Wicker Man Goings On

 Monday saw my family and I visit Wellow village for a special ceremony. Now I've played cricket here a few times, and drunk at the pub overlooked by the traditional Maypole in the village, I've never attended the May Maypole ceremony. 

It was a major occasion in the village, preceded by Morris Dancing, some rather inappropriate medieval children's entertainers who were, perhaps in the traditions of the time, rather rude, which preceded the main event, when the carefully selected children of the village carried out some dancing. 

The whole event was incredibly reminiscent of watching the classic film "The Wicker Man", and a reminder of ancient times when such ceremonies were probably accompanied by a spot of human sacrifice to go along with all the merriment. 

Nowadays, the bloodiest events are probably the arguments between the mums of the village, fighting tooth and nail about whose daughter gets to be May Queen, or the train holder, or the flower girl. Like something out of "The Archers". 

Probably families not speaking to each other to this day. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 28.05.25

The Red Mason Bee

 On our campus I've seen a few of these very vivid little solitary bees feeding off rock cranesbill and rosemary., while at home I sometimes see one inspecting my walls for a suitable nest hole in the brickwork. 

They are fast moving and hard to photograph; the ones that visit my garden never stop for a second, but when they are feeding you have a chance if 1 you are very quick, and 2, very lucky. 

Emphasis on the very lucky.

I hope you too have seen some interesting insects during this fine dry weather. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 15.05.25

Freezing in Upton

 Sunday took us to play Upton, our traditional friendly game season opener, and the fact that we were playing a great bunch of guys with a tea in the offing, was rather off-set by the fact that it "a bit chilly".

I lie. It was freezing, freezing cold. Upton's ground is high upon a Trent Valley plateau, and the wind swept in from the Arctic North over the ground. No chance of a buzzard or red kite flyover today. Or even getting in the ground, as Upton's keyholder was a bit late so cars were hogging the narrow lane the ground lies beside. 

Facing a strong Upton side with a keen, but very young, team of our own - it was me keeping the average age above 18 - it was agreed that Upton should bat first in a 35 over game. 

They did very well, but so did we. All five of our young players, two of them being young ladies making their debuts in senior hard ball cricket, did a fantastic job with bat and ball. They took wickets, kept things tight, and batted really well. 

It was myself that let the side down, bruised tailbone rendering me virtually immobile in the field, not helped by some kind of panic attack that made me lose my nerve and not want to field the ball I couldn't bend over to field anyway. I had to resort to fielding with my feet, resulting in some painful whacks on the ankle. 

My bowling suffered from being at two very good bats, both of whom wiped me to the boundary whenever I dropped a fraction short, which was ineptly too often. 

When we batted - we had no chance of winning but were out to acquit ourselves well - I found myself umpiring for twenty overs in the bitter cold, but at least got a chance to watch our youngsters bat really well in close up. Far better than I could, I got out first ball while falling over to a leg stump yorker. 

I wanted to put a bag over my head, and plugs in my ears to drown out the endless mickey taking by my older team-mates. 

I felt like I never wanted to play cricket again until tonight, when I had an ok net bowling. The feeling that there might be a golden day one day comes back. Ha ha. 

Luckily, these young players we have will have plenty of golden days. 

Si 

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 08.05.25

Cricket is Back

 Feeling low on confidence, it was finally time to return to the greensward to play for our second team against Coddington and Winthorpe at our home grown, on a day where when the sun was out it was pleasant, and when it wasn't it was freezing. 

Even the local buzzards stayed home most of the day, although a great tit was busy at its nest in a tree, and what sounded like a whitethroat was singing away. 

Playing way above my pay grade, and with a bruised lower back from a fall hampering my movement, it fell to me to go out to umpire. Our new opening bat rather eye-openingly hit his first ball for 6 with a lovely lazy flick over square leg, which gave me a chance to stretch my arms up and stay warm, but in the main it was a hard slog for out batters on a slightly up and down wicket against good accurate bowling. 

Getting the ball away was very difficult, and at 50 for 5 things were looking very dicey indeed. But our young all rounder partnered our older all rounder, and supported him well as he blasted a 50 against the support bowlers. 

The third team captain blasted a big 6 too. I thought I'd mention that so he lets me bowl in the next third team game. 

I did have a bat, as usual against the rampant returning opening bowler, but I managed to survive two whole deliveries without too much difficulty or physical injury and suggested to my batting partner that he should now take the bowling apart. 

He was caught out two balls later, but it was the right plan! 

We closed on 129, which at least was something to bowl at. Alas Coddington's batters were talented and experienced, and our bowlers were very young. Or very old and rubbish in my case. Or new player looked the part though with a sharp spell that removed one of the openers LBW, but otherwise in the sunshine now it seemed like a different wicket. 

