Cuxham always field a strong side at home, mainly consisting of huntin' shootin' & fishin' types with the odd psycho-analyst thrown in for good measure. Moreton fielded their usual Thursday team, mainly consisting of workin' types, with Bomber thrown in for good measure. The "Big 3" arrived in Charlie's convertible to the sound of The Clash blasting out, and Carl was peeled from the deepest corner of the back seat, 2 sizes smaller than the start of the journey. News was that we were batting first, and Tim was sent straight out to bat with Nige.
Not an easy pitch to bat on, with the ball keeping low; Tim batted like an opener for the first time ever, and slowly accumulated 29*, but the steady fall of wickets at the other end, meant we were always under a par score. Bomber, at square leg umpire, looked concerned that his captain might "leapfrog" him in the batting averages with a highly promising 3 not out, but found the solution in his finger, spitefully giving him out off the last ball of our innings.

Back to the local for a few pints of expensive beer & delicious game pies. The journey home was somewhat marred by Bomber giving his car keys away to Joe, hiding in the bushes until everyone left, and then ringing round asking where his keys were ! Charlie manfully offered to drive back with aforementioned keys to rescue our star umpire !