Saved by the Lightning

 Our last home Sunday game of the year was against Attenborough - the third time we had played them this season - on a day of tremendous humidity where we fully expected the weather to finally break after a blisteringly hot week.

They had a strong side of hungry young players. We had ten players, one of which was my sister playing her first ever game of cricket. I was confident she would be ok having had a bit of a practice with her the day before. Upon winning the toss, I was confident also that we would be able to make a decent fist of things despite only having ten players. 

Well gee whickers, was I wrong. 

It started as badly as it did against them last time we played them, when we were 1 for 3. That time, someone bashed 94 to keep us in the game. This time he wasn't able to repeat this miracle, although he did try his best. 

Within 10 or so overs, we were five wickets down, batsman diddled by good bowling and some rather strange shot making in a couple of cases. Now, this is not the sort of thing that is supposed to happen on a Sunday, and it certainly doesn't happen on my watch when I'm captain. We want a full game of it for everyone, for our batters and bowlers, and for the opposition batters and bowlers too. 

You don't keep the good bowlers on, hotknife-through-butter through the batting while cheering and celebrating like maniacs as if you were playing Australia at Lords. So I felt slightly aggrieved, and so did others on the team. 

I sent my sister into bat ahead of me, and she managed to lay bat on ball a few times, before dollying a caught and bowled. No shame there! I went in and batted for thirteen balls without scoring a run, so honours even for us. 

Forty-nine all out in about 18 overs. Jeez. 

"Right then" I thought. Young kids or not, they were going to get a reminder that we could play hardball too.

Opening with our two fastest bowlers, we gave them a pretty torrid time as well, having them three down for not many, before I was glad to get their somewhat, not-happy, captain out LBW, while the chairman got a wicket during a fine spell of bowling too. 

41 for 5. The sky was grey. It was raining heavily. The plan, such as I had one, to spin the game out as long as possible so that weather could intervene, relied on one thing. That a flash of lightning would be seen, which by ECB rules means we have to get the hell off the ground pronto. 

All eyes were trained to the sky, apart from by the players on my team who were rather shamefully trying to pretend it was too dangerous to play by deliberately falling over in unconvincing ways. 

A few minutes passed. Then, FLAAAAASSSSSSH! It happened. 

Some of our players made it to the dressing room faster than Usain Bolt. 

This lightning rule states that you can't go back out there for at least half an hour after the last visible strike. But in truth, although I told the players to be respectful, there was no-way anyone was going back out there. To be fair, all our white kit was soaked, and I can't blame them. I didn't either. 

The groundsman and I made a show of inpecting the ground, which lightning or not was a near mud patch. 

When we told the captain, he looked like he'd been told his home had exploded. A bit excessive for a Sunday game. But, it was that kind of day.

At least I was very proud of my sister. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 13.09.23

Sherwood Forest Cricket

 This weekend's game for our as yet unbeaten, despite me, Sunday side, took us to play Edwinstowe, a once big time club that now only plays friendlies due to the fact that the local area is saturated with big time cricket clubs associated with the old collieries like Clipstone and Thoresby Colliery.

The setting for the ground was utterly stunning, a natural amphitheatre at the edge of Sherwood Forest. The visitor centre and cafe was at one end of the ground, with the "Major Oak Festival" taking place just beyond, explaining why there were people dressed as Mayde Marian and various outlaws wandering around the boundary at times. 

Of our opponents, I knew little. Research indicated that sometimes they were very good, and sometimes rather less so. Their captain told me, as I was losing the toss as usual, that he'd had to scrape up a team of ten, and yes please, he'd very much like to bat first.

As always, my team-mates upon hearing that they were going to have to field first, told me I was a disgustingly useless captain, while I apologised for not being able to use the force to manipulate the coin as it span through the air. 

With a mixed ability side under my, ahem, "command", I opened the bowling with one of our second team openers, and a new player to the club who had seemed like a decent bowler at Thursday nets, and I was absolutely delighted that he took a wicket fairly early on. The other batter however, the left handed Edwinstowe skipper, was playing some very elegant big shots, and their number three, while more of an utter hacker, was also able to give the ball a fair old smack.

