Far From The MCC

~ Est. in 1998 ~

 

“Natch Cider Has The Final Say”

 

 

Tuesday 19th August 2003

Result:  Lost by 39 Runs

Venue:  Timberscombe

35 overs

Timberscombe

215 - 4

I. Howarth  35,  N. Hebbes  23*

FFTMCCC

176 ao

N. Hebbes  2 - 2

 

 

 

As is always the way when sporting tours are nearing their conclusion, the personnel involved are generally much more thinned in numbers and much less able (or inclined) to carry out even the most menial of tasks – be it through the arduous nature of the sport in question, or the more likelier cause – over indulgence in whatever the local brew happens to be. In this case the poison was Natch – a toxic local cider whose ingredients result in extreme loss of vision, loss of thought processing, and loss of… well, any semblance of respectability.

 

 

The Mad arrive at Timberscombe, tired – oh, so very tired.

 

* * *

 

It was now Tuesday, and the remnants of the ramshackle Mad touring party made a collective sigh of despair, as skipper J. Hoskins lost the toss and relayed the unhappy news that they would be fielding first on yet another hot day. The venue, the picturesque ground of Timberscombe, was ringed with small boundaries and so any decent stroke-play would result in rich rewards, and it wouldn't be long before the scoreboard started ticking over with alarming regularity. Serving the initial menu of chicken wings and sausage rolls were M. Westmoreland (0-36) and S. Hebbes (0-33), and as the Somerset men dished out some searing drives, it took a decent delivery from N. Hebbes (1-41) to eventually check the scoring. Scotch eggs were then dished out by J. Hoskins (0-14), potato wedges with a chilli side-dip by E. Lester (0-20), garnished octopus tentacles by T. Smith (1-30), and for desert, I. Howarth (1-24) provided some luscious apple pies with thick Somerset double cream.

 

 

The Timberscombe team eventually grew tired of whacking the leather about with the score at 215, and opening batsman Sparks departed (retired) on 105 not out to rapturous applause. This left the jaded men from the Mad with plenty to do if they wanted to drag themselves back into the match.

 

Time for tea.

 

 

Essex wife, Kim, was sporting really cool shades.

 

So was this the day where I. Howarth and N. Hebbes would finally snap their poor history of partnerships together and get the Mad off to a flying start in pursuit of the Somerset boy’s total? No. No, it was not. It was a bold move, but ultimately ended in abject failure as Hebbes (0) marched back to the pavilion after deciding not to extend the scorers by asking them to ink his lengthy innings. Worse was to come as E. Lester (6) coughed a catch up, and then a tired, and possibly dazed, I. Howarth (0) thrashed across the line to leave the Madding Crowd at a very jittery 9 for 3.

 

  

 

Enter M. Westmoreland, who bristled with urgency and a desire to make square leg his very own. His whirlwind effort of 38 was only cut short when the dozy twat decided to run himself out. J. Hotson (22) continued the defiance, and with healthy contributions from T. Smith (19), S. Dobner (16), and an undefeated cameo from S. Hebbes (25*) towards the end of their allotted overs, the Mad finally fell short of their target with 176 on the board.

 

 

The Timberscombe bowling ran through the Mad top order.

 

A respectable effort, but one couldn't help wondering what might have been if certain members of the team weren't sent packing to the duck pond at such a premature time, and the taste of Natch cider wasn't so prevalent.

 

Right.

 

Match lost, livers destroyed, it was time to sod off back to Oxford.

 

 

‘Spam’

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

Statto's Scorecard

 

 

 

(...back )