I wondered which god I had angered to shut the entire piccaddilly line down.

Had I maybe once not paid respect to Piccadilyphemus? Either way, the 2 hour journey over felt as equally perilous as thr odyssey. The woman selling hot dogs outside Brixton looked suspiciously witchy and I wondered if she had managed to snare any of my team to turn them into pigs.

Just as I started wondering which Ploughmen would be most likely to be trapped by Circe, I got a text. McGurn was saying something about a rib, which my bleary eyes couldn't quite decipher yet. After finally focusing, I realised it wasnt the nice kind, such as digging into one champion boss would deliver, but from the 1s game the day prior. Its broken and "he cant breathe." He tells me he can power through, but my mind starts to grow darker.

Having won the toss and decided to bat, my mind must still have been on barbecues, as I clipped a ball a foot wide of mid wicket and ran George Boughton out.

Well, if I've done that, I better at least make sure I capitalise, I think to myself. 3 balls later I walk down the pitch and hole out to long on.

Whiksy annoyed with myself, I realised sometimes you need to get the most dangerous men against the weakest parts of the opposition.

That's exactly what happened, as Sean McGurn smashed 72 off of 30 balls, in an enthralling partnership with Harry Edmonds who also contributed an excellent 59 of 41.

It would be very fair to say at this point we were maybe a little cocky. The gods decided to punish our hubris in kind.

As we had a small middle order collapse, it looked like Dulwich might have clawed their way back. Would we have wasted 2 fine innings by not finishing the job?

A gritty fight from the tail, strongly anchored by a good 31 from Alex Gordon-Walker, helped us keep the scoreboard ticking over, sparing us the embarrassment of being a little bit bazball. By the end of the innings we had managed a healthy 234.

Jackie put on a particularly exceptional tea, which may have been to our detriment, as we filled up a little too much.

This showed as Dulwich blasted themselves off to a rapid start, punishing James Anderson and Chad Mace after a couple of difficult drops had gone down.

85 for 0 of 9 overs looked bleak. Perhaps the gods took particular exception to some of my pre-fielding team talk, which was pretty poor, even by my standards. If over half the team groan, you know you've really struck gold.

To save the team from anymore of my alcohol-withdrawal based conversation, I swapped myself to deep long on, whilst bringing Oscar on to bowl, in the hopes his good looks would raise moral.

Their batsman, probably distracted by Oscars luscious locks, then decided to float a ball in my general direction. To mine, and most people's surprise, it stuck.

1 down. Was this the turn?

The mystery left arm spin of Greg Swaby was next up. Taking the lead from Oscar, he also decided the way to go was to smoulder at the batsmen until they got out. "Just a couple of 9s doing the business" was the shout.

The plan worked again, although, it must be said that in this case, it was down to an absolutely monumental catch from Leo Kelly. One handed over his shoulder as he back tracked.

What then followed was one of the most dominant displays of bowling and fielding I've seen Ploughmans have.

Oscar cleaved through the number 3s middle stump, and was unlucky not to get any more, with several popped up balls just falling short of fielders.

Greg continued to mystify them from the other end. One ball, Greg was clearly so charming that the batsman tried to waltz over to him for a closer look, allowing AGW to easily stump him.

The new batsman, who in fairness looked about 15, clearly decided he needed to stick around. A lot of maturity when the older heads in his team had fallen. He dug in and refused to attack. Until finally the Swaby charm made him crack.

In a thick top edged pull shot, Leo Kelly produced the oddest moment of deja vu, managing to take nearly an identical catch to the one he took before, this time covering even more ground, plucking the ball out of the air one handed like an expert falconer.

Clearly not content with just taking 2 world class catches, Leo then also manged to remove their number 7 with one of the most perfect deliveries ever seen. Perfect seam presentation, slight swing away, nips back in, clips the very top of the off stump bail. The ball was eventually recovered by a rather steamy giordy, who had been providing excellent support and tips from the boundary, from 3 pitches over.

At this point the vibes were approaching uncontrollable levels. A few chants of shower beers went around the huddle in the middle. We just had to finish off the job.

Greg duly decided to take the responsibility. Taking the 9th wicket with an edge to Sean at slip for his 4th wicket, before the very next ball trapping the batsman in front for LBW.

His first 5-fer for the plough, celebrated duly with some shirt waving above his head.

From 85-0 to 117 all out in the space of 12 overs. Whilst the numbers are impressive, it cannot highlight the minute things that go into that sort of performance. People diving at short extra cover to save 4. People running cow corner to cow corner even after being BBQ'd (I'll buy you many beers George). Grunting through the pain of broken bones as you spank a ball for 6.

Everyone gave it their all. All in, for one team. All in, for the Plough.

Match report from Harry Davies