Treatise on the Current Predicament of the Cricketing Athletic Support

Now I wouldn't deign to boast of besporting above average volume of tackle – although it does appear that the summer months do have a pronounced effect on the elasticity of a certain pouch – but I must express my recent despair, discomfort and annoyance at the lack of containment afforded The Chairman in the last three matches, whilst employing two brand new versions of what was once, and only described as a jock strap.  It is most distracting when after every and/or any step one 'spills' out.  Even a reverie on tunnels Tom, Dick and Harry and 'The Great Escape' does little to mollify the whole-hearted inconvenience of the experience.

 

The mystery of how my dear old jock became misplaced is sadly of scant relevance, though it should be noted that I miss it dearly, and apologise for any dissent that I might have voiced to it over the age-induced rucking of the elasticated belt assembly.

 

The first attempt at replacement is described by Gray Nicolls as Cover Point Trunks.  I mean what the fuck is that all about?  Don't tell me the each wretched fielding position has its own jock.  If one has to chose a nomenclature based on fielders then at least chose something comprehensible like Stupid Fucking Leg Trunk.  The 'trunk' is, I suppose, a way of describing the style of the contraption; much akin to the stretchy 'Calvins' that I have utilised for a number of years and that have rarely been a source such errant excursion.  Not only was flagrant escapism an almost consistent worry but, in the event of deploying the box (known now in some circles as an abdo guard  *@$**ƒ√'·‡fi› !!!!!!!!!!) for batting purposes, I found (actually whilst diving to save a run out) that the only anatomical item covered was my tummy button (umbilicus).

 

So, next step; try a different sports shop.  No 'mediums' being in stock and with the complete futility of trying to impress the shop girl, I declined the 'large' jock and asked that an order might be placed.  Two weeks later (TWO WEEKS –fucking Country…) I take delivery – wrong word as I had to pick it up myself – of what appeared in the shop to be a standard jockstrap of the type that Dennis Compton and certainly David Gower might have relied upon to ensure successful procreation.  It also comes with its own abdo guard (the last time I shall call one such) which is a vicious looking thing resembling a pelota 'bat' complete with perineum (or anal depending on physiology) tickler  - no, prodder.  It is put to the test yesterday at Pear Tree Pudding.  Complete travesty of a thing.  Its 'pouch' is so narrow that the only thing it might cover would be a perfectly vertical erection – of which mine is not.  Besides nothing about cricket has that effect on me, bar possibly the showers, by which time jockstraps are superfluous. The first step I take after donning the strap (rather shadily manufactured my someone called 'Mr. David' – Goodale?) results in total 100% 'spillage'. Nothing improves and, after 15 or so overs, I forfeit my glass of cordial in order to return to the changing closet and put back on the Calvins, in which my cluster nestles quite happily for the rest of the game despite sprints and diving stops.                Thank the Lord that I didn't have to bat, although the perineum prodder might have been the only ounce joy to come from my 'Mr. Davids'.

 

During the match I brought my plight to the attention of Teddy Skils; an avid cricketer who plays at least twice a week through the season and therefore ought to have an opinion.  He dropped his strides to reveal an impressive undergarment, which a short Google, has revealed itself as an Aero Groin Protector Short.  This might well be the way to go, although it turns out that the number of options is legion (the above, Batting Shorts [built in box and thigh pad], Aero Protector Briefs, Athletic Briefs, Men Cup Protector Strap, Supporter & Cup etc., etc…..)

 

I hope to have the matter resolved by the time of The Mike Martin Memorial Match in two weeks time, in which case I propose to incinerate The Trunk and Mr. David upon the BBQ, to great fanfare!

 

The Chairman, Rascals C.C. 17/6/2013

 

 

The Donkey's dangling Impediment vs The Rascals (Match Report)

Match Report Version 1.1 (Paul Ross)

 

Nosebleeds and the Chairman's Jock Strap

When I got a call from Skills on Friday evening, informing me that the forecast for sunday was shit, I had a feeling that it was going to be a game played in bright sunshine, and for the most part my hunch proved to be correct. We gathered to play the annual Andy Goodale memorial match on Nigel's former pudding on Sunday in drizzle but soon it was fine, and bright and dry.

It was clear the skipper was in determined mood for his last appearance of the season; Billy not allowed a packet of crisps to go with his lemonade was an early sign of him not standing for any nonsense. Nigel had promised a barrel of Harveys at the ground so Billy had to sacrifice those crisps so the the old man could chuck back a couple of free pints before winning the toss and inserting the Donkeys dangling impediment into a spongy pudding. We were all happy with that but not nearly as happy as the donkey, who didn't want to withdraw at all.

