“2008: Captain’s Log”

2008.

The year it rained.

More so than it did in 2007.

With August a ruinous slush of muddy depression….

Packing up, and fucking off home…. OUP’s game lost to the weather.

It seemed entirely in keeping that the season’s finale against The Wayfarers on September 14^th was yet another game lost to the elements; Stratfield Brake resembling a paddy field at one end with local peasants harvesting the rice. It was supposed to be my final game as skipper, and also Antony Mann’s farewell for The MAD [before emigrating back down under]. Alas, like much of a stop start season… a team was picked and then nothing happened. A sodden ground remained unused under a blanket grey sky with persistent drizzle. That said, at least I didn’t have Ant moaning in my ear about batting number eleven on that day. But before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s first rewind….

The season had got underway on a bitterly cold day in Hanney in April. Jumpers, sweaters, fleeces and gloves were the order of the day as The MAD reduced the home side from 98-4 to an eventual 112 all out. Recovering from my stag-do, I discovered a bathtub of cider transformed my usual arsenal of beamers into good length balls (8-1-16-4). With A. Mann absent ill [yes, folks – another cold], and both myself [hangover] and J. Hotson [bad back] sidelined when it came to batting, it was unlikely heroes G. Carter (26*) and J. Hoskins (23) who sealed the victory [James’ knock would as it transpired be a portent of things to come].

Mike (left) manages to score with his eyes shut.

Another portent of things to come, were the subsequent road trips to Boars Hill and Cholsey being lost to the weather. It was with some relief that May’s travels to the Nomads and then to Wootton & Bladon actually survived. In my absence [honeymoon], Nick Hebbes would slip the Captain’s armband on for these next two games, and he soon discovered the joys of captaincy – chasing errant team members up for replies that rarely came, and re-mortgaging his house to pay for the incurred phone / mobile and internet charges….

On the field, things weren’t much better for Nick, as he registered knocks of 9 and 0 as he sought to shoulder the withering burden of skippering. Thankfully, due to his sharp cricketing acumen, he guided The MAD to victories in both games by the identical margin of 3 wickets [maybe he should have stayed on as Skipper?] Against the Nomads, some tight bowling by A. Mann (5.4-2-19-3) and J. Harris (8-1-40-3) was the feature, as the hosts would leave The MAD chasing 144 for victory. This they achieved utilising a long batting order, with T. Smith (21) and M. Bullock (20) providing enterprising late cameos. Against the Fat Boys of Bladon, an unbroken eighth wicket partnership of 77* [and club record] between D. Edwards (66*) and J. Hoskins (41*) saved the day. At one point The MAD had slumped to 28-6 in their pursuit of 144 [again], but Dan’s obdurate batting and JMO’s latter over heroics secured a most improbable win. I regret missing this match – it sounded like a true cracker.

Skipper N. Hebbes (batting) – the best regular captain The MAD never had.

Rain returned to wash out the final fixture of the month against arch rivals OUP, so it was into June before the next game of cricket was played. Unfortunately it wasn’t much of a game, as the Bodleian posted an underwhelming 46 all out – J. Hoskins (2.4-0-5-3) and M. Reeves (5-2-13-3) the main architects of destruction. Steve Dobner (24) then set about the run chase, holing out in comical fashion just before the 8 wicket win was realised – maybe averages don’t count in Essex? Averages do count in Oxford however, as Dan (19*) remained unbeaten at the other end.

And so to Milton – ha ha ha. After the two previous years of soul-searching and inglorious fuck ups, The MAD travelled to Bloxham on a bright and hot sunny day [I kid you not] – optimistic that this would be their day. It wasn’t. I naturally lost the toss, and watched helplessly as Milton battered us into submission. They amassed 214-5 after slumping to 44-4 at one point, and during an afternoon of picking balls out of hedgerows and surrounding foliage – tempers flared. Ant Mann was the only standout with figures of 8-3-15-3. Things got no better when it came to bat, folding like a deck of cards as the team took to blaming each other for the day’s misery and swearing into their beer in the pub afterwards. Matt Bullock’s day was capped with his TVR breaking down for the seventeenth time in as many months on the way home.

An excellent shot from the filmset of “Cobland”.

