“MAD opt for Foreign Guidance”
Match: 07 / 146
Won by 7 wkts
|
Team |
Total |
|
Sidley CC |
151 |
|
J. Hoskins 3 -
14, S. Parkinson 2 - 7 |
|
|
|
|
|
FFTMCC |
152 - 3 |
|
N. Hebbes 50, M. Westmoreland 44* |
|
|
A Changing of the Guard; a process involving a new guard
exchanging duty with the old guard. In the case of the Far from the MCC, the
first Friday of Tour would mark regular Skipper I. Howarth standing aside for
Lincolnshire’s favourite France-adoring son, Mr. S. Parkinson. European flair
and panache [or so we were led to believe], replacing true northern grit and
endeavour. In footballing parlance – it could be likened to Raymond Domenech
replacing Neil Warnock.
S. Parkinson (left) was keen to promote the “tea-drinking culture”
within The MAD. Many would regard the first official day of Tour as the day the
team embark on the drive to the tour destination. Not me, I’ve
always regarded the first official
day of Tour as the day you wake up with a hangover [the day after the drive].
And so would be the case in Eastbourne that Friday –
that dreadful realisation as you open your eyes that the room is spinning,
and the alien surroundings stink of empty bottles of beer and the repugnant
smell of flatulence. Every year, same old same old same old…. I was chastised into mobility
by my roommate, Mr. Smith, who on appearance seemed to have slept rather
better than myself – or at least he didn’t look like
an extra from a George Romero zombie flick. It wasn’t
so much that After dragging my dishevelled
corpse into the lounge area below, I was quickly reunited with tales of the
previous night by members of the team already seated for breakfast. Some
appeared quite fresh-faced, others less so, and a tall Australian I
recognised to be Ant smirked at me from behind his mound of sausages and
beans. “Enjoy the kebab last night, mate? – haha.”
Kebab? It all came flooding back – we’d hit upon this dingy little kebab shop
after swallowing a copious supply of Sambuca and Yeigermeister.
It must have seemed like a palace, but clearly it wasn’t, and after being
reminded that the “kebab meat looked like shit”, I now realised what that
awkward knotted feeling in my stomach was. Today was going to be a long day….
J. Hoskins impresses the Sidley batsman with his savoury snacks. Whilst
being a relatively large ground and home to an adjoining football pitch,
actually finding Sidley Cricket Club proved rather difficult. Matters weren’t
helped by a dense splurge of orange brick houses and tall prison-like wall
that encircled the place. Things were further hindered by asking for
directions from an octogenarian with Alzheimers,
and a pair of chavs who struggled with even the most basic concept of spoken
English…. But
find the ground we did, and once there, as is usually the case, I found
myself hauling the fucking team kit-bag all the way from the car park to the
pavilion [some several miles away]. I don’t suppose I’d mind too much, but I
never use any of this “team” kit, and the uncooked leg of Giraffe I had eaten
the previous evening was now starting to strangle my insides….
“Pouvez-vous transférer s'il vous plaît à la droite, le chéri?” One
thing I have now come to love about Tour – especially whilst being the
incumbent Skipper of The MAD – is the fact that you are not expected to
captain any games whilst on Tour. In fact, not a lot is
expected of you – save a good thirst and deep pockets at the bar. The
responsibility of marshalling the troops is awarded to someone foolish enough
to volunteer, and this Saturday idiot-in-making would be none other
than our European-commuting mincer, S. Parkinson. After
making my third, fourth and fifth pit-stops to the changing room toilets – I
strode out to join my team mates warming up under dulled grey skies. Steve
[P] was already fraternising with the enemy; strutting around with all the
airs and graces of a Field-Marshall, happily regaling stories of the night he
drank David Boon under the table whilst travelling back from Sydney. A legend
our new Skipper – in his own fucking lunchtime. I
believe he won the toss and invited the hosts to bat – not so much a
decision based on his expansive cricketing knowledge, but a decision based on
“doing the right thing”, and “staying chummy with the hosts” [groan]. I say I
believe he won the toss, as I was otherwise occupied with yet another
enforced pit-stop… maybe that Giraffe I ate was actually laced with anthrax…?
