Far From The MCC

~ Est. in 1998 ~

 

“Abu Musab al-Zarqawi

Backs Fighting Spirit Of Mad Skipper”

 

 

Sunday 4th July 2004

Result:  Won by 1 Wkt

Venue:  Cowley Marshes

35 overs

Oxford University Offices

135 ao

J. Harris  3 - 27,  N. Hebbes  3 - 43

FFTMCCC

136 - 9

M. Westmoreland  31*,  N. Hebbes  21*

 

 

 

Prior to the commencement of the day’s cricketing fare, a large crowd of varying populace had gathered at the Cowley Marshes for the inaugural opening of the new Marshes Mural. This wonderful piece of commissioned multi-coloured iconic graffiti, some 20 or 30 metres in length, now adorned a brick wall flanking one side of the ground and served as a fine and poignant reminder to the children of today, that “War Is”, quite literally, “Terror.ism”.

 

Guest speaker for the day was the FBI’s 2nd most wanted fugitive, Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, who had been flown over for this momentous East Oxford occasion from his hiding place somewhere in Iraq. Standing on a temporary podium, and looking out to a sea of expectant faces, the dodgy al-Qaeda suspect ranted on about the same old shit renouncing everything Western and anything that could be categorised as fun. It was a captivating display of ignorance and misguided stupidity, and the Mad were left wondering whether the new mural wasn’t quite in keeping with the revered image of village cricket in England.

 

 

The Cowley Marshes represents one of the more picturesque grounds in England.

 

* * *

 

On this particular day the Mad would be skippered by M. Westmoreland, who was filling the breach after regular team-cox J. Hoskins was rendered incapacitated due to sinking a boat-load of alcoholic beverages the previous day. If reports are to be believed, his piss-up of Herculean proportions was instigated after a certain (blonde) Russian woman* lifted the Wimbledon single’s title the previous day.

 

With the skies greying and the depressing surrounds not exactly stimulating the soul, the Mad opted to field first after surveying what appeared to be some dirt-track masquerading as a cricket pitch. Daisy the local Friesian cow had spent much of the week trying to iron out the irregular divots using her hooves, but clumps of gauze and wild fern had presented more of an obstacle, so these remained mostly untouched and at least provided some gentle colour to the scheme of things.

 

Opening the bowling both A. Mann and N. Hebbes kept things tidy, in particular the languid Australian import A. Mann (1-17) who’s subtle use of in-swing did for the OU opener Rundle who departed for a duck. Runs continued apace, but the fall of wickets continued apace too and the opposition soon found themselves slumping to 84 for 8 after medium pacer N. Hebbes (3-43), off-twirler J. Harris (3-27), and the skipper himself (1-36) all got amongst the wickets. From here it should have been a simple case of wrapping proceedings up, retreating pitch-side, and enjoying sandwiches and a half-time can of Stella whilst savouring a job well done. Unfortunately, as soon as the ball was tossed to I. Howarth (0-6) to run through the rabbits, the heavens opened and the Cowley Marshes soon resembled a boating park.

 

The one bonus of staging a game of cricket at the Marshes is that it is located not more than a 100 yards from the local pub. So if anyone needed an excuse to investigate the new décor of the Marsh Harrier, a torrential downpour was certainly it. Lager, cider and beer soon flowed, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the ruddy sun came back out the players from the respective teams would no doubt have enjoyed their day - although things were slightly marred by a suicide bomber blowing himself up in the pool room in protest at the £3.10 surcharge on a pint of Nelson Mandella**.

 

 

If you want a cheap pint of lager – forget the Marsh Harrier.

 

On resumption of the game, it was noted with some befuddlement that the Office #10 bat was in fact the same player who opened the batting for their cricketing counterparts, the OUP. Or as T Smith was heard to quip “that gentleman, over there – he’s a rucking finger.” Indeed he was, and together with another lower order ringer, Latif, they started slapping the ball about with alarming regularity. And just to compound matters as the score sailed past the 100 mark, a drunken S. Dobner slipped on his rear in the wet outfield and spilled a routine catch. The Office total continued to mount, as did the sixes column, and it was only when Latif, clearly enjoying the buffet on offer, slammed a full-bunger from Mr. Dobner high and mighty that the innings came to an eventual close. And how! A back-peddling J. Harris somehow clung on to a magnificent one-handed catch as he pirouetted by the boundaries edge for a contender for catch of the season, if not catch of the millennium.

 

So, the Offices had somehow totalled 135 after their perilous start, and now it was the Mad’s turn to wield the *illow on the Albanian horse-track. I. Howarth, clearly unnerved by the surrounds, swished his bat for an all too brief and distinctly unsatisfactory boundary, before he pulled a short one straight to a waiting square leg. Not a dream start by any shakes of the imagination, but S. Dobner was joined at the crease by an on-song J. Harris, and with the pitch displaying few of it’s earlier demons, the score progressed serenely past the 50 mark with both batsmen displaying a pleasing repertoire of shots.

 

 

Nice.

 

Alas, concentration drifted, and after being bowled by a no-ball, Dobner (20) was then bowled again – this time by a non-no-ball. So he was out. Rather than being not out. 51 for 2 then quickly became 62 for 6 as first Flash came and went in a… flash (bowled first ball), A. Morley went for a masterful zero, and a disappointed J. Harris (17) saw his timber rattled. The terminal decline of the innings now threatened to become a wholesale collapse when a jittery J. Hotson was also out, becoming the third duck of the innings.

 

N. Hebbes now joined M. Westmoreland at the wicket in an attempt to stabilise things. And this they did, mixing solid defence with the odd moo to leg. However, with the Mad score on 88, Martin fell over his partner’s anchor attempting a quick single and was forced off the field retired hurt (as if to justify his hypochondriac tag). Still, whilst Hebbes remained at the crease, the Mad could still smell victory. T. Mander (0) kept him company, A. Fisher (14) was great company, whilst A. Mann (7) could have been better company. Unfortunately this all left the Mad on 127 for 9, 9 short of victory, and no one left to bat. Darn it.

 

But before the OU Offices could begin their celebrations, a roar went up from the Mad faithful as miraculously (ahem), M. Westmoreland was now ready to rejoin the action (a slight scratch to his left index finger now not so sore). And as the crowd and Abu Musab al-Zarqawi held their breath, the Titanick (21*) and his skipper (31*) saw the FFTMCCC home with just one wicket to spare.

 

An excellent win. An excellent effort. Just a shame about that fucking mural.

 

* * *

 

*  -  Maria Sharapova: sexy, glamorous and good at tennis

 

**  -  Stella Artois (Keith): the ruination of many a man

 

 

‘Spam’

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

MOTM:  Calypso’s 5-star all-round game

Champagne Moment:  Calypso’s amazing one-handed catch on the boundary

Buffet Award:  Titanick (despite taking 3 wickets)

 

 

 

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