PWAGS update #2

Laboutin runs to a new line in cricket shoes. It's a must have item for 2011

PWAGS update

Aimee sends her apologies boys. She is devastated that she can't be there tomorrow supporting us to victory

Rascals v's The Donkey's Impediment

Clearly a victory to the Rascals that even 5 Colliers could not stop. Sadly the rain did. Paul Ross is officially pissed off

Rascals v Grannies

A loss, but with honour (Clifton 78 saved the day)

The Rascals vs The Grannies – 15 May 2011
by Mark Beattie


As I write, 4 July, I find myself taxed to recall the minutae of this, our first encounter of the season. What I can say is that, as groundsman, it was the first time that I had been totally unconcerned about the potential ‘puddingness’ of the May-time square. Having, at that stage, not had any rain for nine weeks, the ground was concrete hard and already turning brown.

The scorebook may relate that the weather was fine but it makes no mention of who won the toss in this limited 35 over bout. Any road, The Grannies opened the batting, with the opening pair, Finn and Newcomb, putting on a very tidy 79 before Finn Fell LBW to our own Warney, Robin Todd, - bless his flaxen locks. Without a dedicated wickie, there was a certain amount of swaping of the gloves with both PK and Eddie having a bash. However, The Grannies conitued to score at a solid rate and at the end of their tenure of the strip (and what a strip it was!) had amassed a very respectable 256 for the loss of five wickets

Things couldn’t really have got off to a worse start when it came to our chase, with Eddie caught (behind? – someone [probably the man himself] enlighten me) on a diamond duck (watch this start a heated nomanclatural debate). The quest stuttered further when brave Sir Lund, #3, was caught and bowled Yeates in the second over. The Skipper followed suit in the fourth with our score then on 16 for 3. The fantastic news was that now we only had eleven to get in order beat our worst ever total. At this stage PK took to the fray and, together with Rossco, stabilised the ship, despite some good bowling by Grannies openers Sibree (particularly inexpensive) and Yeates. After Rossco was caught behind on 33, in came ex-Vinehall Head Boy Toby Clifton who, having specified a light bat, unleashed his fury – or is that furry? At this stage tiny glimmers of hope were kindled in those who looked on but after the fall of PK for 25, and Tobes for a cracking 78, the tail, commencing with the groundsman, stubbornly refused to wag (whose idea to play the groundsman!?). I suppose that the start of the tail must be just above the arsehole – just a thought. Anyway, despite a brief cameo (or is that camel toe?) from The Flaxen One, we were all out in the 31st over for 189.

Still, with nigh on 450 runs scored in 66 overs, at least the groundsman, covered in dags (winnets or dingleberries – depending on one’s venacular) was a happy bunny.

Warming up for the season

The day draws nearer and you will all be glad to hear that team is beginning to form nicely. You will see below a picture of the nets sessions and, though the kit is rather outdated, I'm sure you will agree with me when I say that this is probably the best team ever formed ..... in the history of cricket!!

Can any of you name the line up? Answers on a postcard to:
We're going to smash them!
BBC TV Centre
London W12 8QT.

Rascals v's Walland Wanderers

The Curse of the Carnival

Before I recount the details of a thrilling afternoon on Sunday against the Walland Wanderers, I hope you will bear with me for a short cautionary tale.

The Roman Catholic Church moves in very mysterious ways and this weekend we were lucky enough to welcome the Holy Father (the Pope) to these pagan shores. He did cause chaos in London on Friday but it was my fault for only allowing 3 hours to drive from Westminster to Hawkhurst. Not important.

At the same time as Pope Benedict was beatifying Cardinal Newman on Saturday evening, the middle order of the Rascals team was attending a staunchly Protestant carnival in Mayfield, as the various bonfire societies’ parade through the village as a prelude to burning some fella called Guy Fawkes in six weeks time. It is not a comfortable occasion for a good Catholic convert like myself, but the hospitality of Angie Grigson has always made it bearable in years gone by. Remember this bit.  I will come back to it later.

We met at the pitch on a greyish and breezy Sunday as the owners of the Bull still don't understand that thirsty people like to be served within half an hour of going up to the bar. The occasion felt odd as there was no Teddy Skills plotting and scheming and shouting; surely the first game he has ever missed.  However he was on the ball enough to send us a text reminding us not to take any shit from Matthew, the oppo captain.   Last year, Teddy was horribly hoodwinked as before the toss Matthew had said how weak his team was, could he bat first etc etc. For some extraordinary reason, Teddy agreed to all his demands and inevitably we were soundly defeated. No repeat of such shenanigans would occur this year and well done Skills for reminding us.

