Far From The MCC

~ Est. in 1998 ~

 

“Apple Turnover”

 

 

Sunday 6th June 2010

Result:  Lost by 142 Runs

Venue:  Brasenose

40 overs

Appleton CC

240 - 7

J. Pearson  2 - 40,  D. Emerson  2 - 42

FFTMCC

98 ao

J. Pearson  21,  M. Westmoreland  17

 

 

 

So the Mad congregated at the Folly for the first home game of the season and what a ramshackled bunch they looked. The effects of the 20/20 win against the offices less than 48 hours before had certainly taken its toll. As had the 48 pints consumed since then. Nevertheless several members of the team chose the traditional pre match snack of either full English or full Sunday lunch. Welcome Paddy, team debutante and now MAD player number 110. Why are you eating a roast dinner with your fingers? Oh fair enough, you’ve seen the state of the cutlery.

 

Five. Four. Three. <Dave Emerson> no, it’s not going to rain, bet anyone a pound that we get a full game in. Two. One. …. and it’s raining.

 

 

Dave looks at the weather, or was he looking for divine intervention?

 

At 1:30 decided to meander over to the ground. What should we find there? Eleven guys, who looked young, athletic, in short they looked like a cricket team. They were doing this weird ritual of throwing a ball to each other, they called it a warm up. Where’s the team we squeezed out by one run during a 20/20 at your place last season? Why haven’t you bought your third team? Oh you are the third team, great, just hope we win the toss.

 

Martin claims he didn’t actually loose the toss. Apparently given the choice, he would have called tails and tails it was. So in effect he just didn’t win the toss. Still 50p mate. Oh well, 40 overs in the field should blow away the cobwebs and give us a hearty appetite for tea.

 

 

Dave’s (2) later stumping with the Mongoose seemed to epitomise the day.

 

Emerson (8-1-42-2) and Pearson (8-0-40-2) opened brightly, making the most of the over cast conditions to exact some early swing. But then, what a shower as drop, drop, drop went the rain went the MAD fielders. Only the treasurer was happy as the 25p’s rolled in. Finally after an inspired fielding change by the skip, Shorten managed to hang on to one. Soon after Pearson was just too good for the other opener. Shorten (7-0-47-1) replaced Emerson and his first ball was a peach, moved a mile. Appleton were 42 for 3 and suddenly the sky and the match were looking a whole lot sunnier.

 

It was all downhill from there though as the ravages of a total of 31 overs fielding is less than 48 hours came home to roost. Howarth especially was bitching about something or other. Edwards (4-1-12-0) had a note from home saying that Dan should be excused from games this week as he had a poorly knee from Friday. Reeves (3-0-18-1) lasted barely three overs before claiming a tight calf muscle and the delayed effects of cycling across America would probably rule him out for the season. The skip (6-0-39-1) took all this in good heart (you bunch of wasters, or some such) and consulted his bowling rota whilst harbouring dark thoughts.

 

 

“Rig this laptop up, and I’ll rig the Fantasy Cricket.”

 

A Gilkes of Appleton was starting to hit his stride and what was left of the Mad bowling attack. Catches continued to be dropped and James Pearson continued to hare around the outfield filling the gaps left by the cripples. Leggate (4-0-43-0) raised his hands to the heavens apparently appealing to the Gods of rain for some intervention. A few minutes after a ball had landed only a few feet from his upturned palms his strange ritual was answered as a drizzle turned into a deluge. We were off at over 35.5, amid mutterings of ‘declare’ and ‘Duckworth Lewis’. Spam got his head down for forty winks in the changing room, but all too soon for him the clouds parted and we were back on. Pearson returned for what must be one of the worst spells in MAD history, his one ball being smacked for four. The carnage finally ended with the MAD requiring 240 to win at exactly a run a ball.

 

 

The Howarth teas involved fuck all effort on Ian’s part.

 

They say football is a game of three halves, the first half, the second half and half time. Well cricket doesn’t have half time, it has tea. Some look to tea as the highlight of a match, but not generally at Brasnose. Too long we have suffered with under cooked sausage rolls and uninspired sandwiches. But what is this? Do my tired eyes deceive me? Plates pilled high with sandwiches of the highest quality and choicest fillings, pasta, quiche, cakes, savoury bits. Vicki we love you, come and be our Mum every week. Can we organise a bake off with the Dobners? Not even Spam’s stories of ‘Booning’ whilst Vicki was buttering the bread could divert us from the delicious fare. Come back Adie Small, it’s a new dawn.

 

With one eye on the weather and the other on a Duckworth Lewis app, the MAD started their innings. After two overs with the score on 8 for nought it was generally agreed that if we’d found a Duckworth Lewis app it would say we were there or there abouts. The torrential rain had softened the outfield turning fours into twos and twos into ones. The consensus was that we were in effect chasing 260. Who knows what happened after that, Dan (12) paddled a full toss back to the bowler, Howarth (8) “blah blah, moved about a foot, blah blah”, Mellor (9) chipped to gully, Emerson (9) ditto, and Westmoreland (17) and Pearson (21) shone briefly but eventually succumbed. The real game was occurring beyond the boundary rope where T. Smith (4) had just invented frisbee, beer can, sausage roll, Aunt Sally (later to be termed Frisbeer). Players on the pitch couldn’t understand why loud cheers from the pavilion didn’t coincide with either boundaries or wickets.

 

 

Hotson (right) was ran out for the second time in 3 days.

 

With the score on 97-8, Leggate (0) and Hotson (1) decided to forego the time honoured calling tradition of “yes, no or wait” and instead opted for “hmmm, I think there might be two there, let’s run the first one, then meet back here in the middle in a couple of minutes and decide from there. Agreed, see you in a mo”. Needless to say Hotson was a yard or two short for the second time in two days. At this point Reeves hobbled to the crease, having only just returned from cycling across America a year ago and requested a runner. Of course there was only one possible candidate. Jake did manage to stay in his crease just long enough to see Leggate castled at the other end. 98 all out, oh well, at least Emerson was right.

 

 

“Jesus, guys – this lot have batted like a bunch of dicks.”

 

Yes, one team received a lesson this day. A lesson in how to run a fines committee! The amateurs of Appleton with their ‘own ground’ and their ‘reasonably priced teas’ can afford to raise less than £2 per player. The MAD however have to up the ante a bit, congratulations chairman Leggate. Thank you Solicitor Paddy, nice one Mr. Shorten, welcome to the Mongoose multiplier, well worth £5.

 

So beaten, injured, hungover, stuffed, fleeced. See you next Sunday. Of course.

 

 

‘Reevsie’

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

MOTM:  J. Pearson’s runs, catch and wickets

Champagne Moment:  D. Shorten’s in-swinging first ball wicket

Buffet Award:  I. Leggate’s award winning apple doughnuts

 

 

 

(...back )