Things had to improve, and indeed they did – or at least they did for two of the team as we won out by 15 runs in a tight encounter against R. T. Harris. On a remote and distinctly desolate hilltop field in Holton, a rare win of the toss enabled The MAD to bat first on a deteriorating track, and we were indebted to knocks from A. Mann [46] and S. Dobner [22] in setting the electricians 115 for victory. It proved a bridge too far for the home team as the same two guys returned figures of 7-2-12-3 and 7-0-32-4 to bundle RTH out for a paltry 99. Unsurprisingly, Ant and Steve claimed joint ownership of the coveted Man of the Match award.

Our dear friends the Lemmings provided the next opposition on a blustery and at times farcical Sunday at Stratfield Brake. G. Littlechild (82) was the only Mad player to shine in setting the post graduates 136 for victory, and this they achieved for the loss of 8 wickets as N. Hebbes (7-0-24-3) and S. Dobner (7-1-29-2) impressed with the ball. A closer game than it sounds, as the result never really looked in danger until the visitor’s minor wobble towards the end [J. Hoskins producing a memorable one-handed catch at square leg]. My pitiful season with the bat continued as a retired on 2* with hamstring trouble.

Picking the bails up – it got boring against the Lemmings….

June, as it would transpire, would be the only month during the season to be unaffected by the weather. At home and on the final weekend, The MAD enjoyed a rare 5 wicket victory over their nemesis’ Milton CC. Having opted to bat first on a relatively flat track, the away team struggled to a gunshy 116 all out – as both J. Hoskins (8-4-9-3) and myself (8-0-24-4) found rhythm in combination with the ball. Predictably, D. Edwards (54*) then laid the foundations for the chase, before a pissed A. Morley (27) amazed all by flaying the Milton attack to all parts. It was quite extraordinary hitting, and you wonder if Andy would benefit from half a litre of vodka before each and every innings he compiles in the future…? So we beat Milton, at last, but the trip to Milton [Bloxham] remains our India – and until we win there, we can’t claim to be the best Sunday team in the land….

A. Small (left) – the club’s professional consumer of cricket teas.

Into July, and into some more rain. That said, the game against Wootton & Boars Hill wouldn’t have gone ahead anyway, as they couldn’t raise a team. R. T. Harris could raise a team for the midweek Twenty20, but they might as well not have bothered – it rained. And it was looking rather doubtful for the inaugural trip to Blenheim Palace to play the Dukes’ XI the following weekend – but luckily the god’s smiled and the game went ahead [in no small measure to the host’s likewise desperation for some cricket].

Blenheim felt like a coming-of-age, played out as it was on the great lawn. It was certainly a lifetime away from the council pitches we’d frequented in Oxford over the years; but like so many debuts on the grand stage – we froze under the spotlights and batted like complete pricks. In a timed game, the home side set a nominal target of 165 for victory [S. Dobner again the pick of the bowling with 6-0-27-2], but despite there being an abundance of time to reach the required target – the cream of The MAD’s batting subsided as they attempted to pepper the palace and surrounding lakes. It was with great thanks to an uncharacteristic display of patience by M. Westmoreland (38) that we limped home [with a draw], but if this was a boxing match, we would have been admitted to the nearby John Radcliffe with a broken jaw having lost badly on points….

Not Cowley Marshes….

The colourful cast of characters that represent Wootton & Bladon were the next challenge in July, and as it turned out, they represented the last team beaten by The MAD in 2008. Tight bowling from JP Collins (7-1-30-3) and A. Darley (7-1-26-2) in particular, restricted the Fat Boys to 126-6 off their 35 overs – and with The MAD given a flyer thanks to M. Westmoreland’s [71], the game appeared to be as good as over. That would, of course, be without factoring in the obligatory Mad collapse – which convened shortly after the aforementioned opener departed. In a lamentable period, six wickets fell for next to sod all, with The MAD eventually stumbling over the line as their opponents tried manfully to contain their laughter.

The final match of July saw Deputy Dob[ner] step in to become The MAD’s third skipper of the season, and he made an immediate impact in guiding the team to a 192 run bumming away at Cholsey. To be fair to Steve, the odds were stacked against him as soon as he lost the toss on what was a rare hot day. Cholsey, fresh from a midweek cup success, carried their confidence into a day in which they cracked anything on a length as far as they could hit it. In fact, they cracked a few off a length too. This unabated brutality continued over after over, hour after hour, during which time Mad fielding plumbed the depths [A. Mann’s comedy drop and sprawl under a skier the lowlight]. Facing a mere 254 for victory, The MAD had looked well set until they batted – shot out for a pathetic 61 in under an hour. Truly awful. And all this against a team of 8 – reduced to 7 at the tea interval after Mr. Chapman answered a call for home. We wish we’d gone with him….

