A home fixture against Horley with only eight men told by Thursday night when bottom of the table is a bleak prospect at the best of times. When stricken with acute bronchitis and the knowledge that the 1sts have seven bowlers it is better to empty a bottle of codeine into your stomach, knock back a large Johnny Walker Black Label and hope you don't wake till September. Just as Norcross was preparing this novel treatment the phone rang - twas Ramon. "Dan, it's Ramon. I know it's late in the week but I wondered if there was any chance of a game on Saturday". Norcross paused, ummed and aaarred and thought about it just long enough to give the impression that he was making a decision of any kind rather than waiting for his lungs to have the sufficient volume of air to speak, before telling Ramon he would be delighted and it was just as well he rang now 'cos it meant he could drop someone to the thirds before they were full up. He had nine. Before the night was out Richard Clark became available and Ansbro in panic called to ask if Norcross had got his message - he too could play. With suicide averted for another week at least, the bronchitis cleared up and the sun appeared. The OA's had a monster team and summer had arrived.
    Indeed Norcross arrived at 12.10. Within 20 minutes the net had been erected on the back pitch and Doud Khan was once again displaying his full repertoire of wristy flicks and airy wafts. Horley arrived encouragingly late (1.05) and showed now signs of wanting to "warm-up". Win the toss, plonk 'em in and knock off the runs with a top order that had Mik Patel at number eight, thought the skipper. Instead he lost the toss. At this point a very strange and unnerving thing happened. The Horley captain bent down and rubbed the pitch with his hand, then looked at the pavilion clock and eyed the drive way boundary. After a full ten seconds during which Norcross was too dumbfounded to speak largely because he didn't want to do anything that might make the Horley captain screw up, the bad news was delivered. "I think we'll insert you," he said. Aside from the hideous image of being inserted by a mostly middle aged male eleven, the die had been well and truly cast. His opponents may lack athleticism and skill but their Fuhrer was a sadist beyond compare.
    The OA's were not going to let such things ruin their day however. For the first time this season there were two umpires, a scorer and warm sunshine. Ryder and Thomas took to the crease and for the next 3 hours all the cares of a brutal world, all the injustices of a malicious season disappeared. Aside from gaily dressed ladies called Enid supping champagne and eating buttered scones from a tartan rug while stripy blazered men called Rupert discussed Binky Fickerton's party at Boodles, one could have been forgiven for thinking it was a hot summer's day in Hampshire in 1926. Ryder held one end up with commendable fortitude batting through most of the innings (50.1 overs) for a fabulous 55, while Thomas (24), Clarke (47) and latterly Ansbro (37) sparkled in the afternoon heat. Running between the wickets was necessarily lethargic, Ryder had been upright now for longer than any time since the great beer shortage of '83, Clarke is 45 and Ansbro has a chronic ankle injury, but the score was progressing without alarm. Khan, Kibriya and Patel were not even going to get a bat. Dingwall was so disoriented by the air of calm certainty and contentment that he had to go for a walk to get his head together. Ramon frolicked in the sunshine, treating us to his limited repertoire of football skills and reminisced about the great days two years ago when Sainsbury's produced a lettuce in the shape of a football to commemorate the world cup. "It was the best thing that happened to me at Sainsbury's". Quite. Clarke treated us to an uncanny Michael Caine impersonation, and everyone ridiculed Norcross' physique. We were getting a little behind with the run rate but a late burst from Ansbro and uncharacteristic running from Norcross saw the OA's to a good total of 186-4 in 54.5 overs. The bowling had been accurate but unthreatening, further confirming the suspicion that Horley had never intended batting first.
    After tea we took to the field hoping that their batting would be equally friendly. Sadly it did not turn out thus. Ansbro whipped out their opener (last year's 1st XI captain) with an inswinging yorker that Umpire Boultbee quite rightly adjudged to be knocking over leg stump. But the other opener and new bat looked distinctly dangerous. Dingwall was making up for earlier pleasure with a bout of grade A Yorkshire grumpiness. "Bloody left arm. Can't bloody bowl any more. I'm rubbish. Bloody awful." For the most part it was hard to disagree and from now on if things are looking good when batting first someone will have to take Dingers aside and keep him mentally strong. David Owen? Ansbro was bowling splendidly at the other end, however, and even when he came off with fatigue and injury, Ramon took over with unusual accuracy and penetration, inducing another LBW decision with his trademark slower ball. Wickets were falling at regular intervals but you sensed bowling them out was always going to be a bridge too far. The number four, a spitting image for a Victorian strongman in a travelling circus, was punishing the bad ball, even keeping victory in sight until the last ten overs, and Doud was doing his best to get injured again by waving his hands at the ball with no clear intention of catching it. Clarke was the victim of an horrendous howler at first slip and Dingers was deservedly punished when Doud dropped a sitter at square leg that split his index finger.
    In the end Horley crawled past the winning draw target and came to rest on 149-8. Two weeks ago we got a losing draw to an infinitely better side; this week we outplayed Horley in every department but losing the toss rather did for us. Another twenty runs, or a quicker spell between the 20th and 30th overs would have secured us the winning draw but it is hard to carp after such a good performance. Sadly Thomas, Kibriya, Khan and Ansbro announced their unavailability for next week with a variety of dreadful excuses that at no time mentioned the Germany game. As if! So we will struggle again at Albury this Saturday. But the light is there at the end of the tunnel.