Finally, a Half Marathon Runner Again!

 I've probably mentioned in passing here and there the half marathon I had been training for, and how my training had been stymied a bit by getting cellulitis in my leg, and pulling a muscle in my backside. 

Well earlier in the month I walked down to Sconce Park, full of trepidation at 745am on a slightly chilly morning, to pick up my race pack for the start at 9am. I was running for a local hospice I had raised some money for, and was resplendent in one of their "technical running shirts". 

I don't know what was that technical about it, it caused some rather painful chafing. 

A thousand runners, the vast majority of them looking rather fitter than me, were milling around, stretching, fuelling with energy drinks, bars and gels, and applying various hi performance creams to their limbs. Me, I had eaten some very retro cola bottle sweets. 

IBS is such a pain sometimes. Well, most of the time. 

A Mrs Motivator gave us a pre run stretch routine, and then we formed up in a long conga line in predicted time order. I was towards the back, with my fellow two hours 20 people. 

We then crocodiled out the park like a school trip, before beginning our run on the main road. 

I started far too fast. Of course I did. But running with the 2 hour 20 pacemaker just seemed very un-natural, so I just went off and did my own thing, knowing full well my legs were going to fall off at some point and hoping to get as far as I could before this happened. 

I was hoping to get to 10 miles. I made it to exactly 8, on the long two mile country lane section which I knew was going to be a bleak, hard and lonely section. Being a mainly rural course, there weren't the cheering crowds you get at the London Marathon. Unsurprisingly. 

The next mile and a half or so was a real struggle, more so as it was getting quite warm by now. I would force myself to run for brief sections by saying "Tree", "Sign", "Hedge" or "Water Stop" before walking again. 

Fellow runners must have thought I was going mad. 

After getting to Thorpe village, it got easier, helped by the hospice putting a cheering squad at the 11 mile mark, with the pull of home drawing me along, albeit pretty slowly. 

I trotted through the finishing line in two hours 17, and immediately drank all the things, and ate a bag of haribo like a pig. I felt pretty proud, and so did my sister, which was the loveliest part of the day. 

Now, will I do it again? 

Si 

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 01.09.26 

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

There was Quality in there Somewhere

 On Sunday, it was time for our return visit by our friends from Cropwell. For once, through no fault of my own, I was late for the game, and batting first we were already 88 for 1, with our opening bat just cracking a four to bring up his 50 and his enforced retirement as I arrived. 

We carried on batting rather serenely at about five runs an over, until with about 8 overs to go our other bat, now on over 200 runs in three games, also reached 50 and had to retire. 

This led to a passage of cricket that was, shall we say, a challenging watch. As ever, the problems of scoring runs against slow lob bowling on a slow wicket on our deck became very apparently, and there wasn't a lot of quality on view, with some ferocious swinging of the bat resulting in minimal ball movement. 

Hey, it's Sunday, it doesn't matter! All good. We still had 152 for 4 on the board.

However, we know Cropwell. Every time we have played them, their opening bat has always come in and slammed 50 very quickly before retiring for a beer, and ensuring Cropwell got the runs they needed. This time, however, our young opening bowler got him quite early on, and it was in fact his partner who started slamming the ball around, hitting one bowler over the pavilion twice. 

Their run rate was climbing rapidly. The skipper, desperate not to lose again, decided to deploy some first team bowling, including the division's leading wicket taker. This is generally regarded as being a bit "Un-Sunday-Like" and the Cropwell captain, himself a good bat as well, thought we were being a bit naughty, especially as the quick bowler seemed to be about twenty miles per hour for the Cropwell bats to even see. 

I did apologise, as they took four wickets between them in eight overs and killed the game stone dead, as Cropwell's remaining batters were clearly not up to much. Thankfully, friendlier bowlers were brought on for the the last 12 overs as we chipped away at the remaining wickets. 

I bowled some gentle filth myself, claiming another wicket with my speared in quicker ball, even if it was a full toss. 

