It May Be Winter Outside (But In My Heart It's Spring)

A very happy Monday to you all for what may be the last blog for a little while. I must start with an apology. Blogging requires a spark to fire the creative juices; that spark has been missing for a few weeks now. A succession of performances that spanned the full range between limp and piss poor against Cublington, Brackley and Shallow left me feeling listless and a bit meh. I would rather produce nothing than give you something half baked.

Not that those three games didn't contain some fine individual performances, far from it. We witnessed the rebirth of Bernard as a batsman with a purpose, a breathtaking 78 against Shallow nearly won us the game, another michelle for Jules and a first Didcot michelle for Tim were all fine performances and on another day would have set up victories.

This run of games dragged us back towards a rather uncomfortable place in the division. We travelled to Banbury III on Saturday needing to get some serious points to avoid dropping below Thame. The mere thought of that sends a shiver right through me.

So, simple then. Win the toss, have a bat, make 200 plus and then bowl Banbury out. I lost the toss and then we lost the plot. Banbury were 98 for 0 after about 19 overs and the ball was pinging around the park. 250 looked highly likely. Arse.

To again prove that one wicket can change everything they lost their next 6 wickets for 40 runs and we were right back in it. They limped to 198 all out in the final over. Great spells from The Caretaker and The Judge felt just like '09. They ended with 4 each with a couple of run outs. Another fine performance from Jules and easily Jordan's best of the season.

After a spot of tiffin we set about the task of chasing down. The ennui that has blighted us over the last 3 weeks struck again as only Pritch got runs in the top 5. We were deep in trouble needing 120 to win at more than 5 an over.

Cometh the hour, cometh Bernard. A quick fire 30 odd put us back on track and Banbury on the back foot. Jordan was next up, a complicated set of instructions were communicated. See ball, hit ball. As hard as you can. Best not to give him to much to think about we felt.

It worked as he continued where Bernard had left off. His first 4 scoring shots were 1,2,3,4,6. He biffed a few more lusty blows out of the ground and we now only needed 4 an over with 9 overs left. Sadly we had our last pair at the crease so no room for error.

Luckily this last pair had a combined age of nearly 80. It is a long time since I have batted with a long off, long on, deep midwicket and deep backward square leg. Clearly they hadn't seen me or Jules bat before as the chance of either of us getting caught on the boundary were slim.

Hilariously I was dropped at deep backward square with 15 balls left. It proved a costly drop as we knocked off the runs with exactly no balls left.

Is there a better way to end the season that hitting the final ball for two to win by 1 wicket?

So we head off into the deep depression of winter with a victory and comfortably above Thame again.

Shower Your Love

Good evening residents of South Oxfordshire.

I have to confess that I am less coherent than is usual for this time on a Sunday, forgive me Lord.

In an extraordinary reaction to events in Tiddington yesterday some toys were thrown out of prams in Tottenham last night. This is the influence that the Squeeze has in this part of North London. A couple of phone calls on her way back yesterday and a carpet shop and a couple of Police Astra's are toast. Do not mess with the squeeze.

Those of us old enough to remember the last period of London riots are getting excited right now. Recession, lack of opportunity, division, lack of social mobility, despair; tend to herald an upsurge in artistic endeavour, in particular, protest music.

This has to be good news. Nothing good ever came from prosperity, hardship breeds creativity.

Who here has seen a Whale? I mean really seen a Whale? I saw one once, smaller than I had hoped. Like much in life, disappointing.

Much like Canada.

We were all out for 93, can't blame anyone really, they bowled well, we got out. Funny sort of day really. Hey ho. That is sport I guess. One week you are absolutely cock a hoop, the next just cock, no hoop. At all.

The highlight was the shower. Intense touch and someone pissing on Matt's foot without him realising. So, season over. All we can do is beat everyone is front of us, especially Shallow.

A question for you. The opposition are 19 for 5 from a handful of overs. You are captain. Is it advisable to remove both slips and adopt a defensive run saving field? (for clarification Viv Richards is not at the crease). Answers on a postcard to the usual address.

Anyway back to 1981. The Specials; number 1 with Ghost Town. A biting indictment on recession torn Britain, Coventry in particular. This town, coming like a ghost town, all the shops are being closed down. It was overtaken by Green Door by Shakin Stevens. Proof that social comment will always be outsold by snake hips. By the way, Shaky is hung like a horse.

