Wield vs RNA Sports, Sunday 27th May
Weather - Hotter than Hell's pyjamas and twice as shiny!!!
Match summary – Wield come an oh so close second again!!!
Sometimes you have a day of cricket, so wonderful, so sublime, so unexpected that it makes all those other days standing in sub-zero, Patagonian conditions while some visiting tribe beats seven bells out of you worthwhile. Sunday was not quite there, but it came close, very close. For a start, the weather was perfect. It was very hot when Yorkey and I arrived, so when the visitors won the toss and decided to field we were delighted to retire to the gentle shade of the pavilion and quietly snooze. Eventually, at 2.28 some of the team appeared, including Michael without his helmet or gloves, who was opening the batting. Yorkey and he took to the crease and that was that for the next hour.
Like last time I was asked to write up the game, minds turned to other things, well mine did anyway. There were two or three song thrushes this time, all around the pavilion trying to out do each other with their politely phrased songs and the wrens along the south east boundary clattered out their challenges as well. An orange tip butterfly made a late (for the season) appearance and a kestrel briefly surveyed what was going on along the boundary at the Upper Wield End. The two blue-tit nests either side of the pavilion were in full vocal pleading as the parents came and went with a variety of food while we waited for our Tea.
Yorkey steadily increased the runs from 10 to 11, and then to 12 as the hour ticked by. Michael finally decided it was time to start scoring and ran a hearty and enthusiastic single before slumping back in his crease, the heat beginning to take its toll. Their quicks were replaced by their slows, and then more slows. Michael lost his wicket and I came in, promoted to 3 as no one else had arrived from the Wield team. Half an hour later and with a massive, career best 5 to my name I was beaten and bowled and Simon Smith took to the crease. Yorkey was galvanised. Simon swung his bat. Their quicks came back on which certainly assisted and Simon hit two sixes out of the ground. Yorkey followed at the other end with fours and before we knew it the hundred was up and Yorkey’s 50 as well. He thought we were cheering for the 3 he ran.
That was enough for Simon however and he settled back to boundaries before finally succumbing on 39. His place was taken by Greg (from the RNA team as we were short...) and he lasted the two or three balls to take us to tea.
Again, last like time, Tea has to be described. There were exquisite egg mayonnaise sandwiches, that almost caused a fight when Maxine tried to lift the entire plate. There were the most extraordinary scones with strawberry jam and fresh strawberries. The sausages were very good I heard, I did not actually get to eat any as Robin and Yorkey snaffled the lot and the oat and raisin flapjacks were delicious as well.
And so into the field. Fortunately Robin proved to us all that he had some friends as two of them joined us and we were underway. Even with the help of Greg and Robin’s two we were still a man short, but no matter, with 153 -3 to chase and the shadows lengthening we felt we were in with a chance. We had all forgotten about Max behind the wicket though, as had Max to be fair. Like me he was clearly more interested in the local fauna and flora, except not like me he had to stop every other ball. The byes flowed. However, that said, we all saw what happened next, twice. Max executed a run out and then a stumping and their wickets were falling. But we seriously underestimated their man-mountain of a wicket keeper. Not only could he strike the ball, rather hard and long, he could also run, which he did, frequently and the scoreboard started to turn over.
Small spiders wafted across the ground on the very light breeze, their gossamer chutes carrying them from one side to the other and a blackcap burst into song behind the pavilion, which I momentarily mistook for a garden warbler. A greater-spotted woodpecker looped its way from the wood to the cherry tree in the south west corner and a yellowhammer made its call for a little bread and no cheese.
Yorkey rang the changes in the bowling and ran through David, Simon, Robin, himself, Liam (one of Robin’s friends) and Greg. The Man-Mountain smacked Liam derisorily to deep mid-wicket where Michael scooped him up and he departed to the pavilion. I went forward, I went back, it didn’t matter really, the ball went through me and either Tom (Robin’s other friend) or Simon cheerily ran and collected the ball before it reached the boundary. In a rare moment of enthusiastic over-reaction Dave hurled the ball at the stumps for a run-out. It missed, bounced and hit Greg squarely where he could have been wearing a box, which he wasn’t. Hoots of laughter from the pavilion and Greg turned and staggered to the deep for a bit of a lie down.
The 20 over marker came and went and another wicket fell and the temperature dropped to 25 degrees. The rate slowed as we began to feel the chill and at a quarter to eight they had reached 143 with three overs to go. “We can do this,” encouraged Yorkey as the first six whistled over my head. A four followed. “Come on, we’ve got them on the run,” he said as the final six again whistled over the boundary and Simon and I slowly gathered the boundary markers.
Despite the result on paper, we did get four of them out, we were one man down and as Yorkey pointed out over and over again we did have the weakest batting line-up he had ever seen. The opposition were charming, the game was played in excellent spirit and we had a great afternoon of cricket and birdwatching.
Rupert Cazalet
(Head of Ornithology, Bradley Institute of Nonsense)
