Far From The MCC
~ Est. in 1998 ~
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Sunday 28th
August 2005 |
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Result: Lost by 54 Runs |
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Venue: |
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40 overs |
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Cholsey |
239 - 7 |
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A. Mann 3 - 39 |
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FFTMCC |
185 - 7 |
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S. Dobner 54, |
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In the past, especially when formerly known
as Jude the Obscure, the No-Mad have tinkered with the customs, if not the
laws of the game, occasionally to their advantage. Few will forget the “Ball
of Victory” photograph, taken before ignominious defeat. Back in the last
century, 1999 to be precise, then-captain A. Mann instigated the Nine Man
theory, whether by cunning design or by the fact there were only nine people
available to play on a sunny afternoon at Marcham. Three of Mann’s nine were debutants,
but a comprehensive victory was achieved, and the Nine-Man theory became
stuff of legends.
A. Mann
instigated Nine Man theory. In more recent
times, even international cricket has been under the purist’s microscope.
Having investigated the Nine Man theory of yesteryear, and presumably the
huge American Football-esque squad rotation system of Sven Joran Eriksson –
which has been put to “good use” in several friendly internationals, our
governors the ICC have opted not for a nine man game but for twelve, whereby
the twelfth man, previously merely a porter of sweaters and drinks, can now
take his place in the field in place of a batsman, who is either too
knackered to field, or is just plain crap at it. Not wishing to be
usurped in the field of invention, current No-Mad captain J. Hoskins duly
came up with a cunning plan to beat the Cholsey cheese boys.
N. Hebbes gets a
large boot in the head at pre-match nets. The initial approach
was conventional in the extreme. It was a game of ten a side, which is
slightly unconventional, I suppose, but the fact that the No-Mad had as many
players as the opposition rendered the numerical game a little irrelevant.
Had it not been for P. Jackson, then the numbers involved in the game as a
whole would have been significantly lower all round. Jackson raced to his
fifty after Nine-Man theorist A. Mann had taken early wickets, and by the
time S. Dobner, I. Howarth and T. Smith had rattled the middle order, word
circulated across the globe’s newswires that Not wishing to miss
this spectacle, Mr Jackson (senior) and his wife arrived at the Pembroke
ground having travelled from Tunbridge Wells by hovercraft, and they were in
time to see their son strike successive boundaries of A. Mann (3-39) to reach
his maiden ton, make it to 105, and then be bowled, all within the space of
three balls. He received a standing ovation. The lower order spluttered on
for another two overs or so, distracted by jubilant celebrations on the boundary,
but the total was stretched to 239-7 off an exhausting 40 overs.
Spot Kev’s
famous egg-mayonnaise sandwiches. Over egg sandwiches,
captain J. Hoskins hatched a cunning plan. Only the previous evening, whilst
preparing for the game under the curfew of no sex and no alcohol, the skipper
had chanced upon Agatha Christie’s “Ten Little Indians”, where one by one the
ten men disappear, and had also had the chance to review the legendary
Australian physician, Dr Ricky P. Onting’s twelfth man dissertation, in which
he argues against the use of the twelve man theory, even if all of your
bowlers have weak bladders and dodgy shoulders and have to be replaced by a
Jonty Rhodes clone after every bowling spell. Apparently, despite some rich
language, the Doctor was not at all bitter. And so Hoskins came
up with an idea, and set about foxing the Cholsey boys with some intriguing
tactics, preferring the Christie plan to that of Ponting or the ICC. I.
Howarth batted first, and departed for nine. Once out, and before he could
shower, he was dispatched from the ground. And then there were nine.
N. Hebbes lays a
solid foundation for the No-Mad. G. Carter (29)
joined N. Hebbes (37) and they added some runs, and when S. Dobner scored
freely on his way to 54, the target looked well within reach. The King of
Moo, M. Westmoreland, was dropped down the order for the King of Spin M.
Bullock to have a knock (27*), but at the other end T. Smith (2) and J.
Hotson (4) fell cheaply, and then A. Mann fell in the style of the great
Australian doctor, taking a quick single to by far the best fielder on the
park. Silly boy. At this point, Hoskins sent M. Westmoreland home so that he
couldn’t bat, apparently as part of the overall plan. And then there were
eight. Hoskins himself took
to the field to bash a quickfire nine, and in the process (and very openly)
protect his average, and when 71 runs were required with two overs left, all
looked lost. Which was mostly true. Everything wasn’t lost but the game was;
the No-Mad eventually fell 54 runs short.
The Cholsey
innings would prove a daunting total for the No-Mad to chase. * * * Reflecting on the
diminishing team theory after the team’s last game of the season at Pembroke,
captain J. Hoskins was uncharacteristically quiet. Only three players had
made it to the pub as part of the plan, and the atmosphere was strangely
end-of-term muted, and even the fines committee failed to function. Hoskins
himself put the time to good use negotiating the use of the Cholsey track for
the following week’s fixture, and when G. Carter left, I sat alone at the
table, for a few minutes at least. And then there were
none. ‘Beer Matt’ |
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No Fines on this day |
MOTM: no votes cast
Champagne Moment: no votes cast
Buffet Award: J. Hotson’s
blackcurrant cheesecake