It was a fine, fine evening; the sort of evening when not playing
cricket would be an affront to the elements. The river Teign was at
half-tide, while behind it the sun burned through the mists that
partially obscured Haytor. Sloping down to the river lay a cricket
pitch, the home of the Shaldon Optimists. At last, it was time for
the Cavaliers' first match

As the first members of our team arrived, we were greeted by a small
boy with impeccable technique clobbering some much older boys back
down the hill. We hoped he wouldn't be playing against us. He was.
We watched him nervously. If the kids were this good, we were in for
a hard time.

Glynn, the Optimists captain, and I took a stroll down to the pitch
for the toss. I called tails correctly and, after a quick inspection
of the pitch, decided to bat. We'd had a good chat before the match
and had agreed that this would be the best way to approach the game
anyway, but you can't just skip the toss.

Grandad and I padded up and marched out to bat, thus fulfilling one of
my childhood dreams that one day I'd walk out to open the batting with
him. The Optimists made the moment extra-special for us, forming a
guard of honour and applauding us onto the pitch for our first match.
There was a little more theatre to come as well, as Grandad prepared
to face the first ball. Glynn set his field right back, the bowler
jogged in and, as Grandad dropped the first ball on the ground with a
solid defensive shot, I called him through for a single. I was
halfway down the track before he responded; he sprinted through like
only a 75-year-old man can, and we were under way. Cheers from the
pavilion greeted the Cavaliers' first ever run, and it was most
appropriate that it had been scored by our President and senior
member.

The opening bowlers were the Optimists' Colts, the youth players, and
they picked up their pace while I was at the crease. It was rather
noble of them to avoid letting fly at Grandad, but they had less
sympathy for me. I got bat on the first, scampered a single, and let
Grandad enjoy most of the strike. When I did face the bowling, the
pace was upped considerably, with Chaz Woolnough in particular
whizzing the ball past me on more than one occasion. I slowly began
to get the measure of it, and used Woolnough's pace to eke out a few
runs, including a pull shot for four that I surprised myself with,
before I tried to sweep Glynn's first ball - a languorous full toss
outside leg stump - and top edged it straight up in the air for an
easy catch. I was first man out, and, checking with the scorers,
found I'd made a scratchy ten. I was delighted to have made double
figures.

A wearying Grandad was finally out, rather unluckily, as a straight
one from Moore clipped a bail just enough to wobble it off, and the
wicket brought our two best batsmen, Si Cahill and Karl Wilcock,
together. Si appeared to be in no mood to hang around, going hard at
the ball and occasionally making spectacular contact, while Karl
grinned incessantly and noodled the ball around. If we'd been playing
fifty overs, they'd have both got to 50, I'm sure, but we'd agreed
that everyone should have time for a bat, and they both graciously
retired to applause from fielders and spectators alike.

By now, I was umpiring, and some of the younger lads in the Optimists
side were convinced that we must have a ringer. I found it funny when
they asked if Chip was our Sachin Tendulkar and if Matt was our pro.
They shouldn't have worried. Chip came and went, bowled by a ball
from one of the Colts that left him, James was bowled second ball, Kev
went for a big hit and was caught for a golden duck. Everyone else
got themselves in, scored a couple of runs and then politely retired
to let someone else have a go. Our hopes of reaching three figures
had vanished. Glynn kindly allowed us a couple of extra overs so that
every one of our players could have a bat, and a combination of some
stoic defence, generous fielding and wayward bowling saw our last pair
score 16 runs in as many balls before Bryan was bowled by Will Farley.
We'd made exactly 100 all out.

Our defence started remarkably well, as Andy bowled their opener
second ball and, 12 runs later, his son James repeated the trick to
leave the Optimists 12-2. Two balls later, James hit the pads of the
dangerous-looking Will Farley, who was attempting to play
Pietersen-style switch-hits:

Umpire: That looked close. Do you want to appeal?

James: Sorry?

Umpire: I asked you if you wanted to appeal.

James: Eh?

Me (nearby at mid-on): I think you should appeal, James.

James: Err, ok. Howzat?

Umpire (raising his finger): Out!

We conceded just 20 runs off the first six overs. Did we have a
chance of defending our total?

It's often the first-change bowlers that take the brunt of the
punishment, and I was probably a little unwise in keeping fielders in
at the end of our opening bowlers' spells. Si's first over went for
11, including two lusty fours, and Tuffnell and Moore were about to
give us a masterclass in clean hitting. Ball after ball shot over the
boundary in an exhibition of how to hit the ball hard into gaps. Kev
bowled tightly but still went for nine in one over, while Chip's
opening over was clobbered for 16. We were delighted when the pair
retired graciously to warm applause, but the momentum had swung in the
Optimists' favour. I brought back James and Andy to no avail, and
even had a bowl myself, but, Si's spectacular caught and bowled
dismissal of Gallagher aside, we couldn't buy a wicket. Soon, the
Optimists needed just 21 runs from the last 36 balls to win the
match.

Then the Optimists showed that they, too, were Cavaliers in spirit.
They slowed their run-rate and played defensively when it would be
easier to cart a beleaguered attack all over the park, until they
still needed 11 from the last three overs. A tight finish looked
possible, until they laid into poor Chip once again and left
themselves needing just three from 12 balls.

Si bowled a tight penultimate over to Glynn, who took just two off it.
We needed one wicket to win, and they needed two runs. I threw the
ball to Kev and told him it was time to make a name for himself,
brought all the fielders in and went for a full slip cordon. Kev's
second ball went for a single to bring the scores level and Glynn back
on strike, and the game looked over.

The Cavaliers were unbowed, and encouraging words flew in Kev's
direction. Glynn very carefully blocked the next ball, and the next.
And the next. One ball to go. If we took a wicket, we won; if Glynn
got a run, the Optimists had it; a dot ball would mean a draw. Kev's
last ball was slow, wide and short and, as it sat up ready to be hit
to the boundary, Glynn stepped forward and very deliberately defended
it dead onto the track. It was the most sporting of finishes and,
although the scores were tied, the game itself had very clearly
won.

The teams warmly applauded one another, shook hands and headed for the
pub. I gave a little speech thanking my team for indulging my dream
to one day captain my own side and for playing with such spirit. I
also had a commemorative plaque made up for the Optimists, and gave
Glynn my grateful thanks for providing such sporting opposition and
such a warm welcome in our inaugural game. I also gave a Man of the
Match award to Karl, whose batting had been tremendous and his
wicketkeeping impeccable. Our post-match collection, boosted by the
generosity of the Optimists, raised over £70 for Cricket Without
Boundaries, our nominated charity. Everyone agreed that it had
been a wonderful evening, and everyone wanted to know when our next
match was going to be.

The Optimists were wonderful hosts, and we'll certainly be back next season.

L-R: Malcolm Bradley, Si Cahill, Rich Blagden (captain),
Alisha Ryder (mascot), James Ryder, Ryan Hopwood, Bryan Alway, Ernie
Blagden (Club President), Charles Ryder (vice-captain), Kevin Johns,
Andy Ryder, Karl Wilcock, Matt Lissenden.

Match drawn.

The Absolutely Plumb
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Skankyrich

17.07.08 Front Page

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