The WW batted and we bowled and fielded very well. Our beloved skipper opened the bowling, peeled off two lovely overs, took himself off and was never seen again. Tarquin and Toby bowled beautifully, Ant and Robin T did fine and the WW scraped to 150 off their 35 overs. 

I must recount one anecdote. The best batsman for WW is Mark Russel-Vick and I know him as a parent at MHS and his son is good friends with my Kit. Last weekend he told me that he had got out in his last 4 matches by cutting to gully and I duly relayed this priceless piece of intelligence to our skipper. We chatted about it and my humble suggestion was to pack the gully area with loads of bodies. I am not sure where we went wrong but when Mark did duly chip it through the gully area at catchable height in his second over, there was no one there. Oh well. He only went on to get 60.  MI6 here we come!!

Tea was also rather bizarre as it was provided by the oppo instead of Mark and Carole. Delicious as it was, it is just not the same and not as good and I really don't know why. We are creatures of habit I guess.  And they put far too much SALAD CREAM in the TUNA sandwiches. Yuck.

So then it was our turn to bat. 150 off 35 overs.......easy peasy.  After much discussion in the dressing room it was decided to open with Will D and Tarqs. The only flaw in this cunning plan was that Tarqs, by his own admission, has completely lost the ability to either judge or run a single and this meant that it was a wee bit slow. Will D made up for the lack of mobility at the other end by playing a series of glorious lofted off drives and things progressed at a stately pace. 12 off six, 20 off ten.... That kind of pace.

Will went with 30 odd to his name. Top knock. 50 odd for one became 50 odd for 2 and then 50 odd for 3. I joined Jamie Flint and together we managed to get the score to exactly 100 with exactly 10 overs to go. 5 an over with 6 wickets in hand. In fact, perfectly set up for our Carnival Crusaders in the middle order.

It was a strong batting line up and the sight of Phil Richardson, Neil Grigson and Toby Clifton as 6, 7 and 8 would surely mean that we would make light work of the 50 runs we needed off 10 overs (that's 5 an over, Robin). However the presence of all three lads at the Mayfield Carnival the night before came back to haunt them in a big way. All three gone for nought in about 5 minutes. Never underestimate the revenge of the Catholic Church boys. The fact that beer wine and whisky were consumed at the Carnival in naval quantities is nothing  to do with it. It’s much deeper than that and we must learn never to go to a deeply anti-Catholic event whilst the reigning Pontiff is in the country ever again. Actually, that should see us all through as it tends to be only once every 30 years or so but just in case, never do it again. 

Suddenly, from a situation of total control we had experienced the Mother (holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death. Amen) of all collapses and defeat was staring us in the face. Surely we couldn't fuck this one up could we?

We now needed 40 runs from a last wicket partnership that consisted of Tom and Ant Lund, batting at 11 because of a bad toe. Tom managed to survive by using a very cunning strategy. He said that he did not want to hit the ball as that eliminates the possibility of being caught and it worked beautifully. At the other end Ant hit three huge sixes and made 29 of very few balls to bring us to the point of needing 11 off the last three overs. Tom survived the third to last by employing the cunning tactic described above and then Ant got the wrong club out looking for his fourth six and holed out at deep mid wicket. So near yet so far.

Whilst the last 6 overs of thrilling action was going on, our beloved skipper decided that he was best employed thrashing at a vicious bramble bush with a stump with his back to the play looking for one of Ants sixes. A very wise decision given the result but I don't know if he ever found the ball. Can someone PLEASE train a dog to take over from Neilo as I feel he would enjoy the day more if the onerous task of finding balls when the game is balanced on a knife edge was removed.

If ever defeat was plucked from the jaws of victory this was it. It was a remarkable effort to contrive to lose this game and I am quite convinced that the revenge of the One True Church was behind it.   Never mind. I will confess this week to a Priest and all will be well.

And as a final thought, the Chairman sent us a Latin blessing before the game which was simply incorrect.

In Nomine Patri et Filii et Spritu Sancti. Amen.

Have a cracking winter lads and here's to some heroes coming forward next summer. I love you all

Paul Ross

 

Rascals v's Walland Wanderers

Close but sadly no cigar. A heroic effort at the death got us to within a shout - Lund gets 22 in 5 shots at number 11. But just not enough.
Paul Keeling