Far From The MCC

~ Est. in 1998 ~

 

“Mad Suffer Tour Hangover

In Cholsey Warzone”

 

 

Sunday 23rd August 2009

Result:  Lost by 8 Wkts

Venue:  Cholsey

35 overs

FFTMCC

110 - 7

M. Westmoreland  34,  S. Dobner  28

Cholsey

111 - 2

I. Howarth  1 - 8

 

 

 

It’s a given that the Far From The MCC are crap after they return from tour. They don’t exactly hit the ground running, more nosedive into the turf with kit bags on fire. Why? Nobody is really sure, it’s just the way it’s always been. Maybe their Tour of Duty in Lincolnshire had really taken it out of them this time? Sunday’s dispiriting defeat to a bunch of Cholsey mercenaries and village recruits was probably shoulder to shoulder with some of the most turgid battles in living memory; I mean, you have to go right back to the last time the Mad Unit was deployed in Cholsey… just over a year ago.

 

 

Brigadier M. Westmoreland now wears a lid after a bullet at Louth CC.

 

There were ominous portents for the day as soon as the brigade arrived at the Red Lion pub for a pre-match beer. Dave Emerson and Ian Howarth had both colluded on the journey to the village on who wanted to do what on the day, and suggested to Brigadier M. Westmoreland that they reverse their roles for the day. To their amazement, Martin accepted their suggestion and called their bluff. “Fine guys. If that’s what you want to do, then you do it. Dave – you’re opening the batting with me, and Ian – you can open the bowling and bat where that idiot usually bats. Don’t let me down. Failure is not an option.”

 

An intriguing win of the toss left Brigadier Westmoreland with an intriguing decision to make. As this skirmish wore on, did he think this arid wasteland of a pitch was going to further resemble an Iraqi football pitch, or was it going to flatten out as the sun beat down? Intriguingly, Martin opted to bat first – memories of the Mad’s last slaughtering in the Cholsey killing-fields evidently only too raw.

 

 

D. Emerson (0) misses one of the four balls he can see.

 

The decision looked a poor one as soon as the ball started to go through it’s various dance routines – popping, grubbing, seaming and jarring. Occasionally the bowler could get one to explode off the surface, much like an incoming rocket-propelled grenade; at other times, the bowler could bowl one wide of the stumps and watch it cut in like a wicket-seeking missile. But none of this myriad of ball probabilities had a hand in opener D. Emerson’s dismissal for a duck - Dave simply lobbing a grenade back to the bowler. Job done, he then retreated to the shade of some trees and slept for the next hour or so – oblivious to the sound of enemy gunfire all around him.

 

 

A tough day out for the Mad’s new star opener.

 

For the next 20 overs or so, S. Dobner (28) and the doughty Westmoreland (34) fought bravely to fence off any flying shrapnel, but it was tortuous going. You could never really time anything, and if you did, it came to an abrupt halt in the long grass in the outfield. Martin eventually fell after one swing too many, but entertained all with his first decent stab at a Parkinson-esque cob. Grinder S. Dobner followed soon after – his dot strewn innings failing to find applause from D. Edwards, as our erstwhile tree surgeon was in the Green Zone of Cowley celebrating his daughter’s Birthday. Progress was marginally enlivened by A. Darley’s (12) brief cameo which included a nice straight six, but mortar fire put paid to him after his armour plating came undone.

 

The Mad innings would eventually stall on 110-7 after M. Clarke (3) strayed dumbly into machine-gun fire, M. Bullock (9) hit an improvised landmine, and I. Howarth (0) triggered a roadside bomb (and sledging from his own platoon). It all left A. Fisher (8*) and M. Reeves (1*) to carry their fallen comrades back to camp.

 

Tea was then served up at Camp Edam, and casualties treated. Deserters I. Leggate and J. Hoskins were summarily flogged for their failure to help out the Mad cause. James was particularly annoyed at his treatment citing “I am the best soldier this brigade has ever had, how dare you accuse me of desertion! I should have been leading our men into this battle, not sat on the sidelines; and for the record – I am probably the best Brigadier this unit has ever had.” It is perhaps worth noting, that food served at the camp contained several alternatives to the famous Cholsey cheese – perhaps the local dairy farm had suffered a direct hit?

 

 

Cob.

 

After repelling the Mad Unit’s attack, the Cholsey war machine got rolling. I. Howarth (5-3-8-1) repaid some of his Brigadier’s trust by prising out S. Haigh for 8, but M. Reeves (5-0-22-0) was less accurate, eventually being pulled from the tank turret after his ammunition failed to make a dent. J. Hoskins (5.3-0-20-1) dodged some flak, but otherwise took hits to his reinforced panelled jeep – the one bright spot being R. Sweirgon (23) holing out to an excellent catch on the boundary by M. Clarke (at the second attempt). Thereafter, the battle that waged was all one way traffic, with Cholsey star Ali D (29*) the most damaging with his anti-tank missiles. D. Emerson (4-0-26-0) woke up just in time to see napalm blitz his final over, whereas S. Dobner (5-0-12-0) and A. Darley (3-0-7-0) failed to take out any of the Cholsey snipers despite using expensive camouflage.

 

 

“Adie, this is shit.” “Agreed, Warnie – this is turd of the smelliest form.”

 

As the Mad platoon retreated, J. Hoskins threw a final hand grenade in anger – predictably it failed to go off as the mercenaries of Cholsey planted their flag with 8 wickets to spare. Stretchering their wounded comrades, the Mad decamped back to the Red Lion in the village where Brigadier Westmoreland announced “that was pitiful - the lowest of the low. I will never listen to anybody ever again. In fact, that was so bad, I am resigning from next week’s skirmish in Holton. Field Marshall Reeves will be taking over. Bugger the lot of you.”

 

 

‘Mr. Mannering’

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

MOTM:  S. Dobner because everyone else was crap

Champagne Moment:  M. Clarke’s catch after he dropped it

Buffet Award:  D. Emerson’s sleepy Kiwi steak burgers

 

 

 

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