Category: 2015

Has Anyone Got a Spare Quiche?

Vs Stella Select, @ Hampset CC, 3rd July 2025

Stella away games hold a special place in some Sloth hearts. Fresh usually books away games in car parks, schools or random fields. So to visit a proper, functioning cricket club with a working bar is a special treat.

The village adage was applied at the toss, “we have less players here than you so we should bat first”. Expert tactics from captain Fresh, knowing that this Sloth line up was a bowling powerhouse.

Sloths inserted, they peppered the preposterously short boundary, pouncing on anything short of a length to mercilessly hit the boundary netting willy-nilly. Laurie expertly swung and missed for an entire over, to lure in a false sense of security for the Stella attack, before then unleashing the hounds of hell in the next over. Matt Can’t-Bat Cox once again demonstrated his lack of batting by losing two balls, one in a hedge over the longest boundary and one over the 30 foot boundary netting into an Odd Down garden or somewhere down the hill at Dunkerton. It was an onslaught. A battering. Multiple Ben Ducketts in disguise. Whispers on the boundary spoke of a possible record. Loose lips muttered “could this be a 200 score?”. HA HA laughed Mother Cricket upon hearing such tomfoolery and, thus, Sloth wickets fell at once. Fresh played on, Jimmer looped to long-off, Stumpchat fluffed a leading edge to mid-off, The Gas Man was run out Johnny-Bairstowing-at-Lords-2023 and it took some late bashing by Ish and nurdling by Porridge to set the imposing target of 175 for a Stella victory on a dustbowl of a wicket.

Stellas lined up to tackle this mountain with a reversed batting order and were faced with the oncoming storm of Fahim and Quayom. Bowling a meaty full length, poles were taken and forward, defensive prods fully tested. HRP, Ish and Matt Can’t Bat continued this oppression, forcing Stellas to play across the line and then hear their stumps explode behind them in a cloud of splinters and sadness. Feeling the relief of some spin, Stella looked to score against Jimmer who then ragged one out of the dust to clatter the stumps. Resplendent in a new mid-week kit, Stellas looked like suped-up tuna marines that kept appearing at the wicket, to then immediately be darting back upstream to the safe pond of the pavilion. Lawrie proved too much, his left arm delivery from straight-out of the setting sun unnerved batters and, with two batters clean bowled in-a-row, he set up a hat-trick chance. 3 slips then lined up and immediately panicked as the delivery was sent down outside off. The wise-head at the crease left alone and regular Sloth service continued. As Sloth skip Fresh delicately described it “Porridge, you’re bowling from this end with the weak, shit and old Sloths” while at the other end, out of the amber setting sun flew the sprightly Sloths to demolish Stella souls.

As the target disappeared into the distance, HRP, returning for his third spell, took the final wicket and thus a comprehensive Sloth victory was secured in the dying embers of a mid-summer evening.

Over pork scratchings and actual non-cool-box-pints Sloths conversed about meaningful current events, such as: is padel better than tennis? Do we need pectoral muscles, really? Should we just continue to pay for remedial sports massages or actually stretch and warm up properly? Naaaaa another Thatchers for me please, I’ll stretch down when I’m dead.

