“Club Day”

Club Day.

Club: a stout heavy stick, usually thicker at one end, suitable for use as a weapon; a cudgel.

Cudgel: a short heavy stick; a club

Day: the period of light between dawn and nightfall; the interval from sunrise to sunset.

Club Days - they’ve never been too successful for the Jude, or the Far from the Madding Crowd CC, so by Grace we were determined to make this Club Day a No-MAD day for the Club. To ensure we got the numbers that we needed to field a couple of spirited teams, we invited our arch-rivals of the gadgetry and fruity kind to come along and join in our merriment – the OU Offices.

“Jesus! How come I get all the women on my team?”

As per usual play began at the Folly Bridge public house – home to chicken loving, drooling pikes and chavs, that had no doubt started drinking on Friday night (if they had jobs that is)…. then we left, and the Folly returned to normality.

Upon arriving at the Holy Grail of Pembroke, one took a moment to savour the bellowing green woodpeckers and the snoring of Kev in the pavilion, before traipsing in with two crates of Stella, a crate of Strongbow, a crate of Boddingtons, three bottles of wine, and half a gallon of Archers to disturb the peace.

OU Offices did not let us down of course, and indeed turned up with a following sprawl of spectators the likes of which has rarely been seen on Pembroke turf. Organised chaos then prevailed as we discussed the various options of pool systems that we could implement to give everyone a decent game. Alas, The Analyst was still supping Stella at the Folly so we could not draw upon his extensive background knowledge in the pooling system, but we finally settled on a two innings per team match consisting of 18 overs each - batting orders reversed, and some weird rule about being able to bowl as few players as you wanted as long as it wasn’t considered cheating. Two pools were then drawn (The A-Team, and The B-Team) mixing No-MAD and OU players, social members, spectators, and general bystanders. The game then commenced.

M. Bullock would gorge himself on the No-MAD bowling.

The first innings saw some spirited batting from both No-MAD and OU, the runs coming in at a steady trickle, but the wickets falling in an equally steady trickle. Banter around the pitch was bubbly, banter on the sidelines was dribbly, and Kev foamed at the mouth and paced the Pavilion balcony with the anticipation of making fire. “Do ya think I should staht it?” – not yet Kev. “Do you think I should stahhht it?” – not yet Kev. “Do you think ah should starrrht ittttt?” Goodness knows what would have happened if he came to my barbeque, I probably wouldn’t have a house left.

The first innings realised a healthy looking total of 96 runs. A highlight of which consisted of a graceful 16 ball innings from Boon, who top scored with 33 runs – nice strike rate (206.25) with no less than six fours. Strange though it may seem, both standard captains of No-MAD and OU were out for ducks – it must be the relaxation of the captaincy having a strange effect on hand-to-eye coordination. “Oh, you’ll be wanting me to do a barbeque nah then?” – oh okay, go and start the fire, Kev. “Ohhh, great, yes, right”, drool drool drool.

What a coincidence to see club antipodean A. Mann, by a barbeque….

The first innings of the B-Team now commenced, and after a rickety start it looked like the teams were slightly unbalanced. Nonetheless, V. Stone saw her first run for the No-MAD pass the fielders, and a sterling effort from Rachel (26 balls faced for 5 runs) meant they could defend an end. Competition became equal once more after I. Howarth (24) and M. Westmoreland (26 – bowled Hoskins) whacked some lusty cameos which pulled the B-Team to within 2 runs of the A-Team. 36 overs of cricket gone, and just two runs separated the groups. Wow, it could be an Ashes match!

Slight dismay then ensued amongst the non-meateaters when it was realised that we didn’t actually have anything vegetarian for the half-time interval. Despite the meat not really resembling meat, the veggies just got on with nicking all the salad and sauces and seemed happy enough. Burgers and beers consumed, play began again – although not quite as earnestly as it had begun in the first innings. But soon the passion of cricket weaved its magic, and once again friends off the field got into the habit of slating each other back on the field.

V. Stone’s enterprising innings of naught is cruelly cut short.

So back to the cricket.

No-MAD keeper, M. Bullock, was the only Pool A player to really shine in the second innings, scoring a busty 31 runs not out – and carrying his bat through from number 4. Strangely enough, skippers were troubled again, with just 10 runs scored between them, none of which could be attributed to yours truly (sigh). M. Westmoreland returned the best figures of the innings, claiming two wickets for eight runs in three overs. The A-Team finally scrabbled to a second innings total of 90, bringing their lead to 92.

A quick turnaround saw Pool A have a breakthrough start – taking the first three wickets for single figures. But then strode to the crease a confident looking Lewis, who took on the Pool A bowling attack with glee. 32 runs from 19 balls ensued, backed up with a doughty 23 not out from the Organ Grinder. Pool B were cruising to victory in the tenth over. A minor setback came at the drop of I. Howarth’s wicket for 17, quickly followed by his missus, V. Stone (0), which gave the A-Team some hope, but in strode the steely Rachel to steady the ship and the B-Team crossed the line with 6 overs to spare.

Shadows lengthen at Pembroke….

So Pool B ended the day victorious, but as a post match drink analyses would concur, cricket was the winner – cricket, and every one of us. To share a sport amongst others can be a gratifying experience, but to share it amongst friends in such a congenial social atmosphere is priceless.

‘Hoskers’