Modern Romance also had a hit in 1981 with 'Ay ay ay ay moosey' I urge you to check it out. The lead singer now works in a key cutting booth on Oxford Street with Zammo from Grange Hill. This is true. Or at least part of it is. While you are at it check out Adam and The Ants, especially Dog Eat Dog and Young Parisians. I am off for much more wine.

Toutes Alors........................

Crosstown Traffic

Have you ever had a shower with a dead rock icon?

Think really hard, as it is the sort of experience that can slip the mind in a jiffy.

I had a shower with Jimi Hendrix yesterday. I expect that half of you reading this have never heard of him. He was the Amy Winehouse of his day; that is, he was dead at 27 after a turbulent relationship with a number of controlled substances. The mists of time have clouded things a little and I like to think he had more class than poor Amy, in reality he probably didn't. Choking to death is NOT CLASSY. Ever.

He could riff like no one else (again, under 20's - look up riff on wiki if you don't know what it means.)

Anyway, I had a shower with him yesterday. And it was lovely. A near perfect shower actually. One more wicket would have made it perfect.

We hosted the league leaders, Horspath II yesterday. Unbeaten in two years, a formidable proposition, perhaps.

Having dutifully lost the toss and therefore saving me the, for once difficult decision of what to do, we were invited to have first dig.

Jules and Pritch put on 60 for the first wicket and never looked in too much trouble against a bowling attack that to a number of neutral observers was the best seen in many years. Against such tight line and length runs were scarce and at drinks we had just 62 on the board. Crucially, with the loss of only Jules for a well made 34.

Pritch is not known for enjoying scratching around, he much prefers to crack on. The discussion at drinks was short; carry on as you are, keep wickets in hand, runs will come later.

He did just that and was third out in the 48th over with the score on 164. A fine innings of 77, chiseled out of rock. Of course there were a number of dot balls, on the whole it was a model of restraint, patience and concentration. It was also exactly what we needed. The foundation of the innings and therefore the perfect platform to launch our middle order. This brought Henry 'Shock' Brisland and Connor 'Awe' Morrison to the crease.

What happened next was the cricketing equivalent of a bunker buster. Delivered from a great height, with precision, and engineered to leave no trace.

The last 5 overs added 74 runs and left Horspath reeling around wondering what the f**k had hit them. Bris had hit them. Once, very hard, in the face.

Pritch had worked so hard for 48 overs for 77, Bris took about 30 balls to hit his 67 not out, five 6's were dispatched, balls were lost, bowling figures were decimated. Fun was had, basically. 240 for 3 is a good score any week, against Horspath was that little bit sweeter.

We all enjoyed a fine spread at tea. The vanilla slices were a personal favourite. Bris ate more than is healthy, he had earned it though.

Would Horspath try to chase? We hoped so., as we have too many Shallow attempts in the past couple of years when teams don't bother.

Tight opening spells from T'Gravy and The Archbishop built pressure. A wicket apiece. Horspath, 50 for 2 in the 19th over. In the balance.

Jules entered the fray and destroyed the middle order to leave Horspath 125 for 7 from 38 overs. Only one team in it, Horspath haven't lost for two years though so would fight to the final ball. T'Gravy came back for a surgeon defying second spell, he removed our achilles heel - T'path skipper, Manger. 127 for 8, 8 overs left.

Surely another last ditch victory would be ours. Those of you paying attention will have worked out that we didn't get it. We had them nine down, but couldn't quite finish them off.

So, Horspath escaped with a draw and 4 points. We had beaten them though. And everyone knew it.

We dominated 100 overs and showed what talent, determination and fight we can bring when everything clicks in to place. It was so nearly the perfect performance and showed the value of two entirely different but equally valuable innings in setting a score and then backing that up with guile, variation and concentration in the field. My only regret? You'll have to ask me that face to face.

Never has Crosstown Traffic sounded so good whilst soaping your nuts.

Heartbreaker

Good evening Diddymen and good evening to any guests. An apology firstly for the delay - having written previously about how irritating wasps are, last night one went out of it's way to prove my point by crawling inside my shoe and promptly stinging me when I had the audacity to put it on.

One bout of anaphylactic shock later I am now left with a comedy Elephant Man style swollen foot, at least the heart palpitations and chronic low blood pressure have gone.

Anyway, enough of my woes. What happened against Cropredy? I hear you mutter.

