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..............