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

Under a Collingham Cosh

 Saturday saw our third team playing at Upton once again, this time against Collingham's third team complete with the familiar figure of my stepfather's next door neighbour who it has taken me several years to get to play against.

Against expectation the weather was good, and the ground looked immaculate. I was thrilled to see not just one red kite, but a pair, who appeared before the game and graced us with their presence at various times throughout the afternoon.

"Can you eat them?" asked our resident geographer, unimpressed. 

There were kestrels and loudly keening buzzards around too, although the question of their culinary status never arose. I'm glad other players did turn out to share my interest in nature. Well, one did, anyway.

As is customary it seems, we bowled first in a 36 over game, and Collingham's senior bats, one of whom was the first profoundly deaf player I have played in a match with, made a fast start and it took a while for our captain and the Keele captain to find their rhythm and start taking a few wickets, at which point we dragged ourselves back into the game. Our young opening bowler, after having been clattered a bit in his opening spell, came back well later to take three wickets.

The captain noted "If I don't give you a bowl you will be moaning about me in your blog", so I did get three overs at the end. It went ok-ish, as I tried to bowl of a straight approach to avoid dragging the ball down, but for some reason I bowled my first no ball in ages and so a catch off me didn't count. One bad ball got flogged for four by a young bat, who in truth we hadn't bowled well at, and Collingham closed on 159-9. 

We had a bit of a makeshift side, so that looked probably a few too many forus to get, and it quickly became clear that Collingham's bowlers were going to be far more accurate than us on a wicket where it was hard to score. We lost the geographer and his son early as the aforementioned next door neighbour nabbed a couple of wickets with his left hand medium pace loopy stuff. The other opener stood form, but scoring was very difficult, especially when a young speedster came on and ripped through our middle order.

The captain was the only bat who could really handle him, and he used the extra pace to show us some classical front foot driving, but alas he couldn't stay in.

Back in my usual number 11 spot, or rather 10 as we only had 10 players, I went in with the game well and truly gone, nervous as hell after four consecutive ducks - they should call me Audi, like they did Alan Mullaly back in the day - but reasured by the Upton captain, who just told me to relax and do what I could.

I managed to score one run, but that was it, as my partner was out shortly after. 

All in all, a pretty heavy thrashing, but it was a really enjoyable game and I didn't mind too much. I thought, stupidly, that Sunday would go better...

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 03.07.24

All flattering references to the captain are there to ensure he might let me bowl again one day

Professional Standards

 Went to play cricket at Collingham today, a ground I have played at many times for our third team on the back pitch, but never as we did today, on the main ground with the posh lighty-up scoreboard, old dressing rooms and - YES! - a bar.

This match was a late substitution for a trip to Car Colston cancelled due to a wedding and covid infecting their side, so Collingham stepped in with a side mainly consisting of young kids, three senior players and, most intriguingly, Collingham's Premier League overeas professional from Sri Lanka.

I had looked up his stats before the game. He averages 44 with the bat in first class one day cricket, and 22 with the ball. Back in Sri Lanka, he plays with Sri Lankan test players in the 20:20 league. He also plays in Australia in first grade cricket, again probably with a few test players around. 

Up against this we had a few of our own very good junior players, three good adult ones, and me, past it in the cricket sense and unable to play a single game with pulling at least three muscles in each game. I never go to practice any more; practice means not playing at the weekend.

Practice never makes me any better anyway. I am peak rubbish.

Anyway, at last we won the toss so I didn't have to do anything at all for a couple of hours, which suited me just fine. Let the kids get on with it, and so they did for the best part of 30 overs while I wandered around, or shouted (vacuous) supportive comments. 

Actually, I tell a lie. I umpired for a little while and found myself having to work out who to give out in a tricky run out situation, leaving a rather unhappy junior player. Ouch. But one has to be neutral and obey the laws of the game, says the umpire who said "Top shot" if anyone hit a 4. 

I retired myself at drinks. Acting as co-captain, one can do this. Besides, the wind was pretty strong and was nearly blowing my hat off. 

Our innings progressed, the young, and slightly older, lads going very nicely apart from one lad making his senior debut who got rather over-excited and tried to destroy the ball every shot, until getting bowled for a duck.

His time would come later. 

Our best bat got 50 and retired after a nice innings, and then muggins here went out to bat at number 10. Immediately Collingham must have been scared of my reputation, because the professional was immediately brought on to bowl to me. 

He was bowling leg spin, and I've never faced anything like it in my life. Not only was he making the ball spin about two feet off the wicket, he was bowling at the pace of a second team opening bowler. I watched the first ball just blow past my off stump having pitched on leg; if I'd tried to play a shot at it I would have got nowhere near it. The second ball bounced chest high and I somehow managed to turn it to deep square leg for a single, god only knows how. 

When I got to face him again a couple of balls later, I managed to hit him for 2 to long on. Facing a bowler like this was fascinating.

I was facing the last ball of the innings next over, have a massive swipe at the ball and missed it, and somehow we ended up scoring 6 byes, in a farcical bit io piggy in the middle fielding that ended up with the ball being thrown for 4 over the scorched outfield. 

It's a beautiful ground Collingham, but on the day it looked more like it was in Spain rather than Nottinghamshire. 

So 183-9, 184 to win for Colllingham. It became clear very early on that we were going to have a bit of a problem, as the Collingham batters were in some cases very very young and playing their first senior game, so after reducing them to about 40-3 after excellent opening bowling spells from our young opening bowlers, we had to alternate between bowling full tilt and bowling off a single pace run. Some coped better than others with this, the fact I was hit over the main road into a garden indicated that I didn't.

