It’s only taken 34 days for Il Capitano Marco Meadowsi (for he speaks fluent Italian) to write the report, however due to poor communications and opposition changing dates and poor weather, this was the last game we played. I hope it was worth waiting for…
Blessed with a rare appearance of the sun for the second Sunday running, skipper Meadows had no hesitation in batting first. The feeling was that the home team should have enough strength in depth to post a challenging total against a somewhat unknown opposition.
Thanks to Clive, for producing an immaculate strip, as ever. Balmy though this day was, the previous week had been blighted by the more typical 2024 monsoons; as a result, the pitch was very much on the sluggish side.
This was very much evidenced by Adam’s innings. For someone whose batting is characterised by timing and good ball striking, to get to 30 in ones and twos with nary a boundary, shows that the ball was definitely not ‘coming on’.
By the time Phil de Glanville came in at 4, Mark M and Ben Mott had already been castled by the vagaries of the pitch. After seeing himself in, Phil was the only batsman to really come to terms with the conditions, sometimes going aerial to take the understandably slow outfield out of the equation. After he went for 53, the three Cadburys, Ellis and Dan Matthews managed a few boundaries between them, to push the score to what, at the halfway point, looked a slightly above par 188 from 35 overs.
The highlight of Babington’s innings must surely have been the leg spin bowling of Monty Lunt. With genuine dip and turn, he shows great promise, and deserved more than his one wicket. We hope to see much more of Monty, preferably playing for the home team in years to come. His batting looks excellent, too. If only he had a slightly pushier father to ‘encourage’ his future progress…
The lowlight (or possibly another highlight, depending on how high the Schadenfreude dial is set) was Chairman Ed’s golden duck, clean bowled on the final ball of the innings. This was the second scalp for Lunt senior, who managed to overcome his natural aversion to competitiveness, and put in a decent spell with the ball.
The start of the All Hallows reply depended largely on skipper James Callow. James is a very good all-round sportsman, and while he never completely broke free of the shackles, his 51 definitely kept his side well in the hunt. His retirement on reaching 50 would not have been necessary, had Harry C, normally a brilliant fielder, not dropped a simple catch. In mitigation, Harry was definitely under the weather that day, but the miss was compounded by the fact that before the delivery, Mark M had meticulously positioned him at deep square leg, about 10 yards in. Callow duly obliged. Cadbury obliged Callow. Didn’t have to move an inch…
This was during a reasonably economical spell of bowling by Weale (one over too many?) and Jack C, who picked up a wicket thanks to a successfully completed catch by Cadbury père. Mark didn’t have to move much for his catch, but somehow contrived a rather baroque acrobatic display in completing it. By the time the ball was pouched, Mark was in a state of genuflection in an easterly direction. I had always assumed his faith to be of the Quakerly persuasion, but perhaps Mark has converted, because it looked remarkably like he was praying to…
Mells…
Giles Lunt was now the batting mainstay. Eschewing his naturally Corinthian mindset (“win or lose, it doesn’t matter, it’s how you play the game” etc), he knuckled down and gave himself a chance to asses the conditions and the situation.
A tight spell by Mott, his nibbling seamers perfect for this pitch, meant that the rate was up to nine an over by the time the visitor’s ace in the pack, Robin Lett, came to the crease. A former Somerset player, his arrival completely swung the game, and, coupled with Giles’ increasing assurance, a challenging run chase was transformed into a relative cakewalk, the visitors winning with a few balls to spare.
Thanks to James and his side – always an enjoyable fixture, played in just the right spirit.
Babycham moment:
Ed’s golden duck
Mark’s overly dramatic catch
Harry’s catch (that wasn’t)?
Take your pick
Mark