Trying to be tactically inspired, I brought on our first team bowler with the instruction that I wanted their skippers wicket on a silver platter, which he duly delivered in his second over thanks to a brilliant catch on the boundary. With the chairman now asking politely for a bowl, I tossed him the ball and he duly delivered two wickets in his first over, as young kids and obviously rather less able players began to appear at the crease. The first teamer, his job done, volunteered to drop out of the attack, and I brought myself on. 

I'm getting better, but I'm still dropping one ball an over onto leg stump enabling even fairly hopeless batters to belt me for four. But I still beat the outside edge with flight and bounce, bowled one batter with one I pushed through, before getting another left hander caught at mid off. Two for sixteen in four overs. 

Time to take myself off and give someone else a go. 

Trouble was, at this stage in proceedings I let my captaincy slip, as rather than keep an eye on what was actually happening in the match, I was probably a bit more concerned with trying to get everyone into the game, especially those batting down the order. I got a bit lost with setting a field, and forgot that with thunder forecast we needed to try and get the game over a bit more ruthlessly than is my normal approach for Sunday friendlies. 

However, we did get the job done, and bowled out Edwinstowe for 115. Shout out to our novice keeper, who did a fine job, apart from a bit of a mess up at the end. No shout out for my fielding, which was so terrible I banished myself from mid-off. No confidence when the hall is hit hard at me any more. 

The sky was getting very dark now. It had been horrendously humid all afternoon, and the odd spot of rain had fallen. Thunder was expected. I sent out our opening batsman with instructions to keep things ticking over. 

Well, I think I did.

In any case, they were completely up to the task, and got to 57 with some excellent stroke play off the opening bowlers until the first teamer, not wanting to seem like a bully to a young lad who had come on to bowl, got bowled. But the other opener kept it going until almost the end, cutting the bowlers to death until he dragged on at 48, accompanied by the novice wicket keeper who scored almost entirely in boundaries.

We won by a comfortable 7 wickets, fifty minutes before the grey heavens opened.

Thanks to all who played, and our umpire who kept telling me my backside was in the way.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 19.06.23

The Charitable Chairman on The Charity Fun Day

 Being too injured, old and useless to play, I found myself agreeing to umpire the grandiosely named "Kelham Road Cup" match between our First XI and a special Chairman's XI that formed part of our chairty fun day.

We had women's games, kids games, try out sessions with coaches and various stalls and bouncy castles, augmented by a soundsystem designed to pump out cricket themed music at ear crushing decibel levels during the match.

Organised by our first team opening bowler, who like me is too injured to play at the moment, the match was a 20:20 game with a few Hundred rules thrown in, which meant a few extra arm wavey things I needed to learn pre-game and explain to our actual on mic commentator we had brought in specially. 

The Chairman won the toss, and elected to field first having the younger side with a bit less batting firepower. Almost immediately he fell foul of the fielding restrictions rule by having three fielders outside the circle in the powerplay so I got to call "no ball" very loudly indeed and wave my hands in a horizontal circle like a rubbish helicopter trying to take off to signal the free hit.

Annoyed at having had his inability to count to two shown up, the Chairman protested a little at first, but soon quitened down in the face of my supreme umpiring authority. 

Despite being theoretically the weaker side, after a few early lusty blows the first team opening batters were soon deceived by a young off spinner who has bowled trememdously well all through his first season. Both of them were utterly spatchcocked by the flight and were bowled, before another first team players was deceived by a "doosra" and was stumped. 

All through this I got to signal fours, and more excitingly sixes - delivered in my "Mexican Wave" style. Even umpires have to entertain these days. My umpiring colleague got most of the "Free hit" fun though. 

Meanwhile the first team wicket keeper was busy racking up his 6th Sunday 50 of the year, and their Captain promised us some massive 6 hitting which didn't actually happen, giving the DJ fewer opportunities to blast "Fire" by Kasabian across the outfield, although he did make liberal use of some IPL style sound effects. 

They closed on 139 for 7 or so off their twenty overs.

A quick turnaround followed a spot of village raffling, and then it was time for the Chairman's XI to bat. Opening up with two renowned massive straight hitters, one of them an England dodgeball international at that, meant that I was acutely aware that there was a fair chance of being smashed in the face with the ball so I was standing way back from the stumps, so far in fact that I missed a nick again. Batter was kind enough to walk however, no doubt wishing he'd had a digeball game instead of being done for a duck in a charity game.

