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

Oh my Head

Grumpy chap today, I managed to go running, but after running round the cricket ground a few times I came back with a streaming nose and sinus headache over my right eye. Stomach not been great either.

Found a dead chick in my garden today, no idea where it has come from, suspect dropped by a crow or seagull. Very young, and not a clue what it is.

Also found a beautiful birds nest at the cricket ground again, possibly a long tailed tit nest? The great tits are still visiting the scorebox so hopefully all is well in there.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 17.05.20

The Obliterators of the Unexpected Journey

So, it was the long drive out to Goosedale Lane today, to take on Notts and Arnold Amateurs Vs. I know. It's a big club, with a big quotient of juniors.

The ground itself, a huge, wide open and slightly sterile facility  is the scene of some awful hammerings for the Sunday side, against the NAA top players. But today it was their development side, up against our one, on a pitch like plasticine.

We bowled first, and ripped through them. Bowled them out for 26 as their batsman committed hari-kiri on a pitch which like a few recently, has done some very odd things for slower paced bowlers. Our skipper hit the stumps, while our even older than me keeper threw himself around like a 16 year old catching them out as they played colossal heaves against me that would have been suicide on the surface like a billiard table.

One of their naughtier batsmen failed to walk after nicking the cover off the ball for the keeper. The umpire (and his coach) ordered him off the field and after the game was seen being told he was dropped for the next match.

To be honest, I took 3 wickets and two of those were off my two worst balls, including the heroic 12 year old Hobbit batting who ended up their best batsman. Roughly about the size of the stumps in high heels, he seemed a very long way away to bowl to, and you had to pitch the ball on his toes to avoid the ball bouncing head high for him to hook.

However, I got him in the end. One does not simply walk out to bat against me!

We did our best to torpedo ourselves when we were batting, but managed to see it home three down.

We've been defeated like this a few times, it is horrible, and it seemed odd to be doing it to someone else. It's inspired the skipper to write more poetry that he wants me to put in this blog, but I don't want to break the Geneva Convention.

Always like watching the remote control aircraft flying club next to this ground!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 22.07.17