I'd not bowled in a match in a month, and it showed.

Retiring at 50 meant the first gun bat Collingham had was retired, but then we had another one to deal with, a player from their second team who beasted me a couple of times, and battered our spin bowlers before falling to an excellent delivery that cramped him for room that he could only spoon to mid wicket.

Two overs left. 10 runs needed. Our captain was hit for 4, a catch was dropped and our otherwise excellent young keeper missed a stumping, before managing to get the stumping a couple of balls later.

Last over. Three runs needed by Colligham. Pro waiting to come into bat. Young bowler in his first game having to do the business. Wide. Bye. 

Scores level. Last ball.

It went through to the keeper. No wide signalled. Match a tie!

There may have been a bit of umpires discretion in that one, maybe a lot, but it didn't matter. THe object of the day was to get young kids a good game, and with inly 8 adults on the pitch out of 22, we had delivered in spades.

Many thanks to Collingham for getting such a good game on.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 24.07.22

Drained and Exhausted

Today I was back in the third team, playing at Collingham against Bingham 3s - as  opposed to Bingham 2s who we played here a couple of weeks ago - yes we have two teams from the same club in our division, which is allowed because it is the bottom, most rubbishiest division.

Collingham was looking good today, and very busy as a lot of folk came to watch the first team game they had, but we too had a lot of relatives present as well, some of whom would have plenty to be proud of.

My parents came as well, but ended up watching the wrong match. Such is our competence level.

So Bingham batted first and thanks to some fairly average - ahem - bowling and fielding during I was horribly clumsy and got very cranky for being told off - racked up 110 after about 15 overs, the skipper having seen most of his first over end up in a hedge. Under swallows, wagtails and keening buzzards, we fought back, as I hurtled in, beat the edge a million times but took only the one wicket with the worst ball I bowled.

I'm getting frustrated with not being able to take wickets  despite bowling well and slowing the runs down.

Happily one of our first year juniors went through the batting order to finish with 5-55, and very happy  his folks were too. They still ended up with 256 though, far too many.

It looked about 220 too many after tea, with 4 wickets for 6 runs down and our 3 senior batsman out bowled by the sort of nagging short runned darter I hate the most. But other young players then batted for 30 overs, one of whom scored 75 while his father umpired and was presumably very happy. Hence we batted our full innings and scored 136-6 as the sun began to set.

It was such a hard day though. Despite being clumsy and unco-ordinated in the field, I still gave it everything, running rather faster in the outfield than I have done in a while. It pains me to be such a cretin. AND WHY NO BLOODY WICKETS. Me want a 5 for lol!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 23.06.18

More Cardiac Arrest Cricket

A fantastic day at Dale Field today, not just for the warm sun, and exciting cricket, but because I was able to sunbathe shirtless for the first time at a match all year.

Don't worry, I did this a long long way from anyone else, although to be fair as a 44 year old there are less appealing specimens than me on the team. It's not vanity anyway, it's for my ecxzema  - BULLSHIT cries the reader - and it helps.

We batted first, and while we steadily got on with things before a couple of brilliant innings sparked us into life, I patrolled the ground, enjoyed watching the swallows, pointed out the keening buzzards to my team mates in the scorebox, and talked to bumblebees.

There was a few damselflies kicking around too, common blue damselflies visible when their flapping wings glittered in the sun.

After my match winning innings last week, I thought I'd get a promotion up the order this week, but no, in at number 10 again. This time, I helped our senior pro add 30 in the last 4 overs, wildly flapping the ball to various strange corners of the ground and running like a headless chicken. We got 163-8 off 45 in the end. 12 not out fir me

That was tiring, but not as tiring as bowling 11 straight overs, which I did to take 4-33. Perhaps it should have won the match, but there were a few slightly less mobile gents on the pitch, and their 8th wicket pair crept towards our score as we let ourselves go a bit and began to shout at each other due to the tension.

In one way it's a good thing, because it means it matters to us and we really want it. But, not good. Luckily we kept it together enough to keep them to the same score as us.

163-8 as well. A tie.

Sheesh I don't need that stress!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 03.06.17

The Agony of Defeat

WEll, today was a cricket day, technically a home game but at our out ground at Collingham. It's a very scenic little ground, as you will see. Apart from the bit where we played, which was a bit of bumpy field with no trees around it.

We were hopeful of a victory today as our opponents got shot out for 60 last week, and indeed we had them about 12 for 3 after yours truly bowled a good opening spell before being banished to the outfield and not bowling again. Alas they went on to make 175 for 6, about 40 more than they should have got.

I didn't get time to sketch the ground today, as I had to go in and umpire when we batted, which always makes me a bit grumpy - luckily, as skipper for tomorrow's game, I can make everyone else do that. I did get to go for a nature walk though, and as we started so well with our batting I thought I would then have a chance to get a quick sketch done.

No chance. We suddenly collapsed prompted by the "retirement" of our captain, and at 100 odd for 5, I strode out there nervous as hell and faced with the task of winning the match.

I tried so hard, I really did. I struggled like a dog for ball after ball, over after over, trying to support our remaining specialist batsman, finally scoring a run after what seemed like half an hour. Then with about 40 required, he got out. I then tried to open up a bit, and had got us to 25 required, when I was given out LBW to a ball that hit me halfway up my thigh!

I threw my bat on the ground and stomped off like a scummy brat. I was trying so hard to win us the game, and failed. Our last wicket fell more or less straight after.

Tell me it's only a game.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 13.05.17