Far From The MCC

~ Est. in 1998 ~

 

“Sombre Mood Of Author

Renders Report Devoid Of Humour

(As Mad Win Again)”

 

 

Sunday 24th August 2003

Result:  Won by 30 Runs

Venue:  Pembroke College Sports Ground

35 overs

FFTMCCC

183 - 7

I. Howarth  38,  M. Westmoreland  30,  T. Mander  26

Cholsey

153 - 3

A. Mann  2 - 23

 

 

 

The melancholy call to autumn is on us again. Though the playing fields are brown with grass thirsting after a drop of rain, though the air is warm and the evenings are alight beyond the close of play, there is a hint now of the old feeling in the air, that old feeling which comes when the nights draw in, bringing the old thoughts with it, closing in to hearth and to home. Whisky by the fire, football on the telly, conker and berry, leaf fall, mud and frost under foot. Young women are dressing against the cold, and the sap is falling. Christmas round the corner, drizzle hangs off a low grey sky. Sod it, summer’s over.

 

 

The author (16*) fell just short of a ton on this day.

 

* * *

 

Losing the toss against Cholsey, young visitors new to the Mad, captain J. Hoskins was invited to bat on a dry and crumbling wicket, and S. Dobner (1) had soon fallen to the nagging accuracy of P. Sargent (2-20). But the hard and parched Pembroke outfield was giving full value for shots today, and I. Howarth (38) was quick to cash in. In the end he fell to an elaborate trap of his own making, tickling the ball through behind the stumps, but by then had shown why he is this season’s most prolific scorer with some fluid strokeplay through the covers, finding the boundaries with ease. T. Mander (26) continued his resurgent form and stoked the fires of his newfound aggression until he edged a ball from A. Sargent (2-21) to short square leg, while M. Westmoreland (30) cashed in on his lives to confirm his own renewed confidence, before one edge too many brought his knock to a halt.

 

 

The Doc almost had a ton on this day, but he didn’t.

 

B. Mander (0) is still looking for his range. E. Lester (10) is still looking for a slice of luck. The ball that had him skidded low under his bat and clattered the stumps six inches off the ground. But if any were looking for the all-too-familiar collapse to ensue, they looked in vain. These days there is vigour in the Mad batting, runs in Mad bats, and by the time J. Hoskins (23) had departed with the score on 174, he and A. Mann (16 n.o.) had added 41, a record for the 7th wicket in all Far From The Madding Crowd and #%&* &*^ $%£"*& games. By the time Mann and S. Hebbes (4 n.o.) strolled from the field towards tea and egg sandwiches, Cholsey were looking at 183 on the scoreboard and still no rain in sight.

 

 

Stan was the barman of the Madding Crowd pub in 2003.

 

S. Dobner (7-0-16-0) has found something, in fact, everything, but can’t buy a wicket. It can only be a matter of time before they come tumbling in. S. Hebbes (7-1-32-1) took the early scalp of Jackson (2) calmly caught at square leg by E. Lester, and Cholsey seemed to take fright. Wilcox (40) fell bowled to A. Mann (7-1-23-2) and next ball A. Sargent (0) had gone as well. Rendell (50 n.o.) survived the hat trick by two whiskers and prospered, but too slowly - J. Hoskins (6-0-19-0) and M. Westmoreland (5-0-18-0) were serving only snacks, and by the time P. Sargent retired on 35 n.o. with an over remaining, Cholsey had consolidated themselves into a thirty run loss only three wickets down. The Mad had won two on the trot, not counting the tour games. Which don’t count, see?

 

 

S. Hebbes’ new post-match diet.

 

After all that, they say it’s rain tomorrow. No more parched outfield, no more sap rising as the skirts flash by. Just conker and berry, leaf fall, mud and frost under foot. Christmas round the corner, drizzle hanging off a low grey sky. Sod it, summer’s over….

 

 

‘Blocker’

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

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