An Old School Cricket Story

 Last Sunday we entertained our friends from Cropwell, a very nice bunch of lads who are big fans of bashing the ball hard and playing nice short 30 over games before retiring to the bar for a well earned couple of beers. 

Things were looking awkward for us as we only had nine players as we assembled at Kelham Road on a fine afternoon. However, a young lad, a major superfan and under 15s wicket keeper, was at the ground. He is desperate to play, but he is still "officially" too young to play senior hard ball cricket. 

However, things are slightly different on a Sunday, and on asking him if he fancied a game, and a quick call to get his kit driven over and for me to assure his family that Cropwell were a gentle team who had no bowlers who could kill him, he was in. 

I promptly lost the toss, and as feared, Cropwell decided to bat, where their big gun opening bat who has never failed to score 50 against us took to the middle, and with his partner, proceeded to wallop our bowling all over the park, with particular attention to the straight boundaries. 

I think they raised the 100 after about 11 overs. The chairman had a bowl, and finding no luck with his usual seam up stuff, decided to have a crack with his "sunday off spin" - actually googlies - but this resulted in more boundary peppering, although admittedly our fielding wasn't the best at times and we were a player down. The chief basher had got to his 50, but he was then replaced by another one.

Luckily, we had an old hand whose controlled medium pace I had decided was the right tactical move - that's one thing I've got right this year then - and he took three wickets with considerable skill. 

He knows exactly how quickly he is going to bowl, and exactly where the ball will land, which is entirely beyond my pay grade in this game. Our young guest, meanwhile, had taken over wicket keeping duties and was doing a stellar job, which augurs well for the third team next year, 

I had come on to bowl at this point, and was doing ok if not spectacularly, wickets, once again, evaded me, That was all happening at the other end, where the young second team opening bat was now proving highly effective with his rarely bowled off spin. 

Damn, they all make it look so easy.

So they closed on 199. 

Our innings did not start well, and we found ourselves in a very unwell looking position of about 40 for 5. However, the chairman, in conjunction with our young guest, proceeded to batter a fine 50 before the enforced retirement, a sort of "Sleep" in "Logan's Run" for batters in friendly games. 

The wicket by now was being rather tricky, so well done to them for scoring runs. It was very heartening for the young player's grandfather arrive in time to see him hook a head high beamer for four. 

I did get to have a little bat, I say little, I batted for 10 overs to score 13 not out. Lluckily for the watchers, the entertainment was coming from the other end. 

We lost, but it been all good fun.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 23.08.24

More Photo Diving - Bumbles and Butterflies

 Well, as the amount of wildflowers out there diminishes as autumn prepares to drape its rust and gold wings over the land, there has nonetheless been some hot days that have brought pollinators out to coralberry, marigold and coreopsis at work and at the park. 

Butterflies have been in desperately short supply this summer, and now that the meadow browns, ringlet and gatekeepers there is very little out there. My own buddleia has had the odd peacock dropping in, but small tortoiseshell and comma have been virtually non-existent where I have been pounding the tracks or having a gentle walk. 

I hope my readers have had better luck. Certainly some local folk here have found silver washed fritillaries in town, which is unheard of before. 

Of course, I haven't seen them. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 21.08.24

A Kinoulton Visit

 A drizzly Sunday saw us head out for Kinoulton, eleven intrepid players looking forward to the first Sunday game we'd managed to get on for a few weeks. 

Kinoulton is a well appointed ground with good facilities at the north edge of the village, and a car park that shrewder players realised was well within range of bigger hitters out in the middle. Cars were moved to more shielded spots. 

We batted first, with what looked a decent side on paper, in a thirty over game. After one ball, the leg stump fell over, and there long followed an amusingly farcical Spinal Tap moment, as first of all the hole was dug out with a teaspoon to try and remove a riotous bit of rock, before very large sticks were employed to pile drive the leg stump back into the ground with such force it was now a half inch shorter than the others. 

It's a friendly, no-one cares. 

Events started very positively for us, hardly surprising as we had the first and second team opening bats first up. It became evident very quickly that the outfield was as fast as treacle, and so our first team opening bat realised quickly that the key to fast scoring was going aerial. 

