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Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Friday, July 20, 2007
Cuxham....ok so we're all square now...
Having had, by all accounts a very successful tour, we were delighted to play hosts to a touring team ourselves Cuxham (New South Wales). Like all Antipodeans this lot wouldn't shut up. After every ball it was "Oh great ball ritchie" and when batting "Oh great shot" even when the batsman had just about managed to get the bat to the ball. I am painfully aware that it's something that I failed to achieve, however my sentiments remain: SHUT UP!
So with that off me chest... Cuxham bowled, and bowled well, one of their sprightly openers has not learnt that if you're going to bowl fast you need to warn us by taking a long run up, having us in all sorts of trouble, and claiming a few wickets here and there. They also had a nifty spinner, who took an incredible one handed diving catch in gully to remove a stunned fuz. Bomber looked in good touch, Jonny also contributed, but when Kaz and Old Sam were in the middle the scoreboard started to tick along at a much faster rate. Sam was making some lovely clean shots, dispatching their last bowler into the field for a lovely six, and Kaz was edging effectively as well. In the end we posted a modest 103-6.
Cuxham's opening pair strode out to the crease, looking all the bit profesh in their matching kit, they walked back to the pavilion with their tails between their legs, having been on the recieving end of some great bowling from Jonny and Fuz. We were back in the game as we steadilly took more wickets, credit going to Tim for a great full length dive topped off with a majestic catch. And to Jonny for a backwards jog, a solid catch, and an arse over tit fall topped off with concussion.
Some dodgy scoring (though who can tell the difference between Kaz and Claridge anyway?) saw the new skippers plans scuppered. Cuxham did eventually knock the runs off, and it was a closer game than many would have anticipated.
So back to the pub where we shared some grub, and Lockey bought his half jug for a duck, I bought a jug for my golden duck, and Bomber bought his half a jug for dropping the tour.
Next week its the Tappin Cup...
So with that off me chest... Cuxham bowled, and bowled well, one of their sprightly openers has not learnt that if you're going to bowl fast you need to warn us by taking a long run up, having us in all sorts of trouble, and claiming a few wickets here and there. They also had a nifty spinner, who took an incredible one handed diving catch in gully to remove a stunned fuz. Bomber looked in good touch, Jonny also contributed, but when Kaz and Old Sam were in the middle the scoreboard started to tick along at a much faster rate. Sam was making some lovely clean shots, dispatching their last bowler into the field for a lovely six, and Kaz was edging effectively as well. In the end we posted a modest 103-6.
Cuxham's opening pair strode out to the crease, looking all the bit profesh in their matching kit, they walked back to the pavilion with their tails between their legs, having been on the recieving end of some great bowling from Jonny and Fuz. We were back in the game as we steadilly took more wickets, credit going to Tim for a great full length dive topped off with a majestic catch. And to Jonny for a backwards jog, a solid catch, and an arse over tit fall topped off with concussion.
Some dodgy scoring (though who can tell the difference between Kaz and Claridge anyway?) saw the new skippers plans scuppered. Cuxham did eventually knock the runs off, and it was a closer game than many would have anticipated.
So back to the pub where we shared some grub, and Lockey bought his half jug for a duck, I bought a jug for my golden duck, and Bomber bought his half a jug for dropping the tour.
Next week its the Tappin Cup...
Friday, July 13, 2007
Bomber drops the tour..........
As promised, there's more from Brighton.
Day 2 Thursday 12th July
Eventually driven out of our room by a methane gas surge, courtesy of Simon at 08:00- found no fellow tourists at breakfast, and thankfully George had knocked off, so peace reigned. The day shift were being briefed about the appearance of a traffic cone on the landing near Kaz's room, and Gerald & Anne were checking out, apparently satisfied that the tour was in good shape. I saw Nigel giving his new pads a good talking too in the lobby, and Kaz eventually appeared looking decidedly yellow around the gills. Photographic evidence suggested that he, Bomber, Will & Matt gang raped Johnny at 04:30. Will soon appeared wearing a "Right said Fred" vest and a cheap plastic ear stud, looking every inch a rent boy. Lunch at The Bull in Newick provided the necessary tonic before the game, and we arrived at the ground in good time, if not good shape.
