Far From The MCC
~ Est. in 1998 ~
“Sorry”
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Sunday 21st
June 2009 |
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Result: Lost by 6 Wkts |
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Venue: Brasenose |
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35 overs |
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FFTMCC |
78 ao |
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I. Howarth 37 |
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Lemmings |
82 - 4 |
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J. Hoskins 2 - 18 |
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14:12 and Skipper Steve Dobner addresses his team
by the pavilion at Brasenose: “Guys, I’ve won the toss, the pitch is as flat
as fuck, so fill yer boots – we’re batting.” (sounds of optimism and general
good banter amongst the FFTMCC ranks, plus plenty of derisory comments about
absent leader M. Westmoreland and his boy Daniel’s lack of successful coin
tossing)
Hotson
and Edwards march purposefully out (and back again shortly). 10 for 1. D. Edwards (caught behind 3): “Sorry, Steve – got
a faint edge, I think; thought it better to walk – do the right thing, ya know?” Steve: “Fair enough, mate. Didn’t hear it myself,
but nice sportsmanship nonetheless.” (waits for Dan to exit stage right)
“Bloody idiot.” 13 for 2 J. Hotson (plumb lbw 7): “Sorry Steve, I kind of
walked in front of my stumps with that one. I must try harder not to do that.
Maybe use my bat instead of my pad? At least use my bat against the ball
pitching in line and hitting half-way up middle stump. That said, if I do a
quick calculus on the theory of the ball’s projected trajectory, factoring in
the mean wind speed and overhead cloud conditions then…” Steve (interrupting): “…thanks, Jake. Whatever.” 36 for 3 Steve (caught off leading edge 7): “Fuckin’ ell.
I felt good out there. (sigh) Bollocks.” 38 for 4 D. Emerson (bowled 2): “Geez, Steve – I really am
sorry about that. My shot was shit; I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe
I’m a little too pissed or something…. Although I only had 9 pints
before we started.” N. Hebbes (having just turned up to the ground
with pram and baby Charlotte): “Sorry Steve, I would have loved to
have played today – but you know how it is. I’ll be available next week, if
selected. Oh, dear – we have made a poor start, haven’t we?” (glancing
at the scoreboard)
S.
Dobner (left) kicks his heels as Mad wickets tumble. 55 for 5 M. Reeves (caught 8): “Sorry, Steve. I don’t know
what I was thinking spooning that catch up to mid off like I did; it was
pretty poor to say the very least. I just never get a bat these days, so when
I do, I find it very difficult; and you know my house floods every year,
right?” 55 for 6 Debutant B. Harsant (caught for a duck): “Sorry
Steve. This whole cricketing lark is a bit new to me, but I did enjoy
it whilst it lasted. All two balls of it. Thank you very much for the
opportunity.” 74 for 7 J. Hoskins (bowled 9): “I’m so sorry, Steve – I
honestly can’t fathom why I played that shot just then. Jesus, I’m so
angry. I’m always bloody bowled. I was convinced I’d score a hundred today –
maybe even two hundred. Oh, bloody hell. It’s not fair. I deserve a hundred,
as I’m the probably the best batsman this club has ever had.” (deep sigh and
sulk)
Poached
egg, anyone? 75 for 8 Steve (umpiring): “Ian, you really need to get
your head down here – you are the last recognised batsman, so nothing stupid
– we have to get over a hundred. At least have some sort of total to
defend.” Ian (bowled 37): “Fuck. Sorry Steve, I really
haven’t got a clue what I was trying to do there. Was it really a straight
delivery? I thought it was outside the off stump…. (sigh) I really should
have batted through. I’m off to throw my bat about and swear in the pavilion.
Fuck fuck fuck.” Steve (umpiring): “Blind twat.” 76 for 9 A. Fisher (caught 1): “Sorry Steve, my shot was
very irresponsible. I should have taken your advice and batted out the
remaining overs, but I chose to ignore you as I thought I was right in trying
to up the run-rate. In most situations I am always right, but this
maybe wasn’t one of them – although that said, we do need to up the run-rate.