Fielding at “deep cow” (right). This
theme of me wandering on and off the field in some discomfort would be
repeated as the match progressed, much to the amusement of all concerned, and
in particular my Skipper. In firm knowledge of my plight, you would have
thought it sensible to alternate my position from deep slip to long on,
depending on which end we were bowling from – both areas of the field where
the toilets were quickly accessible. But no – I was instructed to “sod off”
to deepest cow corner and told to “stop bellyaching”. These European Managers
can be so uncompassionate. I
had also hoped to get an over or two under my belt [when the shitting
stopped] – this was Tour after all, but an opportunity was unforthcoming, and
I was forced to watch the home team cart our free-range buffet into
surrounding housing estates. The Skipper naturally gave himself a few overs
[after the early onslaught] – prancing in off his lardy-dar
run-up, shirt ruffling in the breeze, nipping out a couple of bunnies, whilst
telling anyone who would listen that he used to “tear through county–standard
opposition for fun.” [Lincolnshire apparently] In keeping, he retired from
the attack as soon as a batsman of note strode to the wicket, positioning
himself next to the bowler where he could offer his sagely advice.
A. Mann (2-12) goes through his in-swinging
repertoire. Sidley
CC provided a wonderful spread at the tea interval, but my participation was
limited due to the leg of rotting Leopard still working its way through my
anatomy. Mr. Parkinson scoffed at a cheeky beer, instead sipping from a
dainty cup of tea which was summarily balanced on a saucer he held. During
this interval he made sure his team fully understood they were “under
great guidance”, and that today they were “learning valuable lessons” [about
life and cricket in general….] Eventually
Steve asked me whether I wanted a bat. I took this as meaning it would be
“appreciated” if I stepped aside, or dropped down the order a little, so that
“the team” [his team] could score the required runs for victory. I
replied that I would be happy to accommodate his team, and that I
merely be allowed to bat a position above him. This Mr. Parkinson
conceded and duly scribbled himself in the book to bat at number 11…. The
second half of the match largely passed me by, as I divided my time between
picking my nose, drinking cider, and circling the pitch whilst chatting to
any anybody who maybe interested [not many]. I
watched Nick Hebbes finally notch a long overdue fifty and M. Westmoreland
use the right end of his bat for once [swatting a healthy unbeaten 44]. These
innings were clearly a result of Mr. Parkinson’s inspired half-time
team talk….
S. Parkinson (centre) perfected this stance
whilst living in France. The
MAD eventually cantered home to win by 7 wickets, representing a good outing
for the first match of Tour. But rather than getting carried away by The MAD’s
new foreign style of leadership, it is perhaps worth noting that the
Sidley team we played on that Friday were the soft underbelly of the regular
team’s they put out [on a Saturday]. Still, a win is a win is a win, but I
would liken the result – in footballing parlance [again] – as an away win for
Paris St. Germain against Southend. I
had already retired to the bar long before Mr. Parkinson had hosed himself
down and put his makeup on for the cameras. When he did eventually appear, he
shunned a regular pint in favour of a Tia Maria and a stool by the bar. He
then held court with the Sidley locals as tales of a new regime were trotted
out and “the end of a backward tenure”. When
it came to fines however, Steve found out the harsh reality of Captaining The
MAD, subsequently getting battered for a record total. Rubbishing the cost,
he slipped an American Express card from his dandy new wallet and tossed it
dismissively on the table.
