My dearest one,

I hope you are well. I write to you from a field hospital somewhere near what I believe the locals call TwoTeng. I must admit I cannot fully understand their dreadful guttural language. I’m afraid I took a bit of a nasty knock in the final skirmish and am soon to go under the knife but do not fear for me, I have placed my faith in God and that our surgeon Mr Rossi has stuck to only 2 bottles of the filth they call wine here. I write only so that you may pass on what we brave soldiers of the Kings Road achieved t’other day. Heroes all, who deserve to have their names sung amongst the hallowed grounds of the Selkirk itself. Please spare me your time to tell you their tale…

We had known the battle was coming for months, ever since the infamous defeat of Battersea Park in April when the Warlord naming himself Dollin of the South Bank, with a motley following of lesser lords, defeated our platoon. We could not allow our defences in the forests of Dulwich to become overrun and so we were called upon to soldier arms and march to war. Something we all rushed to gladly, so over keen were the troops that General Jackson-Eastwood had to stand men down. We couldn’t be seen to be fearing this rebel by bringing too many soldiers. Just the one platoon should do it. 

The day before was blistering, soldiers leaving their thicker coats at camp when they marched off, myself included. Corporal Moorjani left theirs on the horse cart, how we laughed when they told us all later. Alas, the weather had turned against us. Grey, cloudy and rain was to be the measure of it. Nobody ever said it would be easy I suppose. 

First blood was to be ours, HUZZAH! The General won the toss of gold and nobly elected that we would face the bombardment of artillery first. Sergeant Sherman and Lieutenant Pinkney were to be the first rank to face the enemy. It appears that the South Bank had been finding new rebels during the last few months for both openers Murthy and Ramakrishnan were dangerous fellows. Murthy keeping heads down with pinpoint sniper fire whilst Ramakrishnan was throwing down rapid darts. Yet our boys were holding their ground and fighting back, Pinkney throwing his rapier about with absolute disdain. Dispatching one fellow so resolutely through backward point to the edge of the field that all stopped what they were doing to applaud. However, poor Pinks was to take a screamer that cannoned up and saw him edge one behind to the keeper, leaving with 8 to his name.

A leader from the front is our good general and not content to ask anyone to do a job he wouldn’t do, PEJ calmly walked to the parapet and began to give the rotters what for. Sherman rallied at the sight of our noble leader and continued to batter the enemy left and right, keeping the run rate after 10 overs at a very respectable 4 an over. Opportunities were there for the enemy to capitalise but they dropped everything in their path until a slower one that saw him chip one up in offering to Dollin for 22 undid Sherman. Bruised but not out of the fight he retired to the rear for now. One of our new boys at the crease now, Corporal Chinmay Brahme “Chinners” as we’ve come to call him. Apparently an old drinking buddy of the general. The two of them swatted everything aside that was thrown at them, the general firing one of the greatest cover drives off of Singh that anyone has ever seen, showing exactly why he should be at the front leading us in example. Chinners didn’t let the General have it all his own way and completely vandalised the attacks. Smiting one so far that it left the field of battle without a bounce. Damn glad he’s on our side I can tell you that much.

Unfortunately, Pete does not like things moving slowly, and a devil named Wragg was to be his undoing. Edged on by Quartermaster Keating from the side-lines for “Showing good intent” PEJ saw once skittle under his defences and bowl him for a superbly fought 41 and the run rate still very much in a strong position. It was at this point that the tide began to turn against us. Private Sham De Silva, came in and immediately tried to attack Wragg for what he had done to the general but that was to prove foolish as he was left stumped for 3. Our very own Welsh fusilier Sergeant Dave Hughes didn’t realise quite how slow Wragg was and wafted at a ball still 3 minutes in front of him before watching it roll into his stumps for 0. Lieutenant Newlove, the Hero of Haydon’s Road, went on the attack but unfortunately, Dollin had seen Newlove before and so his efforts were cruelly cut short, caught for 8. Something was required, for Chinners was getting tired holding up the fight by himself. Enter Moorjani, our Scottish saviour. No wonder the Romans couldn’t beat them. Nothing was troubling them. Chinmay revitalised with a solid partner continued the onslaught to such an extent that he reached the exalted realms of 50 and after much cajoling raised his weapon in triumph. The score had rumbled on and the warriors of South Bank were showing fatigue, with one even limping off, to be replaced by another waiting on the side-lines. It took the return of the openers to see off Chinmay, Ramikrishnan eventually got one through Chinmay’s defences and he was to be defeated for an excellent 58. 

