it’s Graham Wild walking back to the ‘hutch,’ run out (by his partner) for one, after facing just three deliveries. So much for the telepathy boys, but more importantly, is this the end of a beautiful bro-mance?
Coming in at first drop is Nick Birtwistle; his first foray at the crease this season. In the field, Nick had moved gingerly but with purpose, and we all held our collective breath whenever Nick bent, ran or threw a ball back to the keeper. Just when would the pop rivets begin to, well, pop we asked ourselves? Is Nick asking too much, too soon of his poor, battered body?
Nick answered our concerns with a well compiled 34 runs (off just 33 balls) in an innings which steadied the ship and set up an emphatic victory. It was classic Nick- the calmness, the thoughtfulness, that great cricketing brain of his churning over. It does have to be said that he did look a little more buggered in the end than he normally does, and when he finally holed out, it was probably more due to tiredness than anything else. So well done Nick! All in all, a great return mate. And well supported by Renners, who contributed 20 (from 26), making up for his earlier run out of Graham. (Although to rescue that Bro-mance, you may have to do a little more Rob!)
While we were watching Nick at work, there was some discussion that a new nick name might be in order. First suggestion was the ‘Six Million Dollar Man’- after all, he had been rebuilt in a sense, and had the screws still showing in his arm to prove it! A rash shot, just falling short of the field, and an effort to get out of the starting blocks like a seized up tin man, had us de-value our original assessment to the ‘Six Euro Man.’ (The surgeons were French after all!) Then it became Mechano man, and finally, rather fittingly for a return of superhero stature, Captain Mechano.
The winning runs were notched up by Charles Pickering (11*) and Steve Willett (7*) with two overs and five wickets to spare; about as comfortable a win as one could hope for in LMS cricket.
And thus it ended- our first Super Sunday- made all the more pleasurable by the double victory and the fact that all of our players were Roaders through and through.
The Greasby Roaders arrived in their usual dribs and drabs, but, somehow, there was already a different feel in the air. For one, it was 2:15 on a Sunday afternoon, and not 6:30 pm on a hectic week night. People were relaxed. There was no-one frantically swapping suit trousers for cricket whites twenty seconds before the match started. For another, we’d be playing not one but two matches today, a genuine double header; the first against Nick Corcoran’s Eight4Sport lads and the second against Jonathan Hughes’ The Googlies.) That feeling in the air though- what was it? Looking back, I’d say it was expectation mixed with a good dose of optimism, or maybe it was just the joy of being out of the house, on a nice day, with your mates. Who knows, but if change is as good as a holiday, could it also be good for a reversal of fortune?
The Drought Breaker. (Season Two, Game Six.)
First match of the day is on WCC3 against Corky’s boys. Crikey, we haven’t played on this pitch since last year, but we immediately feel at home and that old ‘winning feeling’ starts seeping back into our bones, much like the rare and welcome sunshine on our faces, in what has otherwise been a rain sodden, and, at times, miserable season.
So the game begins and we’re fielding. The opening bowlers, big man Rob O’Keeffe and Peter Clowes, keep things as tight as the proverbial duck’s… err… tail feather region, allowing the skipper, Stephen Willett, to set an aggressive field, which remains pretty much unchanged throughout the entire innings. Good pressurised bowling and an alert field keep the wickets tumbling at a steady pace. Team Greasby Roaders finally seems like its ticking over like the well oiled machine it was at the end of last season, and we’re feeling unstoppable… Skipper Steve bags three wickets, Monty two, with one apiece going to the ‘Big O’, Renners and yours truly. (Clowesy was the unlucky bowler to miss out on a wicket, but was instrumental in keeping the pressure up and bowled three overs for a miserly 10 runs.) Charles continued his superb form with the gloves by effecting a smart stumping, while special mention must go to Phil Green who was on fire in the field, snatching two great catches and stopping anything that came within cooey of him. (Steve, that classic catch number one spot of yours might be in danger mate, and, best part, he took them FOR us…) In the end, Corky’s boys are bowled out for 72 off their allotted twenty. So the equation, gentlemen, is 73 runs required at a meagre asking rate of 3.65 an over. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?
