Hand Bags At 22 Paces

Well done to Ali D for winning the World Cup Predict-A-Score. After weeks on top Nige fell at the next to last.


The Saturday Team lost to Wrington by 7 wickets.

This was one of our home matches that was away, that is it was played on the top pitch at Fry’s “The Home of Turkish Delight”, unfortunately Turks-U-Like were right out cricketers leaving the Cowboys with two scousers, a Welshman, a Scot, a Spaniard Kicker and Eddy Bridges. The opposition arrived with a young bloke with a healthy hue, big shoulders and a suspiciously confident manner, although it has to be said he did not have the look of a man who knows what it is like to be taken up the Dardanelles nor indeed the Bosphorus. In the absence of our glorious and beloved leader, Gibbo took the toss and won it, we elected to bat.

Things got off to an awkward start when Eddie “Thunderous 30 Yard Drive” Bridges gave a team talk. It had something to do with having ones foot on a tiger’s throat, scrap merchants and going over the top. Bemused, Gibbo and Grove strode manfully (well, as normal Grove minced slightly) to the crease keeping a wary eye out for tigers with laryngitis and German scrap merchants. After a few overs of playing and missing Gibbo strode manfully back to the shed/pavilion. Ben strode to the crease hit 4 and strode back. Harry strode out for the first time as a Saturday player, got stuck on his back foot for a few overs while he admired the uneven bounce and then strode back. Enter Iggy Iggins, man of… well if not iron maybe pewter, hero of the Sunday Second team and scorer of runs akimbo and indeed aplenty, here for his Saturday Team début. Iggy slashed and sliced his way to 15 and then the first one he really got hold off flew to square leg where it was caught with a superb diving catch by a spritely young chap… who we found out after the game is 64! What do they put in the water in Wrington? It was becoming obvious that a batting collapse was occurring and that the pitch was a lot worse that it looked, popping and shooting unpredictably. But who is this approaching the crease in a confident, paella hating style, why of course Ducth the mild mannered Cloggmiester.

Now, last week Grove walked on the faintest of edges for a second ball duck, surely lightening would not strike twice? Well almost. Shortly after Ducth’s arrival he had biffed a couple of 4s and was just warming up his lightly oiled torso as it glistened in the sultry afternoon heat when Grove thrashed gaily at a ball that climbed up his leg side, there was an appeal and a bemused Grove looked at Eddy “Standing 22 Yards Away Thunder Struck Umpire” Bridges who was unmoved. Dear reader, sure he was not out Grove did not walk. One of the opposition’s senior players lost it and had a go at Eddy, at the end of the over he also had a go at Grove and had to be silenced by his team mates. There was a nasty whiff of stale Edam in the air as Dutch, upset by the abusing of his beloved and most treasured team mates, lost his cool and swung at a full one, the foe bayed as they saw their nemesis from the away fixture depart cheaply. Dutch, tulips visibly wilting, strode angrily back to the shed.

Following this kerfuffle the bad vibes continued when Ben’s Brother Tom, also on début, got a nasty shooter. Grove tried to keep his cool but was bowled a few overs later, as he departed a sarky comment of “Oh, out this time then” came from the opposition captain’s direction. Grove looked at him over his glasses thinking dark thoughts and departed the field. He managed to keep it together noticing the opposition’s sole supporter applauding politely as he approached the boundary, but lost it as he crossed the line. Grove called the senior player a few choice names and then release a tirade of obscenities against the foe’s captain, he questioned his parentage, he compared him to various parts of the female anatomy, he then tried a few bits  of the male anatomy to see if they fitted before suggesting that the gentleman in question was an onanist, all in ear shot of the supporting lady; oh, dear reader, this turned out to be the opposition captain’s wife.

After the innings was over Dodger had a few words with the foe’s captain and senior player, nobody knows what was said but it resulted in Grove receiving a “full and frank apology” from the senior player in the toilets at tea. Gosh! After tea and with only 106 all out from 27.5 overs on the board Health Hugh set about our bowling. Even Dutch’s Spanish hating malice could not stop him biffing a few 4s and taking the game away from us in just a few overs, and although he was out for 38 Wrington easily knocked off the runs in 18.3 overs for the loss of 3 wickets.

After the game, and I am guessing a few words in his ear from here and there, the foe’s captain bought Grove a pint and they kissed and made up in a man to man, mono a mono type of way.

But there you have it, another woeful batting performance and another defeat, the top of the table surrendered to the foe.

MOM – as a measure of how badly we played Gove got MOM for top scoring with 19 in about 24 overs.

Cider Moment – The not walking incident in various and “humorously” stated versions.

Full match report here.


Combe Down defaulted when confronted by the Sunday 1st Team.

The Sunday Second Team had a friendly in the nether regions of Devon and have not been heard of since.

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