Street Fighting Man

It is two weeks since my last post and I am delighted to say that we are 50 points better off. We travelled to Horspath 9 days ago knowing that 25 points should be ours against a side battling relegation and short of confidence.

We were greeted by a hot and sticky sort of day. The changing room at Horspath is airless and windowless and reminded me of somewhere that John McCarthy might have spent years chained to a radiator. Eleven sweaty men and kit bags only added to the steamy atmosphere, it reminded me of  It Ain't Half Hot Mum.

Having dutifully lost the toss again we were surprised to be asked to field. The pitch was without doubt the most lifeless we have seen in a long time. Northern Gravy and Tigger did their best, I think they were both pleased to have a spell and be replaced by the spin twins.

Jordan picked up the first wicket as the pressure started to tell. Lofty then took over the show as he single handedly took out their top order. He ended with 5 for 34 from 21 overs, 4 of them caught and bowled. Tigger came back for a spell and finished off the tail to end with 4 for 10.

Their were no dramas as we knocked off the 118 runs we needed, Jones and Brisland dealt with the unpredictable bounce and shabby change bowlers.

We were finished in time to watch the end of the Division 1 clash on Horspath's main pitch, and very pleasant it was too. Watching a decent standard of cricket with a pint in one hand on a balmy summers evening having already collected 25 points is close to perfection for me.

On Saturday we arrived at Kimble again knowing that unless the weather intervened we should take 25 points from a side that have struggled terribly in the second half of the season.

The forecast meant that anything was possible as some matches were certain to be affected by the thunder and lightning that thankfully rumbled past us for most of the afternoon.

How do you think I got on at the toss? Of course I lost. We would bat first then.

We got off to a comfortable start reaching 47 before Pritch charged down the wicket and missed a straight loopy pie. The shot was so pre-meditated that he had sent a postcard to the bowler 3 days before.

Tubes continued his rich vein of form on his way to another 50 as we passed the hundred only two down. The middle order mis-fired yet again and all of a sudden we were 133 for 6 in the 42nd over. This was not in the script. We clawed our way up to 178 with the help of some pretty average fielding before I caught everybody off guard with a sporting declaration after 49 overs.

I suspect Kimble felt they could win the game, at 42 for 1 they were possibly starting to think that their wretched run might be about to come to an end. 20 minutes later at 49 for 8 it was clear that it wasn't.

Proving that there is still life in the old dog Northern Gravy just blew them away, his haul of 6 for 17 included a triple wicket maiden. That must have had them scampering around back in the pavilion, frantically searching for thigh pads and boxes!

Meanwhile at the other end Tigger was waging his own private war with his inner demons (and Kimble's number 3). My responsibilities as Captain prevent me from repeating some of the exchanges, and of course I cannot condone such behaviour. What the hell, it was highly entertaining and certainly put the wind up Kimble and the wind into our sails.

Defending a comparatively low total combined with the ever present threat of a day stopping storm and Tiggers inner Demons created an intensity to our performance that I don't think many teams could have lived with. We were hunting as a pack. The fielding was awesome, special mentions to Keats' ground fielding and to two stunning catches from Tigger and especially Jordan who took one of the best slip catches I have ever seen.

We won by 105 runs. Quite simply one of the best matches in my time at Didcot. To cap it all off the rain started not long after we left the field and TLFOTW lost at home.

We must play with the same desire and intensity next week at the Field of Dreams. If we do we are promoted.