Far From The MCC
~ Est. in 1998 ~
“Edwards Grinds Out A Win
As Reevsie Has A Bat”
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Sunday 3rd
September 2006 |
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Result: D. Edwards Wins |
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Venue: |
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Single Wicket Competition |
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Club Day. The date in the
FFTMCC fixture list where the club celebrates itself, celebrates another year
of cricket, and celebrates all things fun and interactive without the
pressures of a competitive match. It’s a day where the girlfriends and wives
can turn out, babies can cry from their prams on the boundary, people get
drunk, and Kev the groundsman poisons us all with the rubbish he cooks on the
barbeque. In short – Club Day is fun, or at least that is the idea. But like
any organised fun event, they also require support from all who take
part. Last year worked as a combined event with the OU Offices, but previous
years had been less successful due to low numbers. How would this year pan
out?
The Mad population was rather small on this
day. By 15:30 things were
looking pretty grim at Apologies for
non-appearance: S. Dobner -
due to his beloved and Amie D being struck down with a nasty cold, our
favourite G. Littlechild - no
communication as far as his absence was concerned, so one can only theorise
as to what happened to him. Maybe he was serving a detention at his local
school? Maybe an extra delivery of vegetables needed to be sold on his stall?
Either way, our run machine failed to show. G. Carter -
poor old Geoff, now he really did have a good excuse. His recently
acquired pickup truck was nicked outside his house late Saturday evening and
used in a robbery in Bicester. Alas for Geoff, it also contained his cricket
kit – though we do wonder where his priorities lay? R. Hadfield -
Scottish wife (his own words). D. Shorten - we
believe his absenteeism was down to involvement in an under-5’s football
tournament in his back garden. How Dave could possibly participate is beyond
us….
T. Smith -
Thornton’s relocation to Bridport in Dorset could probably be accepted
as a relevant excuse, however he is adept at hitching and 2 of his team-mates
were with him on the Saturday night…. N. Hebbes -
the Mad’s very own beer-swigging Cheesite has been labouring us with
excuses all year about working in Albania, working in Germany, working
in Russia etc etc. We are yet to see any proof of these working trips,
so one can only speculate as to where Nick was on this particular Sunday….?
The North Pole maybe? S. Parkinson -
the Mad’s own Enforcer has been parading a succession of excuses out
recently after knackering his knee whilst kicking the shit out of two 11 year old bag-snatchers in E. Lester -
okay so he’s been living in B. Mander -
too busy getting ready for the arrival of his first child in St.
Ives.
Glorious weather was in evidence for Club
Day. Apologies for late
arrival: I. Howarth -
setting less an example, but more of a distinct lack of respect for
Club Day, our current skipper rocked up to the ground over 2 hours late with
stories of a car not starting due to seaside damp whilst visiting hobo T.
Smith for a weekend on the piss in Bridport. Pathetic. M. Clarke -
hitched a lift with the skipper for the weekend jaunt in Bridport
(though he probably didn’t), and therefore used the same pathetic excuse as
Ian. At least we’re used to not having Billy around…. J. Hotson - a
legendary entrance some 5 minutes shy of 17:00, Jake ambled onto the pitch
looking like an extra from Night of the Living Dead without a care in the
world. Again, at least we’re accustomed to Mr. Hotson’s poor timekeeping. Apologies for being
crocked: A. Cavanagh -
now at least the QC turned up! Albeit moaning about a one-inch scratch
to his torso that he claimed was inflicted by a machete wielding maniac in
lawless Grove one evening…. ….so, as you can
probably gauge from the sarcasm therein, Club Day suffered as per usual from
a distinct lack of apathy and another low turnout. * * * Not to be deterred,
and having arrived at the ground with a game plan of launching the much
maligned Single Wicket Competition* should numbers be small, the gentlemen of
the Mad drew names out a hat and decided on the order with which to bat. A.
Cavanagh, crippled as he was, was entrusted with the joint responsibility of
both umpiring and scoring, and after getting his head around the myriad of
rules and regulations, performed his roles admirably as the day went by.
“He picked the seam.” Lied Billy. Deciding on the
right tactics for the day was obviously paramount to one’s success, but
because of the infancy of the competition – those chosen became more of a
personal choice. A. Mann would opt to club everything out of Pembroke, but in
doing so lost his wicket twice and barely registered a score. M. Clarke would
further confuse his team-mates as to how he ever managed to notch a half-century
on tour a few years ago with some distinctly average shot selections,
whilst J-Mo would nudge and nurdle his way to a respectable score until he
was caught. I. Howarth
entertained as he swiped one delivery high over the sightscreen, but he then
ran out of gas and limped through his final over. A. Small would chip the
ball into space and run like his name was Mr. Steroids, and M. Westmoreland
would bat out of character and play with caution in mind (huge sighs of
boredom from the clamouring female spectators). A. Morley gave catching
practice to a cordon of mid-offs, M. Bullock would suffer stage fright and
barely hit the ball off the square, whilst D. Edwards was served up some suet
pudding to splatter into the railings by the train track.
Goose Man plays down the ball tampering row. So, after all this
excitement, the men of the Mad took stock and surrounded their Top Gun umpire
demanding he work out the ramifications of all the dismissals and runs scored
to see who was presently winning the competition. It transpired that Dan had
a sizeable advantage due to his hat-trick of wickets, catch, and the runs he
accrued whilst depositing Jake and Warnie to every bush surrounding the
pitch. All that was left was for something special to happen when either J.
Hotson or M. Reeves strode to the wicket for their turn with bat. Jake would
entertain yet barely threaten, but Reevsie would give it one hell of a go –
in fact he slapped an incredible 44 runs off his 3 overs to rue the fact he’d
remained wicketless all day. He also raised an eyebrow in the direction of
his skipper as if to underline the fact he COULD bat, and that to have a BAT
would be REALLY JOLLY NICE once in a while – if at all possible.
“And the winner is…. ME!! Did I tell you I
topped the averages too?” And that was that,
as the shadows lengthened across the Pembroke turf and the cricket season was
officially declared over, D. Edwards was declared the winner of the Mad’s
inaugural Single Wicket Competition with an impressive total of 54. * -
see Rules. ‘Late of Cowley’
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*