The other opener did launch a few big sixes however before being castled, which brought the chairman to the middle. This meant only one thing - the unleashing of the fastest bowler in the club upon him, primed no doubt with instructions to "FINISH HIM!!!". 

THe chairman actually coped with this barrage pretty well, although the edges of his bat scored rather more runs than the middle. What he did a few overs later, on 40 and with the game almost won, was a bit sillier.

He decided to try and play a reverse ramp shot off our regular Sunday opening bowler, with predictably disastrously stump-spreading results. Next ball, young third team opener unlucky to be bowled off his bat. 

Sunday opening bowler on a hat trick! And he got it too, as the next batsman's bat missed the ball while he was looking at the sky. And that more or less sealed the game in favour of the First XI.

Very charitable of the chairman, I thought, to give his wicket away like that.

All in all though, the result didn't matter, it had been a great match. And I'd got to do some decent arm waving too. Added a few extra steps on my fitness watch.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 29.09.22

Ah yes, the "Art of Captaincy"

 With a few players missing, it was left to me to organise and captain a side to travel out to play Cropwell, a very very village team in the pretty village of Cropwell Butler, home both of stilton cheese and legendary Notts and England player Derek Randall.

"Rags", as he was always known, does occasionally trundle down to the ground to watch the odd game, but he didn't on Sunday. I don't think he would have been very impressed if he had done.

The ground itself was in a lovely rural setting with sheep bleating around the ground and various country byways criss crossed the site, which had an admittedly rather algae filled pond and was also designated as a nature reserve. The fantastic little scorebox would you make you think cricket had been played here for hundreds of years, but in fact they used to play at a colliery ground and have only been here for about 12 years. 

Seeing as we had arrived early for the game, and apparently looked like first team players - yes, me included - we were invited to bat first, at last, and so our somewhat makeshift side ranging in age from 12 to mid 70s had to suffer me inflicting a batting order on it. 

So, our 75 year old give or take first team umpire went out to bat with our 17 year old first team opening batter, with strict instructions about running between the wickets. The fact it was a 30 over game meant we would be retiring batters at 50, which doesn't go down well in all quarters apparently, but we do want to try and get everyone into the game.

The bowling was a lot friendlier than I was expecting it to be, making re slightly regret changing my mind about opening the batting myself. But it was reasonably accurate and not that easy to get away, although our young opener made a good first of it. Our umpire was stumped after 8 overs and 4 runs, raising his eyebrows a little at the decision, which I felt to be slightly ironic, and then our young keeper joined in, and runs began to come very quickly. 

We were 65 for 1 at drinks, and I gave the instruction to push on a bit as I knew Cropwell batted better than they bowled, and I wanted at least 160 on the scoreboard.

This they proceeded to do, until the keeper got out for 29, heavily annoyed as he was hoping for a 50 himself. The opener retired on 50, but we had some more young middle order firepower, helped by our star second team bowler, fresh off 9 wickets in two matches, who also knows how to wield the willow. 

Things went smoothly until about two overs to go, where my organisational ability fell aprt somewhat. I retired our number 5 on 35 to get a new bat in, but alas he fell first ball meaning I had to go out there with about ten balls left. 

I somehow managed to hack a run, but then the other batsman was bowled, and no-one was ready to come in, the chairman who had arrived late seemingly had no intention of putting any cricket kit at this moment in time, so we had to wait until we could get the 12 year old ready. In the meantime, our number 5 was unretired; he played an outrageous reverse ramp for 4 then got out.

I was trying some desperate hacks to try and get the young lad on strike for the last two balls, which I manaaged. He missed the first, but hit the second straight to the bowler.

I told him to run anyway, hping the bowler wouldn't run him ut, and he chose not to, for which I thanked him.

A bit chaotic, but we had indeed got to exactly 160. 

Now for the real test of captaincy. The fielding. 

I'd removed one difficulty, i.e. when to bowl myself, because I had hurt my already injured back the first time I had tried to wave the bat. The opening bowlers were easy, firstly it was the two players who hadn't batted, and secondly because the chairman would banish me from the club if I didn't let him bowl first.

It did not take long for me to realise that my hunch that Cropwell batted better than they bowled was entirely correct. They knew their wicket, they just put their hands through everything and smashed through extra cover. 