There was time for a bit of peak village at the end, where our umpire allowed my last over, the final one of the game, to go on for about ten balls so the playing wife of one of the Cropwell players could score a run. 

She got one, from a ball I bowled at her left handed. Yes, it got to that level. We won by about 50 runs. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 25.08.23

Losing in the Drizzle

 Sunday saw us heading off to the beautiful village green surroundings of Cropwell, a ground that is part of a nature reserve, seems to be much beloved of the local swallows, and is surrounded by areas of wildflowers. We were also due to have an actual tea, which had caused a lot of pre-match anticipation as we don't get them very often in the post covid world.

A terrible pity, in the view of most of us. 

The wicket was immaculate, and try, but turned out to be rather slow. As was my fielding having already played on Saturday of which more anon. 

Cropwell are a mixed ability side, with a couple of decent players, and a lot of social players, which is absolutely fine for a Sunday side. We too were mixed, with a couple of very good players, with the standard dropping down to myself, and a couple of guys who came with one of our better players, one of whom was French and had never played the game before. But they were nice chaps, and unlike myself had the ability to move. 

We batted first in a thirty over game, and made an excellent start with our first team opener - as ever watched by his dog - and the player who had brought his friends with him, getting us to about 90 before drinks, and the enforced retirement of our opener on 50, a fine knock indeed.  

Our batting after that was a bit less fluent, but we still got to 148, helped by my hopeless flailing 2 before I deliberately got out to let one of the new players have a bat. And to get off the ground as I had lost my white trousers somehow and was thus reduced to playing in orange shorts. 

After descending on the tea like a pack of polite hyenas, we took to the field to bowl, and the same guy who had flayed us for 50 last year did exactly the same thing as the drizzle set in for the afternoon and the swooping swallows took themselves out of the rain. 

At halfway drinks they were on about 90 as well, and we knew we had a game on our hands, complicated by the fact that being a mixed ability side we kept having to "turn the bowling up and down", a commonplace event in friendly games. I came on and bowled like a drain for two overs, probably fatally for our prospects, before sorting myself out and bowling two ok-ish overs. Even unleashed my new quicker arm ball. Which I don't spin, not that it makes a difference. 

A tense finish ensued in the rain. Wickets fell, a soapy wet ball caused full tosses. Last over came up with Cropwell 7 down and four runs needed, which they did indeed get. 

Sad to lose, but it was a fun game, and we got free chips afterwards, so bad moods were soothed somewhat.

Apart from mine about by bowling. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 31.07.23

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

Nearly Stuffing it up

 Sunday saw the visit of Attenborough to our ground - the Nottingham suburb rather than the naturalist - and they had got me in a quandary before the match had even started.

They had told me earlier in the week that they were bringing a side with four adults, and seven juniors. On paper, we had quite a strong side, and so I had been working out in my mind how I was going to approach this to ensure a decent contest.

Would I only be able to use slower bowlers?

Would I have to tell our bats to go easy on any very miniture bowlers? 

If we batted first, would I have to declare rather than let our batters go mad and post 300 plus?

When the opponents turned up, may of them barely taller than the stumps, these thoughts returned. As it turned out most of them were moot, as they won the toss and batted first on a blisteringly hot and humid day. 

I opened the bowling with what I would thing of as being medium intensity medium pacers, firstly to see how well the youngsters were going to handle the bowling, and also because our two quickest bowlers were late and we only had nine fielders to start with.

Stellar capataincy and organisation from me there. 

One our openers had a couple of early wickets caught at mid off and in the covers, and then ran a very young lad out off his fingertips, an appeal I immediately and generously withdrew, thinking myself a very sporing captain. "No little kid is getting run out like that in a Sunday game on my watch" I thought smugly. 

Of course, he turned out to be their best bat, and very competently spanked boundaries, leading me to realise I could turn the bowling up a bit, with some first and second team bowling that prised out a couple of wickets with some lovely left arm swing in the heavy air, pregnant with a thunderstorm that never happened. 