I don’t know where he got them from, but Corky has managed to find two blokes to open his bowling who are at least a yard and a half quicker than anyone else we’ve seen this year; fast, straight, stump to stump, alternating between just short of a good length and yorkers. Bloody hard to get away and we’re struggling. Opener Phil G is the first to go, bowled for one off two, while opener Monty sees his furniture upended, scoring four from eight. Yours truly came in at number three and had seen Monty depart from the non-striker’s end. “No need to panic James. No need to panic. Lots of time…” The big man Rob O’Keeffe joins me at the crease and we hatch a cunning plan… If I can rotate the strike and let the big man go for the boundaries we might be able to steady the ship and break their rhythm- or at least see them out; after all, their opening spells can’t last forever! Great idea in theory… I end up being caught out for six trying to hit the ball over the tallest Eight4Sport fielder I could find, who takes a brilliant, jumping, one handed, juggling catch that, cruelly, looked like it had cleared him. Thankfully, Rob O does end up steadying things, making a valuable 20 run contribution from 21 deliveries in a useful partnership with the skipper, before he’s run out in a suicidal call for a quick single. (A borderline call which might well have justified a referral to a third umpire- if we had one- but it’s a Willett officiating, and there’s no hesitation in the finger being raised! Thanks for that one Seany!)
Hey, no need to panic afresh just yet though… Stephen Willett looks set, with twenty odd runs to his name, and he’s just been joined in the middle by the ever dependable Clowsey, with in-form Charles Pickering and big hitting Rob Rennison to come.
As if sensing it’s time for a last throw of the dice, the Eight4Sport skipper brings back his two strike bowlers with immediate results. Clowesey is caught out for two, while Charles returns to the ‘hutch,’ furniture knocked over, without troubling the scorer. Suddenly, what had been mild concern gives way to fully fledged apprehension- surely, SURELY we’re not going to throw this one away! Not after working so hard!!!
We know that overs are not an issue. There’s still six or so to be bowled. How many runs left to get though? Blank faces within the hutch- surely can’t be more than 12 or 15. Okay then, let’s say 15 runs, with two wickets left- shouldn’t be a drama. And then the unthinkable happens- the howler! Renners is adjudged lbw playing well forward, ball striking front pad on the top of the roll, and accompanied by a loud, wooden noise that everyone seemed to hear except the man that mattered the most; the umpire. So a somewhat aggrieved Rob Rennison trudges back to the ‘hutch,’ while any children within ear shot are told to quickly cover their ears, and it’s all up to that man again- Stephen Willett; last man standing extraordinaire…
Let’s see. Renners made five, leaving Steve about nine to score from about four and a bit overs. The Eight4Sport boys are sensing an upset here, but they know they’ve got to get this last wicket- too many deliveries left to bowl to hope to win through containment. They’ve used up their best bowlers and it’s their lesser lights who are going to have to save the day. But Steve is coolness personified. He keeps his head down and waits for the loose deliveries. A few dot balls while we hold our breath, then THWACK, it’s a lofted four, just bouncing inside the rope. Six runs to get…. Next, it’s a cleverly worked two, as Steve opens the face of the bat, and glides it into a gap. A dot ball. Another dot ball. An uncharacteristic rush of blood; a swoosh of air and another dot ball, but Steve’s still there. Then finally, gloriously, the loose ball that Steve had been waiting for… THWACK- off the meat of the bat and the ball is launched over the long off boundary for the winning runs and our first victory of the season.
In the end, it’s a one wicket victory with 2.2 overs to spare. Smiles all around and commiserations to Corky’s lads, who almost pulled off a brilliant upset, and gave us a corker of a game that was enjoyed by all. I think Clowesey summed it up the best when he said that it was a game where everyone contributed in some way, whether bowling, fielding, keeping or batting. Well done lads, a stirring victory for the team! Let the cricket world be advised, we are well and truly back in business!
The Encore. (Season Two, Game Seven.)
There’s not much time to enjoy the fruits of victory, before it’s off to the adjacent ground, WCC2, for the second match of our double header; this time against The Googlies, led by their illustrious maestro and choreographer Jonathan Hughes (aka ‘the dancer,’ aka ‘the prancer’, the LMS Prima Donna and, rumour has it, one time Lois Spence stunt double… Yes dear Yozza, your reputation has indeed preceded you!) (Or, at least, was tipped off to us just prior to the writing of this report!!!)
For the second match, we have a slight change in personnel, waving off Monty and Phil G from the first game, and welcoming back Graham Wild and Nick Birtwistle for the second. Yes, Roaders aficionados, you read correctly, the much anticipated return of NICK BIRTWISTLE was about to happen, after he’d wrestled with the laws of physics and… err… lost. BIG TIME!
The interesting thing about this second encounter was that, for both teams, it constituted the second game of a double header; with our respective adversaries from the first matches playing just the one. The big difference, of course, is that we were coming straight from a rousing victory, while The Googlies still had the taste of a 63 run defeat in their mouths, at the hands of Double Bubble.
