I’ve been whipped by Addington before. Frankly, it was less enjoyable than I thought it’d be. I kept shouting “wide ball, wide ball” like a safe word but they showed no mercy. It was the end of the season after all.

This time I wanted to do the whipping. Or at least outsource it. Because if there ever was a dominant Plough Sunday side, this was it.

Gumpert. McCreary. Ritik. Some useful new bloke called Lochie. Addington is the traditional last dance of the season. Except this time we’d be leading. And have a leash. Or so I’d hoped.

We arrive to…wherever Addington is…via an army of different modes of transport, like a modern day Milk Tray Man, except even he didn’t have to navigate the Croydon tram system.

We inspect the pitch, and it looks like the grass equivalent of Plough After Dark. Honestly, there’s mud everywhere, and not the exfoliating or sexy kind. It looks like the covers haven’t been put on since the club was founded in 1743. The worm cast to stump ratio can only be expressed logarithmically.

Ritik steams in and the pitch gives him and the rest of us two fingers by taking all the steam out.

Did I mention Addington are a quality side? They’re somehow navigating pea rollers while literally sliding around the crease. They’re not going fast, but they’re not going anywhere either. The opener finally times one back down the ground. Ritik sticks out a hand and accidentally runs the non-striker out like a genius. Cricket, eh?

We knock a few more over and we reckon we’re right in this. Sam ‘I’m off to uni’ Howes and Jay Patel snaffle smart chances. Even I take a catch (don’t worry, I drop one later).

Gumpert informs us he’s never taken a fiver for the Plough, which shows you how cruel a mistress cricket is, and he fancies one today. Chasing anything over 120 might be a stretch on this track, but when McCreary comes up with my favourite nickname of the day - Mo the Mop, because he cleans up the tail - and they’re all out on around 130 we reckon it’s game on.

The drizzle rain keeps falling though. We briefly consider putting the covers on during a rapid changeover but know we’d never get them off again if we did. Did I mention it was the last game of the season?

The increasing stodginess of the wicket proves too much for our top order. And our middle order for that matter, despite Ritik hitting sixes like it’s not only the last game of the season but the last game of his life, we’re struggling.

But when various attempts at mankads are made not through choice, but because bowlers are now starting to slip in their delivery strides, we reckon it’s time to activate the safe word (turns out you have to shake hands). When it’s called off at 43-6 from our 19 overs, it’s not the best way to end the season, but it’s not the worst either.

Justin Cash