Excitement in the Rain

 Saturday saw the third team,  now captained by The Man from Blidworth, head out to the lovely ground at Colston Basset to face Keyworth 3rds again. 

As ever early, I headed off into the gloom up the hill to photograph the ruins of St Mary's Church that overlook the venue and help make it so scenic. 

Well it would be scenic on a normal day, but the entirety of this match was played in what ranged from a misty drizzle to full on heavy rain; that we played the whole thing was remarkable.

We were surprised at being asked to bat first, as we had what on paper was a weak team and we thought this meant we were going to be skittled and the match be over in an hour. 

This was not the case, no sirree. Things started very slowly, with one of the Keyworth opening bowlers bowling seven overs for two runs, until one our first batter, having done an admirable job in seeing off these very good Keyworth bowlers, fell right at the end of the 14th over, at which point we had 15 runs on the board.

A remarkable partnership then developed between the other opening bat, the Owmby coach of our women's team, and the grandfather of our young opening bowler who was out there using my bat and in the process that it is me, not my bat, that is talentless.

The two of them out about 90, starting cautiously before unleashing an array of powerful shots around the wicket despite a very tricky pitch and the awful weather. After they were out, we did subside a bit when the opening bowlers came back on. 

But ask us before the game, we'd have taken 125 for 6, in fact we'd have bitten your hand off to the shoulder. 

The weather worsened. We went out to bowl. Could we do it? Could we pull off an improbable win?

Things started well. The aforementioned young opening bowler found his range very quickly and castled one of the openers, while others fell to the Keele captain LBW. There was a deflection run out - gosh luck really was running with us! 

Before too long, they were about 65 for 6. 

This is where our problems started. These lads did not panic; they knew what they were doing. They played straight. Meanwhile, we were running out of bowling - you could tell this as I was brought onto bowl.

50 runs needed, 45, 40. There was a brilliant run out before a young bat came on and started smoking us everywhere, including a mighty blow off me. The ball was like a bar of soap, it was hard to bowl, but the young opener snagged the big hitter to claim his fourth wicket! 30 runs, 25, 20. I was bowling as well as I could but one bad ball an over was costly, as was a batsman nicking one past the keeper's gloves. 

15 runs, 10. THe number ten bat managed to hit a coulpe of fours while looking like he didn't know what he was doing. Four runs to win, I floated one outside off stump, and got walloped for four. Scores level. 

I then agonisingly beat the bat with a beauty. 

However, he cross bat swatted the next ball for a single, and that was it. We lost. Winning runs scored off me. 

"Well that one was my fault" I said in the dressing room, hoping that the others would tell me it wasn't. 

They did.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 19.07.24

Under the Ruined Church my Bowling was Ruined

Today's match took me to play Keyworth. Only we didn't play at Keyworth, we played them at the beautiful ground at Colston Basset, a village out towards the Leicestershire border not part away from Cropwell Butler, the home of Stilton cheese.

We didn't see any cheese, but we saw a lot of skydivers leaping out of planes taking off from nearby Langar.

I played here on a Sunday last year, when there more flowers, and the ruined church was full of bees and butterflies. This year, there are big queen bumbles seemingly looking for a hole for the winter, and all the thistles have gone to seed. Buzzards circle the ground.

At the start of our innings, vultures were circling as well. We found ourselves 15 for 4 at one point, as extremely talented young bowlers bowled it straight on a tricky wicket. I could hear the joyful roars of the opposition as I explored up the hill.

Luckily we had youngsters, seniors and guests down the order who were able to stabilise the situation and crack a few much needed runs. Even I ended up batting for 9 overs at the end, and after all my lamentations the other day about being rubbish, managed to hit a boundary and score 10 whole runs as we scored 112.

I thought this would make me confident to bowl, but it didn't quite happen as I expected. My first ball, against their top bat, was absolutely stone dead LBW. Next over there was another big LBW shout, and a nick behind that wasn't given. For some reason, probably because I don't like bowling at left handers, I let one bad ball go an over, while others weren't fielded.

It stressed me. I was so angry with myself, and I was trying too hard. I was going for 6 plus runs an over, while bowling some utter beauties. I was devastated. So mad. No wickets.

We had other bowlers who bowled better, and we actually had them 7 down before their old head skipper came in and calmly won the game for them. A lot of us weren't right in the head out there today, I know I wasn't, but then I'm usually like that. I have a highly self punitive nature.

Still, it's been a beautiful day in a beautiful setting.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 26.08.17

Norman Churches and Grinding Cricket

Today, on the hottest day of the year, and frankly all of last year as well, found myself playing cricket at the pleasant setting of Colston Basset's cricket ground, on the edge of the Vale of Belvoir. Apparently this village, as well as Cropwell Bishop nearby, are famous for cheese, although the only thing that was cheesy anywhere near us was my safely unused bowling.

Initially we had met at the Kelham Road ground, where I was delighted to find that a great tit had nested in a fencepost by the main gate. The bird itself wasn't terribly pleased however; when I tried to peer into the nest it hissed at me! Twice! Can't say I blame it.

After driving over to the match, the skipper lost the toss and condemned us to 40 overs of scalding hot fielding. Luckily I was on hand to take a scalding hot catch - so I'm telling everyone who wasn't actually at the game - and some talented youngsters did our bowling for us while I patrolled the covers like Jonty Rhodes on barbiturates. Unlike Belvoir last weekend, there weren't many birds to be seen, but plenty of flirtatious pairs of orange tip and small tortoiseshells fluttered by, and yellow brimstones flew the boundary edge.

We did well to keep our opponents to 225 odd, and then went out to bat against the most insanely accurate bowling attack I've ever faced. Some insanity made our skipper put me in at the nosebleed inducing position of 3 in the batting order, and after getting involved in a run out where the guy the other end wouldn't have got in even if he was in a Tardis, I settled down to keeping the ball out with my legs and testicles. And bat, very occasionally.

I was out LBW again. For 3 this time, after what seemed like batting for 6 hours. Tell me what these wooden things they give us to hit the ball with are will you?

After getting out, and exchanging light disagreement with my run out partner, I had time to explore the ground. It was dominated to the west by an intriguing ruined Norman church, where some truly old graves were patrolled by tawny mining bees, and ground ivy enjoyed the moist conditions at the base of the walls, snuggled under spider's webs.

We lost by about 130 in the end, against a much better side. But we are an improving club, and the results will me come. But me. I HELD A CATCH!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 08.05.16

Great tit nest

Grinding it out

Super accurate bowler, this chap

Pavilion and our fans

Sadly, not going so well

Sun in the trees

Up at the church

The tower

Cowslip grave

The open nave

Gothic setting

Across the graveyard

Snug ground ivy