Rascals v's Chelsea Arts Club

 

The day seemed not to be starting all that well; the forecast was for weather of biblical proportions from 1 pm.  Arriving at the Bell to find that a full rehearsal for the trooping of the colours was underway and the shocking yellow orb was burning in the sky in a way that we Brits have become entirely unaccustomed to, rather raised my spirits!  This was dampened again by the news that Dale Steyn was playing for the opposition and, due to a total lapse of basic bodily functions, the Rascals Executive Committee (Ed) had offered the Farts a timed game with no limit on the bowlers.  What had got into them?  Mr Raikes, a late addition to our team, who had started the day professing a level of expertise at bowling that had never before been seen by the Rascals, began to retract all prior statements and claim that he was, in fact, actually of the female persuasion and was only having us on.  A true Rascal then? 

A 2.30 start seemed unlikely as 70% of the opposition were stuck in a London car park aka the M25 and looked unlikely to join us until the evening pub session.  This put the fully formed Rascal team into a dilemma; should we a) drink more beer or b) force the Farts to play with 4 people.  After much discussion a brilliant and cunning plan was set upon.  We would turn the match into an overs game, drink more beer AND get them to play with a diminished team.  We did though allow that they could bat first even without a traditional tossing of some legal tender in the middle of the square.

Around about 3.00 we do find ourselves at the pitch, looking out at the square, wondering if Noah has kindly left a boat for us to board.  Mike & Russell though look kindly down on the rag tag bunch that call themselves Rascals, parted the clouds and pushed the extraordinary yellow ball (any suggestions as to what it was, gratefully received) back into pole position in the sky.

3.30 and the game is underway.  The Farts set about their inning with gusto.  Early doors there were some pretty poor displays of fielding (nuff said), but it has to be conceded that their team contained some pretty natural hitters.  A bright spark at the end was provided by Mr Raikes who proved himself a more than useful bowler who we might hope to get more than 2 overs out of sometime in the future?  Raikes 2 wickets, PK 2 and Hamish 1 saw the Farts close their 30 overs out at 233 runs for 5 wickets.  Mere bagatelle the Rascals cried (ho, ho)!

 

 

A simply awesome tea was provided by the Chair's wife, ably helped by Van, a rare a wondrous sight at the pitch these days.  Thankfully the truly excellent tea was prolonged by another monsoon being unleashed by the heavens.  Much ‘told you so’ from Ross aka Cassandra, but play did resume shortly although mutterings about the light had already started.  Ross and Drew took the field.  Amazingly, shockingly and against all predictions Dale Steyn did not open the bowling, instead we had to take on the aggressive and accurate pace bowling of Diago the Dreadful.  As it turns out they were saving Dale for the 2^nd over.  Even more extraordinary, all the videos we had been watching in the build up to the game proved false, he is clearly injured!  Ross and Drew went on to knock up 75 odd runs before Ross finally succumbed to an Andersonesque ball (and seriously problematic light conditions) on 28.  By the time we had reach 83 the light had become so bad that we might as well have been playing a charity blind match.  Added to this the rain was beginning to fall pretty hard again and it was decided that the delights of the smoking room at the Bull were more enticing than the game.  It was duly abandoned.

Who out there understands the Gordian knot that is Duckworth Lewis?  They reached 233 for 5 after 30 overs, we were on 83 for 1 after 13.3, surely we won?  Whatever the weather, we repaired to the aforementioned smoking room and debated this and other deeply philosophical matters, like is the service better at the Bull or the Bell and how to avoid the M25 when returning to London.

Anyway a great day.  Well captained Captain, well chaired Chair, great strip Stripper and well done Ross for beating extras to be top run scorer for us!  Oh, and we miss you Nielo, come back soon.

PK

Rascals v's Canbashers

We won again! This is turning into a bit of 'roll' thingy! Huzzar!!