I was fielding at extra cover, and was fielding so badly I was banished to slip and replaced the the senior player we were hiding there. I just couldn't get near the ball, my co-ordination was hideous. Everything went straight through me while I got my legs in a tangle. 

Horrendous.

Without any actual idea of what to do out there to stem the runs, or even if there was anything anyone could do, I had to bring our gun bowler on but he went exactly the same way. The chairman was nearly getting wickets when he switched to his googly bowling but was still getting taken for boundaries. 

He insisted he was not to be taken off until he'd bowled out though. 

We did get the gun bats though, through superb outfield catching involving very loud shouting of names. And it turned out the other bats weren't as good, no sirree and we managed to drag ourselves back into the game after they had racked up 100 after just 12 overs. Our number 5 was bowing an excellent spell to go with his batting; wickets were falling, but the runs were creeping up. Our 12 year old got a good little bowl, and took a wicket too so that was a bonus. 

I wish I could say I knew what I was doing out there, but I didn't, not really. However with 6 wickets down, two overs to go and 4 runs needed, I did do something reasonably captain like, by bringing everyone in and trying to make the batsman hit over the top to win the game. And it worked too! Two batters got themsevles out trying to hit the winning boundary, and the next two were very nervous.

However it was not to be, Cropwell managed to pierce the infield and that was it.

However, it had been an excellent and very friendly game, entirely worthwhile to take part in and at 30 overs it hadn't taken an eternity like last week's match had. This meant we were able to retire to the pub around the corner, where the opposition players took part in strange rituals involving drinking pints with batting gloves on.

Hell's teeth, I'm clumsy enough as it is without doing that.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 23.08.22

Wafting Around in the Heat

 Sunday saw us back at home on a Sunday, taking on our good friends from Travellers whom we have now played 4 times in the last three years.

It was a blistering hot day when the sun was out, and the captain losing the toss and having us going in to field first in 33 degree heat was not exactly the start we wanted. We know how these guys play, they go to hit big from the first ball, and if luck is against you, this can lead to a very long afternoon chasing leather to all corners of our enormous outfield on the back ground.

Not to mention time spent digging the ball out of hedges and bushes. 

As it happened however, we made a decent start, thanks to the opening blower we had borrowed from Travellers who put on an excellent spell, alongside our own well seasoned opener, who sadly (for us) is going off to teach PE in Abu Dhabi. 

It was probably cooler in Abu Dhabi that day, to be honest, it felt very hot to me out there, and I just couldn't get into the idea of fielding and my sense of body preservation seemed to over-rule my brain after taking a few whacks with the ball the week before. 

I tried to flog myself into the game, really trying to charge in, trying to get myself going. Nah, not today. I don't think I was alone either. Not in that heat. 

Meanwhile, a young 12 year old bat for Travellers was having a great time seeing off our bowlers with good technique, and stealing the occasional run while the chairman had a go with his "Sunday off spin" which is actually wrist spin. 

We were doing pretty well with Travellers 120-5, but they had backloaded their batting order with big hitters, and despite one of your young bowlers taking two wickets, the score fairly rattled along during what seemed like an endless last ten overs. 

I even got to bowl myself, and it was ok, only two bad balls and the edge beaten a few times. But nothing in the wickets column.

Might have helped if I'd got my hands on the caught and bowled chance that came my way. Oh well. My season has long since gone to the dogs with injury causing lack of practice causing being rubbish.

They ended up on 240 for 9. Way way too many.

So we just told everyone to go out there and bat long and bat for themselves, not that this was very easy as the pitch now started to misbehave and some nasty flyers started taking off from Traveller's rather quicker bowlers. 

Still, everyone fought hard, especially our young left hander and the chairman, who put an excellent stand of 50 on. Travellers' youngest player, barely the size of the stumps, also turned out to be a very good little off spinner as well as bat, and he caused problem, while another bowler bowled huge leg breaks.

There was another bowled off a no ball scenario, two in two weeks for me. But unlike last week I didn't get derided for it. 

Having finally escaped from umpiring after a 90 minute stint, I had to go and bat at 9 and went in skittish as anything, flapping a couple of runs before being hopelessly early, yet again, on a full toss and lobbing it to mid wicket like an idiot. 

But we saw the game out, with a young lad making a fine 17 not out, and our number 11 having a day of days to get 7 not out despite batting almost in twilight at nearly 8pm. 