An impressive ground, and we soon realised that they might have the players to match. Batting first, our hosts started to rattle the electronic scoreboard. Johnny got the first wicket of the day again, with a nice edge to Mike in the slips, but looked less pleased to be smashed all round the ground soon after. Crompo tried a spell up the hill, which in fact resembled a red run at Courcheval, and had to give way to Will, who at least bowled well enough to slow the scoring, despite throwing up behind their posh sightscreen earlier. The key moment of the game came when Bomber shelled an easy catch behind the stumps, and the reprieved little shi*te went on to get a ton, before Matt blasted him out with a ferocious, unplayable ball. Simon demonstrated his ability to multi task at mid off, taking a conference call whilst scratching his arse & picking his nose. Kaz ended up wicketless again, and fell out with their umpire, Tim spent the whole afternoon tantalisingly near the bar & deckchairs, Percy played for Newick, Squeak spent many hours at the bottom of the red run, and Mikey fumed at the appalling fielding. We got them out for an acceptable 197, and rushed in for an extended tea, and check on the racing results.
Batting proved tricky, and wickets fell steadily; Will managed partnerships with Crompo, Claridge (career best 10) & Mike, Nige got another Duck, and offered his pads to Tim, in an effort to break the voodoo. Tim scored 3 and Nige got spiteful, outrageously giving him out lbw- the writing was on the wall. The tail failed to wag, and we capitulated. Percy therefore ended up on the 2 winning sides, and Nige had a pair of losses to put with his brace of duck.Nice to have a few beers after in the pavilion bar, whilst planning our evening assault on Brighton & George.
Man of the Match- Will(Is it 'cos I is from Worcestershire) a solid all round game & great sledging
Highlight of the match-An all run 4 from Simon, who needed an oxygen tent to recover.
Cone Head & The Crinklies (what a great name for a band) bade us farewell, and we returned to the crime scene, but with a cunning twist- Chinese instead of Indian. Soggy Prawn Crackers didn't deter us, and a fairly good meal was enjoyed. More beer and a visit to a smelly urinal of a club called Casablanca, were the foreplay to the main event- George Baiting. We warmed up with cable reel bowling along the front, and the trip back passed quickly. The bar was raised, when George tried to evade serving us by unloading a lorry, Johnny suggested he kissed the other night staff, and George went off at the deep end- "an abomination to my culture" he said- almost as offensive as serving short measures is, in our culture ?
Day 2 Thursday 12th July
Eventually driven out of our room by a methane gas surge, courtesy of Simon at 08:00- found no fellow tourists at breakfast, and thankfully George had knocked off, so peace reigned. The day shift were being briefed about the appearance of a traffic cone on the landing near Kaz's room, and Gerald & Anne were checking out, apparently satisfied that the tour was in good shape. I saw Nigel giving his new pads a good talking too in the lobby, and Kaz eventually appeared looking decidedly yellow around the gills. Photographic evidence suggested that he, Bomber, Will & Matt gang raped Johnny at 04:30. Will soon appeared wearing a "Right said Fred" vest and a cheap plastic ear stud, looking every inch a rent boy. Lunch at The Bull in Newick provided the necessary tonic before the game, and we arrived at the ground in good time, if not good shape.
An impressive ground, and we soon realised that they might have the players to match. Batting first, our hosts started to rattle the electronic scoreboard. Johnny got the first wicket of the day again, with a nice edge to Mike in the slips, but looked less pleased to be smashed all round the ground soon after. Crompo tried a spell up the hill, which in fact resembled a red run at Courcheval, and had to give way to Will, who at least bowled well enough to slow the scoring, despite throwing up behind their posh sightscreen earlier. The key moment of the game came when Bomber shelled an easy catch behind the stumps, and the reprieved little shi*te went on to get a ton, before Matt blasted him out with a ferocious, unplayable ball. Simon demonstrated his ability to multi task at mid off, taking a conference call whilst scratching his arse & picking his nose. Kaz ended up wicketless again, and fell out with their umpire, Tim spent the whole afternoon tantalisingly near the bar & deckchairs, Percy played for Newick, Squeak spent many hours at the bottom of the red run, and Mikey fumed at the appalling fielding. We got them out for an acceptable 197, and rushed in for an extended tea, and check on the racing results.
Batting proved tricky, and wickets fell steadily; Will managed partnerships with Crompo, Claridge (career best 10) & Mike, Nige got another Duck, and offered his pads to Tim, in an effort to break the voodoo. Tim scored 3 and Nige got spiteful, outrageously giving him out lbw- the writing was on the wall. The tail failed to wag, and we capitulated. Percy therefore ended up on the 2 winning sides, and Nige had a pair of losses to put with his brace of duck.Nice to have a few beers after in the pavilion bar, whilst planning our evening assault on Brighton & George.
