Far From The MCC

~ Est. in 1998 ~

 

“The Mad Board Various Buses,

As Tommy Plays Pinball”

 

 

Sunday 19th July 2009

Result:  Drawn

Venue:  Brasenose

35 overs

FFTMCC

141 - 9

D. Edwards  56,  I. Howarth  40,  M. Westmoreland  20

Astons CC

D.N.B

 

 

 

 

It is usually safe to assume it is the middle of July if it feels uncomfortably warm in a jacket whilst standing outside in the rain. The skies would be charcoal grey, and the daily grind of persistent drizzle would be punctuated by the odd clap of thunder and a flood inducing downpour. Gone are the hazy days of July yesteryears where you attended festivals in the glare of the sun; where you got to lie on your back on parched straw grass and watch people dance in fields through shimmering heat. You were happy then to be on whatever you were on, because failure to find your tent mattered not – because it was dry, and you could stagger and fall wherever you wanted – safe in the knowledge it wouldn’t be a muddy slush of piss and detritus washing down from the slopes all around you when you awoke in the morning.

 

 

Umbrellas? Pools of water? Must be cricket in July.

 

I’m starting to really hate July. It’s a crap month where it always fucking rains. You make outdoor plans, and it rains. But it’s summer, so you make some new plans, or you rearrange things - and it rains once more. Rain rain fucking rain. And yes, I did attend the Glastonbury festivals of 1997 and 1998 where it rained. It really fucking rained. So much so, I boshed everything I had when I first arrived, lost a day, and I awoke in a muddy puddle of piss and detritus vowing never to go back again. Now, I spend my July’s checking weather forecasts, and phoning opposing fixture secretaries to check a games still on (after it’s rained). If it is still on, it’ll probably rain anyway, so you need to ask them if they mind turning up on the proviso it might stop raining, just so we might get in a few overs of cricket in (before it fucking rains again). Since when did organising games of cricket in summer become such a chore?

 

So I was extremely heartened by the “Dunkirk” attitude of the Astons team this Sunday, that despite the horrific weather overnight and leading into the day, they were still prepared to travel over from Didcot to try and get some Sunday cricket under their belts. Their skipper Ralph summed it up quite nicely on his mobile by stating “if we don’t turn up and play, the sun will come out, and since we’ve got bugger all else to do today, we’re going to turn up. Most of my guys are drunks, and they don’t want to spend another weekend solely in the pub.” I relayed this good news to our skipper, who sat inside the Folly Bridge pub with the rest of the team – hiding from the rain. “Moo, I’ve spoken to Ralph, and they’re definitely turning up. It’s been dry near Didcot for at least 3 minutes, and that small epi-centre of non-rain is moving this way.”

 

 

The covers had more exercise than most the players….

 

It was about this time that divisions within the ranks of the FFTMCC began to become apparent, and good natured banter turned into a more argumentative office management style crossfire. J. Hoskins was quick to board the positive bus and stipulate that Brasenose had covers “and the rain outside is just a passing squall”. D. Edwards climbed eagerly onto that bus by mentioning that “we’ve paid for teas, we’ve paid for the ground, and I want a damn good bat.” Others boarded A. Fisher’s more negative bus citing it “was a complete waste of fucking time starting a game you’re clearly not going to finish”. The negative bus did become rather crowded at times, especially when non-playing T. Smith commented that he’d like to buy a pass for both buses as he was unsure where he stood on the matter in hand (he’d had a late night). With people dismounting and boarding buses at regular intervals - almost in synch with the cloud cover changing outside; and nobody seemingly able to agree on anything, both buses set off for Branenose with 20 minutes remaining for the proposed 2pm start.

 

It was somewhat ironic that after all the rainfall and bickering that the game actually started roughly on time. The FFTMCC were the beneficiaries of a rare winning of the toss (Astons lost it of course, and no, mini-Moo was not in attendance), and were more than happy to watch their opponents slip and slide on the soggy outfield chasing leather. Even more dramatic was the sudden change of weather – the sun came out! And like all those cheap recycled crappy postcards you get from shops on the Blackpool seafront, now the pavilion at Brasenose sported a line of colourful deckchairs as Mad players relaxed into their cans of lager and reading in readiness for some cricket.