Mustard Gasses

Once in a generation, a talent emerges with skills already so honed that the cricketing world can only stop and admire what might lie ahead.
James “Colonel” Mustard is one such player — brutal with the bat, devastating with the ball, and salmon-like in the field. We may well have witnessed the birth of a cricketer for the ages. But let’s rewind a second…
On a hot and sultry Bathampton night, the Sloths prepared to do battle with the Beavers in a game that promised half-fit, middle-aged men being bowled for a golden duck or sending down four wides an over — but instead delivered an elite display of everything that’s great about West Country amateur cricket played on private school pitches.
The Beavers started strongly, with a procession of excellent batsmen arriving at the crease one after another, smashing fours and sixes before retiring in quick succession. Despite the onslaught, the Sloths’ bowling was typically solid, with good spells (in places) from Bash, Joel, The Racing Snake, Tom, HRP, Ant, Nick, and Brent. The Gasman, in particular, was clearly rattled by an uncharacteristically expensive first over — only to respond with a stunning caught-and-bowled that left the game delicately poised.
With the match in the balance, it was time for an unfit player struggling with heat stroke and dizziness to shine. Jimmy used his vertigo to full effect, bowling a leg spin delivery so high in the sky it caused a minor solar eclipse, distracting the Beaver batsman just long enough for keeper Roy to do the rest. This wicket brought in Mustard — a player so adored by his Beaver teammates, failure simply wasn’t an option.
After a couple of sighters, he unleashed himself on the Sloth attack, picking his shots with a succession of fours. Like Graeme Hick before he played for England, Mustard revealed a previously unknown shot range and intensity to his game — clearly buoyed by the chance to shine in his Beaver colours. As Mustard batted on the total soared past 150, and the Sloths faced a daunting chase.
The men from Bathampton made a strong start with the bat. Nic looked typically graceful at the crease, making an unbeaten 30 over two sessions, while Jimmy timed the ball nicely to reach 13 before being well caught. His dismissal triggered a flurry of quick wickets, with that man the Colonel himself taking a stunning catch for the ages off a skied one from Roy. Showing a yard of pace and agility not seen in his time wearing sloth colours the proud Beaver didn’t disappoint.
After the dismissal of Joe for 6, HRP and Riccay came in to steady a creaking ship, with HRP swiping two monster sixes off his pads — widely described by onlookers (i.e. Jimmy) as the finest shots of HRP’s illustrious career. Rick’s casual approach to running was on display once again with his scoring options limited to either a languidly run single or a 4!
More wickets fell, including an unlucky golden duck run-out from Brent and the after effects of servicing Glastonbury VIPs triggering some overly optimistic strokeplay from Ant, before Bash entered for a stunning 22 at number 10 — a quickfire knock that will surely see him climb at least nine places in the batting order in time for the next game.
Sadly, it wasn’t quite enough to chase down the Beavers’ daunting total. Thirty-two needed off the last over was too much, even for the impressive Nic and Bash and the sloths fell short. As the Beavers rushed to embrace their hero Captain Colonel Mustard it felt like the end of one chapter and the start of another for the man from Bedminster.

Police Pen match report after Dad’s match

Don’t think us unkind
Words were hard to find
as Bathampton Cricketers unsigned
Battled with sloths of twisted mind

And as their bowling escaped me
And the batsman to the boundary made me

We beat de school, de dads ya ya
Is all we want to say to you
We beat the school, de dads ya ya
Their innocence will pull them through
We beat the school, de dads ha ha
Is all we want to say to you
We beat de school, de dads ya ya
Its meaningless and all that’s true

Poets, priests and architects
Cricket thanks them as rejects
Balls that scream for your submission
And no one’s batting their transmission

‘Cause when the Kestrel adds fuel
Or SDS in fact bowls you…

We beat de school, de dads ya ya
Is all we want to say to you
We beat the school, de dads ya ya
Their innocence will pull them through
We beat the school, de dads ha ha
Is all we want to say to you
We beat de school, de dads ya ya
Its meaningless and all that’s true

(Dey did do Do! Hey didn’t do da!
Tom, HRP, James and that Dan
Made a sloth look better than nathing!
Being both Sloth and dad made them pucker
but at least they qualified as sloth mother f.*&)@*

That extra inch

Having vowed not to play April games, due to being a proper sloth of old and acknowledgment of the “laws of hibernation” – I had missed the first three games of our season. In fact had missed nets altogether out of shear laziness, again see being an elder sloth.

Looking at Hampset / Stella as an opening fixture seemed perfect. I remembered them well as a bunch of unfit, aging, semi-alcoholic, half talented cricketers much like ourselves, if not more so. Arriving I suddenly realised that I had in all actuality, missed two seasons, three games and nets. Before me stood the “sons of Stella”, far fitter, less aged, probably tee total and talented.  Fek!

Batting, Brent and Painter opened magnificently and Captain Harding had decided to bat me 3 as a punishment (not sure who’s). I had kitted up and noted, not for the first time may I say, the club funds hadn’t purchased the long handled bat (requested at AGM’s 2019 through to 2024, pre AGM meetings and any other chance I could). Typical. Having donated my long handle bat to the club years back, it’s a sore point. The difference being that extra inch, which I have come to find makes the difference.

