Rascal's v's Moose

Decision taken to shorten overs due to threat of rain (not a happy skipper), Moose win toss and reach 111 for their 20 overs. Rascals romp home to a stunning victory with overs to spare. Full report to follow shortly (Ross?). 

 

(PK's pitchside report)

 

Rascals vs Moose. 15th Sept 2013. Chairman's Match Report

 

Well who'd of Adam and Eved it.  We actually got a game in, on what was probably, for most of the Country, one of the most inclement days in months.

 

It started early, with Skipper Teddy and myself getting to grips with the foibles of my latest purchase, the Ransomes strip mower.  More levers, switches and adjustment screws haven't been seen on a contraption since the days of Heath Robinson. Still, it looks a peach and shall be tamed by next season.

 

In view of the forecast Armageddon at 4.35pm, we started early (eventually 1.30pm), meaning that for the first time in recent memory, the Chairman had to forgo his pre-contest imbibition. Now there are conflicting repercussions with this scenario. Whilst it made a bizarre and welcome change not to have to disrupt the game on numerous occasions with boundary urinations, it did mean the The Chairman had to nurse his hangover all throughout the afternoon, until Guinness relief after the game. Pays yer money…….

 

The earliest conundrum of the day was proffered by the dilemma of what format of game to be played. Despite the best advice of the Met Office, Teddy was convinced that it wasn't going to rain until 7.00pm and that undertaking his nemesis, a 20/20 game, was simply out of the question. However, in the face of considerable opposition, he agreed that the shorter format was perhaps acceptable, as long as it didn't become a habit. He promptly went out and lost the toss. We were to take to the field.

 

With the first six of the game splatted off Felix Keeling in the first over, we were a feared that a young fit looking Moose (surely there's a word for that) were going gallop away and post a scorcher. However, when The Rascals are good, they are very, very good (then they go down on Alice - I digress. Not only that, but I am renown for confusing my children's literature. Was it Christopher Robin who went down on Alice at the teddy bears' picnic or Noddy. So little time, so much to know!). Any road, OMG we were so like well tight in the field. Felix hoisted his hosiery and took three wickets in his four designated overs. Debutantes Dave Ansell and Seb Phillips, and PK bowled tightly. Then Clifton Major was thrown the ball. He dismissed a brace of Hinchliffes with his first two balls and a couple of overs later just missed out on a second hat trick. Three overs, 18 runs and four wickets. Huzzah for suspension bridges all over the world. Fred Keeling completed the bowling line up, despite cracking his knee after a most impressive scamper and tumble on the boundary. We were celestial and theophoric in the field and nearly skittled them all. Moose: Nelson after 20.

 

'Quick turn around, the rain's coming'

 

Teddy, 'Of course it's not'

 

In the meantime Moose had lost one player, J. Burke, whose Father in Law was about to die! In the absence of impending new life, the best reason I have encountered for match abandonment. Our condolences......

 

Dave Ansell, who lives so close of the ground that a lusty blow could shatter his windows, opened up with Rossco. A zippy young Ogden was twice ‘no balled’ by eagle-eyed umpire Skilbeck in the opening over. However, Dave, facing the fourth ball of the innings, cut the ball to the tallest man on the pitch at point, who plucked the ball from about 15 foot in the air. 2 for I...... Oh dear. Ships, however, are made to be steadied, and was it ever thus. Rossco and PK put on a healthy 45 before Ross was bowled going for the heave-ho. Seb Phillips (oh what a pretty bat!) took his stead but lost his partner PK four runs later. In comes Felix Keeling. With the rain clouds looming, a 65 run partnership and some corking batting saw us home to a fine victory. Huzzah for The Rascals and for Keelings (even if some of them have small heads).

 

As if my magic, the heavens opened (Teddy, ' No they didn't) almost immediately after the players left the field for a monumental tea.  We heartily thank and praise Mrs Chairman and May! Tea eaten and cleared up, washing up done and pavilion tidied, we retired to The Bull to make us burly cheer.

 

Last match fellas. Well done all for a lovely season, played in great spirit, with a healthy tally of good results.

 

Man of the match : Toby Clifton for his belting three overs.

Welcome : Dave Ansell and Seb Phillips (sprog due in two weeks - huzzah!)

Pariah of the Match : Paul Keeling (normal sized head), for being caught - at 3.30pm – half-inching a flap jack.

 

What fun we have. Let's carry the enthusiasm though till next season.

 

Rascals golf day anyone?

Rascals v Northiam aka The Skilbeck Memorial Match

A typical day with the Rascals full of the usual casual, quirky vignettes. But where to start? Well the pub of course where half the Rascals side played the usual game of how late can we be without the opposition packing the teas up and heading home. So it was the usual frantic moment of being asked to bat that had us searching for an opener (bat and tin), kit, chaffing cream, foot powder, whites, lighter, cigarettes etc.

