2s win by 7 runs

Words (plenty of them): Joe Purnell

As per usual Joe has decided to reflect upon his lot in life for around 500 words. The actual match report begins further down.

Cricket is played by less than 2% of the population according to the house of commons. It is less popular than running, climbing, badminton and boxing to name a few. That means that on average more people in the UK would rather get punched in the head repeatedly, for enjoyment, than hit a stupid hard red ball around a big field with an overpriced plank of wood. Can’t blame them.

At the moment our games are kicking off at 1pm on a Saturday and finishing around 7/8. 7 hours of standing in a field willing the stupid red ball to not come to you because you’ll probably just drop it again, or let it through your legs. Not only this but cricket is played in the best months of the year. All the fictitious BBQ’s I could be going to with my made up friends that don’t exist because aged 13 I made one of the most monumentally stupid decisions I’ve ever made in my life. Instead of doing things with kids my age, I decided to play cricket with a bunch of grown men who weren’t very good at cricket. My friends grew up and started chasing girls etc. while I was chasing the stupid red ball as I palmed a dolly away for four runs. But I kept coming back.

So as my social skills developed (or didn’t as the case may be) I found myself constantly returning to cricket. I actually begun to fit in with the grown men who, as it turned out had all made the same stupid decision, I had all those years ago. I grew up and blended in. Became one. Meanwhile my friends were still out having fun. I even started doing things with people from cricket outside of cricket.

And now somehow I cant seem to stop. I moved to the other side of the world for four years and had my first cricket season without cricket. I started to do stuff on Saturdays, boats on the harbour, real BBQ’s that people do really go to. It’s magic. It was almost a clean break. Until my housemate suggested I came down to pre season nets. I wasn’t completely hopeless, which lead to me thinking about going around again. And I did, playing 4th grade with 16 year olds who never had any hope of developing real social skills. I hated every second of it. But I kept returning. I moved back. Another chance to give up the game. But here I am writing a second team match report for a season that doesn’t really matter.
I’ve had two ducks in a row in the 2s (more on this later) and for some reason known only to me, on bank holiday Sunday, I opened my phone, opened the pitchero app and set myself as available. I can’t explain it and this is actually a call for help.

(Actual match report starts here)

Anyway, the twos had a great win by 7 runs on the weekend. I contributed nothing and hated every second of it. Cricket is a team sport, but if you’ve had a bad day with bat or ball a win does not feel like a win. If you tell yourself differently, you’re just a liar.
The cricket gods were smiling on us to begin with, gave us so many opportunities to get out of playing the game. Torrential rain all week. More than enough for Stu Allen to call off a game. Then when we congregated outside the club turned out the A3 – the gateway to Surrey, was closed. All of our games are somewhere down the A3 then left or right. Apart from when we played Putney 17 times in a week, I think every away trip in this shortened season has required its services.

We kept going and eventually Paul (the umpire, not the left arm spinner or dog) and I turned up to the ground to find Old Tiffinians(?) playing amongst themselves on Sunday's wicket. Old Tiffs is like hackney marshes for cricket. 6 games going on with overlapping boundaries. I think it was about quarter past 1. I was given the official blessing of Josh to do the toss. Owing to the lack of coin and players I managed to aggressively negotiate a situation where we batted first, using all of those aforementioned social skills. At this point Umer, Yas and Sacha had turned up. Sacha 1 me 2 and Umer in at 3. Umer absolutely delighted. Lifetime supply of samosa’s for me.

But everyone else showed up, so back to No.10 for Umer.

Sascha and Josh went out to bat. Sascha came back quickly. I went out, also came back, was there for slightly longer, but for no score. Josh came back. 13-3…

Ross and Badger set about rebuilding. Badger one of the success stories of the pre Fulham CC junior set up. Badger, at 16, this is a direct appeal to you to read the first 500 words carefully. You have a chance to get out while you’re still young.

They batted well and carefully on a sticky dog of a wicket, laying a platform for us to push from. They both fell for 12, but this brought Stu Allen and Babar to the crease. The ever modest Stu is only too happy to talk about his dismissal at Claygate the week before, bravely trying to avoid a 50 mph length ball from a 16 year old, but accidentally leaving his bat in the way of it as he jumped 15 feet into the air popping up a dolly to short leg. If you can’t get the full story, come and see me. I’ve got a video. He was out this week caught behind after hitting the cover of the ball. So loud was this edge that the adjacent game went up in appeal as well. Stu adamant that he hadn’t hit it, god know what the noise was. Stu made 46.

We finished on 177. Competitive on this wicket.

Aqib, another 16 year old opened up with Umer and his go faster salt and pepper hair do. We bowled well. Aqib bowled really well. Bowling line length and pace. If he continues to make the poor life choice of playing cricket, he’ll probably be quite good. We had them 17-4. At least this game would be done quickly.

NOPE.

Their captain and resident tape ball slogger put on 100 runs together. Roeys field spread and eventually we had Sascha out of first slip and on the boundary sweeping. Panic stations.

We plugged away and eventually got the danger man, LBW. Fuchsy’s finger straight up, the bloke hit on his back thigh while on one knee. He had a massive kick off, to be fair he had a point, there was a chance it might have been going under. I politely reminded him that when given out you must walk off. Politely, this caused his batting partner asking me to watch my language. I declined. (Those social skills in action again)

We continued to take wickets until they needed 7 to win. Number 11 at the crease. Instead of trying to get the runs the old Tiffs striker decided that it would in fact be better for the game if he ran the number 11 out without facing a ball and end it there. Cheers mate. We won. Babar, who had let everything through his legs and shelled a catch, got him with a direct hit.

Aqib wound up on figures of 5-8 off 8 overs. Economy of 1. Madness. Easy man of the match. No other real contenders at all. Not one.

Hopefully my last match report of the season.