Skills Commented:

Great innings from Jamie M (12th man!), Super bowling from Kit, with a very cool catch from Hamish M off his bowling, and some sharp fielding from Harry T. The younger Rascals had a great day. Just need to get Fred K on the pitch, just not umpiring when a bit overly relaxed, so to speak.

Great win, one and all.

 

The Rascals vs The Valley of Love July 6th 2013

Sadly this Saturday was yet another clash with various sports days/prize-givings etc.  As a result there were only 4 Sussex/Kent Rascals, with the addition, of course, of The Treasurer.  Jim had to rope in a few locals as well as his eldest Tom.  However, we were blessed with a belter of day from start to finish.

Whatever was to transpire later, The Rascals won the pub entrenchment cup, being the first to arrange in any numbers.  Philip Richardson, who had sneezed earlier in the week and put his back out, nobly made his way down from London by train to attend to the score book and with Fred and Felix Keeling present it felt very much like a regular turnout at the Bell/Bull.

Amazingly we all managed to get to the delightful Linkenholt pitch by 2.30pm and were under way by a tad after 3.00pm.  With no Neilo (in Croatia filming Feast of Boobs) or Teddy (three line whip family ‘do’) it fell upon a somewhat baffled Chairman to guide the Rascals.  This entailed swatting up on, not only the names of the all the fielding positions, but also the names of those whom Jim had kindly sourced to fill the side.  I now understand the headaches that are associated with captaincy, which appear to induced by a great deal of maths and memory.  The toss was at least one decision I did not have to make, as it was deemed appropriate, due to some late VoL members (sports days/prizegivings), that we fielded first.  Despite the two Keeling’s enthusiasm as opening bowlers, and the loss of the VoL opener with the total on 12, it soon became clear that the taking of further wickets and stemming the run rate was going to prove hard (some dropped catches not assisting). Batsmen numbers 2, 3 and 4 duly retired having reached 50 (18 fours and 6 sixes) and by the time the innings had been reduced to 28 overs from the original 30 (playing havoc with my bowling strategy and increasing my mathematical angst) The Valley had posted a total of 225! Bugger was it hot too………

A jolly good tea (splendid cakes) was washed down with very welcome cold beers (and tea) and it wasn’t long before Jamie Carter and Alec Cramsie took to the crease.  Unfortunately, after six overs we were three down with only 20 on the board.  Despite everyone scoring a few runs (except Ant…..sorry Ant!) and a dogged stand by Felix Keeling, the ‘hill to climb’ was overwhelming and we found ourselves all out for 146 with three overs to spare.  Not the most auspicious skippering debut…….

There is no doubt that The Valley have some very good cricketers, so, Rascals, next year, we need to step up to the mark. Caaan you Dig it?

Huge thanks must go to the supremely generous Ruherfords for putting on yet another super evening where we all wanted for naught

Your Chairman

The 16TH Mike Martin Memorial Match

After the gloom and mizzle of Friday, we were blessed with a glorious day for this most splendid of annual shambles.  Clashes with Glastonbury and various school sports/prize days meant we were perhaps not the overflowing cornucopia of Rascals of yore but, nevertheless, there was a fine showing of both old faces and new.  The day was made extra special by the presence of Jennet, all the way from Edinburgh, Andy Hobsbawm mit kids and Katie Berger, sporting latest fella.

Any plans that the foolish chairman/groundsman/secretary/bankroller/chef might have had about eating at 1.15pm, were firmly quashed, as, by 12.30, the ground still resembled Death Valley, with only the two Beattie’s sheltering from the cruel sun in their canvas-sided wagon, en route to a new life in California. But, as ever, in dribs and drabs, players and guests arrived, and by 1.30 I felt it safe to slam in the lamb.  By this time Mr. Grigson already had had to return home once after leaving a bag full of valuables in his driveway (…it never rains…).  This was not only most grievous for him, but also deprived us all of the annual carnival that is the Grigson Gazebo Erection Spectacular.  Tim’s rather anodyne (in comparison) ‘pop-up’ jobbie – for which we thank him – took it’s stead.

