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.
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