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’
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