I fielded ok by my lamentable standards, and I did get a bowl, which was unexpected. But I was too slow and a little short, and all I did was finish the game a little quicker. 

Still, I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I wold, and it was good to be out there again. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 03.05.25 

Let's See some Smaller Sights

 Let us take a break from cricket, at which I seem to be demonstrably hopeless at the moment, and let us turn our eyes downwards again, to what lives among the wildflowers and helps pollinates them with a flit, a hop and buzz while only a few of us notice. 

It seems to be shield bug season at the moment on campus, with dock bugs, box bugs and gorse bugs scuttling about everywhere amidst the brambles and dogwood, far below the screeches of the buzzards as they are harassed by crows. 

The weather has been damp but tolerable, for both myself and the insects, and we have both been out and about. The latter far more colourful than myself. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 30.05.24

Herding Cats through the Rain

 Sunday dawned wet and grey, and I awoke to a chorus of messages on my phone asking me if the game was going ahead. 

The guys at the Legion said it was dry, and yes we were going ahead.

As the rain here continued to hose down my team-mates didn't believe me, quoting the forecast of thunderstorms, lightning and other meteorological disasters. But I had already got to the ground and indeed found it reasonably dry and not raining, and relayed this information back.

Players then agreed to set off, with much harrumphing and questioning of my sanity. 

I negotiated with the Legion skipper that we would bat first, in a 30 over game based on the fact that it was near the one pm start time and our team consisted of entirely two players; myself and our second team all rounder, heir to a formidable local cricketing dynasty of three generations. 

Probably not enough to make match of it, to be honest.

But the others arrived, in various moods, and we got the game underway, with just 9 players. A good day was not on the cards. 

As it turned out, we only really needed three. 

The game began with heavy black clouds skirting the ground, with thunder rumbling from both the east and west, with our two youngest players opening the batting. The rain stayed away, and they stayed out there. 

When I went out to umpire after ten overs they will still there. They were still there at drinks. And they were still there after 23 overs, when they raised a hundred partnership after one of the young lads had slammed a four, and then a six over my head into the sightscreen, bringing up his own 50 in the process. Remarkable. 

It looked like we were going to bat the whole innings without losing a wicket, but alas both the young lads fell soon after, but they had done an amazing job, raising the run rate too after a steady start. 

We went on to post a competitive total of 143 for 4, with me umpiring for twenty overs despite a rain shower at the end of the innings; we just played through it. 

"Tell me that wasn't worth it" I said to the others as we left the field. 

We went out to field overlooked by the very splendid Sir Julian Cahn pavilion, a reminder that many many years ago this rich cricket benefactor had hosted games against Australia at this very ground. Us plebs aren't allowed to use it though, we are stuck in the municipal changing rooms. 

The Legion started at a brisk pace, but lost a couple of early wickets. I thought I would come on to bowl and take wickets, but it was an utter confidence shredding disaster. I got some sharp turn, but it was all too short and I got flogged. The harder I tried the worse it got, the ball would just not come out right, not helped by the fact I was bowling about a metre behind the crease for some reason. Never felt comfortable.

I was whipped off after three overs and banished to the boundary, although today I saw a bit more action in the field and didn't mess up once for a change. I felt absolutely terrible, and ready to give up cricket.

For about half an hour. 

As it happened my replacement, the young all rounder who opened the batting, came onto bowl some flighty turning legspin, and took five wickets, much to everyone's delight. There were catches behind, and stumpings for one of our other juniors, who is normally the first team opening bowler. Six dismissals for him.

We won by about thirty runs in the end, although I was still very grumpy and not seeing the bigger picture, i.e. a fantastic day out for our young players. On a day people didn't seem to want to play. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 27.05.24

Bogside Cricket

 Saturday saw us take the relatively short hop up the road to play Lowdham seconds, with our third team as of yet the only one of our league sides to have won a match in league cricket this season. 

Hopes were high, with a decent team taking to the field, more or less, and with decent weather expected I was expecting a productive day on a personal level, having bowled well last weekend and also in the nets on Thursday. 

Forlorn expectations, as usual.

As is custom with our third team captain - yes, still the same one as when I started blogging these games ten or so years ago - we bowled first. Events started slowly, as I watched from my standard round the corner ball never goes there fielding position, which given the small ground was practically on the boundary. Our debutant opening bowler, bowling in black trainers and matching shades, soon knocked over the stumps however, followed shortly by our Keele Captain bowling from the other end, 

There then followed a partnership by a couple of the Lowdham batters which consisted entirely of hacking through the line and getting lucky, with the ball going in the air plenty of times and either not going to hand, or being dropped. 