Anticipation was high and the appetite was keen as we gathered at the FOD. A washout last week preceded seven days earlier by the thrashing of Banbury XX meant that we hadn't had much cricket for nearly 3 weeks.

Having lost the toss I was pleasantly surprised to find ourselves bowling anyway. We got off to a great start with an early wicket before Cropredy put together a very useful 2nd wicket partnership. we dropped a couple of chances and Hussain and Orchard made us pay. The Archbishop was particularly unlucky to remain wicketless in another fine opening spell.

With the score well past the hundred it was down to the spinners to put a brake on things. The Judge got one through the defences of Hussain with a smart catch from Bris off Jordan taking care of Orchard.

The pendulum swung and Cropredy never recovered the momentum they had enjoyed as Jules ripped through the middle order. A couple of smart catches from Crab Hands at slip and no other drops together with two run outs contributed to a decent fielding performance.

We ate our tea feeling confident we would chase down 205 and be home early.

The first 100 came up at nearly 6 an over with only the loss of one wicket, happy days. Matt made everything look very easy as he breezed to a fifty at less than a run a ball, well supported by Pritch, with another 30 odd, it all looked very comfortable.

Cropredy had other ideas. The introduction of leg spinning wunderkid S Hussain accounted for Matt; Doug soon followed Pritch back. Still we didn't need to worry, did we? 60 odd to win with Jules and Bris at the crease, on paper we were still in charge. It didn't feel like that from the boundary, I can tell you.

As if it were written in the stars we were 8 down, some smart bowling, one brilliant gully catch and some dumb batting putting the pressure right back on us. Still needing 20 odd from 4 overs. Didcot 2011 vintage doesn't win comfortably. Surely we wouldn't throw it away, would we?

Jordan went out to bat like an American Pilot hopped up on amphetamines. It worked, one boundary was followed by the biggest six anyone has ever seen at the FOD, out of the ground and onto the ring road. Fetch that!

In the end the gnarly old pro's saw us home with an over to spare and 9 down. Far tighter than it should have been, but 25 points none the less.

Credit is due to Cropredy who played some great cricket and never stopped going for the win. There league position doesn't reflect the way they played on Saturday and I'm sure their first win isn't far away.

We prepare for Horspath, top of the league and seemingly unbeatable.

Dazed and Confused

Good evening blog fans.

Yesterday's game at the Field of Dreams was like so many things in life, full of anticipation and then ever so slightly disappointing once consumed. I find chocolate is that way; unlike a fat cohiba which is big on anticipation and never disappoints.

Our visitors were the second tranche of Banbarians in as many weeks. This time from XX, no idea why XX, and don't care really.

I had been warned that they were weak, something their lowly league position seemed to confirm. The pre start warnings were all about the potential for a banana skin type result and that we must remain focused and not take our foot off their throat once we had them pinned down.

This tactic seemed to work rather well as we had them at 25 for 6 off not many overs. We must not let them off the hook though. We didn't. They crumbled like a very crumbly thing.

53 all out. Northern Gravy's medium paced swing bowling had been too much for them; he ended with 6 for 23 and was well supported by The Don, 2 for 18 and Two Tone Head, 2 for 4.

It was barely lunch time, so far to early for tea. Best crack on. We did. 11 overs later it was all over, the majority of the runs coming in boundaries.

Not much more to say really. They will be relegated. We now have to push on, starting at Thame next week.

We are 4th and everything is bunching up at the top. Top two is within reach. It is purely a test of how much we want it now. I know I do, what about the rest of you??

Jump Around

The air was heavy and thick with thunder bugs yesterday at the Field of Dreams. The sort of day that often ends in a storm; the sort of day that is perfect for drinking rum based cocktails out of tin mugs; the sort of day that is ideal for shooting alligator.

No rum or alligators in our part of Didcot, so a game of cricket seemed like a reasonable way to spend the afternoon instead.

It turned out to be one of those days that is made for cool, calm heads and one of those days with the sort of finish you only get every 5 years or so; or if you are Didcot, twice in a month.

Electing to have a bat after winning the toss seemed like a splendid idea, and at 90 for 1 in the 16th over all was well with the world. Matt and Pritch were moving along serenely, surely it was now a matter of when to declare. 22 overs later at 139 for 7 it looked a little bleaker. Matt had gone for a fine 72, the Banbarian umpire should have gone to specsavers. That was never LBW. Our middle order had disappeared, we were now in real trouble.

Two gnarled old pro's mixed reckless stroke play with dogged defence and 200 seemed like a possibility. We fell a little short at 192.