Cholsey. Why?

August. Rain.

If August wasn’t the wettest month on record, it must have been bloody close [mind you, July last year was apocalyptic]. Every match contested was played in rain, played after rain, or cancelled or abandoned due to the rain. It was depressing in the extreme – and this purportedly the warmest month of the year….

The first match returned a solid beating off a much changed R. T. Harris outfit at Stratfield Brake. The visitors won the toss and piled up 207-8 as most of The MAD’s bowling took a tonking. The bright spot [and an extremely memorable one I might add] was M. Westmoreland’s five catches in the deep – each one of them a decent catch in its own right. Alas, the weather turned foul after the Far from the MCC began their reply, with batsmen coming and going as the pitch morphed into a swamp. It was ludicrous towards the end, with players slipping and sliding and caked in mud. The MAD finished on 120-9 – beaten, but not bowled out. Dan [22] top scored, but nobody really noticed in all that rain....

The 10 year celebration [Decadilly] of the Far from the MCC occupied the following weekend [at Jesus College]. With no less than four teams agreeing to contest a slogging event arranged by Mr. Hoskins, it was anticipated as being a tremendous success – up to the point where players changed into their whites and it pissed down. No cricket was possible whatsoever. None. It was a complete washout. Anyone who could still be bothered retreated to the nearby Marsh Harrier pub – where the club’s first book Not At This Level was launched. It proved an instant success, with some of the cricketers even paying for copies. Undeterred by the weather, a midweek Twenty20 game was arranged at Jordan Hill against old foes OUP – a precursor to the annual Tour the following weekend. It proved a bit of a task assembling two teams at short notice, but we did it. Of course we wondered why we’d all bothered, when hours later the OUP skipper [Mr. Heron] informed us the ground was now underwater….

Molly proved she was no slouch at poker on Decadilly Day.

And then it was Tour – this time to the Mumbles in the South of Wales. Time to escape the bitching weather of Oxford – or was it…? The weight of organising things had fallen into the consummate hands of Nick Hebbes, who drew a landscape featuring two games in the general locale, a day on the piss and a T20 on the journey back home [against the Nomads of Swindon]. Accommodation proved to be rudimentary but satisfactory, and the pubs along the seafront were more than friendly – but the one thing Nick could not dictate, was of course the weather. By and large, on the whole, as a summary, it was pretty fucking terrible. It is testament to both Whitland CC and Mumbles CC that any cricket was played on Tour at all – both these venues had seen a barrage of the wet stuff for weeks, with their pitches reduced to a sodden mush. With perseverance and no little determination, they were at least able to offer some cricket – which of course prevented Team Mad from spending their entire duration in Wales on the piss [or pissed on the local par-3 golf course].

On arrival in Mumbles we found some rare sun….

Whether it was the traditional first evening of getting leathered, or the rather insipid weather – the team that represented the Far from the MCC at Whitland on the Friday was strangely off-key. There seemed an undercurrent of resignation about the whole event, almost as if the game was a distraction from the pub itself. Maybe it was, the female Olympic weight-lifting was on TV after all…. Mr. Smith would become The MAD’s fourth skipper of the season – a decision prompted by Stella and no shortage of shots the evening before. Foolhardy or not, Thorn threw himself into the role with relish – only to cut a forlorn and beleaguered soul by the end of the day [and probably wondering why he’d ever volunteered]. Whitland sportingly invited the tourists to bat, to which end most of them failed – in the soft and rather spongy conditions. Apart from a patient 35 from N. Hebbes (35) and a late flourish of the bat from M. Reeves (17), the rest of the team floundered in the wet. 111 was never going to be enough to defend, and it wasn’t, although S. Parkinson (4.3-0-17-0) bowled with vim and vigour to reap his usual rewards – and A. Mann bagged a brace whilst complaining the day “was a bunch of arse”.

Thorn (batting) attempts to salvage The MAD.

After a more successful day on the Saturday [on the piss], including a vintage win for Steve Parkinson in the Pro-am par-3 golf challenge, Team Mad decamped to Mumbles CC to admire the surroundings in the pouring rain. After several pitch inspections, various downpours interspaced by steady drizzle, the day perked up enough for the teams to consider playing some sodden cricket in light intermittent rain. Dave Shorten became the fifth Mad skipper of the season – a role he embraced with childlike enthusiasm. He fitted into the Captain’s wears with aplomb, watching us beaten all around Wales to the tune of 190-3 [off 30 overs]. You can’t deny his generosity though, allowing nearly all the team’s players to share a slice of the pounding. When it came for The MAD to return the favour, the rain returned in waves – eventually causing the teams to call a halt proceedings with just a couple of overs to go. The MAD had made 122 by that time – D. Edwards (33) and yours truly (39) the main contributors. Talk in the bar afterwards centred on whether the D/L method should be used to formulate an outcome for the match. I was unconcerned by this point as I was being sick for the thirty ninth time that day.