It should be noted that the we received word, at about midday, that Teddy, skipper of the side that bears his name, was on the Edgware Road, stuck behind a Gay Pride march.  The jury is out as to whether it is considered more fortuitous to be stuck behind or in front of a Gay Pride march.  By 1.30pm he had made it to Clapham Common where he was able to put into practice all that was learnt in the previous hour and a half. Sadly he was inevitably destined to miss out on his grub (I did save some for him).

Lunch, including Clifton salad (a bit like Caesar but with more suspension – arrgghh!) and Eton Mess, was considered a succes by all, and by 3.30 there was runour afoot of imminent cricket.  With still no Teddy it was decided by Club Captain Neilo that I should skipper the Skilbeck XI until such time as he arrived.  I happily accepted, not knowing the tsumani of decisions that was only five minutes away.  Neilo and I tossed on the square (pre-match traditional display put on for the ladies) which I won and decided to chase.  Once back at the pavilion I had already forgotten what ‘to chase’ meant, and had to be reminded on a number of occasions whether the Skilbecks were batting or in the field.

A twenty five over match duly got underway by about 4.00pm, with Ross and Richardson opeing for the Grigsons. Luckily, Teddy turned up after only a couple of overs (and a 4½ hour drive), thus lifting the miasma of flux that beleagered the Chairman’s decision making processes. R & R moved along nicely until Paul smacked hard a ball which was very well caught by Mick Coyle at extra cover.  A brace of Cliftons were fairly hastily dispatched (a fine stumping by Will Drew off Will Lund, and an excellent ‘bowled’ by the 12 year old spinner Angus Balfour – get the contract signed!).

 

This brought in Kit Ross to join Phillip who, all the while, had been steadily piling on the runs (and spectacularly missing fielders with Angel-raping hooks and shanks) and soon had to retire with a splendid 26.  Kit, sometime later, followed suit with an admirable 28, having been aided by Neilo and Neil McIndoe, who achieved 23 and 18 respectively. Denning at No 8 scored a career-defining 9 before being caught out.  Tim Prrke and Freddie McIndoe then ran out of time without losing their wickets, with the score on 137.  It should be noted at this stage that, with score book infront of me, the Grigson XI appear to have been allowed 26 overs. To whom we allot blame shall for ever remain a mystery.

Stand out performances with the ball being Will Lund, 2 for 12, and young (12y/o) Angus, 2 for 16.

Oondles of lovely cakes were then devoured (remember no sarnies at the MMMM) and a quick turn around saw The Chairman (!!!) and Will Drew opeining the batting for the Skilbecks. My skipper had issued me with strict instructions to score 30 (the maximum possible with a 25 run retirement quota) but not too long later I was apologising to him having retired at 28.  Will, however, was not to be undercooked and, having held back runs whilst on 24, smacked a fine six and retired on 30.  This opening partnership set up a really good base for the rest of the side and, despite Tarqs, Angus Balfour and Robin going fairly cheaply, Nick Cox and Teddy dug in and scored freely; Nick retiring  on 26 (two sixes) and Teddy, supported by Mick Coyle, seeing us through to vitcory with his own 24 n/o and with 7 overs in hand.

 

 

Performance in the field was championed, emphatically, by Kit Ross who was not only the only bowler to achieve a maiden (two of the them) but two two wickets and conceded only two runs.  Together with his batting performance of 28 retired, this would have ensured Man of the Match status, should such a thing have existed. Very well done that man!

A thoroughly excellent session in the Bell ensued, where there was not one moan about bar staff, and we all shared Toby’s Scotch egg, after hiding it.  Jen presented the cup to Teddy and we all toasted everything and everyone.

 

Huzzah foir The Rascals. A thoroughly lovely day………….

 

 

The Chairman