Far From The MCC

~ Est. in 1998 ~

 

“Dietary Factors Blamed

For Unexpected Mad Loss”

 

 

Thursday 27th July 2003

Result:  Lost by 5 Wkts

Venue:  Cutteslowe Park

35 overs

FFTMCCC

150 ao

N. Hebbes  38,  M. Westmoreland  35

R. T. Harris

152 - 5

A. Mann  2 - 17,  B. Mander  2 - 32

 

 

 

Respected dieticians and health authorities were today demanding a return to a more traditional teatime repast, after a rogue tea was blamed for the lacklustre display in the field which led to yet another unexpected Mad loss. “Experimentation is all very well, but no sandwiches??” said passing nutritionist Ronald McDonald. “It kinda makes you want to say, just get forked.” Others were not so diplomatic. “Where are the sodding fcuking sandwiches?” cried several passersbys as they saw the teas being laid out on a sodding tartan plastic sheet between innings. “And no hot beverages? Call that a fugging tea?” “Those chocolate bars and crisps won’t give you much energy, you stupid twaps!” called out some of the younger children riding past on their freaking bikes. “Try eating healthy foods, a balanced diet will also help you fatters guys over there lose some weight! How can you even play cricket with a gut like that???”

 

 

Cutteslowe was bathed in sunshine for the match.

 

A fair question, and one that deserves an answer. And yet, the Mad batting display was nothing if not creditable. Despite losing I. Howarth (0) earlier than he might have liked due to unaccountable sobriety on the stand-in captain’s part, and T. Smith (9) due to an unfortunate calling mix-up which saw N. Hebbes unfortunately call, doughty top-scorer Hebbes (38) (for it was he) and a rejuvenated M. Westmoreland (35) took the score on to 81 and never looked like getting out until Westmoreland was dismissed (note to editorial staff  – check, have I used this gag before?) – to a freak rebound off the R. T. Harris ‘keeper which saw both stumps and partnership broken. A. Mann (10), B. Mander (14), N. Howarth (14) and M. Bullock (7) all contributed in what might well have been quick succession, although J. Hoston (0) did not. Ultimately, D. Jones (0 n.o.) was left stranded as S. Hebbes (1) sprinted past him on the final ball only to see himself run-out sacrificing his wicket but not his self-respect for the greater good.

 

 

Martin (35) would have got a hundred on this day, but he didn’t.

 

Defending a chunky 150, the Mad were set for certain victory, their attack primed to smash through the R. T. Harris (that’s right, the local electricians) resistance with majestic ease, and there was little doubt in the outcome had not the lack of complex carbohydrates found in sandwich bread taken its toll. It didn’t help either that the visitors had helped themselves to most of the bananas, thus scoffing down the only healthy alternative on offer. The short-term energy boost found in chocolate cakes and orange cordial got opening bowlers D. Jones (0-46) and N. Howarth (0-13) off to a good start, but wickets were at a premium, and as the Mad tired, R. T. Harris took charge. Wickets did fall, but frankly less than the required number, and with the afternoon sun on the wane and weary families straggling past after a day in the park, R. T. Harris eased themselves towards the target, achieving the win with eight overs to spare. Though bagging a brace and taking a fine catch off a superbly-judged full toss, A. Mann (2-17) bowled a patchy spell, troubling the batsmen only spasmodically, while S. Hebbes (1-28) and B. Mander (2-32) could do little to stem the tide. It was left to skipper I. Howarth (0-13) to bravely venture the last over and get tonked for his troubles.

 

A match, then, not so much the one that got away, as the one that slid imperceptibly out of sight, even as, watching from afar, Madsters craning towards the dusky horizon murmured, there it is, there it is, no wait, oh, it’s gone…

 

 

Nick (38) would have got a hundred on this day, but he didn’t either.

 

And yet, in defeat, the Mad were able to distinguish themselves a little. With the game as good as over, J. Hotson had the nous to experiment with radical new fielding techniques, throwing the ball up in the air to himself instead of returning it to M. Bullock behind the stumps. And at the last, A. Mann at mid off, attempted a catch without the use of his hands at all, instead employing his custom-crafted stomach to cushion the ball into his flesh, where it sat tantalisingly for a moment before falling to the ground.*

 

There it is, there it is, no wait, oh, it’s gone. Sandwich, anyone?

 

* * *

 

*  -  If a way can be found to combine these two techniques, somehow using the stomach to hurl the ball straight up into the sky and self-field, then in the return match next year, the Mad might reasonably expect to reverse the outcome.

 

 

‘Blocker’

 

 

 

 

 

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