Undoubtedly, the libretto the Googlies were hastily constructing in their heads would see them resurrect their afternoon with a face saving win over the Roaders. By comparison, we already had a title, ‘Winning is Grinning,’ a script and a fully rehearsed orchestra at our disposal!
The Googlies bat first and immediately they’re in trouble. Rob O’Keeffe and Peter Clowes both take a wicket in their first overs, while Steve Willett effects a sharp run out with a one movement, pick up and shy at the stumps from cover. So, with a score line which reads three down for not many runs, it’s the Maestro himself who strides to the crease; a look of dogged determination etched across his face. If anyone can choreograph a recovery, then surely it’s the Yozza; an experienced campaigner and genuine all rounder, with three half centuries to his name and a swag of wickets under his belt. Like a pro, he has a good look at the first ball and assesses the bowler and the pace of the pitch, but the second delivery seems to stop on Yozza and before he can contain his grand battement à la seconde (sideways step), he hits it straight down the throat of mid off. Sadly, Yozza’s innings may have ended in a silver duck, but for ballet fans, there were still a few choice dance moves to savour. My personal favourite was the Lois Spence inspired flounce of the bat, perfectly evoking all the subtle nuances of self-recrimination and frustration that one inevitably feels, after having thrown away ones wicket. Still others may have preferred the pirouette back to the pavilion; a study of elegance in dejection. I wanted to cry. I wanted to applaud. Was I the only one who was appreciating the work of this true artiste, this batsman come dancer if you will? Err… probably….
To put it simply, the Roaders were in blistering form in the field, with Peter, James, Rob O, Graham and Steve all picking up wickets. Lovely glove work again from Charles (picking up another catch from my leg spin), and dynamite, ‘sharp as a tack’ fielding from everyone, especially Steve, who has shown a real talent for throwing down the stumps from side on.
The proverbial fat lady, by now, had finished her warm up scales and was awaiting the conductor’s final tap of the baton, before opening her lungs into a full throttle opera of Wagnerian proportions.
After exactly 16 overs, The Googlies are bundled out for 72. Now, if you’re thinking that figure sounds eerily familiar, you’d be right. It’s the exact same score we bowled Eight4Sport out for, just a few hours earlier. So once again, it’s 73 required at a modest asking rate of 3.65 an over.
For this assault on a 73 target, we open with the tried and true combination of Graham Wild and Rob Rennison; the ‘bro-mance’ of the Greasby Roaders and two men who claim to have an almost telepathic understanding in their running between wickets…
And with the score on two, it’s Graham Wild walking back to the ‘hutch,’ run out (by his partner) for one, after facing just three deliveries. So much for the telepathy boys, but more importantly, is this the end of a beautiful bro-mance?
Coming in at first drop is Nick Birtwistle; his first foray at the crease this season. In the field, Nick had moved gingerly but with purpose, and we all held our collective breath whenever Nick bent, ran or threw a ball back to the keeper. Just when would the pop rivets begin to, well, pop we asked ourselves? Is Nick asking too much, too soon of his poor, battered body?
Nick answered our concerns with a well compiled 34 runs (off just 33 balls) in an innings which steadied the ship and set up an emphatic victory. It was classic Nick- the calmness, the thoughtfulness, that great cricketing brain of his churning over. It does have to be said that he did look a little more buggered in the end than he normally does, and when he finally holed out, it was probably more due to tiredness than anything else. So well done Nick! All in all, a great return mate. And well supported by Renners, who contributed 20 (from 26), making up for his earlier run out of Graham. (Although to rescue that Bro-mance, you may have to do a little more Rob!)
While we were watching Nick at work, there was some discussion that a new nick name might be in order. First suggestion was the ‘Six Million Dollar Man’- after all, he had been rebuilt in a sense, and had the screws still showing in his arm to prove it! A rash shot, just falling short of the field, and an effort to get out of the starting blocks like a seized up tin man, had us de-value our original assessment to the ‘Six Euro Man.’ (The surgeons were French after all!) Then it became Mechano man, and finally, rather fittingly for a return of superhero stature, Captain Mechano.
The winning runs were notched up by Charles Pickering (11*) and Steve Willett (7*) with two overs and five wickets to spare; about as comfortable a win as one could hope for in LMS cricket.
And thus it ended- our first Super Sunday- made all the more pleasurable by the double victory and the fact that all of our players were Roaders through and through.
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