Saturday Friendly
23rd September 2006
"I didn't go to the moon, I went much further, for time is the longest distance between two places" - Tennessee Williams (1911-1983).
And so it was that the men o'plough made the not inconsiderable journey across central London to Morden in deepest south London, known only to most of us as the southern terminus of the Northern line and rumoured to be somewhere near France. Average journey time appeared to be about two hours, but I had Simon Gillman in the car so it seemed far, far longer. We were rewarded with a very pretty, tree fringed park and a well maintained strip and outfield which we were surprised to learn is actually a council owned ground and has been our hosts home venue for around 100 years.
"Of praise a mere glutton, he swallowed what came,
And the puff of a dunce he mistook it for fame" - Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774) .
Skipper Nasser Khan lost the toss and Morden's captain elected to bat which suited us, given the new ball and damp but rapidly drying track. We were to play a forty-forty game and Gillers and I were to open the bowling attack. I began to regret conceding to his insistence that we consume such a large quantity of Kentucky Fried Chicken on the journey down.
Things started well for both of us despite a couple of loose balls from my end, and Gillers delivered a characteristically sharp performance despite several kilos of Colonel Sanders finest. So sharp in fact that he flattened the middle stump of Morden skipper Newton (1), with an in-cutting rocket through the gate in his first over. Let's hear it for spicy chicken wings.
This brought Eagan (9) to the crease who failed to score noticeably against good pacy bowling from both ends. He fell eventually to Gillman, launching a bullet-like drive towards Paul Lane at mid-off that would have carried many a lighter weighted cricketer over the boundary with it. Laney however, caught it between his upper arm and ample right man-breast, to the obvious disappointment of Eagan who was replaced by Morden number four, Ganatra.
The first bowling change was made after ten overs and Simon and I quietly congratulated ourselves. It was a sweltering hot and humid day and we had restricted Morden to just 24 for 2 assisted by some excellent all round fielding and constant advice and encouragement from Kevin McEvoy and keeper Dyll Davies.
The track was drying out now though, and change bowlers Barras (0-71), Ashton (0-41) and Khan (0-18) struggled to break what was to become the biggest partnership of the game despite all bowling the occasional unrewarded pearler. Ganatra (69), clearly a quality batsman always looked dangerous, and excellent opener Town, who engaged the close fielders in some good natured banter after surviving a close lbw shout from Gillman, piled on another 141 runs. Eventually yours truly (1-37) struck to hit the off stump of the former with a devilishly unplayable, reverse-swinging yorker in my second spell. Or did he just play all round a straight one? You decide.
The only other Morden wicket to fall was that of Town, trapped lbw for 81 runs during a creditable bowling performance by Kevin McEvoy (1-45). New men Saker (41 not out) and Page (8 not out) were to push the Morden total on to a lofty 235 for 4.
Special mentions in the field: Brenton Nichols who made some fine diving stops at gully and took a decent catch at short backward square off Will Barras' first delivery, unfortunately but correctly adjudged a no-ball.
Will himself, fielding at mid-wicket, somehow got his hands to a viciously hooked Ganatra effort that would have seen him dismissed first ball had Will managed to cling on to it. More a case of a stopped six than a dropped catch off Gillers’ only loose ball of his spell. Must've been the three boxes of popcorn chicken.
Gillman also took a fine catch at the long-on boundary but the sheer weight of semi-digested fast food in his stomach proved his undoing as the momentum of his run carried our favourite poulet-muncher over the line, avec la boule, for 6.
We retired for tea which, to the delight of Paul "Six Slices" Lane, included a superb chocolate cake and some rather good chicken wings and you just know who ate those.
Our own innings, opened by Nasser Khan and Mark Strachan, began well enough, both batsmen settling in quickly and sharing the 40 runs made before Nas was bowled by medium pacer Eagan for 21 in the 7th over. Strawny was quick to follow, bowled by Ballard the next over for 20. They were replaced by Steve Houchin and a bruised and bloated "Six Slices" respectively, who between them added another 54 runs before Laney (16) was bowled by off-spinner Patel half way through the innings bringing in Brent Nichols.
"Success is not a result of spontaneous combustion, one must set oneself on fire" - Reggie Leach (1950-present)
Morden's none-too-shabby bowling kept Brent relatively quiet until Goss bowled him for a hard fought 14 in the 27th over. We were now 128 for 5 with only 13 overs remaining to bag the 108 runs required for victory. Even the incredible effort being being applied by the rapidly reddening Stevie Houchin looked doomed to be in vain. Over 8 runs per over, things were looking a bit grim but Houchin wasn't giving up. Walking towards the scoreboard, glowing like a radioactive Swan Vesta ready to ignite, he shouted for a glass of cold water which when supplied he promptly poured over his head and returned to the crease. Steve was to make a fine 47, eventually caught by the keeper off leg-spinner Saker.
"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more unto the breach" - W.S. (1564-1616) King Henry, King Henry V, act 3.
But it was to be act 2 for PCC's scourge of poultry, Simon Gillman. Any hope he had harboured of quietly downing the three Zinger burgers he had hidden under the car seat disappeared. Nasser had spotted a chink in Morden's armour and set about exploiting it with an inspired change to the batting order and in doing so, rewrote the script. Morden's attack was all spin at this stage, who better to exploit this than Bargain Bucket himself? Gillers was promoted from his more customary number eight spot, to six.
His innings started defensively but it wasn't long before Gillman began to get peckish and decided to push things along in order to get down to Chicken Shack quicker. And he did it in style, blasting seven fours and four sixes to top score for PCC with 74 hugely entertaining runs off just 42 balls! It really was finger lickin' good. He also lost two match balls. Morden's fielders regular visits to the surrounding shrubbery prompted a comic moment from one of their supporters who produced a long handled fishing net and stood with it on the edge of the park ready to catch the next one. When Gillers was finally bowled by Eagan he had increased our account to 225 for 8 and we were entertaining thoughts of winning. Trouble was I replaced him, joining Will Barras in our quest for the remaining 11 runs from the final over.
It was getting dark now but Will managed to add another five. Six to win, I've got the strike but only manage to plop it out to mid-off and take a single, sending Will back (perhaps over cautiously) as he came for the second run. This annoyed both Matt Ashton who was padded up and itching to join the fray, and my off-field team mates who suggested a few new club names for me, none of them printable.
Five to win off the final ball, I joined Will half way down to plan our strategy, "I'm just gonna f***ing whack this" he said, and we agreed that we wouldn't stop running until some bails fell. And f***ing whack it he did, a decent cut past point. All we knew was that it was on the ground somewhere as we took off, and that's all Morden's fielders knew. Will had managed to deposit the ball in the darkest part of the ground, so dark in fact that nobody could see it! We ran two, three, four, before the WICKET KEEPER located the ball just inside the point boundary and threw it in, we had turned and were on the winning 5th run.
Unfortunately the throw was a good one and Will was run out by less than two feet.
An error in the accounts department discovered later by Dyll, showed that we had actually made 234 and not the 235 that we thought had tied the runs scored.
This was a great game of cricket played in the right spirit against a nice bunch of blokes. Both we and the Morden boys agreed that if possible, this should become a regular fixture.
"Look at the size of that!!!" exclaimed Gillers excitedly on the drive home. I looked up towards the subject of his breathless attention. We were in Tooting Broadway. Right outside its impressively large branch of Chicken Cottage.
Scooper