The Banbarian spinners had bowled a tight line and length and got just enough turn on a real bunsen of a pitch. Well played.

As we all enjoyed a splendid tea in the sunshine we were very glad of the start that the top 3 had given us. 192 should be enough I thought.

A dream start saw one of the openers depart in the first over, a superb one handed catch by Brockett, millimeters above the grass.

A stuttering recovery was snuffed out by Jules and Jordan, Both getting pant wetting amounts of turn they reduced Banbury to 50 odd for 4. One more wicket and we would be through them, we thought.

Banbury also had a gnarled old pro and he joined a young greenhorn. They fought back and the game tightened. % an over from the last 20 or so and only 4 down.

One wicket would change things, surely. We had to wait a while, but when it came it did change things, as so often happens it brought another with it, and another. By now Jones and Taylor were back on for second spells and had picked up a couple of wickets a piece.

Megson was still at the crease, now joined by proper tail enders. A Banbury win was now unlikely as the run rate had climbed to 12 an over with only two wickets left. Could Megson block and resist the temptation to nail a long hop through the covers. No, he couldn't. Caught behind. GAME ON!!!

One wicket needed and a handful of balls left. A couple popped up and fell agonisingly short and we were now into the last over.

Matt Jones was bowling from the Matt Jones End. A cannot remember what happened with the first 4 balls. I will remember the fifth until I die. Middle stump. Knocked back.

Cue wild celebrations; hugging, tender caresses of flaxen locks and possibly the odd squeeze of a buttock.

The result was never in doubt of course!!

We sang our song and passed around the special celebration shower gel. I love this game and I love this club. Next week cannot come quickly enough..............

Only Shallow

The firsts game at Shallow yesterday had a real sense of Deja Vu about it as the hosts yet again demonstrated their monumental lack of wit, enthusiasm, attacking flair and will to win. They are to cricket what Mourinho's Inter Milan were to Football, except they don't win anything. Anti Cricket.

It's a shame really because the ground and facilities are among the best there is.

Asked to have a bat we were delighted to take advantage of the pitch. We lost a couple of early wickets and then Matt followed at 65 for 3. Were we worried? Not. One. Bit.

Connor joined Bris at the crease and they took the score to 190. Bris played his best innings in a Didcot shirt and unluckily fell 6 short of his maiden ton. Shot of the day was the swept 6 to the longest boundary at the ground, there was a lovely straight drive for 4 early in the innings that was darn good as well. Bris will have to wait a week for his ton.

Connor continued his rich vain of form and ended his innings on 58 with the score north of 200. We declared on 221. More than enough I thought.

A rather splendid tea was taken inside as we watched Jade Dernbach doing his best impression of a cricketer. Needs more work Jade.

Shallow took to the field and proceeded to ensure they wouldn't lose. Only two of their players looked as if they had even played the game before. The rest batted as if they had read a book about cricket, and not really understood it. The run rate climbed to 8 an over and suddenly they woke up and realised they had better get some runs. They didn't get any runs. They got out.

65 for 1 in the 27th over gradually became 98 for 4 in the 35th. I cannot remember the detail of what happened after this as I had lost the will to live. We bowled well, particularly Keatsy and Jules who ended with 3 for 45 and 5 for 32 respectively. I think some were caught, some were bowled and there was an LBW.

Shallow ended on 162 for 8. They didn't lose so they must be very happy with themselves. Well done.

No doubt Bris, Connor, Keatsy and Jules will be getting the usual winter approach from Shallow's mister fixit to go and join them.

Down Under

When (Sir) Bob Geldof awoke from a sugar rush haze of space dust and sherbert UFO fuelled week long bender he wrote 'I Don't Like Mondays'. It went on, of course to inspire many a cry for help suicide bid amongst hormonal types across the Western world.

Long before the phrase 'Man Up' had been coined by Australian poofs the rest of us got on with our Monday's, resigned and determined to get on with life.

For the record I am not a massive fan of Monday's, but then who is?

Saturdays however are my most favourite day of the week, especially when we are playing cricket. We travelled the long and winding roads to Cublington this week. A pretty ground looking over rolling countryside, settled in the middle of a small village with a cracking pub in it.

Winning my second toss of the season I had no hesitation inviting them to have a bat. As they racked up 173 for 0 I was regretting this decision a little. As seems to be de rigeur in these parts they had an Aussie who manages to fit the Cherwell registration rules. Love to know where they found one. Anyway he bludgeoned 112 at more than a run a ball. It felt like we were being Tubbed again.