The imps got off to a flying start as we all worked out where we were, what game we were playing and where we were supposed to be standing. After about ten overs we had resolved all of the above, but not before a Collier had hit a quick fifty and a bowling change was needed. Kit on full debut, and Toby proved masterful at stemming the runs and wickets started to fall. One correction. It wasn't Kit's first match but in the spirit of Teddy's batting average calculation (where he eliminates all innings below 10 to calculate the number) let's forget about last year and say this was his full debut.

The top order of the Imps was packed with former and current first X1 players, mostly called Collier, and we bowled expertly at them. Getting Alex Collier stumped early saved a lot of time looking for lost balls and then the innings hit the buffers in a major way. Fred Keeling, Toby, Kit, PK, Neilo and Teddy all bowled very well and Ant Lund, who took three for none in the last game, was not even required.(He didn't bat either!) The side fielded well, but this was all about getting Colliers out early and bowling well. Imps all out for 153 having been 100 for none. Good work

Tea (beer) was served and my only memory was putting out a general warning that Eddy was eyeing up the sandwiches and clearly calculating how many could be feasibly made to fit on one plate without appearing greedy or forward. All was polished off and battle resumed.

In the second over of our innings an incident happened which has two different scripts, so for the sake of full disclosure, here they both are. Script one, Skills is hit on his left heel by a fast yorker and is plumb lbw. Script 2 is that tobes (umpiring) should have given the other batsman out (me) the ball before and took out his guilt and angst on the other poor batsmen (skills) when it hit his foot a couple of balls later. No prizes for guessing which one Skills subscribes to but it was a brave piece of umpiring in anyones language. This never bloody happens in league cricket!!

Our score moved along sedately, losing PK and Ross in the process but when the skipper joined Jamie Mackwood with 95 to win, who would have thought they would take us all the way home. Both batted very well in the face of a declining attack and by the end, the only danger was being hit by one of the towels that were being thrown in from all quarters. Well done to both for a calm and supremely well executed run chase.

Every batsmen who was out did a valiant and difficult stint of umpiring (except Skills who hid in his car, refusing to reappear to put on a white coat).

An excellent victory and a great all round team performance by all concerned. That's now 2 victories in a row so its nosebleed time as we just get higher and higher. On a roll.

We retired to a pub called the Bull for a presentation of the Trophy and a bloody long wait for a drink. I think pub is somewhat of a misnoma for the Bull. "Shithole run by a total wanker" is nearer the mark and my vote would be to go anywhere else in the Weald of Kent and Sussex rather than put a couple of hundred quid into such an undeserving pocket. It is so bad, we had to stay until gone midnight.

The chairman promised anyone that would listen that a long rant on the modern state of jockstraps is on the way, so we all look forward to that keenly. Perhaps it could be delivered verbally at the Mike Martin game, when we all meet again in a couple of weeks time.

A tres bientot mes amis

 

Match Report Version 1.2 (The Chair)

 

Threatening clouds and steady spitting rain abated in time for us to get underway by 3.00pm, after enjoying Nigel Bowie’s liquid hospitality at his new and impressive pavilion at Pear Tree Hill.  The commodious nature of the modern young gentleman’s cricket bag did prove ergonomically challenging in the small changing room and many Rascals found themselves ogling with envy the tracts of space provided by the largest unisex bog in East Sussex.

Although not as stuffed with youth as Collier United, our team boasted the delightful inclusion of Kit Ross (with much expectation on his shoulders after his performance against us two games back), Jamie Mackwood (once more with the gloves), Fred Keeling and his old chum Will Dunn (playing for the first since the operation on his finger last year – Rascals induced , of course). Had the game been at home I might have insisted on the Rubber Bat Handle Applicator Shower Inititaion Ceremony for this lot.

Winning the toss for the third match in a row the Skip reverted to the procedure of yore and we took to the field.  Pear Tree Hill has traditionally been a tough wicket to bat on (and bowl on for that matter…) and this was no exception, with the ball holding up and not coming on.  However Will Collier and Landsdowne made very fine opening progress and reached the ton.  Much as with the last match, it seemd like matters were about to run away with themsleves.  However, yet again, a good strong turnout in the field started to reap rewards.  Fred bowled well and both he, an on-the-money ‘That’s plum…’ Toby Clifton and  Kit Ross started to pick up wickets.  Catches were once again the order of the day, six being taken by Rascals.  The other wickets were accounted for by two LBWs, a run out and a marvellous stumping, engineered by an attentive Kit Ross who saw the batsman come forward out of his crease, and snappily taken by Jamie M behind the stumps – ah, youth!  Figures of the day go to Tobes with 19 for 3 off 7.  The Oppo were skittled for 153 with two overs in hand.