A couple went into the trees, and another went over a hedge onto the road. 

At 108 for 2 at drinks after 20 overs, things were looking rather grim, but we stuck at it, catches started being taken, stumps were shattered and our mood improved tremendously. 

While all this was going on, I was sailing from backward square leg to fine leg and back again like a reasonably un-majestic old schooner. The nautical metaphor is not misplaced, for Lowdham suffers from flooding as badly as we do, and parts of the outfield were like a swamp. One rare time that the ball headed my way, I took off after it and suddenly found myself nearly ankle deep in Lowdham's finest mud and had to watch as the ball gently bumped over the boundary. 

My cricket career summed up effortlessly, while I had to watch things like our opening bat take an absolute screamer in the deep, although he later told me that if he hadn't it would have knocked his teeth out. 

So, after thirty overs, it turned out that we had bowled them out for 154, with Keele Captain taking four wickets and the Man of Blidworth three. A fine effort after drinks. 

Told at tea time I could be promoted in the batting order as I hadn't bowled - up to number nine - I then set off to umpire forever as usual, and got to watch a fine opening stand of 52. Rather too closely at one point, as I only just got out of the way of a blistering straight drive that would have put me in hospital if it had hit me. 

So, we were going well albeit against bowling that was straight if nothing else, but we were going rather too slowly. It took the arrival of our number three to get us back on track with some big six hitting, although the bowler concerned was hardly Dennis Lillee, being about four foot high. 

So we progressed well for a time, but then there was another tumble of wickets, one of which involved a fairly sustained bit of bat and glove throwing - I sympathised - and resulted in me having to pad up with about 40 still needed in 6 overs or so. 

The terrifying site of me in my pads, bat in hand, next to the boundary rope was the key point in our victory, as it forced our captain into going on the attack and getting the runs quick to save the team from me in person. And that's exactly what he did, and that what got us over the line with a couple of overs to spare for a fine victory. 

One I had no chance of spoiling. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 26.05.24

The Island Refuge

 Today I will show you "The Island", a refuge of wildflowers in a rather unpromising location.

A mass of ox eye daisy, with corncockle, cornflower, scabious and poppies thrown in, it is full of bees of all kids - today's special find was a buffish mining bee. 

The air quality isn't so good though, as you might gather from a traffic island surrounded by two dual carriageways.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 24.05.24

When Baseballers Play Cricket

 Sunday's game at our home ground was an unscheduled match arranged by the chairman, who in a parallel universe is the coach of Nottingham University's baseball team, a team that have supplied us with some integral parts of our team over the years. 

Indeed for this match, they were bringing a Luxembourg T20 international player, and another player who used to be on the books at Sussex. Better than any of us, at any rate. Although we were assured there were a few guys who had never played cricket before. 

Obviously, being a baseball team and all that, actual cricket kit was optional, and some of the players had moustaches and mullets that would have been entirely at home at Yankee stadium. 

We batted first, which meant that on this gloriously nice day, I got to go out and umpire in my wonky old straw hat for the first half of the innings. The former Sussex player, who seemed to rejoice in the name of "Bart Simpson", was evidently a very handy and rather quick bowler, which I'm sure our first team captain who was hoping for some time in the middle was not exactly thrilled about, especially after the first ball reared and hit him on the shoulder. 

Luckily at the other end, one of our former players was serving up twelve ball overs by somehow bowling more wides and no balls than even I could ever manage, and the ones that were vaguely straight were being hammered to the boundary by our second team captain.

The first wicket fell when the first team captain jammed one out to cover, before my Sunday co-captain came on to strike a couple of lusty blows before getting out to someone who looked like they'd never bowled before in their lives. 

There were worries of an embarassing collapse drifting in on the freshening breeze, but we found an unlikely saviour in the form of one of our young lads, who produced a number of hefty thwacks mixed in with some sensible batting. I even scored ten whole runs myself, with couple of boundaries slapped behind square in the manner of a malfunctioning helicopter trying to take off.

We closed on 143, a decent score in the circumstances. They may not have been cricketers, but the standard of fielding and throwing is way higher in baseball than cricket, and it showed. They held their catches, and they all had throwing arms like missile launchers. 

At the tea interval, an opportunity for the baseballers to crack open a few beers, I was told I'd be opening the bowling as "their opening bats are rubbish". Another staggering vote of confidence, but hey, I just love bowling. 