I batted badly mainly looking giving strike to the better batsman (everyone). And being a poor workman (cricketer) I will blame the tools. Failing to find a boundary on a pitch set for 11-year-olds, I scored a measly 6 runs off more overs and was eventually run out by umpire Frank. Who was kind enough to point out I had in fact had bat over the crease – just not grounded it. It had been about an inch above.

This ironic cruelty saved us the match as we had a depth of talent in the wings waiting for me to get out. Had we used it sooner – we may have one.

Sloths bowled well on a hard and unpredictable ground – Jimmi taking young fresh’s delivery 10 yards back and above his head. Brent and Ed bowling superbly and taking the final overs – as we were short a player. I should have gone to the nets and went for 19 no wickets.

We ended up in a tie – which although exciting, means you then go away knowing that, one run more batting, one run less bowling would have made the difference. One extra inch…

I went home and bought a sodding long handled bat.

A start of season Sloth hattrick.

They couldn’t, could they? After two huge victories, the sloths turned up on a balmy April evening ready to face the inevitable fall from grace to their old adversaries Bear Flat.
Thoughts of a 3rd successive victory seemed a distant dream after the team had battled through roadworks, sweat and a late start due to a close game at the school. Especially as half the sloths there were self titled ‘observer sloths’ only there to enjoy a cider and watch the collapse.
After a couple of cheeky 2s and a 4, the pair of Jimmers opening up obliged the spectators, falling to the good balls off the tricky opening bowler. Hardy came out and fully took on board the Colonel’s clear advice that ‘it’s shooting off the wicket, super fast mate’ and got out almost straight away to a sluggish delivery which stuck in the ground and trickled into the stumps at a snails pace.
The mood was dark, the Sloths faced one of their lowest points, 3 down, struggling for runs against an excellent attack, they needed a hero. And from that pit of despair came a batsman the talent of which had not been seen for a generation. Striding out to balls and hammering them with the speed of Thor’s hammer to the boundary, no bowler was safe. Like Theodin leading the Rohhirim on Pelenor Fields, clad in brand new shining white pads, he mustered the Slothirim and the fielding team’s spirit was broken. That man was James (the Colonel) Mcwilliam. And not only did he write this match report with not an ounce of bias, he saved the sloths from almost complete annihilation.
What actually happened, was that Dan (the Head) came out to bat and continued his fine form, smashing 4s and 6s down the ground, while the Colonel got lucky, was dropped twice and managed to connect with a few of his only shot, the ‘eyes shut slog to cow corner’.
The innings was drawn to a conclusion with some fine hitting from Brent Hoe and Tom Edwards, connecting beautifully to the long boundary and seeing the ball like a beach ball. Bashir added some useful runs with the tail and amid SDS’s outrageous profanities and complete distain for being asked to go out with a bat and play cricket (especially during a game of cricket no less) the Sloths got to a total of 127 off 16 overs. The hattrick was on!
The Bear Pit openers had their game face on, with a strong opening and probing attack from Lazarus and Sloth newbie Basir, they faced off the good balls and punished the slightly-less-than-good balls.
Dan (the Head) managed a break through after some solid fielding built some pressure, which led to a heave to Jimmer at slip. The catch was potentially the most slothlike fielding of the evening, a long, leisurely stretch to fetch the ball above head height and ending up arse over tit. It resulted in the breakthrough, a look of complete shock on his face, Jimmer was in the game.
At the 8 over change of ends, the game was still all to play for. The stage was set for a key few overs. Bear Flat needed runs, who did Tom turn to? The oversees signing, Brent Hoe stepped up to the mark. What followed will go down as two of the most pristine Sloth overs in history, not one run was found off the bat during Brent’s 12 balls, a feat which deserves it’s own chapter in the sloth history books. This was only improved by a blinder of a catch to Jimmer, completing a double catch evening.
This nearly became 3 after a tough chance in the sky off the Colonel, however after Tom’s reciprocal cricketing advice to ‘pitch it up’, James managed to pitch a few balls up to send a couple of the batters home.
With 45 needed of the last few, the skipper turned to Tom and SDS to finish off the innings. Two very tidy overs in the fading light from Tom all but secured the win, and with them needing 30 off the last, SDS stepped up to the plate and found his perfect line and length, balls falling out of the sky exactly where the batters didn’t want them, with endless missed heaves and cuts as SDS flummoxed the opposition.
The day was won, almost a 30 run victory completing the Sloth Hatrick. There was an air of gentle disbelief around the ground….