The final leg of the tour was in Swindon, and it came as no surprise when the match was called off due to a reservoir of water on the wicket. It was probably just as well, because I don’t think any of the touring party actually had any dry clothes left. The crap weather would continue unabated, with the home game against Cholsey the following weekend duly washed out too. In retrospect it mattered little, as their skipper [Mr. Chapman] had already radioed the bad news that the Cheese Boys were unable to assemble a team over the Bank Holiday weekend. Apparently they only had 4 players. That said, they gave us a dicking with only 7.5 players just a few weeks previous, so surely….

Whitland players loving their summer.

August came to an end with a rearranged match against the OUP after a fixture cock-up with Tetsworth CC left us without opposition. The reasons for the cock-up remain shrouded in mystery, although a raging Mr. Mann did question the parenthood of the opposing fixture secretary. Maybe it was a good thing, as the corresponding fixture against Tetsworth in 2007 served up one of the biggest stuffings in The MAD’s short ten year existence. Curiously, all those involved that day did seem to enjoy the experience – giving the impression they would take to an S&M party with similar zeal….

It goes without saying that in my final game in charge, I would duly lose the toss at Jordan Hill. It proved costly with the OUP [and Chris Heron (108*) in particular], gorge themselves on the buffet provided in racking up 207-6. A notable highlight during the walloping was M. Clarke (4-1-31-1) taking only his second Mad wicket, and thus lowering his bowling average into double figures. With The MAD making a fist of the chase on 98-2, it predictably rained once more – smudging out the horizons and ruining any hopes of a grand finale. It is truly my belief that we would have won on that day. Our lengthy batting order coupled with the opposition’s shortage of the fifth bowler only reinforcing my belief. Unfortunately we will never know….

Beaten by the weather at Jordan Hill.

Into September and only two games remained. In a gesture of goodwill, it was decided that team stalwart Antony Mann should captain one of the final matches of the season before his move back down under [over the winter months]. Logic dictated that maybe he should skipper the first game in September should the weather prevent the final game [against the Wayfarers] from happening. As it transpired, that is exactly what did happen.

Ant thus became the sixth skipper of The MAD in 2008, taking a rather patchwork team to Aston Tirrold on a wet and particularly northern afternoon. Two of the guys in the party [Washington Sr and Washington Jr] hadn’t even played cricket before, harking back to The MAD’s days of yore – of which Ant was most familiar. In a timed game, The MAD limped to an eventual total of 101 on a complete pudding of a pitch. Both the Washington’s batted –with the younger using the right end of the bat to notch a single. Ant contributed also, providing stern resistance at the end in compiling 0 not out. With the pressures of skipperdom now hanging around Ant’s neck like a tombstone, his memories of a brilliant bowling display at this same venue a year previous evaporated into the grey and unforgiving skyline. Propelled by a cavalier 65* from N. Clark, Astons CC cantered home by 8 wickets. It was a dicking of sorts, but not quite a bumming – and credit to the guys who did make themselves available on that miserable afternoon.

The Wayfarers encounter on the 14^th of September was to be my swansong as skipper; my last hurrah before passing the responsibilities and the powers-that-be to the next bearer of the ring. It was to be the game where I proudly opened the batting, honoured to have carried the ring over the past 3 years, and stroked my way to a glorious hundred as I shook off the shackles of a miserable season (by my own standards), and then taken a 5-for to lead us to a comprehensive victory against James Boon’s upstarts. Instead, I ended up going for a walk with the missus on a cold and wet afternoon bemoaning the fucking weather once more… frustrated once again that all the organisation, e-mails, texts and phone calls had amounted to… nothing. Ah, well….

Flip flops in this fucking weather…?

And that was that. Season over.

Gentleman, it has been a privilege over the past three years. Whilst captaincy has had its dark days, there have been many bright ones that linger in the memory – and I only hope the players of Team Mad give the same support to the next chief in charge as they have given to me (no jokes, please).

See you next year.

‘Spam’