Far From The MCC

~ Est. in 1998 ~

 

“The Mad Re-Homed

As Jake Fails To Make Lunch”

 

 

Sunday 1st June 2008

Result:  Won by 8 Wkts

Venue:  Stratford Brakes, Kidlington

35 overs

Bodleian

46 ao

J. Hoskins  3 - 5,  M. Reeves  3 - 12,  I. Howarth  2 - 2

FFTMCC

47 - 2

S. Dobner  24,  D. Edwards  19*

 

 

 

With a gap in the typically woeful early summer weather, the Far From The MCC were astounded to learn that groundsman Nick Duval had declared the water retentive pitch at Stratford Brakes as being suitable for a day’s cricket. As it transpired he was quite correct, although he couldn’t possibly have known the standard of cricket on offer would be bettered by toddlers Amie D and Molly Edwards - scything a bright orange ball around at pitch-side. The irony wasn’t lost on anyone that whilst these two blonde look-a-likes unfurled some sweetly timed pull shots into a pram and park bench, their dads were scratching about in lamentable style in the face of some extremely friendly Bodleian bowling out in the middle….

 

 

“No chance of Dan making use of this today, huh?”

 

* * *

 

June 1st 2008 would be the FFTMCC’s first match at their new home of Stratford Brakes in Kidlington. An over-zealous college had brought the curtain down on the use of Pembroke College Sports Ground in Oxford, and although it’s passing would be marked with the odd sentimental sigh, the team were more than appreciative of no longer having to march miles through thorn-riddled pathways and across rickety graffiti-daubed bridges just to get to a damned cricket ground. Another bonus was the impressive pavilion at KCC which put Pembroke’s dishevelled, rotting and antiquated shack to shame. The female restroom would now be located away from the stench and wet of the male changing rooms, a spacious dining area would now seat a healthy number of backsides for tea, and an adjoining bar threw up the opportunities of mid-innings alcoholism. And as luck would have it, a kid’s 5-a-side football tournament being played out nearby meant the bar was open for much of the day (not that drinking is important to the Mad, more a necessity).

 

With the new venue came new responsibilities; now the Mad had changing rooms to lock and unlock, a scorebox to lock and unlock, boundary markers to put out, stumps to stick in, orange juice and plastic cups to purchase before the match etc etc etc…. Jesus, it was like playing for a real fucking cricket team! Not that it stopped J. Hotson arriving some 30 minutes late for the start of the match….

 

 

Steve struggles to play the right line to a rolling ball.

 

* * *

 

Having secured the toss, returning skipper and newlywed I. Howarth had little hesitation in asking the Bodleian to have first knock on what looked a rather encouraging track for the bowlers. Indeed it was, seaming and popping off a length as the ball rapidly became a ball of mud. The opposition’s decision to welly anything up to the bat was ill-conceived as A. Mann (5-1-6-1) and M. Reeves (5-2-13-3) celebrated a tumble of wickets. Ant was awarded a plumb lbw, whilst Mike reaped the benefit from the Mad actually hanging onto their catches (S. Dobner’s ankle-high effort after an immobile lunge into the turf was probably the highlight). A ridiculous run out would further leave the Bodleian reeling on 19-5.

 

In light of recent history against these opponents, it was probably around this time that the collective will of the Mad began to falter. A yawning D. Edwards, hands firmly entrenched in pockets, barely registered a heart-beat as a ball whistled past his ear at slip. Neither did he move to one that slid off the bat almost landing on his shoelace. Elsewhere, J. Hoskins happily gazed at the clouds whilst he recalled his gambling in Vegas a few weeks earlier, whilst Stevie D left the field to retrieve Amie’s plastic stumps after a bunch of local kids decided to make off with them (a real bad idea). And etc etc etc…. In fact all that seemed to galvanise the Mad or snap them from their catatonic torpor was the reassuring sight of G. Littlechild hurling his wicket keeping gloves to the turf and howling in derision at another “blantant fucking stumping” being turned down….

 

The Bodleian would be eventually indebted to one G. Robinson (14), whose few lusty blows towards the end of their innings gave their total a modicum of respectability. He would be one of three victims who would fall foul of J. Hoskins’ (2.4-0-5-3) treacle tarts - some of his tasty puddings spinning 90 degrees in the mud. I. Howarth (3-1-2-2) knocked a couple out with head-high doughnuts, whilst A. Small (3-1-3-0) and B. Mander (3-0-16-0) went wicketless with their egg-flan and onion bhaji’s respectively. 46 all out and all very underwhelming.

 

 

The Bodleian celebrate J. Hotson’s early demise.

 

Time for tea - or at least it would have been if it were not for the premature ending of the Bodleian innings. The arrival of the players in the pavilion was met by the furrowed brows of the tea ladies; we were far too early for eats and thus it was decided that the Mad would begin their reply with a break taken mid-innings when the ladies were ready for us. So without further a do, J. Hotson and S. Dobner strapped on the pads and went out to bat. And with the small matter of just 14 runs on the board, back came Jake (2) after edging behind. With tea taken only minutes later, Hotson was soon to be found complaining over a mound of egg sandwiches that “nobody told him we were playing for lunch”….

 

On resumption of the game, the doughty D. Edwards tried his best to get himself out; twice edging past his stumps, and when Robinson grassed a sitter, any remaining Bodleian optimism went the same way as the catch. It was left to S. Dobner to smack the winning runs over mid on after a nice juicy lemon meringue pie sat up for a thrashing. Alas, our Essex stalwart made a total cow’s ear of it and was pouched for 24 by a jubilant S. Ackland. Steve’s brother-in-law, Gary, would pass Steve on his way to the crease, commenting that he thought the aforementioned shot was that of “an utter wanker”. An opinion that found warm support from most who witnessed it (even his wife). A few balls later and it was all over; Edwards (19*) and G. Littlechild (1*) nudging the required runs to protect their averages. So that was that – finally there had been some cricket after all the wet weather, but unfortunately not much of it…. And what there was was pretty forgettable. Still, it maybe appealed to the purist – somewhere….

 

 

D. Edwards (right) joins the Essex tailender.

 

* * *

 

After Ant finally resolved the complex conundrum which involved locking the scorebox up, the tribes of the Mad melted away. Where once there had been six dozen babies, a score of wives and girlfriends, and a gaggle of players - now there were just a handful. These five sat in the bar and discussed the shortcomings of the match, and after agonising over the financial implications opted for a day without fines. An obvious decision when you consider one of their number, D. Edwards, had forgotten his wallet.

 

 

‘Spam’

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

Statto's Scorecard

Match Fines

 

 

MOTM:  M. Reeves’ 3-for

Champagne Moment:  G. Littlechild’s non-stumping cob

Buffet Award:  B. Mander’s strawberry cheesecake

 

 

 

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