He rode his luck a little and almost killed Pritch. It was a Porsche Cayenne of an innings, ugly, fast and brutal. Well played. After his departure Cublington stuttered and appeared to have not a lot else to offer as they limped to 253 for 6 from 48 overs. A pretty impressive score, but at one stage I thought they might score 400!! Through the mayhem The Judge picked up his second successive 5fer. He was the only one who seemed to have a plan, and he bowled to it very well.

So, a sporting declaration, 254 to win from 52 overs. A few spots of rain at tea didn't alter the match and I believed we would win.

We got just the start we needed, 66 for the first wicket at 5 an over, Pritch finding some form and timing hit a solid 44, we were on our way. Our powerhouse top order failed against some accurate bowling as no one really got in. 93 for 4. My belief was wavering a bit now.

This brought Bernard to the crease to join Big Doug. I predict big things for this pairing. One more pleasing on the eye than the other, one more brutally effective. They took the game to Cublington. The chirping out in the middle disappeared and the fielders moved ever closer to the boundary. They scored 74 in 10 overs and put us right back in the match. Doug perished to what many thought was a brave LBW decision by the umpire, you don't see many given having skipped two big paces down the pitch and hit on the full. It changed the momentum of course. Shaun followed a little later with the score on 185. A more petulant departure from the crease is hard to remember, perhaps Dennis Lillee managed it.

They both played excellently, Shaun picked up 61 and top scored, they can both be proud.

The rest of the innings faded away as we continued to chase what would have been an unlikely victory. We fell short despite some effective hitting and never lost our belief that we could win. We could have blocked for the draw, but where is the fun and honour in that?

Afterwards we retired to the pub and had a marvellous time. The best bunch of lads we have played against for a long time and a cracking game of cricket

Next week we must beat Brackley. Failure to win will make next week an extremely black Monday.

Underdog

Oh what a night, late December back in '63............

I have no idea what this means, or what the Four Tops are up to these days. Who cares, we beat Cumnor this evening in the first round of the Bernard Tollett Knockout cup.

Our own Bernard had selected a youthful side, blended with the experience of a few mature, seasoned pros.

Cumnor turned up early looking exactly like the Division 1 side they are. Fit, lean, well drilled and perhaps expecting a relatively easy work out against the minnows from Division 5.

Asked to bat first they lost wickets regularly, first to Pritch, 2 for 37 opening the bowling with Northern Gravy keeping the other end tight on a pitch that actually had some bounce and life in it. Amazing what a bit of rain and Big Daddy magic can do.

Next up were Stan and Laurel whirling away. They had the cream of Cumnor bamboozled as they didn't know whether to stick or twist. Jules ended with 4 for 34 and ripped the heart out of the innings, Jordan finished with 2 for 16 and didn't get hit for one boundary. The best mid week bowling performances that either has produced for a long time, possibly ever. The ground fielding and catching was superb with special mentions to Big Doug, Griff and Baldrick. Bernard captained with a calmness that oozed confidence and made all the right calls.

They ended with 110 for 9 from 20 overs. Getable.

A short rain delay left us with a revised target of 98 to win from 19 overs. A good start was needed and we could win this.

Soon we were 9 for 3 with Viraj, Bris and Bernard back in the hutch. Oops. Cumnor were looking confident that this would all be over very soon and that their dismal batting display would soon be forgotten.

Guess again. Connor joined Matt at the crease. Neither looked troubled as they went about dismantling all 8 bowlers used by Cumnor. A mixture of powerful drives and cheeky singles from the pair wittled away at the target until we need around 4 an over. Connor finished on 34 and Matt on 53 from only 43 balls; both not out. We had done it with 2 full overs to spare.

What was most impressive was the calm focus displayed by the whole team. It is easy to say that Cumnor under estimated us and didn't play to their potential. We will never know. They had 7 first teamers playing, so i don't think they did under estimate us, and i think we didn't allow them to get in to the game. Let's take some credit here for a job well done.

I wonder who we will be playing in a fortnight? Hook Norton would be good. Some excellent pubs there.

---

Messsage From The Godfather

A hot, sultry day at The Field of Dreams yesterday rewarded those playing and watching with one of the most nail biting and exciting finishes in memory.

