We are a London-based cricket club. Although we don't have our own pitch, we usually play our home fixtures in Greenwich Park. This blog records our regular triumphs and occasional failures.

Monday 20 August 2007

CCC v New Barbarian Weasels



Don't you love it when a plan comes together?
A fine team win this, in damp and dark conditions at Greenwich.
The 'Natti made first use of the bed of snakes which is our home pitch at Greenwich Park. We must have been on the same strip that prompted Moyners to remark here upon being skittled for zero two years: "It spat like a cobra."
Well, Lurpak was undone by a delivery that "lashed like an eel", pitching a good yard outside off and cutting back to clip the stumps, from the Weasels' star opening bowler.
CCC were in deep trouble, losing the Skip cheaply and The Shot shortly afterwards.
Then Desperate Dan came to the crease.
With a mixture of patience and brutal hitting, he tamed the venomous combination of good bowling and horrible gardening which had ruined several batters' afternoons already.
On the way to an unbeaten and ultimately matchwinning 77, Dan lofted five sixes out of the ground, three of which came in successive balls, including one majestic straight drive which nearly destroyed Greenwich Park's sole surviving sight-screen.
The parakeets were not pleased.
In the Chairman's absence, the vice-captain provided a fabulous tea, adapting his now famous "ready, steady, bat" technique to the subtle arts of the kitchen. Happily, he had more success carving pork pies than short balls outside off stump. The feast was again augmented by lucky brownies from Amy, whose clinically obsessive compulsion to bake thankfully shows no sign of getting better.
After a rousing huddle, complete with our very own second-hand theme tune, Cincinnati's soldiers of fortune took the field to defend 167.
From somewhere near the covers, Moyners was heard to mutter, "I ain't gettin on no plane, you crazy fool", before Tom offered him a milk drink to calm down. (In any case, the Skip decided not to bowl himself, thus making it safe for air traffic to resume its normal flight path over Greenwich.)
An all-round effort of tight bowling from Rocky, Max, Adam, Chris and Dan - allied to some excellent wicket keeping from Tom - restricted the Weasels when they looked set to chase down our total. In the end, Weasels finished 20 runs short. It was a soggy but tense encounter.
:: Thanks to the excellent A-Team Shrine website for the pic of the boys (http://www.ateamshrine.co.uk/index.php).

Tuesday 14 August 2007


Chaps,

Just to clarify - there's a fixture missing off the list. It's on Saturday, September 1st against Village Cricket Club - new opponents who are providing the venue (I hope).

Scheduled last game is Sept 9 v. Frank's Finchley team at Finchley.

But JP and Andy O want to organise a final one against a team from the National Theatre. Any ideas for a venue and date, let either me or the Vice-Skip know - he never sleeps (especially in the hotel lobby at the end of the tour).

Monday 13 August 2007

Cincinnati: the Tour of Glory



Glory in Galway - the victorious 2007 team


Captain's Log: stardate - 13/8/07.

Selfish Batter's on his honeymoon, so it's left to the Skipper of all people to write up the 2007 Tour report.
By the way, may I just point out that although I will make an exception for Bevan (I have to - look at his batting average, folks), it is not club policy to be in a successful relationship in your private life. You have been warned.
And so to Galway and a string of successful decisions by by the Skipper in his grandfather's ancestral backyard, kicking off with booking a hotel about five miles out of town and picking the busiest weekend in the city's year (also known as the Galway Races).
Day One: the advance party drinks Freeney's bar dry, under the expert guidance of Tommy Glynn, mate of the Skipper's from way back when.
Our illustrious Chairman, reports say, wants to change his name to Andy O'Guinness.
1am: back at the hotel, the Skipper orders Max, Tim R (aka Lurpak) and others to stand up as the hotel bar band plays the Irish national anthem to close proceedings. The Captain goes to bed.
5am: the rest of the team apparently follows.
Day Two: Cincinnati v. County Galway Cricket Club. Our first match day dawns bright and fair, and then chucks it down for almost the entire game. To follow suit, Cincinnatians chuck down virtually every catch that came our way as Galway bat.
Are 10 chances really spilled? How does Lurpak still get three for 34 off six? Max snaffles one of them and is the only person to take a catch until new boy James "Tappers" Tapsfield performs an extraordinary three-part take off the Skipper's bowling, ending in a full-length dive. Bravo!

We almost forget that Tappers began the Tour by heading for the wrong airport.
Sadly, in another stroke of genius, the Captain agrees to the opposing skip's request to allow a "new chap" to have a bat at the end of the innngs.
Enter the honeymonster from Down Under.
"Muscles" smashes 50 off two overs. Four straight sixes off the skip's non-spinning legspin. The Captain even sends down a cowpat and that gets clearance to land at Galway airport a couple of miles away. Tim "Waistline" Moynihan goes for an economical 19 in the final over. Galway get 214 for eight off 40. The Vice-Skip (JP) considers a coup d'etat.
Cue a storming fightback by Cincinnati, based on a 130-run opening standing by Selfish (74) and Lurpak (71).
Sadly, Muscles turns out to be a dab hand at bowling. A triple-wicket maiden at the close wrecks our brave effort. Cincinnati fall agonisingly short on 207 for six off 40.
Day Three: Cincinnati v. NUIG CC (the Galway university side). Fine shines the sun on a historic day - our first win on a tour. When the Skipper takes a catch, it's a sign. Buy a lottery ticket.
Fine bowling (Jim one for 23 off eight, Selfish one for 12 off five, Frank four for 47 off eight, Andy O two for nine off 2.3 overs) and superb keeping by Rockie (didn't he used to be chairman? No? Oh, OK) restricts NUIG to 170 all out off 36.3. Rockie polishes off NUIG with a pearler of a one-handed catch off the Chairman's bowling, a la John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever.
A stubborn (that means dead-slow, scratchy and painful to watch) opening stand of 27 is posted in reply by Cincinnati by the Skipper and Stephen W (I won't use the doughnut boy line as he's rich enough to sue).
When Stephen departs, JP enters, looks in fine fettle but gets caught for just three, followed shortly by the Skipper who gets an absolute snorter (translation: misses a straight one).
No panic. Selfish (53 n/o) and Waistline (56 n/o) carry us home. Cincinnati close triumphantly on 174 (or 171, as it says in the picture) for three off 38.1 overs.
The match is played with fine sportsmanship from NUIG, including their club president Nitin (Rockie's getting ideas) and and the unforgettable "Durcacell"boy from Connemara, Sean O'Malley.
Ronnie, Stephen's father-in-law, surely enters the Guinness Book of records for watching the entirety of both tour matches. They'll never believe it in Ballygar.
Nitin treats us to pizza. We treat him and NUIG to beer. Was it a gay pub? Tappers discovers he's just tiled his new bathroom at home in the same style as the pub's gents toilet.
Day Four: More hospitality from Tommy Glynn and relaxation at the Salthill seaside resort on Galway Bay while the Skip heads inland to the old family homestead.
Amid emotional scenes at Galway Airport, the Chairman presents the Skipper with gifts worth exactly 15 euros 48 cents for organising the tour. Overwhelming. It's the thought that counts, including leaving the price tags on them. But why the leprechaun, chaps?
8.30pm: Tired but content, the tour party arrives back at Luton Airport.
All that remains is for a sweepstake on the train home on the age of Waistline's "fashionable" leather jacket (1997, he says. Er, yeah, right), won by Rockie.
Thanks to everyone - Galway CC, NUIG, Tommy and Malachi Glynn - for a great tour.
Stop Press: Next year's tour will be to Pembrokeshire, hosted by Selfish's old club of Stackpole and Bosherton.