“Notes from a TFC Spotter”

Match: 06 / 129

Won by 9 wkts

Team	Total
Bodleian	102 - 8
S. Parkinson 2 - 14, A. Mann 2 - 17
FFTMCC	106 - 1
I. Howarth 63*, S. Dobner 30

For those amongst us who are unfamiliar with the great game of cricket, the term "TFC" may well be very alien. You would probably be quite suspicious as to its meaning, especially as its abbreviation contains the letters "F" and "C" – but I can reassure you, wholeheartedly, that it certainly does not refer to the female anatomy or any sexual coupling. No, it is quite different, very different – a simple saying, it is merely a...

"…Thanks For Coming".

Thanks for coming? Yes, thanks for coming. For coming along to the game today, utilising whatever means of transport at your disposal with the expressed intentions of scoring a hundred, or taking a bag full of wickets and realising your cricketing dreams. Only for it to gradually dawn on you as the match wears thin, that your sole contribution has been to... stand in the field, hands in pockets, and maybe, just maybe, stop a ball, and to then sit pitch-side waiting to bat – eyes becoming sleepy, as the rest of the team... do something. Yep, that is the size of your contribution to the team's efforts on that day. Not a lot. So you didn't get to bat, you didn't get to bowl, but you came along anyway, to play this venerable game and attempt to enjoy its nuances. It seems most unfair, doesn't it? But that's just the way it pans out sometimes, that’s the way it is, how the cookie crumbles, and there is absolutely fuck all you can do about it – save for a collected sigh, and a resigned smile when a team mate giggles whilst mentioning you've bagged "a TFC".

These two chaps fill most the criteria of a TFCer.

Of course there are many symptoms that mark out a potential TFCer, and I couldn’t fully list them all, but below are a few pointers to help fellow spotters identify these cricketers without being forced to ask impolite questions whilst a match is in progress:

1. Glazed appearance – much like a zombie, the mouth slack, and the eyes staring into the distance

2. Consumption of large amounts of alcohol – a TFCer does not technically need to stay “with it” as their input is virtually zero

3. Excessive fidgeting – arse, tired from lengthy spells on a chair watching the game, the person usually starts to fidget and become wrestless

4. Poor concentration – a TFCer is typically disinterested in proceedings after a while, his mind then wonders to any female spectators, or dreams about shagging or drinking

5. Shoddy attire – not expecting to bat, a TFCer can usually be found in Bermuda shorts, bear top, or just wandering the boundary in flip-flops when the weather allows (with a can of beer to hand)

But why should one be interested in TFC’s, and where does one find examples of a TFCer – I hear you ask? Well, all I can say is that, after many years experiencing the joys of cricket, the sight of a TFCer going through their motions provides a most stimulating little side-show to the event itself. And where to find them? I would suggest heading to a ground where the host team are experiencing large totals for the loss of very few wickets. You see, a TFCer is only likely to appear in a game where he doesn’t bat, and for him to avoid batting, the team would lose few wickets in setting a total or chasing a total. I know of one said team, locally based as well, that go by the name of the Far From The MCC.

Lying around doing fuck all – typical TFCer.

So how has the genial Oxford outfit, the FFTMCC been affected by this phenomenon in recent weeks? Well, I'm glad to say that my attendance at recent matches bore rich fruits indeed, and I publish my notes as follows concerning the various characters who would seem to have laid claimant to this notable achievement....

My first notes concern this Eric Clapton look-a-like, whose laid-back demeanour and late arrival to a game was in totally keeping with his eventual collection of a TFC. He did however leave his cheap lager alone for a while, and do some umpiring, although nothing happened whilst he was out in the middle, and so he returned not more than 20 minutes later to his rollup tobacco and warm beer. There he sat, eyes becoming listless and sleepy, as his team mates established a massive score for the loss of one wicket. When it later came to field, this rock star wasn't afforded a bowl, and instead stood by the square leg umpire gazing at the fluffy clouds that punctuated the blue skies above.

Leaves gently falling on a TFCer by the boundary.

I was also quite surprised by this northern gentleman with a blue hat, who allegedly plays most of his cricket on the leg side when he bats. Although I never got to verify this assertion, as he never even got to put his pads on, I was assured by a passing pikey that this man had indeed been in tremendous form with the willow lately, and that his collection of a TFC on this day was somewhat of a surprise. He was audible in the field, but nothing really came to him, nor did he really do anything. He didn't even turn his arm over, although he did gesture to the Skipper [to get some attention] by rotating his arm in a circle – alas it had little effect, as he was subsequently told to stand by the cattle on the deep mid-wicket boundary. I did see him pick his nose later in the day, and gesture to his pregnant wife by the boundary. She must have been as bored as he was. I think his team won by 5 wickets.

A TFCer can feel isolated and alone as he does fuck all.

There would be another northerner who was to accrue a TFC, although this gentleman would have the power to have prevented it from happening. Strangely, he seemed content to sit on the boundary watching his top order thrash the ball about whilst sinking lower and lower in the order. Maybe he wasn't up to the ask on this day? I was told by a team mate that he usually batted up the order, and that he was most capable, but again, I only saw him sat on his behind taking the occasional photo with his mobile phone. When it would come to field, we was very audible and animated with his field placements and bowling changes, but he never really did anything - save run to the boundary every now and again to either retrieve the ball or push the sightscreen left or right behind the bowlers arm. If we are being picky, then maybe his TFC was not quite a “pure” TFC, as he was seen urinating on the field and thoroughly enjoying himself*.

The happiest of men I have had the fortune to meet whilst securing a TFC, would have to be the gentleman from Cholsey the other week. He'd stood in the field, at slip I would think, doing very little running (a joke amongst his team mates), and occasionally enjoying a quip with his keeper friend. He never bowled, as I believe he was scheduled to bat later in the day. However this never came to pass, as due to the poor standard of the opposition, his skipper took it upon himself to improve his batting average whilst our fellow sat pitch side with his pads on for the duration. Not once did his face blacken, and it was a joy to meet someone enjoying such an unfulfilling day.

Thoughtful, pensive, distracted, and bored are TFC characteristics.

Contentment with a TFC - now that’s an odd combination, and something of a real rarity. So you can imagine my excitement when I happened upon this chap sporting industrial strength lager, who seemed to fit that very billing. A polite fellow, sizeable of the gut, he drank a couple of gallons whilst watching his team mates plunder the opposition from his vantage point under a large oak. When it came to field, he would hide in the gully, avoiding the ball where necessary, and trying his hardest to focus on the ball whilst the alcohol coursed through his body. But his was not to worry, as the FFTMCC secured victory on that day, and a win for a team is a win for all.

So, there you go, a brief description of the TFC and some examples thereof. I hope my diary has filled minutes that otherwise were empty for the reader, and that your understanding of this phenomenon has benefitted as such. Now I really must go, as I have an opera to attend in central Oxford this evening, although I'd imagine the tenor to have fallen ill, and so my attendance will have been in vain.

"Thanks for coming" as they say.

* - a TFCer generally never fully enjoys his day’s cricket as he hasn’t actually contributed anything. Feelings of worthlessness and alienation can ensue, quickly followed by the placement of one’s head in an oven with the gas turned on.

‘TFC Spotter’