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OLD ALLEYNIAN CRICKET CLUB
Match Report
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A XI
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Home
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19th May 2002
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Gallions (overs)
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Result:
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Lost by 9 wickets
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Batting
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Bowling
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| 1
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Boultbee, Ditch
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| 2
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Chapman, Ian
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| 3
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Wilcox, Greg
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| 4
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Van der Merwe, Sean
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| 5
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Baker, Howard
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| 6
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Wood, Eddie
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| 7
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White, Tony
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| 8
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Teo
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| 9
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Eyles, Alan
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| 10
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Owen, David
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| 11
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Owen, Judith
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DNB
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| Scorer:
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Mark Bristow
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Total
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(
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overs
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Considering that I have not wielded the willow since cricket was one of the panels of the Woods schooltime triptych, along with smoking behind the bike sheds and truancy, one may be permitted to raise a quizzical eyebrow when discovering that the eve of the Sunday match was spent at a bacchantic barbecue at a friend's house. Such quantities of meat have not been burned since our government let loose crack battalions of Royal Marine Commandoes and the 2nd Parachute Regiment on dangerous bands of sickly ungulates and cud-chewers that threatened the very fibre of society by (perhaps) having foot and mouth disease. As for the alcohol - less bourbon was consumed at the real-life Louisiana Cajun version of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers where nobody actually had to move from the house that they had always lived in. I did not, as you may have guessed, get what Bertram Wooster liked to refer to as the required eight hours.
If Sunday morning dawned bright and early it did so without me. My impersonation of a 70% proof water bed went unnoticed as morning slipped into early afternoon and Mark, my chauffeur for the day, began to rail at the lack of the required number of Eddies at the meeting place. Having been subject to the contumely that only an angry shopkeeper can subject one to, for the heinous crime of removing the ironed on crease from an unsold Daily Telegraph, I should have known better than to try the patience of the world's most obsessive scorer by turning up late. When, however, we arrived at the ground before all but two of the cricketers, I began to suspect that the sackcloth and ashes that I had donned during the drive to the ground might have been put on prematurely.
Then into the changing rooms. It was more of a head-count than a peptalk as the captain tried to explain the nature of the various cries-off. It was the team spirit that impressed me most, however, as the captain returned from the visitors' changing room to a reception usually reserved, by catcalling children, to Uncle Abenazer in the Aladdin pantomime. Apparently skip had not taken his calculator with him and had guessed, erroneously as it transpired, that 3 x 8 = 40. Armed only with this misinformation he had agreed to a 40 over limited over game with a maximum of 8 overs per bowler. A change of tactics was needed. I considered darts, but, as a newcomer, decided not to put it to the vote.
Ditchy and Ian stride out to the middle to open the innings for Old Alleynians in hot pursuit of Alan and Eddie who had gone out earlier in snug-fitting lab coats to officiate. Play! Old Alleynians are soon barrelling along as the opening partnership blossoms in defiance of the fact that neither batsman has managed to get the ball off the square. In this they were abetted by the Gallion's opening bowler whose accuracy was not his strongest suit. Consequently the wicket-keeper was hopping about like the Hartlepool monkey and byes were accruing. Then disaster as Ditchy calls for a single which can best be described as drug-induced. Apart from agreeing to such a ridiculous proposition, Ian can not be blamed for not making it. The Gallions keeper had so little distance to travel that he could have, quite comfortably, run out light. It was not the most difficult decision I have ever had to make as an umpire.
After this the Alleynians innings just meandered along. Like in our formative years, relationships were started, endured mayfly existences, and petered out quietly. Meanwhile, this writer is pacing nervously around the boundary knowing that the mills of God grind slowly, but grind exceeding small and pretty soon I am going to be out there with some maniac throwing projectiles at me. Still, I had remembered to purchase an abdominal protector so I knew, that no matter what happened to the rest of my body, my abdomen would be safe. It was but a small crumb of comfort because, whilst I had no idea what a blow to the abdomen feels like, I had, on several occasions been the victim of a smack in the testicles and, if I may be permitted to vouchsafe the intelligence, it is an experience that I had no wish to repeat.
A cheer goes up - another wicket down and, eschewing the tumbril offered for such occasions, it's my turn to slow march to the middle. Greg came to meet me and told me to "just hit it". I was grateful for the advice. On reflection, it was quite enjoyable. A few singles scored and a clip to the square leg boundary accompanied by the Gallions captain reminding the errant bowler that "You can't bowl there to Woods, sunshine." Everything was coming up Eddie. Unfortunately, reliving one's childhood does not necessarily mean that we regain our childhood attributes. A mistimed shot over backward point may have resulted in 4 all run during my teens. At a corpulent 36 I was yards short of completing the second and the adventure was over for a sturdy 8 runs and a well deserved cigarette.
The remainder of the innings was dominated by a cameo from 'Slogger' Eyles who discovered that his bat had more edges than the manufacturer had ever intended putting on it. Old Alleynians 122 for 9 (all out).
At tea it was decided that bowling Gallions out was the only hope of winning - which was about as obvious as deciding that keeping your head above water was the only way to avoid drowning. However, at the resumption, Old Alleynians set to with a will. Alan and Sean both bowled accurately without any luck at all. A run out from an excellent piece of fielding by Sean was deemed not out, and the balls hit in the air didn't go to hand. The times that the edge was found resulted once in the ball hitting the keeper's boot and going to ground and once falling just short of first slip where Eddie reenacted the orca escape scene from Free Willy with a valiant, if slightly inept dive forwards.
Other bowlers came on and, whilst nobody was getting any tap, it began to look increasingly unlikely that a wicket would be taken. The one wicket that did eventually fall came from a ball bowled by Ian that the batsman could have hit anywhere. Given that this was undoubtedly true, I thought that it was rather stupid of him to hit it down the throat of Sean at deep square leg. Isn't that always the way? The rest of the runs were duly knocked off without much difficulty and my debut was, ultimately, an unsuccesful one. Gallions 124 for 1 off 31.1 overs.
Later, in the bar, I looked at some of the sketches and daguerreotypes of various Old Alleynians and I got some idea of why Alan, who talks of the club often, is so fond of it. There were pictures of high ranking army officers who had attended the school around 1910 to 1912 and who had, undoubtedly, gone in to bat against the German Imperial Army a few short years later, where, when the whistle blew, a handful of gentlemen and hundreds of thousands of players were all running to the danger end. And yet the club still survives - and should never be allowed to fail. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of it for a short time.
Eddie
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