Which is how he hit his own car, although fortunately without damaging it. 

He retired on 50, no doubt setting his form up for the 131 he scored in the next first team game - who says Sunday cricket isn't important eh? 

When his partner got out for about 28, we were well set, but alas, things got a bit sticky from there on in and run prediction dried up as we ran out of power hitting, not helped by Kinoulton putting their most experienced bowlers on last. 

We closed on 120 for 7, defendable if we bowled well. Me, of course I hadn't batted, choosing instead to umpire and watch yet another cricket ground be visited by a red kite, and poking around the flowers at the edge of the ground. 

I won't ever change. 

The idea that our total was a good one was sadly dispelled in about 10 minutes, as one of Kinoulton's openers went absolutely mad and smashed 50 in about 25 balls, with the pavilion taking a fairly serious battering in the process. Even after he retired, we couldn't stem the runs, although I did take a wicket thanks to a great catch from my co-captain. 

However, we had an exciting mini finale when our youngest players, and the first team opening bat turned off spinner, made them work for eight overs for the last few runs. We were desperate for the young lad to get a wicket, sadly it was not to be. 

Yes a loss, but it was a really enjoyable game with a really nice bunch of Kinoulton lads, who were well worth a drink with after the game. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 13.08.24

Random Photo Dive

 Let's see what I've found the last few days in various places; on dull days, bright days, hot and humid and sticky days. 

Bright, buzzy and fluttery, I hope.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 06.08.24

Happy in Defeat

 Our most recent league came took us across to Collingham, a former happy hunting ground of mine where I took plenty of wickets in the days our third XI used it as a home ground. 

Ah those happy days when I could still bowl my left arm swingers. 

Collingham thirds had beaten us pretty comfortably a few weeks ago, and today we were going in with a another youthful scratch side, boosted by our veteran grandfather and with a couple of players from our successful women's outfit on board, who are very happy to be referred to as youthful. 

As is customary, we fielded first, and we knew were up against it very early. One of the openers has been scoring runs for fun lately, and the other was the deaf cricketer we had come across last time - who it transpired has played both cricket and football for official England Deaf sides. 

A bit above my pay grade these two, and indeed, they were soon in the runs against our bowlers, including the bowler who wears deep black shades when he bowls. No joy for him, or indeed anyone. 

They put on 203 for the first wicket. But in spite of that we kept working in the field and never let our heads drop, and we fielded pretty well. Better players on the day, all you can do is say "Well batted!"

One opener retired on 102, while the dear cricketer unluckily nicked off for 97, before the same bowler castled the number 3. 

Speaking of luck, well I didn't have any. My first ball missed the top of middle stump by millimetres, The Man from Blidworth dropped a fairly easy catch, there was a missed stumping, balls looped in the air and didn't go to hand, or beat the edge of the bat without catching it. 

So yes, the good mood was not universal...

When we batted, we started well against The Fireman Next Door To My Stepfather, but it was the young swing bowler at the other end who was causing the problems, initially luckless with edges going between the various slip fielders, but eventually he made the double breakthroug. 

As ever, I was umpiring at the time. 

Another couple of wickets fell, then one of our lady players joined the steadfast grandfather, and there then followed an excellent partnership, in the cricketing sense, which lasted for nearly an hour. The run rate didn't matter, we weren't going to win, it was all about putting up a fight and going for batting points. And we were getting them. 

All the while, The Grandfather was nearing an excellent 50. And guess who went out there as last man when he was on 49? Yes, me, 15 runs all season and an endless series of ducks. This did not look like it would go well. 

I managed to somehow fend off a few deliveries, until when on the last ball of the over, the keeper behind me fumbled the ball and it ran down towards the sight screen. The Grandfather ran for the bye, while with the only tactical knowledge I had, I urged him, gently, to "GOOOOOOO BAAAACCCCKKKK". 

It took him a while, but eventually he did. He got his 50 off the first ball of the next over with a single. The next ball after that, I was castled flapping like a humpbacked whale at an outswinging yorker that was utterly wasted on me. 

Still, a lot of people were happy, and so it didn't matter.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 02.08.24