It had been a very long hot day, and a beer at the bar was then most welcome.

We will see Travellers again next year. Lovely fellows. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 16.08.22

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

My Golden Run Continues

 So, Sunday saw our friendly side in a match against Bottesford from just over the Leicester border, a side I've never played before, but seemed to be on arrival a very nice bunch of lads, solid players mixed with a crop of very young juniors some of whom were playing their first senior match.

Against that, we had a strong side with a few first team players, and had been wondering how best as a team we could make the game "fair". Oh what fools we were. 

As ever, the Sunday skipper lost the toss and this meant we were soon out in the field on a bright but windy day that would later turn into a glorious evening as the wind dropped at our really rather attractive ground. 

Grown up bats came out for Bottesford to start with, and scored at a reasonable rate against our opening bowlers without ever really blasting the ball around. As ever, I was fielding at square leg, and although energetic and alert as ever (!) I struggled to actually field the ball with my hands, having it continually bash into my knees or ankles. 

Feeling rather stiff, I also found out I was less flexible than I thought I was, and a fair few times bent time to field the ball, only to watch it go under my hand, in one case to the boundary for four. 

It was down to our leg spinner-cum-wicket-keeper to make the early breakthroughs, with an LBW that was, and a caught behind that wasn't. 

We had a brinks break after 18 overs, with the score for Bottesford on about 85 for 2 and what seemed to be their two gun bats at the crease. With a left hander at the crease and our new bowler, the leg spinner's brother who has never bowled in a match before about to bowl around the wicket, this led to the sight screen needing to be moved.

A usually very simple operation then turned into utter farce, as a combination of high winds making communication difficult, contributed to a situation where the two sight screen movers ended up attempting to move a fixed bench instead of the sightscreen.

"NO!!! NOT THE BENCH! THE BLOODY SIGHTSCREEN! THE SIGHTSCREEN!"

Despite this very loud assistance, the message still wasn't getting across and one of them came running back to the centre for further instructions, while the other attempted to lift the bench, and presumably its foundations, out of the ground to no avail. 

Meanwhile our opening bowler, after a fine opening spell, had decided to field from the pavilion rather than his designated position of deep sqaure leg. This may have been related to operating a barbecue, but we aren't sure. 

After drinks, as ever I was brought on to bowl as usual to the two gun bats of the Bottesford side, and didn't do too badly really, determined as I was to try and bowl with a bit more physicality and intent, which only half worked pace wise as the wicket keeper was still stood up to the stumps. 

Meanwhile, a wicket had been taken, and this brought a very young man to the crease. The senior bat, a powerful left hander who slammed me through cow corner a couple of times but didn't do too much damage to my figures, proceeded then to bat with him for the best part of 15 overs, manipulating the strike while still giving him a chance to bat.

He certainly kept me out no problem, and indeed he batted right the way through to the end after the captain's son knocked over the left hander, but more young kids were on hand to score some runs too.

In the end they finished on 174 off their 35 overs, offering our batters a decent test without killing the game. It's the ideal sort of score for a friendly game of this nature to be honest, although we felt we were good enough to get it. 

I went out to umpire as our brother openers went out to take on the young Bottesford bowlers, and so had the box seat view for some excellent batting. Indeed, they went on to make an opening stand of over 100, right up with the run rate, and so we felt confident enough to retire them both on 50 as we had some good young and older batters to come in. 

Of course, this is when the wheels fell of, as it so often does for our Sunday side. Grown up bowlers came on, wickets fell, the scoring rate slowed up. 

I still thought we'd win, until a couple more wickets fell leaving me standing at the side of the ground waiting to come in at number ten, a sight that filled no-one watching with any confidence. 

"Headband man is here, the pressure's on!" the wicket keeper helpfully pointed out to me when I went in. Indeed it was, we needed about 20 off 9 balls, with me facing a rampaging left hand bowler.

It took me one ball to see, or rather not see, why he was rampaging, as he bowled the ball from over the top of the sightscreen and I never saw the ball until it was about a yard in front of me, a full toss that I flailed at and missed by miles as it clattered into the stumps. 

The last 6 battters all scored 0 each. five of them to the left hander who got 5-13 in addition to his 50 earlier on.

Still, it had beena good game of cricket, and we are sure to play them again. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 27.06.22