Tiddington are one of those sides that provide a measure of how good we are, everyone will roll over Cropredy this season, Tiddy are a sterner test.

Inviting the opposition to have a bat after winning my first toss of the season felt like a decent omen. What we needed was control at the start of the innings, something we have lacked so far this season.

What we got was even better than hoped for. Matt once again bowled a fiery opening spell with no luck at all. he should have picked up a couple of wickets but didn't. The Don was back from Afghanistan and looking and feeling fitter than ever before. He bowled his best opening spell for Didcot and picked up the wicket of Tiddy dangerman, Edmondson. He also deserved more reward than the wicket he pouched. Never the less what we had was a lack of wides, no balls and byes and that put us firmly in control.

The change of bowling brought early reward as The Caretaker suckered Maule into one big shot to many as he could stand the pressure no longer. A good catch from Angry Chris doing the rest.

Meanwhile The Judge was weaving his spell at the other end, he bowled 17 overs straight through and ended with 5 for 39. Smart catches from Pritch, The Don and two C+B together with a bowled. A cracking performance that kept the screw on Tiddy throughout. The Don returned and picked up 3 more wickets to end with 4 for 31 from 17 overs. A superb performance from both Don and Judge and Tiddy were all out for 165, crucially in the 52nd over, giving us 48 to chase the runs. Credit to everyone for a fine fielding performance, both catching and run saving. What was about to unfold proves yet again just how vital every single run is.

A fine tea was taken in the sun as the wise old sages agreed that Tiddy were 50 short of par.

Our innings started in slapstick fashion as we lost Jules from the first ball. Matt and Pritch put on 50, Pritch looking increasingly fluent whilst Matt never quite got into his groove. 54 for 1 was looking comfortable. 54 for 4 was not. We lost Matt, Pritch and Bernard in identical fashion as they attempted half hearted pull shots off Tiddy's midget medium pacer and spooned up looping catches to square leg. After the third I may have muttered something along the lines of 'for F***s sake.'

Now we were in trouble. Never mind though, because when you are in a jam, who you gonna call? They didn't answer, so we had Brockett and Angry to take us up to 92 and back in the hunt. Bris looked particularly good again and they both batted very sensibly.

We shot ourselves in the feet again as we lost 3 wickets in quick succession. reeling at 107 for 7 needing 5 an over - this would take some winning. Jordan had finally finished sulking and brought his 'A' game to the wicket. Three big sixes, including a whizzing flat six that left many gasping in awe and we were right in the hunt at 158 for 8 with 3 overs left. If Morrison tayed at the crease we would win. He got out trying to win it in style. A fine knock that was almost worthy of the SuBo award. This drought The Don to the crease where he joined Specials Head Allen. We needed 6 from the last two overs, no wickets in hand.

You have to admire The Don's sense of theatre, he played out a maiden.

So six balls, six runs. Dot. Dot. Two. Two. FOUR!!!! Cue wild celebrations from half the people there.

A great game to watch and be part of, as long as you win it. Credit to Tiddy's players, who competed right to the end in great spirit and were unlucky to lose. As I said earlier, sometimes every single run counts.

No room for any complacency at all now though. We very nearly lost a game we should have won comfortably and that is very, very frustrating.

We travel to top of the table Cublington with a few people playing for their places as those in form in lower sides make very strong cases for promotion.

* Todays song title is genius by the way*

The Coin Toss

A visit to Horspath yesterday. The weather had a menacing, dark foreboding feel about it, rain in the morning meant that covers were still on a pitch that looked like it had been heavily watered.

As the covers were wheeled away it was obvious that this was one toss you needed to win, especially as the forecast was for drying winds and sunshine later in the afternoon.

You can probably guess the rest. Having been asked to bat we were quickly reduced to 70 odd for 7 on a pitch that was near impossible to time anything on and that was offering prodigous seam movement and steepling bounce off a length. Only Matt offered any resistance and ended up being hit at least 7 times for his trouble.

This brought Tom to the crease. Tom may be new to some of you. Remember the name. Not Tom Robinson of 2-4-6-8 Motorway or Glad to Be Gay fame. (We need a nickname for our Tom).

Same name, different M.O. Whether our Tom is Glad To be Gay or not is currently unknown. What we do know is that when he is the zone he is a sight to behold. He swung wildly and effectively and in the process managed to really irritate the Horspath opening bowler. With some support from Phil The Caretaker they took us up to 136. Credit is due to a very good Horspath side for bowling very well in helpful conditions and also for backing there bowlers up with some quality fielding and catching.