I even brought myself on, and found that remembering to really keep my left arm high and active meant that I could bowl accurately and beat the bat, even if I was barely turning the ball. Got a wicket with a short ball dollied to mid wicket, before castling a young'un in my 5th over.

Five overs one maiden, two for fifteen. I quit while the going was good.

Now, there was a different kind of problem. I had managed the game well, getting different and unusual bowlers on, trying to give everyone a go, but we were still taking too many wickets and they weren't scoring enough runs. In a friendly, you don't want to kill the game, you want the opponents to get a reasonable score so it gives your batters a chance to have a reasonable game. They were about 70 for 7 at this point.

So, I allowed the chairman and third team captain to swap the keepers gloves with the first team captain - hilariously, I was captaining captains - so he could bowl some sort of googly variant that he only "unleashes" on Sundays, and brought on a leggie at the other end just as a chunkily built Kiwi came out to bat for Attenborough.

He proceeded to wallop some big old sixes, but the leg spinner was taking wickets when he wasn't batting, and after they had got to 128, I decided enough was enough and decided to bring back the opening bowler, who promptly took one ball to shut down their innings. 

Now, with our batting line up, we ought to have chased that total down fairly easily against a young bowling attack, and indeed I wasn't too worried about our batting line up and even though we had the first team opener in the side who had taken a wicket earlier on, I sent out the first and second team opening bowlers, who both normally bat a number 10 in their league sides to give them a chance to score some runs.

Right decision too, as they made it to 60 without loss with some good strokeplay, as ever making me completely envious of anyone who has any kind of batting ability whatsoever. However, in the twelfth over right on the stroke of drinks, one of them looped a catch up.

I now took a stint at square leg, and watched as our team seemed marooned in the 60s for what seemed like ten overs while losing wickets. Number three lobbed up a caught and bowled, number four was lbw off the bottom of his bat and the third team captain looked purposeful before spooning up a caught and bowled. 

So, umpiring stint over, back into the shade of the pavilion but wickets continued to fall, however at least a few more boundaries were being hit. For our first team captain and chief ship steadier was still out there after a sticky start as the wicket, which had been a belter most of the match, began to slow up and misbehave a little bit after it had about 600 runs scored on it over the weekend. 

We crept nearer the total, wickets still fell. But thanks to the ship steadier, we just got over the line 8 wickets down, with the unwelcome sight of me padded up and waiting to bat on the pavilion steps. 

Still, both teams got a lot out the game, players got a chance to do things they don't normally do, and our Sunday side remains unbeaten.

Good day all round really!

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 12.06.23

Arise Ye Fourths!

 With high availability for our three league sides for a change, we found ourselves in the position of being able to put an actual 4th XI for the first time in my 9 seasons at the club. 

A game had been arranged with Caythorpe, a local premier league club with a huge player base, who like to give their younger kids every chance to play, like we do. Although it has to be said our side wasn't the youngest one I've ever played in - our juniors are now too good to be playing at our level, although we did have a good young lad, and a couple of very good women from our successful ladies side. 

We found ourselves batting first, on a day or blazing sunshine, butterflies, and birdsong. No umpires for this game of course, so I found myself out there from ball one with my nice panama hat on.

In truth it was pretty enjoyable, the Caythorpe players were polite, and fun, and also rather good. Their Ray-ban sporting opening bowler got a lot of swing, and soon I have to give one of our openers out plumb LBW. Our number 3 got bowled by a scorcher of a Waqar Younis style inswinger, and our surviving opener freely admitted he was batting by numbers while sporting a beard a Soviet era dissident would have been proud of. 

Our captain got unlucky, a young lady was bowled, and the opener fell to brilliant catch behind; sadly for him this now meant he had to umpire instead of me. Sadly for our team, this mean the prospect of me having to bat was looming, although a great performance from our broken fingered number 5, and our other lady player, meant this didn't happen until the last over, where I was able to hack a single from the one ball I faced.

Strike rate of 100.00. Seeing it like a watermelon. 