 

 

Blackpool seafront.

 

Out in the middle, skipper M. Westmoreland’s (20) stay at the crease was ruined by a deflection of ball from pad to wicket. A shame, as he’d looked in good touch before that incident, and was providing a more attacking foil to D. Edwards who was carefully grafting the foundation of a total at the other end. Dan was joined at the crease by a back-to-form I. Howarth, and together they took the Mad total past 100 with no undue alarms. The bounce seemed consistent, the bowling less so, and so eyebrows were raised when Ian (40) was bowled for the umpteenth time this season by a ball that deflected from pad to wicket. He naturally moaned about “a fielder walking behind the bowler” and trotted out varying other excuses, but there was no cob as such, so maybe he’d boarded the resigned bus back to the pavilion?

 

Next up was S. Dobner, and soon to underline why his nickname should change from “Twinkle” to “Pinball” (or maybe “Tommy” – the pinball wizard?) A forward defensive sees the ball stopped in it’s tracks, bounces off the cushion of dirt, spins back against the flipper of grass, and then disappears down the gutter onto his bails for a duck. Shocking luck, and perfectly in keeping with Steve’s record of “pinball” dismissals (being bowled in an unorthodox manner; often utilising every part of his anatomy). 104 for 3.

 

 

“He’s the pinball wizard… la larrrr la-larrr…”

 

D. Emerson (3), worryingly sober, strode to the crease, and soon after, strode straight back again, but not before unfurling the best shot of the day – a towering throw of his own bat into a faraway puddle – an exemplary demonstration of cobbing. Dave, we salute you. At the other end, Dan had been suffering the jitters, having been stranded in the nervous forties for well over half an hour – he must be close to his fifty? Surely? A quick check with the scorer (J. Hotson) and he was informed it happened hours ago (his 50 that is). Relaxing in the knowledge, Dan (56) was summarily bowled hoiking to deep square cow.

 

 

Dan’s innings was all the more remarkable considering he had no bat.

 

If there is one thing that you can rely on in a Mad match, it’s the now traditional collapse. Many teams have tried to imitate, but none have ever succeeded in such a deflatory and shambolic fashion. The Far From The MCC pride themselves in a tumble of chaotic wickets, cobbing, finger pointing, blame, and the use of colourful language as a backing chorus for the event itself. 122 for 3 would quickly become 141 for 9, as the procession of hapless batmanship continued apace. M. Reeves (6) having tried valiantly to run himself out on no less than four different occasions, eventually succeeded in swishing over a straight one. A. Fisher (1) missed nearly everything including the one that hit his middle stump. J. Hoskins (2) scored at a run a ball, and JP Collins (4) scored at double the rate. All four were bowled, three of them in A. Napper’s (7-0-19-3) final over. It all left our poet, A. Morley, defiant and undefeated on an average protecting 1 not out. I. Leggate did not bat. 35 overs had elapsed.

 

Time for tea, time for the golf on tv, and time for the heavens to open once more. Whilst the romantics cried in their cuppas as ageing Tom Watson failed at the last to win his sixth golfing Open, Brasenose was swiftly smudged out under blanket grey skies and diagonal rain. It fucking pissed down. And with every attempt at removing the covers and considered attempts at more play, it fucking pissed down some more. Barrel loads of it. Bathtubs of it. Pools of water now enveloped the outfield, and after various discussions on various buses about pool systems, Duckworth-Lewis recalculations, buggering off or waiting it out, M. Westmoreland and R. Smith shook hands and agreed a draw.

 

 

Martin has a crap in front of the kids.

 

In the end, July had the final word, and whether I got on the negative or positive buses before the game is largely irrelevant. I did climb on one final bus however, I bought a ticket for the Folly bus, as this seemed to be the only vehicle that had the team united. Funny that – something that sells alcohol….

 

 

‘Spam’

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

Statto's Scorecard

No Fines on this Day

 

 

MOTM:  -

Champagne Moment:  -

Buffet Award:  -

 

 

 

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