The Warriors at Hoveringham

Found myself playing at rather too high a standard today, subbed up into the second team due to a lack of players in the club today. Everyone is on holiday today, or working, or on a Virgin Galactic flight to Mars for all I know.

What it did mean was that I got to play at a lovely ground at Hoveringham, with the pub on the boundary supplying tea, a paddock filled with insect attracting thistles, and house martins swooping about looking for food.

Low fields of wheat surrounded the ground on two sides, giving the illusion that the ground was some kind of "Field of Dreams" for very short old cricketers. Perhaps the disgraced Hansie Cronje would walk out of the corn in the manner of Shoeless Joe Jackson, and bring a few players with him; Jack Hobbs maybe, or Don Bradman. We certainly could have  done with them, as we only had ten men under today's skipper, the Love God.

We batted first, and while I photographed bees in the lovely wild paddock, or operated the boingy scoreboard, trying to flip bits of elasticated plastic about to make recognisable numbers. We started well, continued well and finished ok thanks to our straight batting opener, who made 57 not out. I went out to bat with him, snicked my first ball for a single with 4 left in the innings to give him the strike as instructed - and he missed every ball. Oh well, he can be forgiven for that.

Batting first of course means no tea enjoyment, but no 8 stone weight gain. But I was hoping to be a bit more mobile  in the field today, felt a bit less stiff. Of course, being more mobile didn't mean I'd be any less clumsy.

With 167 on the scoreboard, we fancied our chances and indeed  we started pretty well - our very  bulky and quick 2nd team opening bowler removed one opener before the wides started creeping in; by way of contrast our other opener is 15 and a third of the weight but doesn't spray it around as much. He took a wicket too.

Then it was my turn. Being average at best, I'm always a bit nervous about bowling at second team level, but I started ok, swung the ball in the breeze, and had a catch missed. However, that was soon made up for, and I had a wicket as well.

Unfortunately this brought the Hoveringham skipper to the crease, a rather powerful hitter. It took him a while to get going - I bowled well at him to start with - but when he did, the boundaries flowed. I kept beating the edge of his bat, but he wouldn't nick the bloody ball, and eventually he took me for 14 in an over and I was off. Everyone was bored of looking for the ball in the corn.

He didn't like the rather cheeky run out we did of his partner, but it was out! No ball doesn't mean dead ball! This probably spurred him into hitting the ball into a posh garden next to the ground, and that was it really.

As ever, defeat bites, but only for a short time. Not like last week...

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 16.06.18