“Bunny Inspector’s Report”

Match: 08 / 165

Match Drawn

Team	Total
Oxford University Press	207 - 6
S. Dobner 2 - 23
FFTMCC	98 - 2
D. Edwards 30*, J. Hoskins 25

Bunny: also known as Rabbit. A member of the side who cannot generally bat, and is selected as a specialist bowler or wicketkeeper [or neither and generally just makes up the numbers for the team]; and who almost always bats at No. 11. It can also be used to describe a cricketer who often gets out to one bowler – and it is this type of bunny in particular that I, an experienced and qualified Bunny Inspector, find so utterly compelling.

For instance, take the example of Michael Atherton: a genuinely solid and reliable opening batsman for England, whose duels with the South African tearaway, Allan Donald, are the stuff of legend. However, Michael was [and will be] forever known as “McGrath's bunny". Time and time again, the wily and seasoned Australian campaigner, Glenn McGrath, was given the new ball on the first morning of a Test Match, and within minutes of the game commencing, there was a predictable huddle of elated teammates, watching as Atherton slowly walked back to the pavilion [back to his hutch].

Imagine my delight when an old friend contacted me recently and invited me to stay in his company in Oxfordshire. A keen advocate of cricket, he arranged for us to watch a game between two local sides at Jordan Hill in North Oxford. The scenario he informed me, was that there was likely to be a bunny “incident” during the course of the match, and rationalised – quite rightly – that I’d be interested in seeing a grass roots example [thereof].

On our way to the ground, I learned that a local Australian that went by the name of Antony Mann held stock over another local man who went by the name of Andrew Darley. Andrew, a more than useful cricketer characterised by his wide-boy enthusiasm, had as the seasons passed him by, become Antony Mann’s bunny. Nobody seemed to fully understand quite how it had happened, but as in most cases such as this, a sequence of low scores involving one particular bowler [Antony], would seem to have awoken the demons and self-doubt within the mind of the batsman [Andrew]. No matter what the batsman tries [or does], the bowler just has their number.

Andrew Darley (left) is Antony Mann’s bunny.

Once the game had gotten underway, I observed the Far from the MCC get a fruitful shoeing in the early exchanges of the contest, but noted that they had sensibly held Mr. Mann back for a few overs at the end. This was clearly a clever plan, as a clatter of late wickets brought said batsman, A. Darley, hopping to the crease [his large fluffy ears protruding from his shiny blue helmet]. Having taken guard, Andrew was quick to realise a shift in the field – five men now positioned on the boundary between long on and orthodox cow [essentially, a clear move to cause further unrest in Andrew’s mind – on the assumption he only had one shot]. I leaned forward in my chair, as Mr. Mann ambled up to the popping crease, and with a lazy arc of his left arm, let go of his stock delivery – a ball of good length swinging in on middle stump. Andrew, his mind in tatters, attempted a lamentable forward defensive before hearing the death rattle. Slowly, and deliberately, a tearful bunny retreated back to his hutch; his lump of rhubarb dragging through the wet grass behind him….

Thanks for the memories, guys.

‘The Bunny Inspector’