The Old Dudes Vs Venturers, Wednesday August 28th

Old Dudes 94-4, Venturers 17-0

It was very late in the year for an evening match, and the light was already poor an hour before play was due to start. The Old Dudes are run by Everton Griffiths, and it takes more than that to stop him playing cricket. One strip was covered by a plastic sheet, on which deep puddles had collected. Running on it in spikes would puncture it; run on it without spikes and you would fall over. We fielded, of course, and managed to start promptly at a time when it was not actually raining. Chandrabhan was mostly accurate and occasionally made the ball fly from slightly short of a good length. One such ball flicked the glove of the right-handed opener, after a brisk start, but it was his left-handed companion who was the greater danger. James, at the other end, was less accurate and got hit through the covers several times, but then moved one back in and bowled him. One of the new batsmen was slightly frantic in his approach, the other much calmer. The more frantic one slipped setting off for a single that was not there in the first place and slipped again trying to get back, but Charles also slipped and scooped his throw over the wicketkeeper. He aimed at mid-on and skewed the ball off the back of the bat high over gully; he looped a fairly simple catch to cover, but Bruce, wary of the nearby sheet, made no serious attempt to catch it. He also hit several violent boundaries, almost all to cow corner, once losing his bat as he did so. Eventually one of these attempts resulted in a huge top edge, which Farooq, the bowler, called for and caught competently after a long wait. The new batsman was bowled immediately by Alex’s first outdoor delivery for several years, but by now Beckford’s Tower was invisible and the creases were getting very wet. Bruce’s statutory death over, if one may use the term on a ground so close to the hospital, provoked the usual amusement from the pavilion from those who have not seen him before, and yielded three runs from the first five balls. He spoilt it a bit with a leg-side full toss at the end.

Close inspection of the pitch was necessary before we dared to continue. We worked out that the club kit was still in Gregory’s office, but we had enough private kit between us, just about. The probably quick opening bowler squelched in and bowled a ball of medium-paced rubbish, which Charles hit for four, and two other unthreatening and uncomfortable deliveries. He promised not to injure himself, but then said he would bowl spin as it was simpler. He marked out a new run. The wicket-keeper, who hadn’t been told, noticed just in time. After three balls of decent offspin, over was called and the bowler, who had completely forgotten about his first three balls, protested that he had three left. He was reminded, and retired to square leg. At the other end, the first ball flew for five wides; the second attempt at the first ball hit Chandrabhan on the pads, and the second ball resulted in a scrambled single and a run-out at the nonstriker’s end. Paul gave Chandrabhan the benefit of perhaps not very much doubt. Charles got a more comfortable single. Chandrabhan decided to test Bruce’s bat: the ball vanished into the clouds. After a few moments it reappeared, landed on the roof of the (two-storey) pavilion, bounced down onto the roof of the bar and skittered like a pinball down to the ground.

At this point, after ten deliveries, the rain became so heavy that even Everton agreed that we just had to give up and go to the bar instead.