Tea was a rather splendid affair, served inside where we could at last shelter from the drizzle and wind.

It was vital that the drizzle and wind continued if we were to stand a chance of defending 136.

We started brightly and Matt took two early wickets. The sun was out by now and the pitch quickly flattened out. Horspath's opening bat played very well to accumulate 72 not out as they easily scored the winning runs with the loss of three wickets.

So, a game that was heavily influenced by the toss. we will never know what may have happened had we won and fielded first so it isn't worth speculating. Instead we must focus on next weeks home game against Tiddington.

Big Yellow Taxi

I sit down this evening in a far more bucolic mood than last week. The countryside was glorious today, a stroll on the Downs as the wind blustered about and the rain showers scudded past would have been relaxing enough, however basking in the afterglow of yesterday's win has left me with a warm feeling of contentment this evening.

My first visit to Cropredy did not disappoint in any way. A lovely ground moored between the River Cherwell and rolling buttercup strewn fields is what cricket is all about, the sun shone and everything was right. If I could just win a toss for once. I lost the toss. Again.

Invited to bat by Cropredy we set off at a fair lick as the opening bowlers struggled to find line or length. We pushed past 50 at 6 an over before Pritch got a straight one that kept low. Les had a very easy decision to make.

The Judge continued on past 50 for the second time this season before falling to the sucker punch. The umpire struck back. Clearly sensing that, at 118 for 1 we were in danger of batting the home side out of the game. Jules allowed an innocuous loosener to hit his pad. It did not matter that he was playing a shot, was hit outside the line and got a good stride in. He was out on the 'H' of 'How's'...... That is how quickly the finger went up. He took it well!!!!!!!!!!!

Cropredy's 14 year old leggie was bowling beautifully and risks could not afford to be taken by either Bernard or T'Gravy. They pushed the score on and Matt passed 50 and looked in good nick with a steely determination. Bernard departed with the score on 150 odd. He found the only fielder in the deep. He refused to believe his own eyes and stood staring in disbelief as he wished he had hit it either: Straighter, Squarer or harder.

Brockett joined Matt and they accelerated perfectly to 250 odd before Bris was out for 40 odd. Matt then kicked on and went past the ton in style. A superb innings that showed Matt was back to close to his best. The punch of the air released a lot of emotions in all of us. So, declaration made at 275 for 4. Over to Cropredy to see what they could do with their 50 overs.

A special mention has to be made at this point to the fielder who redefined what 'A shocker' is. He would have done no worse had he been dressed in leg irons and boxing gloves. I suspect he will never play cricket again and is now barred from Cropredy. How we smirked.

Cropredy were never in it. An early wicket brought excitement. Hussain batted like he had a flight to catch. As he ran himself out after he had scored his 50 it transpired that he actually had a cab to drive and was not going to miss out on the start of his shift. I kid you not.

He departed, and with him went hope. Sat in the back seat.

Jordan and Jules bowled 26 overs between them, taking 6 wickets for 45 runs. It ripped the heart out of their innings. Ably supported by Matt and a fine a Bernard run out we had them 9 down with 150 needed to win. Could we take the last, vital wicket? The overs ticked by.

Robbie came back on and did his best to hit the outside edge or the stumps. In the end it took an impulsive, wild yahoo! of a shot from the aforementioned shackled boxer. Angry Chris pouched the skier. Cue celebrations..............Hip, Hip Hoo bloomin Ray.

What did we learn?

The top six fired. The opening bowling has room for improvement. And Cropredy will be relegated. I can't wait for next week.

High, wide and handsome

Good evening brothers (and sisters).

A belated blog this week; it seems that juggling cricket, work and children is not perhaps as easy as I once hoped it might be. The squeeze had a birthday as well, so blame her for the late blogging.

Sadly, there were very few highlights from Saturday's tame performance against the market square heroes from Thame.

Following the toss McStay inserted his own team on what looked like a typical Didcot track. Somehow they racked up 206 from their 53 overs. I am going to gloss over much of our bowling performance, reliving it is too painful. The Judge and The Caretaker found good rhythm and control after an opening burst from the lad Jones had whipped out the first couple of wickets, including a great catch at slip from The Caretaker, who can look forward to many more afternoons bent over between Brockett and The Judge waiting to grab the ball.