An echo reverberated round the musty changing room. Where's Ed? Paul Ross blushed like a virgin schoolgirl. Intrigue mounted as he limply reported that like a good catholic boy he had taken a vow of silence on the subject. It was decided that it was only fair if we were given three guesses. Was he re-cataloging his collection of pre war bus tickets? No. Had he (again) got waylaid in the Croydon and Orpington Gay Pride March? Er no. Then came a real left field question. Was he playing cricket for another team? Ross cracked faster than a peanut. His tortured face said it all. There was a turncoat at the very top of the organisation. Tinker Tailor Soldier Skilbeck. Ed's brazen ambition had been turned by a better wicket. For once in a Rascals changing room was silent....nay mournful.

So our gallant openers of Drew and PK took to the field on a fine breezy day to face Northiam's finest. Their young opening bowlers directional ability had clearly been re-calibrated by Bomber Command. Their early spell had everyone nervous - first slip, gully, the umpire at point. No one was safe except the batsmen who desperately lunged and swatted as best they could until rather surprisingly the little one offered a simple catch to a surprised yet delighted fielder. Enter Desoutter who expended vast quantities of energy swotting at air. However new bowlers meant better lines and improved scoring opportunities and both started to tuck in and began to look settled and assured. There were some lusty blows including one from Desoutter which NASA would have been proud of. As one fielder quipped " if my Sky dish doesn't work tonight I'm sending you the bill".

And so the two of us took the tally to 135 when, having given Northiam plenty of opportunity, Will finally overstretched and was stumped. Recognising we had wickets to spare and 20 minutes to go the batsmen came in with intention. Firstly Georgies squeeze James, whose first shot was an admirable attempt at a Dilshan. Phillip Richardson faced five balls for an explosive 9. Then came Lund and boy did he hit the ball hard and far. When he fell the the Chairman stepped in took over with a quick contribution before falling foul of the thorny issue of time. As we debated as to how rude it would be to bat on (timed game) after tea, we rightly declared on 215. It felt enough. How wrong we were.

(The Guinness Scandal involved Paul Ross and no one else. A rough precis would be as follows: people are invited to invest in a drinks fund. Money is proffered by thirsty investors. the fund manager goes and buys refreshments. Surplus funds disappear and the fund manager drinks the assets. They never learn do they! Note to all - keep your money and your Guinness under the bed.)

With Georgie Beattie having turning her hand to scoring, we took to the field with Fred and James opening. Both struggled to find line and length and within a few over Northiam had close to 50 runs on the board. But no matter we were taking wickets. First James surprised an opening bat who spooned the ball well above his head. Unclear as to where the ball was he advanced towards the other end only to see James grab the ball on the bounce and run him out.

However bats two and three stood firm and savaged any bowling an inch long or short. In fact they gave little to no chances to bowlers or fielders. In the end they made our score of 215 look embarrassingly light as they polished off the total with 8 overs to spare.

It was certainly one of those games where you don't quite know how you lost. In essence we were mugged and left dazed and disorientated. But any game that produces 430 odd runs at 6 per over cannot be bad or devoid of amusement.

We drowned our sorrows at the Rose and Crown: pleased be warned there is a new bitter called Hastings Handmaid, which I fear they left the maid in for too long.

And so as the Courts Marshall is assembled to hear the trials of Ed Philby and the Guinness One, presided over by Judge "Hang 'em High  Beattie" our thoughts turned to what Neilo would have made of it all, then again we might still have been playing at midnight! 

Notable performances :

Rascals -T. Desoutter  69, W. Drew 60
Northiam - J. Mackenzie 102 n/o, F. Thompson 57 n/o

Faithfully submitted, T. Desoutter

The Return of the Tuna Sandwich or How we whipped the Bashers.

Good morning from a sunny London. I have failed in my duty to provide a match report for the Canbashers match earlier in July. So very late and with pretty much everyone on holiday and miles away from cricket, here it is:

The art of a good tuna sandwich is the subtle mix of salad cream, mayonnaise, pepper and lemon juice as well as crisp cucumber to add some bite to the experience. However, our beloved chairman, who seems to make all the teas nowadays, loathes tuna with extreme prejudice. He can't stand the stuff and would no more make tuna sandwiches than burn the pavilion down for a massive insurance payout. In fact, that's a bloody good idea but I guess, not very sensible to discuss criminal insurance fraud on email to hundreds of cricketers.

 

The absolutely splendid teas we are treated to have no tuna sandwiches, ever. Tuna is a fish never to be seen dead on the tea tables.

 

For a reason I can't remember, Marko couldn't make the bashers match so it was down to me to prepare the ground, make tea and sweep the floor of the pavilion with a broom up my arse, all at the same time. Brilliantly, it did give me the opportunity to re-introduce tuna on to the menu, knowing that it could be served alongside other sandwiches without offending anyone.

 

And when tea came, there they were. Some brown, some white but definitely full of tuna. They were fucking delicious.

 

The match was a clear victory to us. We batted first, got 200 and bowled out the Bashers for about 170. I have no individual stats to hand, but I do recall a lovely innings of 70 odd from Jamie mackwood.

 

See you in September to continue the longest run of unbeaten games since we last did it.

 

Happy hols - Rosco

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