Finally Defeated

 Sunday's game saw us at home to Chillwell, AKA the self proclaimed "Chilly Boyz", a Nottingham based team who we played over at their council run ground a couple of years ago in a dramatic game that was my first victory as captain. Ever. 

We had struggled to get a side out, but our third team captain used his connections with the university baseball club "The Thieves" to bring in four of the guys who had played us a few years ago. Including all the really good ones. 

Finally, it was a warm day again, a day to reach for the spray on sunscreen and have extra drinks bottles and watch the insects feed off the bramble flowers. The buzzards were on the wing, but we never seem to have swallows visiting the ground any more, which is sad. 

My co-captain went out with strict instructions to bat first, which of course meant he lost the toss and had us fielding in the heat in this  - mercifully - 35 over game. 

The Chilwell lads, who were a nice bunch, went into bat and we quickly had them in trouble, with our guest opening bowler getting in the wickets along with our own resident swing specialist. There was a messy run out too, before the Luxembourg international came on with his rapid and unhittable off spin to pick up a wicket for himself, while our own left handed youngster had another batter caught at slip. 

At 60 odd for 5 they in a spot of bother, so, as ever in these situations, the decision was made to bring myself on, the old "open up the game" tactic. I found myself bowling to the Chilwell captain and their wicket keeper, a well known figure in local critic due to his resemblance to Donald Trump and the Hannibal Lector mask he keeps wicket it, as well as his Alan Patridge like calls of "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" when he goes for a run. 

He is not a very good batsman, and I was trying everything to get him out. And failing. His partner, who ended up with 67, hit me for four but I had him stone dead LBW, which their umpire turned down. Grrrrrr.

He was also dropped by one of our younger players, who fearlessly went for the catch off a hard hit, and ended up not only cutting his finger but dislocating it, removing the poor chap from the match. 

Chilwell closed on 169 for 7, which seemed daunting but gettable on what was a very flat deck. 

Indeed, we started well. With myself umpiring, I got to see why the Luxembourg international is, ahem, an international. He made batting look ridiculously easy, always seemed to have so much time to play the ball, and nearly wiped me out when hitting a straight four that went like a rocket. 

"Thanks" as I said drily, as I picked myself and my straw hat off the floor. 

I was amazed when he got out for 40. 

After that, we started to struggle a bit. Chilwell are a bit stronger than the teams we normally play on a Sunday, with a mix of first and second teamers, and bowlers skilled in moving the ball around. Alas, I had to give a couple of LBWs - they were indeed out - which upset the third team captain before he was surprised by a bouncer that came out of nowhere. 

A spot of gentle pad hitting and bat throwing then followed. 

Batting at ten, I went out there with 50 or so needed, determined to make a better first of it than yesterday. I took guard, and then had a total sense of panic as the bowler gently ambled in. 

Middle stump wiped out. First ball. Again. I am so utterly hopeless I can scarcely believe it. 

Three balls later the match was over, and I had a King Pair for my weekends work. Our first Sunday defeat of the season. 

Grrrr.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 04.06.24