Sidley’s fitness regime was almost as good
as The MAD’s. As
a rising sun painting vivid brush-strokes of amber and red, Steve and Ian
were last seen on the Eastbourne seafront in the early hours of Saturday
morning – walking in opposite directions on the pebbly beach… pistols at the
ready…. ‘Number Ten’
|
*
Statto Scorecards
|
Far from the MCC versus Sidley CC Played at Sidley, 17 August 2007 Far from the MCC won the toss and elected to bat Far from the MCC won by 7 wkts Far from the MCC debuts: none |
07 / 146 40 over match |
|
Team |
Sidley CC |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
# |
Batsman |
How Out |
Total |
Balls |
4s |
6s |
FOW |
|
1 |
C. Ramsden |
c Smith b Mann |
5 |
|
1 |
- |
1-11 |
|
2 |
D. Aver |
b Parkinson |
43 |
|
4 |
1 |
3-63 |
|
3 |
T. Finsell |
b Shorten |
6 |
|
1 |
- |
2-38 |
|
4 |
S. Ramsden * |
c Westmoreland b Harris |
37 |
|
4 |
1 |
6-103 |
|
5 |
A. Nicholas |
b Parkinson |
0 |
|
- |
- |
4-63 |
|
6 |
K. Kempthorn |
c and b Hoskins |
8 |
|
1 |
- |
5-103 |
|
7 |
I. Mollart |
b Harris |
5 |
|
1 |
- |
8-109 |
|
8 |
C. O’Connor |
c Hotson b Hoskins |
0 |
|
- |
- |
7-105 |
|
9 |
R. Dangerfield |
c Howarth b Hoskins |
5 |
|
- |
- |
9-128 |
|
10 |
J. Bull |
not out |
12 |
|
1 |
- |
- |
|
11 |
T. Ramsden |
c Harris b Mann |
7 |
|
- |
- |
10-151 |
|
|
Extras |
(NB13, W2, LB1, B7) |
23 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
TOTAL |
(all out, 39.4 overs) |
151 |
|
|
|
|
|
# |
Bowler |
Overs |
Maidens |
Runs |
Wkts |
|
|
1 |
Shorten |
6 |
0 |
36 |
1 |
|
|
2 |
Mann |
6.4 |
2 |
12 |
2 |
|
|
3 |
Westmoreland |
4 |
0 |
17 |
0 |
|
|
4 |
Parkinson |
3 |
1 |
7 |
2 |
|
|
5 |
Hoskins |
7 |
2 |
14 |
3 |
|
|
6 |
Harris |
6 |
1 |
28 |
2 |
|
|
7 |
Smith |
7 |
1 |
29 |
0 |
|
|
Team |
Far from
the MCC |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
# |
Batsman |
How Out |
Total |
Balls |
4s |
6s |
FOW |
|
1 |
N. J. Hebbes |
b Finsell |
50 |
(61) |
5 |
- |
2-79 |
|
2 |
J. C. W. Hotson |
b T. Ramsden |
12 |
(40) |
1 |
- |
1-43 |
|
3 |
G. Carter + |
b T. Ramsden |
27 |
(50) |
3 |
- |
3-151 |
|
4 |
M. T. Westmoreland |
not out |
44 |
(46) |
7 |
- |
- |
|
5 |
J. Harris |
not out |
0 |
(2) |
- |
- |
- |
|
6 |
D. Shorten |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
7 |
T. P. W. Smith |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
8 |
J. D. Hoskins |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
9 |
A. G. Mann |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
10 |
I. Howarth |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
11 |
S. B. Parkinson * |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Extras |
(NB2, W9, LB5, B3) |
19 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
TOTAL |
(for 3 wickets, 31.5 overs) |
152 |
|
|
|
|
|
# |
Bowler |
Overs |
Maidens |
Runs |
Wkts |
|
|
1 |
Aver |
8 |
1 |
30 |
0 |
|
|
2 |
C. Ramsden |
5 |
0 |
20 |
0 |
|
|
3 |
T. Ramsden |
7.5 |
2 |
40 |
2 |
|
|
4 |
Finsell |
7 |
0 |
28 |
1 |
|
|
5 |
O’Connor |
3 |
0 |
23 |
0 |
|
|
6 |
S. Ramsden |
1 |
0 |
6 |
0 |
|
|
MOTM: N. J. Hebbes Champagne Moment: M. T. Westmoreland’s
catch on the boundary Buffet
Award: D. Shorten’s overrated Boars
Hill soup (with crap croutons) |
Opposition:
V043 / 01 Ground: G033 / 01 Captain: C014 / 01 |