Control was elusive for the first 20 overs as a plethora of wides, no balls and byes racked up. 35 of the first 60 runs were extras, enough said. I am sure that some time at the nets will sort out problems with run ups and line. I certainly hope so.

Anyway the spin twins whirled away and wrestled control back, 28 overs, 3 for 91 between them.

Spare a thought for Brockett who had more bruised fingers than Stevie Wonder after a nail the tail on the donkey game at Roy Orbisons 70th birthday party. The pitch was by now starting to misbehave a little, some staying low and some spitting nastily. Thame's Richard Carr wore one on the thumb. He is a native of Malta, and it takes very little to make him cross. Splitting his thumb open actually seemed to calm him down.

Anyway, tea was taken - thank you to Mr and Mrs Bernard. A super spread.

Our innings never really got going, wickets fell regularly until Brocket and Angry Chris put a partnership together to take us to 127 for 5. Both looked comfortable and well in control until the lethal combination of a trigger happy umpire and the demon pitch saw for them both. Good innings from both.

We fell short by 25 runs. Everyone in the top 9 will be thinking that had they gone on with their innings we would have won. That's all it would have taken.

So, lessons learned and plenty of mistakes not to be repeated.

We must, and will, do better against Cropredy.

Oxford Comma

*Sigh* Good evening pop pickers and welcome to another year of post Saturday musings. I have searched the literary annals for inspiration this year, I look in the mirror and hope to see Ernest Hemingway staring back at me. An inspirational figure who filled his life with travel and adventure, as well as the odd drop of rum and a fat Cohiba. Sadly I see Eddie Hemmings staring back at me. (Nippers had better consult Wikipedia to understand what I mean - a free snake awaits the first person to tell me what his highest test score was).

Is it really that time already? A proper winter this year gave way to a perfect spring and just as we were thinking this can't last; it didn't.

Predictably the rain lashed down on Friday night and our crushing victory of Banbury XX will have to wait 9 weeks.

So, what to do with a spare Saturday so early in the season? I paced about. Shouted at the cats. Threw the cats out. In the rain. Even that didn't lift my black mood. The next logical step was to pick a pointless argument with the squeeze, for it must be her fault that it has rained for the first time in SIX WEEKS. Now, female intuition is a marvellous thing, the squeeze caught me off guard with a preemptive strike and suggested that I head to the Field of Dreams and watch the seconds play. That's why I love her.

Thoroughly enjoyable it was too as I witnessed an absolute mauling of Oxford IV's.

Batting first, Diddy openers Kankadandiandiandiandi and the Judge notched up 70 odd in quick time with a mixture of late cuts, dabs and drives. A splendid start. Pras was the first to fall, gloriously. Santosh hopped to the crease and picked up where Pras left off, some expansive, head in the air drives outside off stump would probably have been very impressive had a connection been made. The pull shots did connect and were stupendous. The ton was up in quick time as Bernard strode manfully to the crease. He stared looking like someone who had been to Austria to hone his skills before starting to look like a batsman and clubbing a marvellous straight six.

Meanwhile the Judge was accumulating a competent half century, never looking troubled, apart from a suicidal single that brought out the best comedy fielding moment of the season so far as Oxford screwed up monumentally - how we laughed.

In a lesson that we can all learn from he then got out when well set for what should have been a fine century. I am sure other opportunities are just around the corner.

Meanwhile AB was moving steadily toward another red inker, the perfect situation for the Accumulator, nudging and nurdling and resolutely turning down down sharp singles until ball six he provided solidity and impetus at the same time. Joined for the final 8 overs by Rob "I have a BMW, have I told you?" Keat they pushed the score up to 248 for 4. Rob delivered exactly what he has threatened to just when he needed to. He can rightfully claim the outside lane of the motorway as his own now.

Oxford got off to a solid start before Northern Gravy was rewarded for a fine spell of medium paced bowling with the first wicket.

The match seemed to be drifting until the introduction of Footpenis who found the just the right spot on the wicket, combined with his stature (he is only 4ft 2" tall) he found a couple of shooters and before he knew had 4 for not many, ripping the middle order out. Meanwhile Sam Baldrick had a cunning plan; bowling with fine control and prodigious turn he mopped up most of the lower oder and finished with a 4fer that was well deserved. Jones returned and pinned back the off stump of number 11 and it was all over. 25 points and not quite six o'clock.

Hopefully I will actually be playing next Saturday rather than cursing the weather, until then...........

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