Man of the Match- Will(Is it 'cos I is from Worcestershire) a solid all round game & great sledging
Highlight of the match-An all run 4 from Simon, who needed an oxygen tent to recover.
Cone Head & The Crinklies (what a great name for a band) bade us farewell, and we returned to the crime scene, but with a cunning twist- Chinese instead of Indian. Soggy Prawn Crackers didn't deter us, and a fairly good meal was enjoyed. More beer and a visit to a smelly urinal of a club called Casablanca, were the foreplay to the main event- George Baiting. We warmed up with cable reel bowling along the front, and the trip back passed quickly. The bar was raised, when George tried to evade serving us by unloading a lorry, Johnny suggested he kissed the other night staff, and George went off at the deep end- "an abomination to my culture" he said- almost as offensive as serving short measures is, in our culture ?
A Tourists Diary
First a little background info for anyone unfamiliar :-
The Players......
Kaz Miles- Clubbing Captain & Hoover salesman- aka "cone head"-someone please paste in the photo.
Mike Howat-President's son, Cambridge Blue, stand in Captain when Kaz has a hangover.
Mike Stimpson- aka "Squeak" (why ?) -useful chap to have in the team if you want to know about local property prices.
Percy Stimpson- currently a Vice President of the club, but not for long according to Gerald- it was a typo !
Nigel Hessey- aka "Shandy"- stalwart of the club and team physio, with the newest pads in the team.
Steve Crompton- aka "Crompo"-hails from Bristol, but we won't hold it against him, if he brings the Beefeater Gin he promised.
Simon Claridge- larger than life software salesman, with the banter to match-farts like a hippo in a fish tank.
Tim Haworth- Landlord of The Bear (Pub of the Year in South Oxfordshire)- snores like a wart hog in a phone box-apparently.
Johnny Yaxley- Midweek Captain, & Hairy Landscape Gardener -aka "Swagger"
Will Macdonald- Scruffy youth-talented sledger, bat & Johnny's Bitch
Peter Lancaster- aka "Bomber" -retired artist, supported by his wife while he tries to get established as a F1 driver
Matt Wicks- Guardian reading, sandal wearing, beardie, electrical wholesaler. Recently voted best fielder in South England by an online poll.
Supporting Cast-cameo performances from....
Gerald & Anne Howat- "The Doctors"- The President pops up on tour to check standards are not slipping, and usually leaves disappointed.
Alf Crompton- Steve's Old Man- though they actually look the same age. Has finally retired as Kitty man-apparently the introduction of a new£20 note was the final straw.
George Foreman- retired boxer & grill salesman, now Night Manager at The Ramada in Brighton. Likes nothing better than a good party in the hotel bar after a few Campari + grapefruits.
The Venues......
Ramada Jarvis Hotel, Brighton Seafront Hotel, home to the touring team, apart from 2 Pennypinchers who stayed in St Christopher's Hospice, down the road, sharing a room with a corpse to save money.
Plumpton Agricultural College-re-branded as a Centre for Rural Based Studies, but still a cow field in the middle of nowhere, by any other name.
Newick CC- smart ground in rural Sussex with large pavilion, club bar, electronic scoreboard, & its own ASBO Shelter for the local hooligans
Day 1-Wednesday11th July.
Left late due to Simon Claridge shopping for tiles at B & Q. Bomber's car, surprisingly spacious. First row after 5 minutes, about best way onto M4. Bomber insists on going via every BP garage to get his nectar points; apparently he only has to spend another £15,000 on fuel to get enough points to get his coveted hedgetrimmer. Matt reads The Guardian, Tim reads a pub trade paper, Simon farts & picks his nose, Bomber "floors it" to Reading Services. We overdose on Jelly Babies, and get overtaken on the M25 by Kaz, Johnny & Will, who left 6 hours after us. We book in to our Hotel- Kaz bags the best room- the view from the toilet is "to die for".
A quick lunch at The Half Moon is next on the agenda. A fair enough pub, in the sticks, full of wrinklies, who have time on their hands, and rather surprisingly, a picture of Ernie Collins on the wall. We order Ham Baguettes with chips, 'cos this will be quickest ? Bomber's chips vanish between kitchen & table, and another row ensues. We arrive at the ground rather late, to find Gerald has already pacified the opposition, by giving them all signed copies of his books. He briefs us all on the high standards of the club, as we all open bottles of Becks with a rusty screwdriver. Nige donates himself to Southwick, who look amazingly grateful; ignorance really is bliss ! Simon's method of organising matches bites him the arse, as it appears another team are waiting for us, in another cow field over the downs; Simon tells them they should field first, and we'll be there in a jiffy. Meanwhile we knock over Southwick for a modest 119, with Percy starring big time with 5 for 9 in 3 overs- his bowling was seriously unbelievable. The old pros caution us that with the outfield being so slow, it might be tougher than we think. Squeak, Tim, & Kaz ignore the advice, and get out trying to smash the ball around, and it's left to Mikey & Willy to steady the ship, before the Gardeners nip in and take the glory, hitting the winning runs with at least an over to spare.
Man of the match -Percy "paceman" Stimpson for his fifor. His name has been scratched on the Southwick honours board, which doubles as a pig pen in Winter.
Highlight of the Match- Nigel getting a duck for the opposition- he's starting to fret that his new pads maybe unlucky, as this is his 4th consecutive duck since he bought them.
Return to the seaside via the Half Moon, who are still trying to fulfil their lunchtime orders; luckily a couple of customers have died in the interim, so the waiting list is shrinking. Freshen up, and head into "town" for a curry. The "crusties" get us banned from one pub, by looking menacing, but we eventually settle for a few in the aptly named "Victory", before hitting the curry house, where Bomber notched up a personal best, eating everyones left overs. After being refused entry to several clubs, for being too old, Johnny decided he would have to entertain us by throwing himself into the sea, fully clothed. The Hospice 2 accompanied Will & Kaz to a club, and for the rest of us, the hotel bar now beckoned, with its global reputation as "the bar that never closes until the last guest leaves" we were confident of a good finish to the day. We were therefore rather surprised to find it closed, and guarded by George, the duty manager. After a 20 minute row he grudgingly served us some drinks, and attempted to exact revenge for us disturbing his evening, by asking £8.55 for a Campari. Naturally he was told to F@@k off. At this point Nige notched up a PB, this being the latest he has ever stayed up; unfortunately he had taken his pads off by now, so the chances of it reversing his ill fortune seemed slim. Johnny & Tim decided to continue "George baiting" by staying up, and ordering some more drinks; George retaliated by insisting that TV with no sound still might keep other guests awake !
To be continued next time I'm bored................
read the next installment to find out how Bomber "dropped the tour" & George's next move in his battle with the infidel customers. Did Nige get any runs with his unlucky pads ? - all exclusively online in Moreton Midweek.
The Players......
Kaz Miles- Clubbing Captain & Hoover salesman- aka "cone head"-someone please paste in the photo.
Mike Howat-President's son, Cambridge Blue, stand in Captain when Kaz has a hangover.
Mike Stimpson- aka "Squeak" (why ?) -useful chap to have in the team if you want to know about local property prices.
Percy Stimpson- currently a Vice President of the club, but not for long according to Gerald- it was a typo !
Nigel Hessey- aka "Shandy"- stalwart of the club and team physio, with the newest pads in the team.
Steve Crompton- aka "Crompo"-hails from Bristol, but we won't hold it against him, if he brings the Beefeater Gin he promised.
Simon Claridge- larger than life software salesman, with the banter to match-farts like a hippo in a fish tank.
Tim Haworth- Landlord of The Bear (Pub of the Year in South Oxfordshire)- snores like a wart hog in a phone box-apparently.
Johnny Yaxley- Midweek Captain, & Hairy Landscape Gardener -aka "Swagger"
Will Macdonald- Scruffy youth-talented sledger, bat & Johnny's Bitch
Peter Lancaster- aka "Bomber" -retired artist, supported by his wife while he tries to get established as a F1 driver
Matt Wicks- Guardian reading, sandal wearing, beardie, electrical wholesaler. Recently voted best fielder in South England by an online poll.
Supporting Cast-cameo performances from....
Gerald & Anne Howat- "The Doctors"- The President pops up on tour to check standards are not slipping, and usually leaves disappointed.
Alf Crompton- Steve's Old Man- though they actually look the same age. Has finally retired as Kitty man-apparently the introduction of a new£20 note was the final straw.
George Foreman- retired boxer & grill salesman, now Night Manager at The Ramada in Brighton. Likes nothing better than a good party in the hotel bar after a few Campari + grapefruits.
The Venues......
Ramada Jarvis Hotel, Brighton Seafront Hotel, home to the touring team, apart from 2 Pennypinchers who stayed in St Christopher's Hospice, down the road, sharing a room with a corpse to save money.
Plumpton Agricultural College-re-branded as a Centre for Rural Based Studies, but still a cow field in the middle of nowhere, by any other name.
Newick CC- smart ground in rural Sussex with large pavilion, club bar, electronic scoreboard, & its own ASBO Shelter for the local hooligans
Day 1-Wednesday11th July.
Left late due to Simon Claridge shopping for tiles at B & Q. Bomber's car, surprisingly spacious. First row after 5 minutes, about best way onto M4. Bomber insists on going via every BP garage to get his nectar points; apparently he only has to spend another £15,000 on fuel to get enough points to get his coveted hedgetrimmer. Matt reads The Guardian, Tim reads a pub trade paper, Simon farts & picks his nose, Bomber "floors it" to Reading Services. We overdose on Jelly Babies, and get overtaken on the M25 by Kaz, Johnny & Will, who left 6 hours after us. We book in to our Hotel- Kaz bags the best room- the view from the toilet is "to die for".
A quick lunch at The Half Moon is next on the agenda. A fair enough pub, in the sticks, full of wrinklies, who have time on their hands, and rather surprisingly, a picture of Ernie Collins on the wall. We order Ham Baguettes with chips, 'cos this will be quickest ? Bomber's chips vanish between kitchen & table, and another row ensues. We arrive at the ground rather late, to find Gerald has already pacified the opposition, by giving them all signed copies of his books. He briefs us all on the high standards of the club, as we all open bottles of Becks with a rusty screwdriver. Nige donates himself to Southwick, who look amazingly grateful; ignorance really is bliss ! Simon's method of organising matches bites him the arse, as it appears another team are waiting for us, in another cow field over the downs; Simon tells them they should field first, and we'll be there in a jiffy. Meanwhile we knock over Southwick for a modest 119, with Percy starring big time with 5 for 9 in 3 overs- his bowling was seriously unbelievable. The old pros caution us that with the outfield being so slow, it might be tougher than we think. Squeak, Tim, & Kaz ignore the advice, and get out trying to smash the ball around, and it's left to Mikey & Willy to steady the ship, before the Gardeners nip in and take the glory, hitting the winning runs with at least an over to spare.
Man of the match -Percy "paceman" Stimpson for his fifor. His name has been scratched on the Southwick honours board, which doubles as a pig pen in Winter.
Highlight of the Match- Nigel getting a duck for the opposition- he's starting to fret that his new pads maybe unlucky, as this is his 4th consecutive duck since he bought them.
Return to the seaside via the Half Moon, who are still trying to fulfil their lunchtime orders; luckily a couple of customers have died in the interim, so the waiting list is shrinking. Freshen up, and head into "town" for a curry. The "crusties" get us banned from one pub, by looking menacing, but we eventually settle for a few in the aptly named "Victory", before hitting the curry house, where Bomber notched up a personal best, eating everyones left overs. After being refused entry to several clubs, for being too old, Johnny decided he would have to entertain us by throwing himself into the sea, fully clothed. The Hospice 2 accompanied Will & Kaz to a club, and for the rest of us, the hotel bar now beckoned, with its global reputation as "the bar that never closes until the last guest leaves" we were confident of a good finish to the day. We were therefore rather surprised to find it closed, and guarded by George, the duty manager. After a 20 minute row he grudgingly served us some drinks, and attempted to exact revenge for us disturbing his evening, by asking £8.55 for a Campari. Naturally he was told to F@@k off. At this point Nige notched up a PB, this being the latest he has ever stayed up; unfortunately he had taken his pads off by now, so the chances of it reversing his ill fortune seemed slim. Johnny & Tim decided to continue "George baiting" by staying up, and ordering some more drinks; George retaliated by insisting that TV with no sound still might keep other guests awake !
To be continued next time I'm bored................
read the next installment to find out how Bomber "dropped the tour" & George's next move in his battle with the infidel customers. Did Nige get any runs with his unlucky pads ? - all exclusively online in Moreton Midweek.
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