So, onto bowling and fielding, and I was much heartened to get a gentle ripple of applause for managing to stop a hard hit through the covers early on, and indeed I achieved a rare average standard with my fielding. Same with my bowling really, a first over where I dragged my off-spin down too short was followed by a perfectly reasonable one where I beat the bat a couple of times and only went for two runs, alas I was then taken off. 

Harsh, I thought at the time, but events would prove the skipper right I guess. 

Caythorpe, meanwhile, had been cruising to victory, but our broken fingered first team star now replaced me to bowl rather better than I did while I fielded out in the deep in birdsong corner. He took three quick wickets to give us some hope, while our lady cricketer took a wicket at the other end. But eventually, with about five wickets down and a couple of batters retired, they levelled with our score of 137-9. 

Events now took a rather strange turn. The scores were level for a fair few deliveries, at which point our Soviet dissident came onto to bowl. Third ball, he had the batter well caught at cover, only for Mr Ray-Bans to announce that everyone had got changed and no-one wanted to change back into whites again, so he was declaring their innings over.

We had tied the game, and I'm still unbeaten this year!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 29.05.23

Spatial Awareness? Body Sense? Naaahhhh.

 Sunday saw me leading our friendly cricket side against Wellow Exiles, at our home ground, and golly was it difficult to get a side out there; I only managed to get the final three players on the morning of the game. 

It was a strong, if mixed side, much bolstered by the arrival of the senior first team bat wanting to try his hamstring out in the middle, and rather younger than our opponents, who also included an extremely good amputee para-cricketer as well as some rather older chaps. 

They knew we were probably a bit better than them, which is why on a beautiful sunny afternoon they won the toss and asked us to bat first in order to have a longer day out.

We had one umpires, but no square leg and with our team as ever eager to help out, it was left to me to stand out there for the first twenty overs feeling my face start to burn. However, this did give me a close up opportunity to watch aforementioned opening bat give a masterclass in how to bat with a very good and technically correct junior, raising an opening stand of about 100. He went all Gordon Greenidge after his hamstring twinged, and battered 22 off an over at one point, no longer wanting to do much running.

He was out for 94, sticking a full toss down deep square legs throat. A great pity. 

After that, batting became harder on a slow deck, against bowling that was straight if nothing else, the para-cricketer being especially hard to get away. However, our number six brought the sixes, assisted by one of our junior bats playing his first senior game who took huge wipes at everything and managed to belt a four at one point. 

We closed on a competitive 179-5 off our forty overs. Objective A achieved as captain. Also managed to watch one of the resident buzzards get chased around by crows, and orange tips and brimstones were at the ground too. 

Now onto the fielding.

Very conscious of who hadn't batted, and the juniors that needed to have a full game, I devised a strategy - a very obvious one - that the good bowlers would operate from the top end with the short leg side boundary, and the young lads would bowl to the long leg side boundary at the other end, as would myself in all my hopeless glory. 

And it worked.

While our senior opening bowler was literally far too good for any of the Wellow players to get a bat on, he went unrewarded. However our other junior playing his first senior game, after a nervous start, wiped out Wellow's top order in five overs, taking three wickets and was on a hat trick at one point.

I hope he remembers the day for the rest of his life. We were all thrilled for him.

After that, it was a case of working our way through the rest of their batting order. Wickets were taken when I changed the bowling. The victims were shared out. Even I got one with my terrible bowling, which however was better than last week. I'm told I'm not allowed to talk about my wicket, as it was so bad. 

But as ever, it won't say "caught off crap delivery" in the scorebook. 

Victory was achieved when our number six destroyed the stumps with his first delivery. 

Finally, a word about my fielding. It is terrible at the moment. I have no idea what my body is doing, and which bit of it is where in relation to the ball. My attempt to go for a catch was so hopeless it reduced the team, and the bowler, to different sorts of tears as I flapped at the ball like a one flippered seal while falling over. 

But I'll take the win, thanks.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 15.05.23

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