An indication of how interesting someone’s life is, is how quickly they finish the match report. Hence, mine is finished 24 hours after the match. M. Andrews, 2022.
As Roaders descended on Battersea Park from various boroughs of London, we were filled with the usual misplaced optimism that accompanies the start of a new match. We arrived at a hay-strewn field of play, with tumbleweed drifting and vultures circling. Bizarrely there were cries of ‘the wicket looks green’. Was this a mirage? An oasis? or a groundsman that had finally come off furlough? Unfortunately, it was the astroturf next to our actual wicket, that provided the only greenery to our scenery. Due to the extreme heat and serious lack of moisture, the fitting of the stumps required the assistance of a mallet and some of our scarce water.
Our attention and most of the pre-match chat was about the toss, fears of 4 unfettered hours of mid-day sun was all consuming. PEJ looked nervous as he made his way to the middle with the opposition captain, wary of the potential mutiny that may be on his hands. Fears that the wrong result could lead to mass resignations, a leadership vote and the loss of donor provided renovations of his new house.
The captains did the obligatory look at the wicket, chat about the traffic and then it was down to brass tacks. It was a tense stand-off, both teams were camped in the shade on opposite ends of the pitch. There was a shake of hands, each team were vying for eye contact with their respective captain to find out who would scorch in the 30C heat first. As is their right, both captains preceded to walk all the way to the boundary edge, relishing in the attention before giving any indication of the result of the toss. The tension became unbearable, until PEJ made a shadow batting stroke. The first victory was ours, well done skip.
Sherman and Chinmay braved their way into the middle and quickly decided that a high scoring rate was the order of the day. This wasn’t a day for spending any longer in the sun than was strictly necessary. There were early cries for a potential champagne moment when Sherman hit a glorious cover drive in the second over, one for the cricketing purists as the pose was held. It didn’t win champagne, but was a high quality prosecco by anyone’s standards. Chinmay played a couple of trademark flicks off the pads. Despite two quick opening bowlers it all looked very comfortable until Sherman was struck on the pad, and he was quickly joined by PEJ and Chinmay back in the shade, who were victims of some late in-swinging deliveries. The Road had gone from 20-0 to 34-3 and the herd of Antelopes shuffled closer as they sensed blood.
In came both Mandos and Oscar. It wasn’t clear exactly what would happen, but we knew it would probably happen quickly. Despite conversations of ‘nothing silly until drinks’, 35 runs were added in the next 4 overs. Mandos made 26 with a few nice shots and minimal running, before falling victim to an ankle high bouncer. Dave Hughes joined Oscar in the middle to stabilise a frenetic Road innings, before falling to a pacy first change bowler.
Enter the Twyman, after a cautious start and a danger of back-to-back 10 ball ducks he opened his shoulders and took a liking to the spin bowling. Oscar meanwhile had moved from 5th to 8th gear and crashed boundary after boundary, and was rumoured to be chasing Ed Borton’s Kings Road strike rate record. Like some sort of video game, Oscar had unlocked a new shot this season after gaining so any batting points last year, and he was using the flick off the pads to great effect. Oscar brought up his fifty in style and raised his bat aloft. The partnership ended when Oscar was clean bowled but the pair had moved the Road from 90-5 to 162-6. A wonderful partnership and exactly what the Road needed.
Twyman then declared he would start swinging in the 30th over, and then preceded to get out after 30 overs and 1 ball. It was a great innings that saw him leave with 29 runs to his name. There were some useful runs down the order from Meshy (16*) and Ali (11) that gave us some momentum at the death and left us with 202 to defend. An excellent effort in arid conditions and a pitch with a lot of ‘natural variation’. Special mention to Chinmay for turning down a close LBW appeal and explaining to the bowler that it was not out because the ball ‘pitched outside off-stump’, to which the bowler replied ‘Yep, so what?’.
The Roaders made their way out to the middle, and the ridiculous heat led to the adoption of a few more floppy hats than usual. Oscar a frequent wearer of the floppy hat (and therefore a Canadian mounted police lookalike) then declared himself ‘The Kings Vogue’ who had initiated the trend. Ali opened the bowling, and second ball was the perfect outswing delivery that caught the batsman’s glove with a bit of extra bounce and was well taken by Chinmay in the slips. The new ball was shared with Mandos who gained revenge when a daisy-cutter rolled along the ground claiming the other opener. There was then a wide slash from the number 3 who was caught brilliantly again at slip by Chinmay.
The Antelopes first three batsman were removed for 0,0,0 (apparently the collective noun for ducks is a waddling). Then the self-proclaimed ‘Beast’ entered the fray, and as the name suggested started to take apart the bowling. PEJ noticed this change of momentum and switched up the bowlers. Sainthouse got the nod and delivered some of his vintage outswing deliveries and soon broke the partnership, assisted by Chinmay taking his third catch of the match. Shermer started nibbling at his fingernails upon realising his unofficial world record number of catches for an outfielder in one match was under threat. Shermer himself then came on to bowl, to try and reduce the number of batters left for Chinmay to claim. Shermer’s fizz on the ball led to a few bodyline deliveries and there were a couple of very close LBW appeals. Perhaps they pitched outside off.
The Antelopes were still hitting regular boundaries on the lightning-fast outfield. The Beast had thrashed the ball around enough to bring up a blistering century, despite some hostile bowling and body blows from Oscar to ruffle his feathers. The Antelopes were hurtling towards our total, an intervention was needed. Meshy was getting some serious turn and it eventually led to the demise of one of the set batters. He then quickly removed the poor batter who’d be padded up for the previous 2 hours for a duck. Roaders sensed an opportunity to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Everyone had a new lease of life, the pressure was building on the batters who were attempting increasingly risky singles. With 4 runs needed to win, Mandos’ long barrier, which across the game had seen more leaks than a St David’s Day parade, provided another gap for the ball to reach the boundary. Lemon & herb on the Nando’s scale.
We were eagerly awaiting the duck dance at the end of the game, but an impressive 5 ducks meant that we didn’t have enough beer to complete the task. Sorry Woody, we will make sure we bring enough booze next year. Despite another loss to the Antelopes it was a great effort from all involved, everybody contributed to the cause in the exhausting conditions. Shout out to Rossi who emerged halfway through the day bearing gallons of beers, buckets of ice and helpful advice. I’m a poet and I didn’t think I was.
“It is not despair, for despair is only for those that see the end beyond all doubt. We do not.” Peter Eastwood-Jackson (2022)