It actually went ok, I castled their opener third ball with an absolute ripper - a straight one that he missed in other words - and took one for four in three overs before being banished as we wanted everyone to get a bowl if possible. It worked too, pretty much everyone took a wicket including our debutant flattening the stumps of the T20 international.

However the baseballers had a very good bat who scored 50 and kept them in the game, but wickets kept falling as the captain skillfully brought himself on to bowl at guys who had never batted before, as well as taking an excellent catch. 

We won the game by seven runs, a really fun afternoon capped off with a couple of beers as the sun sank lower in the sky. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 21.05.24

This Time, Eleven Beats Ten

 With no great hopes or expectations - I lie, there are always dreams of hero-dom in the back of my mind - I found myself drafted into our third team for a trip to Thrumpton, over on the Leicestershire border.

On paper, we looked quite a strong third eleven, but sadly, that paper was old school parchment. Seven or eight years ago, we would indeed have been a strong team, but we were all younger then, playing two divisions lower and in much better practice. There was also only ten of us. 

Still, it was great to be back playing with these chaps. 

I'd never played at Thrumpton, but the reputation of its teas preceded it. Generally agreed to be the best in the league, the main tactical consideration was not the state of the wicket, or the atmospherics, but rather to bowl first so we could put our feet up at half time and stuff ourselves royally.

Thus there were major celebrations when we heard from the skipper that we were indeed fielding first. 

Thrumpton's ground has a beautifully bucolic setting, which I had spent most of my pre-game warm up by photographing. Surrounded by buttercup meadows, free ranging fresian cows and overflown by a number of keening buzzards, it was a glorious place to play cricket. For the less aesthetically minded, the presence of a bar was carefully noted. 

Off we went to bowl and field, or in my case, field only as I thought at the time. The Thrumpton bats made a good start against our opening bowlers, the captain of Keele University second team, and a refugee from Blidworth from the "here be dragons" Bassetlaw championship. 

They played some good shots, but it was all a bit hacky and sloggy and on a bigger ground might even have cost them - Thrumpton has a pretty small outfield. But they cracked along at 6 an over until The Man from Blidworth had one of the openers caught by the captain, before our guest spinner from Upton had the other caught in the deep. Another captain's catch got rid of the number 3, before another bat missed a ball from the off spinner by miles and was plumb lbw. 

At this point, 80 for 4, our captain thought we might skittle them for under 120, and golly we did try, but the lower middle order had other ideas. While I was fielding energetically in my usual tactically selected - by the captain - positions where I didn't actually see much of the ball, the heavily bearded but very friendly Thrumpton captain and a junior player about the height of the stumps started crashing the ball around, with a tree next to the cow field getting some rought treatment a couple of times. 

It was in this context that I was invited to bowl the last few overs by the skipper, with the friendly encouragement that I would be shot if I bowled badly, or words to that effect. As it happened, I didn't, although my off spin wasn't getting much turn. I even got a wicket with the last ball of the innings, a delivery the Thrumpton captain somehow managed to loop into our keeper's hands via the back of his bat. 

Maybe I should be told I will be shot more often. Although I'd rather I wasn't. 

Tea was, as predicated, sumptious, with chicken goujons, chips, pizza and enough sandwiches to feed the Titanic presented to our team who fell upon it like starving jackals. There was even ice cream and jelly for afters. 

Time then, to bat. Well, not for me. I was expecting to bat at eleven even with ten men in the team. We were facing a fairly stiff chase of 175 in 40 overs, and it turned out fairly quickly that this was going to be tough. 

The young Thrumpton seam bowlers may have been rather short, but they weren't short on pace and the ability to hit the stumps, which we had rather failed to do. Only our tall opener, supported by his magic back brace, stood firm with his usual stoic front foot play with the occasional elegant whack. 

The other end was a festival of stump upheaval. 

The captain went in, and batting better than I've seen for a long time, took it to the bowlers with some powerful strokeplay. But at 84-7, he found himself with me walking out to join him. 

"What are you doing out here, you are rubbish, get the guy from Keele out here" he encouraged me, while frantically waving at said man from Keele. 

He was then out next ball to a stunning catch. 

The first ball I received, from yet another stump high fast bowler whacked me hard on the foot and I was happy to take the leg bye to face the rather gentler left arm spin at the other end. Banjaxed the first ball for four, then missed the next five. 

The Keele captain had now com in, and recognising true incompetence when he saw it, took charge of the situation to hog the strike, while playing some excellent shots while I watched with a smattering of envy. He could easily have got 50, but sadly, I let him down by getting bowled round my legs for 5. But between us, we had passed the 100 mark, and got us the batting point.

To go with the extra bowling point I earned. 

All in all, a lovely day. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 19.05.24