There will come a day when the runs and wickets of Bathampton will come crashing down. A day of ruin and dropped catches, of diabolical fielding and sub 50 run totals, but it was not this day! This day we fought, Sloths of Bathampton!

Bathford Nafbowling Blownaparte by Nelson’s Heavy Firepower


Napoleon once said ‘La vengeance est un plat qui se mange froid’. Nelson, who got an E in GCSE French because he spent revision time in the nets, didn’t understand what on earth he was on about. Peu importe one might say having witnessed the admirable display of prowess by the young Nelson at Bathford on what was a perfect mid-summer’s evening at Bathford.

The away venue proved a difficulty for most of the selected team, as tardy Sloth texted fellow tardy Sloth variously noting that they would be late. With Edwards at home nursing his groin following his exploits the evening before*, the team on paper was down to 8 players. Strong leadership was going to be required in the face of such a paucity of players. Alas the leadership, aka Chairman Franks, was also ‘going to be a little bit late’. Fortunately, James ‘the Colonel’ McWilliam turned up to bolster the Sloth ranks to a starting 8 with the promise of more to come. Difficult to imagine that this would be sufficient against a full Bathford XI, but the sky was blue, the sun was out, and Madigan was nowhere to be seen – spirits were high among the Sloth contingent.

I imagine it was a mutual decision to put the Sloths into bat to give latecomers a chance of arriving, but being late, I’ve no idea. Opening the innings was the responsibility of Nelson and Headon Snr, the latter’s groin having made a miraculous recovery since Sunday following extensive deep tissue massaging, so I am told. All started quietly – a few byes, a leave outside off, a few jogged singles, a boundary. The bowlers then started to err in line, length and footing, and extras started to push the score up more rapidly than one might have expected. A few more boundaries from Nelson and Headon – the batsmen were getting the measure of the pitch. Then, without warning, Nelson launched Muson for a mighty straight drive six over mid-on. But contention ensued as the fielders claimed that it had not cleared the boundary, and the tension rose between fielding team, the home umpire and the visiting umpire.

As Muson reprised his bowling, the first ball went for a two and Nelson was told that he was to retire at the end of the over. Most Sloths worth their salt would defend/leave the next five balls and retire with their stats intact. The admirable Nelson eschewed this vice, and played the next five deliveries like the love-child of Viv Richards and AB De Villiers – 2, 6, 6, 6, 4. The second 6 was enormous again over mid-on, and the third was into the field. To add to the extraordinary drama, the square-leg Sloth umpire called no-ball to two of those deliveries, only to be dismissed by the home umpire. Some pedantry then ensued about the regulations of cricket, the difference between ICC and MCC laws and so on and so forth – unperturbed by this side-show, Nelson strode off retired on 47, and the score ratcheting up quickly.

Nelson’s success and some very slow bowling indeed had the Sloth confidence high, and a desire to deal only in boundaries seemed to grip the lower ranks. Bond came, spanked a four and went. Hewes came, spanked a four and went. Connor came, spanked two fours and went. Lewis came, spanked a four and went. Howard just came and left. The Colonel spanked 3 fours, and went. And all the while Headon Snr pottered along sensibly and nicely at the other end, blending boundaries with well judged singles. 16 overs into proceedings and no Chairman to be seen (having texted to say he was just leaving Portsmouth at 12 minutes to 6), so Nelson went back out to rejoin his opening partner. Some better bowling had been kept back, so a more sedate pace was adopted, and by the time Nelson was bowled, there were 170 runs on the board, and 2 balls left in the 20 overs. Magnificent stuff from Nelson and Headon Snr, with extras the other significant total.