Susan Bowie executed a corking tea.  The beef, rocket and horseraddish sarnie being the pick of the day and something that I feel we ought to adopt (despite Teddy’s reticence at any form of greenery within ten miles of a sandwich!).  It should be noted at this juncture that both two previous home teas had lived up to the regaultion unassailable standard.

Our stalward openers of Paulo and Teddy then hauled their bread and cake laden stomachs out to face Nigel’s assorted embrios.  Things did not start well with Teddy being given LBW by umpire Clifton in the second over – not a happy bunny.  However, Rossco and his new partner PK consolidated and put on 42 before PR spooned one up to a receptive Scott Collier at mid off.  Only two overs and 3 runs later PK was also caught, leaving Jamie M at the crease on 4 runs and bringing on The Skipper; the total reading 51.  Then ensued a very fine, mature partnership and, by the time Jamie right royally blew the maturity by attempting a reverse sweep and being caught at slip for 35, the scoreboard displayed 142. Mackwood was beaten about the head by umpire PK on his march back to pavilion, with brief respite to proffer advice to oncoming bat Will Dunn.  He and Neilo made light work of the remaining 12 runs needed for victory.  Despite hitting a fine 4 to win the game The Skip remained 1 shy of his first 50 with THE NEW BAT (which plainly is not as shit as it was deemed to be last year…….).  It can’t be said that The Imps (please excuse abridged moniker) helped themselves with 25 extras (20 wides!!), but one must think, that with 5 overs to spare and plenty of batting to come, we would have triumphed without them.

The Andy Goodale Memorial Bat was handed by David Goodale to Neilo at the Bull afterwards; the presentation having been delayed by the collectively extraordinarily tedious process of trying to purchase beverages.  However, no inconvenience was up to besmirching another fine Rascals outing.  Huzzah!!!

The Donkey's dangling Impediment vs The Rascals

Another fine victory, are the glory days returned? Captain Neilo carries us to the close in his last match of the season. Perfect!

Rascals v's East India Club

Oops! In my excitement I forgot the picture

Match Report (The Chair)

A balmy day for this one, which actually managed to get going before 2.00pm, a 35 over contest agreed upon.  A different strip form the previous game was employed, and one that did not favour the bastmen nearly so much.

After what seemd like an age, and much chat, and even the waving/pointing of a finger at the oppo captain, the Skipper returned from the square to announce that he had won the toss and The Rascals were to don pads and jocks (see later treatise) and post a score (and was the urn on?).  I forget the reason for this volte face but have no doubt we will be enlightened at a later date and at some length.  The innings started in a positive manner with both Will Drew and Teddy scoring freely, but also with ample judiciousness.  Will departed with the total at 68 with Teddy following 12 runs later, whilst, infuriatingly, on 49.  Thereafter we struggled to put significant runs on the board with only PK and Neilo breaking double figures.  Things might have been different if The Chairman, lurkin’ and a prowlin’ at No 11, had been unleashed (check out scene in Mad Max II where Wez is unleashed from the shackles aboard The Lord Humgungus’ war chariot), but alas the overs were agin him. The innings closed with the score on 146.

The EIC started in equally positive mode.  Their opener, Masters, batting with aplomb, was equally at home dashing the quick single as he was finding the boundary.  With good support from the top order, it was looking like we were staring down the barrels of another defeat.  However, a series of truly fabulous catches completely turned the game around.  First of all Fred Keeling, at deep sqaure leg, one handed and at full backward stretch, caught out a very dangerous looking No.3. This was followed by magnificent diving reaction belters from Rossco and Ed G-H at midwicket and square leg respectively.  Will Drew, at deep mid on (boundary) then caught yet another hoick from the imperious Masters who was dismissed on 76.  These four catches combined with a spirited fielding display, really put the nail in the EIC’s chase and they ran out of overs on 137.  Notable bowling preformances were put in by Ant Lund (12 for 3 off 4) and Ed G-H (25 for 2 off 6), with Tarqs, Fred, PK and Teddy all proving inexpensive.

Well done lads; an adept and gutsy showing.

Rascals v's East India Club

Victory, sweet victory. The first of the season really does taste sweet!