Quartermaster Keating put down his itinerary and picked up his mallet. The old bear as he’s affectionately known by the troops began to swat at everything that came to him. A veteran of 230 innings, Keating has seen it all before and nothing was fazing him. What was bothering him was that he had left the kitbag unlocked and he was concerned that Newlove and De Silva were going to make their way in and pilfer the victuals. So almost with disdain he parried one back to Singh for a quick 10 and hurried back to his proper job. Myself, I came in at the end and together with Moorjani made sure that the score reached a healthy 204. Moorjani finished on a very respectable 35 not out. Drummer Mahony left in the hutch, which was just as well as he spent most of it asleep. Probably been knee deep in the Quartermaster’s hooch, the loveable Aussie rogue that he is. 

With both sides having required a break to revitalise, the enemy now found themselves having to chase our total. 10 wickets or 204 runs to decide who was to hold Dulwich from here on out. 

Myself and Newlove were handed the task of seeking the first breakthrough against the Warlord Dollin himself. Whilst we kept the enemies heads down, it was not to be until the 10th over when Newlove claimed his first scalp, Dollin caught by our general himself. Newlove finishing with figures of 6-1-13-1. Mahony and Moorjani had taken over from the opening salvo, one right arm swing, and the other left arm swing. Pity the opposition. Moorjani got amongst them and like a Pictish berserker from yesteryear wouldn’t stop until nothing was breathing in front of them. First a well caught skier taken by Sherman, then a death defying grab by Chinners behind the stumps, moving down leg before plucking the ball one-handed outside off after the batsmen edged it (which earned him the champagne moment). Not to be outshone, Mahony sent down one which would have dispatched anyone stood in front of him, devious swing from a lefthander meant that the 4th wicket saw the oppo’s stumps all a kilter. He finished with figures of 6-0-42-1 and signs of the decimation that he can bring once he gets over recovering from the plague. 

The Quartermaster, finally done with sorting out his stocks, claimed the ball and went at them. Quickly taking the wicket of Wragg, getting him LBW, plumb in front. An excellent wicket as Wragg has caused damaged to us before. Moorjani was frothing at the mouth at this point that others were taking wickets instead of them and so once again showed why they above all others should be feared. An aggressive away swinger was nicked by the batter and caught at slip by myself. Surprised to be in the fight but happy to assist. Whilst this was all well and good there was one who had stayed in and watched all fall about before him, which can be a sign of a rallying point. No matter, Moorjani bowled him too. Luckily, for the opposition, Moorjani had run out of overs at this point and finished on excellent figures of 8-2-19-4. The score at this point being 99-7. Hope was coming back; the local villagers were beginning to show their faces. 

Keating was to be the unfortunate victim of South Banks counter attack led by newcomer to the crease Singh who really took the fight back to the Road and seemed to revel in the slower bowling of crafty Keats. A number were to go over the ropes on the full, but it must be said that at this point the heavens had been opened for awhile and the grip of the ball was not what it could have been. Misfiring in rain is ever a soldiers misfortune. I was brought back by the General to do a job as my first spell had achieved bugger all apart from pestering the space outside off stump. 3 wickets were to be mine for the glory of the King, all bowled. 2nd of which dismissed the dangerous Singh for 46 with the score on 156-9.

The names of De Silva, Pinkney, Hughes and Sherman do not feature heavily in this 2nd phase of battle but they all kept the field in excellent fashion. Assuring that runs were not stolen by the enemy and putting the pressure that allowed the bowlers to go about their business safe in the knowledge that their comrades had their backs. Kudos to them as always.

The final ball of my last over was against their last man. If you are of a delicate nature, please do not read further as this is what brought me to the field hospital. As I charged in with my usual devilish charm, speed and delicacy, the tricksome Warlord Dollin who was umpiring must have put something in my path for as I landed in my attack, my left ankle was torn from underneath me as if the very ground was against me. A cry of such heroism and manliness had never been heard before and I crashed to the ground with what many have said was dignified grace and decorum in the face of almost certain death. Unbeknownst to me, I also dispatched the final enemy to bring victory for King and Country. And yet I fear it may be the end of me, the injury is said to be so grievous that they may have to amputate, and I truly hold no hope in the hands of Mr Rossi especially with his shoulder injury playing up after being attacked by local youths with balls. Yet if it is my time, know that I go safe in the knowledge I did my duty for King’s Road and Country.

AWARDS

Tantrum: Browny “I’VE ONLY BOWLED 7 OVERS PEJ”
Embarassing: Browny’s scream as he hit the deck on his final ball
Champagne: Chinmay sticks out a hand to take a stunning grab off Niall
MandyOTM: Niall

FULL SCORECARD: https://kingsroadcsc.play-cricket.com/website/results/5122346

Author: Chris Brown