Bathford kindly donated three fielders, all of whom were not only quality fielders, but also were very animatedly sledging their own batsmen and rejoining all wicket-taking celebrations. In the face of this and an imposing total, the home side imploded not surprisingly. The Colonel opened with his military medium, and once more did the batsman with an excellent slower ball in a carbon-copy of a dismissal the day previous. However, the square-leg umpires call of no-ball this time was accepted and no wicket given. Could have gone either way, but Howard, in a statistical sub-plot, shed no tears for the unfortunate Colonel. The irrepressible opener struck back though and bowled the geezer out. Connor bowled very well for three overs, and clean bowled another. Stumpchat took a fantastic catch standing up to Matt Headon (off a full run-up) and the home side were in trouble. Howard forced another two wickets; Bonder got one out with the leg-side trap. With the game as good as up, all sorts of shenanigans going were on in the field – Howard and Hewes using the natural topography to play hide and seek; wicket keepers bowling; bowlers wicket-keeping; and pacemen attempting leg-spin. Fielding plaudits to Bonder with some fantastic stops, the Colonel back to his normal capable self in the field (although there was one crass spillage I recall…), and all fielders lent to us by Bathford, all of whom were excellent. All out for 85, the locals had been powerless in the face of the full Nelson

As the summer evening was cooling and the sun was descending, the adrenaline of victory subsided and the mood became more reflective. Why was 12 minutes insufficient for Chancellor Franks to make it from Portsmouth to Bathford? How can Ant doctor the figures to ensure that he remains top wicket taker without it being noticed? Why are groin injuries becoming so commonplace amongst the middle-aged Sloths? Where was Kev? Who cared?

Handunnettige Deepthi Priyantha Kumar Dharmasena, ICC Umpire

*(refer to Guinness match report)

Think of a Report

Having only witnessed the dying overs of what was evidently a hotly contested fixture at KES Fields on Tuesday evening, I can only imagine what had led to this tense showdown. Suffice to say that the Sloth infographic will now need to be reconfigured to allow space for the plummeting trajectory of the win/loss line.

Jonty managed to consolidate his batting average with a further duck. In fairness, Jimmy Mac, still basking in the glory of a 3-wicket maiden (yes, indeed) was not unduly exercised by the notion of backing up his main rival at the top of the bowling charts. Rick Yerbury put in an early bid for this year’s Mr Angry award, also run-out, having declared ‘I’m not bloody running everything’ before taking to the crease and remaining true to his word.

Stumpchat bullied and cajoled a succession of batting partners, taking runs where none was offered and mostly getting away with it too. Luckily, this was a moonlit fixture and Royal Oak’s strategy of providing day-glo stumps and illuminating bails helped nobody. Day-glo relies, of course, on day-light and the bails remain dark until struck, so this plan was flawed from the start. Having said that, leaving their medium-quick bowlers to the last overs was possibly not entirely within the spirit of the fixture.

Apparently, earlier in the game, one of the Royal Oak fielders had tried to catch the ball using his eyebrow and was subsequently whisked away to the RUH for emergency sitting-in-a-waiting-room. This left them two players down (another had to drive the patient), which meant overs needed to be made up. Oak’s main attack bowlers generously offered to fill the void, ensuring the 36 needed from the final 4 overs was never likely to be reached.

But there’s plenty to cheer. Chiefly, James McThingumybob’s three wickets in four balls in his first over. That’s the second 3-wicket maiden for Sloths in just three games (the other from Jonty ‘Schwartzenegger’ Frith) and moves have already been made behind the scenes to ensure James is unemployable anywhere outside the Bathampton area. Also, Johnny Fresh’s return to form with a

retirement on 25+, so too Laurie ‘not throwing’ Maylor, gives cause for cautious optimism. I’ve no idea what either innings was like but one can only imagine they were both magnificent.

Whilst three losses in three games is possibly not the ideal start to a season, all have been entertaining and eventful encounters. There have been some outstanding individual performances* and, who knows, maybe at some point Sloths will manage to deliver as a team. Just imagine…

*Speaking of performances, if you are wondering about the significance of this week’s title, take a look at this: www.thinkofasong.com (yes it’s a shameless plug but nobody pays me for this shit). See you there.

Marina Abramovic, Performance Analyst, Slothful Times