Any objective report on this match should be prefaced by a quick (but I think pretty accurate) estimate of the average ages of the two teams:
Average age of Babington: 50
Average age of Beckington: 20
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So, in the unrelenting 26 degree heat, it was agreed that the younger side should have first crack and put runs on the board, the non-batsmen reclining in the shade, while the superannuated home team chased leather and and went on regular safaris to the long grass on the hottest day of the year so far.
Andrew J provided a brief but false dawn of hope with his incisive opening spell. After 3 overs, two of the visitors’ gun batsmen were back in the shed (and back in the shade), both clean bowled by Andrew. Harry was keeping things tight at the other end, but this was soon to change…
For, rather like the Hydra of Herculean myth, cut two heads off this Beckington monster and more, vicious ones will appear. The visitors had brought at least six of their regular Saturday League first XI. Charlie Rustell and Arthur Hayes didn’t take long to get into their stride, and although Joliffe kept it tight for five overs (even when he came back for 2 overs at the death his figures were hardly dented), no one else was really spared punishment as the ball disappeared to all parts, the longer grass at long-on, cow and square leg from the top end (admittedly the shorter boundary) being the destination for repeated search parties. Although there were a few tempters which eventually made it over the ropes, Mike Midgley being a little unlucky, there were no obvious chances missed. Paul Jevons failed to cling on to a couple of Howitzer shells at fairly close range from Charlie, but both, if taken, would have qualified as champagne moments (in a good way). Paul did well to avoid hospitalisation both times. The more traditional type of Babbers champagne moment (ie the tumbling, bumbling clown version) was provided by Cadbury (M), who is far too good a sportsman (and far too competitive) to drop a catch off his own bowling. However the man (and I use the term loosely) seems incapable of catching a cricket ball without crashing ignominiously to the ground. Note to Clive – any resultant damage to the playing area will be covered by the culprit, who happens to be club treasurer.
Mark’s competitive spirit also rang out loud and clear in his frequent exhortations to son Harry in the field. Well, ‘hectoring screams’ might be more appropriate than ‘exhortations’. My particular favourite came when Mark was standing at mid-off when Harry was bowling. His first spell had been pretty accurate, but when he sent a wide one down, the ineffably humane, confidence-boosting cry from father to son was, ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Well, Mark, you can pay for the therapy. Also, while Mark may have been a fine athlete in his youth, his agility and mobility have waned exponentially over the years, so his criticism of fellow players for their lack of alacrity in the field did seem a little rich… I, for one, cannot wait for the publication of the Mark Cadbury book of man-management. Or perhaps, when the Art of Captaincy has its next reprint, Mike Brearley will ask Mark to write the foreword?
The onslaught continued pretty much unabated for most of the 35 overs. Beckington ended on 218. Late in the innings a more functional and heart-warming father-son interaction saw Bill Simmonds bowling to son Sam, another parenting lesson was learnt, as Bill clean bowled his son first ball, only to let him off and allow Sam to carry on.
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Adam J and Mark M opened up for Babington against pretty mean (and, of course, youthful) bowling. Adam had started to find a bit of fluency before not quite getting hold of an off-drive, a fine catch being taken at cover. This brought in Bill, himself a Beckington first-teamer, and the inevitable banter, while not of the highest standard of repartee, was relentless but good-natured. This was Meadows’ first weekend with a bat in hand, and his rustiness was not helped by concussion from the day before, nor by his predilection for a Garry Sobers-style match preparation. The great man had the talent to overcome continual nocturnal revelry the following day on the pitch, but this sort of ‘warm-up’ is not ideal for us mere mortals, especially in such unaccustomed heat. He and Bill did manage to get a few away, and fatigue got the better of both as they eschewed running for trying to hit the spinners off their length, and both walked past balls that turned past the outside edge, for scores in the 30s. Nice for Sam to bowl at dad Bill for a while, though Bill was always on a bit of a hiding for nothing there.
Ellis, Harry and Mark C managed to clump a few, and Paul Smith showed nice style and timing, but the total was always going to prove too much. There was time for two sixes from Ed, one in his usual bovine arc, but the second a straight beauty into the trees. Players are often said to have purple patches in their careers; having made runs the day before, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but at least say that Ed had a purple weekend.
A one-sided but affable fixture, in perfect cricketing conditions. Especially for those just watching…
MOTM: Charlie Rustell for his 91
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Babington Man of the Match: Andrew Joliffe (7-1-24-2)
Champagne moment: Despite an early comical Cadbury catch contender, and THAT Ed Weale six, it must go to Macca Keevil, for a diving boundary catch late on.
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Thanks again to Clare J for splendid culinary contributions, and Sarah S coming in off the rails in the sausage roll stakes.
Mark Meadows