So perhaps I was right, and in which case, I’m not sorry. Just sorry I
didn’t get going.” 78 all out off 24 overs A. Morley (bowled 2): “Sorry, Mr. Leggate
(marooned 0 not out at non-striker’s end).” (returning to the club house)
“Sorry, Steve – I just couldn’t seem to get my eye in; not sure that I’m
pissed enough. I’m going to have to knock this sobriety and driving to cricket
matches on the head – it’s clearly affecting my ability to smack a
jaw-dropping 27 down the order.”
A.
Morley would survive this stumping appeal (home town decision etc). Tea. S. Dobner addresses various members of the
Lemmings team (who can be bothered to listen) as they devour the lavish Tesco
Value sandwich spread: “Guys, I really am sorry about our batting display was
inept – it was utter gash. I really don’t know what happened. We’ll be much
better in the field though, so don’t you worry – we’ll make a game of it.” M. Reeves to D. Edwards: “I really didn’t hear a
nick you know – that ball that got you out earlier. I wouldn’t have given it
if you hadn’t walked.” D. Edwards: “(sigh) That sucks. I’m sorry I
walked now.” M. Reeves: “Hmm, sorry.” 17:08 and the teams take to the field. 5 for 1 J. Hoskins 5-1-18-2 (M. Baker lbw 4):
“Yeeeeeeeeeees! That was the best delivery I have ever bowled. It came
in some 18 inches, and it swung. I’m the best bowler the Mad has ever seen.
Did you know I got Tetworth’s pro out the other week?” I. Howarth: “Sorry, J-MO – but the Lemmings have
reversed their batting order. He wasn’t a proper opener. In fact, he
wasn’t very good at all. Shit to use a less glowing description of his
batting acumen.” A. Fisher: “Sorry, J-MO, but you’re talking
bollocks. My strike-rate is far superior to yours; in fact, it far superior
to anybody’s – including that Aussie that sodded off whence he came
from. So therefore I am the best bowler the Mad has ever seen.” 25 for 2 D. Emerson 5-0-19-1 (G. French caught 17): “That
god for that. Steve, I am so sorry about my bowling today. Christ, I
can’t remember the last time I bowled sixteen wides down the leg side….” J. Hotson (keeping): “Not as sorry as I am.” J. Hoskins (under his breath): “A wide for every
pint you drank beforehand….” (still sulking about his earlier dismissal)
“This
paper does not tell me what a Lemming is, or where it lives?” 36 for 3 J. Hoskins (P. Scarborough c & b 1): “We’re
back in this guys! I totally deceived him with my new top-spinning slider I
learnt off that West Indian test-cricketer the other week.” A. Fisher: “Sorry, James – but you are totally
deluded. And you’re talking bollocks. That guy who shovelled that catch
couldn’t hold a stick of rhubarb.” 46 for 4 A. Fisher 4-0-16-1 (T. Wood bowled 16): “Sorry
Steve, I really did take my time getting my line and length sorted there.” I. Howarth: “Sorry Adie, but that was pure pie.
In fact, it was a crisply baked sausage roll spectacular.” M. Reeves 4-1-5-0: “Sorry Ian, but I thought it
more a glazed doughnut that did him.” D. Edwards 2-0-11-0 (at slip): “Sorry guys, but
this is cricket in it’s poorest form. My girls wouldn’t have eaten that if
they were starving.” S. Dobner: (sigh) 82 for 4 off 20.1 overs
Despair
sets in (please note A. Fisher in background). S. Dobner shakes the hands of P. Scarborough
(20*) and Mr. Hukins (17*) as they traipse off the ground: “Guys, I really am
so sorry we played so crap. And to think most of you drove all
the way from I. Howarth speaking to fellow Fixture Secretary
J. Baker: “Mate, really sorry about that, we were shit. I’m really depressed
about it.” J. Hoskins (to all Lemmings in any order):
“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.” B. Harsant: “What a sorry day’s cricket. Are you
guys always this shit?” A. Fisher (to everyone in the changing rooms):
“Quite terrible. I’m retiring, I’ve had enough. This is bollocks. Sorry.”
I. Leggate (at the pub after the game): “Sorry,
but could someone tell me exactly what a Lemming is? Do they really live at
the foot of cliffs?” ‘Spam’ |
*
MOTM:
Champagne Moment: A. Morley’s
telescopic leg to stop the ball
Buffet Award: