Match report - vs Thirsk CC, 31st August, 2024.
Written by Andy Wood
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Zai Ali had had a tough few days. It’s not every week that you move house and at 71 years young, he was really starting to wish that he’d unlocked his wallet and hired Pickford’s. As he lugged the umpteenth box from his £60 bargain hire Ford Transit, it suddenly struck him what false economy is, as he contemplated £300 for private physiotherapy ..... or as a bare minimum £34.99 for a new truss!
It hadn’t helped that Jan had spotted him boxing up all of his old St Chads scorebooks and sneaking them into the van, a reminder of glorious days when among other achievements he hit Pecker for a first ball cup final six .... and then mocked the unfortunate fast bowler by calling him a medium paced donkey ..... something that Pecker certainly was not ..... for at least another 10 years!
Well Jan wasn’t having any of it. Instructing Zai to unpack and burn his cricketing past, she pointed out that having downsized, there just wouldn’t be room for the scorebooks AND the bulk supply of Sanatogen which got Zai from one day to the next! The fact that Zai had subsequently “accidentally” torched Jan’s complete 1970s collection of Smash Hits magazines, mainly featuring her teenage crush The Bay City Rollers, was just that .... a pure accident. However as he scarpered from the new house (ironically in the doghouse), to set off for South Kilvington, he was only too aware that she wanted to both smash and hit HIM ..... so he wisely left her to take out her anger on the carpet fitters instead. He would make it up to her later ......
Within the hour he was parking up with the rest of the gang at South Kilvington CC for the game with Thirsk, a scenic triangular island of green grass, wedged between the A168, the A19 and the A19 slip road. With the amount of absences this week, while it would be wrong to say that the boys were down to the bare bones, it’s fair to say that the bones were nonetheless even more scantily clad than Sharkey .... currently cavorting by the Mediterranean wearing just his ‘one size too small’ Speedos!
Such was the desperation for an eleventh player, that Pecker’s categoric “No I can’t play”, had turned into “Oh bugger it, go on then” a full two minutes later. All the willpower of a 32 stone Weightwatchers member and a standard of U-turn not seen since the far right grifter Nigel Farage announced that he’s a big fan of Clacton on Sea!
Talking of desperation Rast was captain for the day, a decision almost certainly down to one of a) the many years of experience, b) the ability to set the example to the young lads .... or c) the fact that he was sat next to Sharkey at the pub last week when he was looking for a mug ... er volunteer. At least he was playing the part well though, rapping on the rock hard surface before the toss .... and promptly bruising his Fairy liquid hands knuckles in the process. Yes it’s fair to say it was a firm deck, albeit dustier than a 5th day test match pitch in downtown Chittagong. Didn’t matter anyway, Rast had decided days in advance that the boys would chase.
As Callum’s 5th ball of the first over whizzed past the unhelmeted opener’s unsuspecting nose off a good length, thwacking into Ben’s upturned gloves, he wasn’t unhappy with his choice. The 4th ball had already thwacked into Ben’s gloves off the outside edge, but sadly gone down. It wasn’t all bad however, the ball was on a collision course with Rast’s gnashers at first slip before Ben’s unsuccessful intervention.
Callum’s opening spell had good pace, while at the other end Rast’s most certainly did not. It was the aged one though who finally made the initial breakthrough with a straight one. His nephew had also shelled a sitter off him in an act of ineptness that screamed “I hate you Uncle Rast!” Christmas may be a little lean for the youngster this year!
It was now time for a master stroke though with a double change seeing Zai coming on to rag it square in the dust and Pecker bowl good old fashioned “you miss I hit” at the other. They did and so did he. Wickets were falling regularly and Callum took a storming catch in an act of brilliance that screamed “I love you Uncle Pecker!” Perhaps the youngster may get a Christmas present after all.
At the other end Zai was proving dangerous and not just in terms of wickets. He’d already hit one guy in the shoulder, with what was basically a 45mph vicious bouncer and now here he was removing another batter’s cap, with a rearing delivery that thankfully didn’t also remove his front teeth!
Late wickets from Rast, seemingly bowling slower than Zai, despite putting all his effort into it, saw the Thirsk innings fizzle out at 119, with Pecker owning a magnificent and cheap five-fer. As the gang made their way off for teas, Emma’s subsequent announcement that there were no sausage rolls because Baz couldn’t find Manchester on his own, saw Opper physically cry .... as he then had to drive into Thirsk in a desperate search for petrol station food!
Back on the field it was to be Baz and Toby to face up and both were soon bashing the boundaries. A good start was needed to settle the nerves and that’s exactly what happened, with 40 on the board before Toby missed a slog sweep. Rast now joined the free flowing Baz and in an act of sheer irony suggested running a two. Only a direct hit from the boundary could threaten danger and as a direct hit from the boundary promptly arrived at Baz’s end, he was left to rue his luck and Opper’s unbiased umpiring.
Calm was needed but by now Thirsk had spin on at both ends and it was turning two feet and leaping off a length. Still Stevie was calmness personified as he calmly walked back to the hut first ball. Elliott had been promoted and he hung around, blunting the attack and annoying the bowlers in equal measure, before being bowled swinging across the line. Opper also stuck around for little reward and when Ben came in just 20 were required. That number had reduced to just 4 when Rast oafishly slashed a glory shot straight to cover and Ali put her red pen away once again. As finger nails were chewed a deflection off Claz’s fat arse saw the winning boundary scored and the boys prepared to seek out the county’s most difficult to find pub.
Exiting the ground is spine tingling stuff, with the need to pull out straight onto the fast flowing A168. Baz’s manoeuvre against the oncoming traffic certainly gave some motorist the opportunity to practice their emergency stop skills! Meanwhile having found the pub (in Rast’s case having got halfway home in the process, with more swearing than at a docker’s convention) everyone was settled down in a big circle, enjoying the ambience of a scenic beer garden. Also enjoying the beer garden was the Landlord’s pet dog, who judging by what was evacuating out of it’s arse in the middle of everyone, had also recently enjoyed a mightily hearty feed!
At least everyone had seen and heard the gross act (It was piled 6 inches high and steaming anyway), but as a seemingly oblivious Zai made his way across the grass towards the bar, the screams of “ZAI NO!!” went unheeded, as the Chairman promptly proved his own emergency stop skills to be lacking. Team mates and (soon to be former) friends held their collective breath as his right hush puppy ploughed into the mush FROM the puppy and then held their breath once more as the all too familiar reek diffused across the locality. As the guilty pooch wagged it’s tail in appreciation at Zai’s misfortune, the veteran spinner decided that the best course of action would be to wipe it all on the grass JUST outside the door to the bar, right next to where the opposition were sitting. And the teams had got on so well! Anyway if he was going down he was taking others with him. It never ever vacates the grooves though Zai!
Meanwhile over in Collingham a delighted Jan had just finished hoovering her expensive new carpet. “Oh Zai will be back soon”, she gleefully thought to herself “He’s going to love walking on this!”
