Category: 2018

Offsiders Given a Fresh Chance

The much-anticipated brush with Painter failed to matterialise as Offsiders did their best to gloss over his absence and avoid a whitewash last night at KES. Apparently, following his trip to Russia, Jim had caught a nasty dose of the Trotskys. Given his form on leaving loose stools on the outfield, perhaps this was for the best. Or was the prospect of facing-down his Sloth teammates just too daunting? (… as Putin likes to say: “When the going must get tough, the tough Moscow” …)

In the event, Offsiders managed to field eleven by calling in Danny O’s sixth-form chums. However, Sloths saw their youthfulness and raised it with a now-familiar brace of junior Friths. And what an impact the progeny of Jonty had. Samuel’s pace belied his slight frame to produce an early wicket from a straight, full ball. Harry then brought the second dismissal with a direct hit on the stumps from square of the wicket and the third, a catch from his own bowling at mid-off by – you guessed it – Frith Senior.

Later in the Offsider innings, Harry facilitated another run-out through his quick hands and accurate arm. So too Franks. Preferring not to sully his hands with a catch, he opted instead to return the ball to the bowler for an easy dismissal of the wrong-footed non-striker. Later, Franks was unable to avoid a lobbed thick edge from the bowling of Howard. Following his wicket earlier that over, this gave Howard yet another double-wicket maiden and surely makes him a contender for the Fuckworth-Lewis trophy – or, in any case, the least popular player in the team. But wait. No. That honour must surely now go to Lewis. More of which later.

Dan-O faced a barrage of abuse from his on-looking KES peers as he came on to bowl from the Paramedic End. This initially induced a couple of wides but his response was to take out the leg stump of one of Offsiders’ more threatening batsmen. And oh the sweet justice as Dan bowled a peach of a delivery to clip the bails of one of his tormentors from the next ball.

Notley took a wicket, once again, with his first ball. SDS invited all and sundry to swing across the line but never quite managed to induce the seeming inevitability of a catch. So, he too opted for the direct route, bowling somebody or other with a ball that did something or other. Or not. And so on – until no Offsider remained standing and their total had limped to a meagre 78.

Franks, in an inspired piece of captaincy, then decided it would be a wizard wheeze to generate the Sloth batting order through the power of poetry. Sadly, his sense of metre is about as good as his footwork. So, the results – though entertaining – did not necessarily scan: Frith, Frith, Frith, Dalley-Smith, Madeye, Notley, Bond. We don’t think he’ll be troubling the Nobel Literature Prize panel any time soon.

However, this provided Frith-the-Younger-Younger (Harry) an opportunity to show what he is made of. And he is made of steel. Offsiders gave no concession to Frith’s smallness of stature or tenderness of years. Instead, he faced some of the quickest bowling seen in these parts (arguably quicker than Old Ed’s much-vaunted Kit), from another of Dan-O’s compatriots. Unperturbed, Frith deployed the ‘leave’ to good effect and simply waited for friendlier deliveries, which he played with assurance and solid technique to retire, unbeaten, on 26. This surely makes Frith the youngest Sloth to retire in a 20-over game.

Offsiders were, however, causing a few problems for the Sloth batsmen. After the fall of early wickets, the run rate slowed to a near-funereal pace – until Notley, like a man possessed, took to the crease. He got off to a swift start and looked likely to score an easy 25. However, he hadn’t reckoned on facing Offsiders’ secret weapon. Freshmeat. Yes, you read that correctly. Offsiders youth policy had blown up in their faces when Dan-O’s cohorts decided it more pressing to catch a film screening than complete the game. Incredible! Not only that but they took Dan with them – Incredible 2!

So Sloths had been asked to provide a substitute fielder. Seeing who it was they had been provided with, Offsiders then took the opportunity to employ Fresh’s obvious talents as a bowler. To say this caused Notley some disgruntlement may be something of an understatement. To say he was then gratified to hit a wayward delivery to the boundary would be a serious dereliction of descriptive duty. And to say he was incensed to be dismissed next ball would be to negate one’s obligation as narrator and commentator. Let’s just say he was not best pleased. And he sent the ball once more to the boundary. Only, this time, after his wicket had been taken. He’s not been seen since.

Cue Dot-Ball-Bond to finish things off. In fairness, there were plenty of overs remaining and Bond, sensibly, wasn’t in a hurry to give up his wicket through rash impatience. Instead, he knocked-off a couple of singles, and then calmly sent the ball over the long-off boundary for the winning runs. In the end, this was an easy win but that is to take nothing away from some splendid performances, chiefly from the Frith clan (two more of whom are eagerly waiting in the wings). And Ant. And Dan –though he probably should get no credit after his disgraceful display of poor priority-setting

Questions will inevitably be asked after such an incident-laden encounter. Is it appropriate for a team short on players to bowl a substitute fielder ahead of their own men? Can a new award be instated in recognition of familial contribution (Headons vs Friths!)? And what would happen were Notley, and Gillings to be left alone in a secluded room with Lewis? And could we sell tickets?

Phil Davies, Genealogy Correspondent, Slothful Times

Frithty Bowling as Sloths Slumber

The last time Sloths and Old Eds met at the KES ground, Bathampton provided auxiliary players to make up the E-numbers. It seemed fitting, therefore, at this second joint home-fixture yesterday evening, for the favour to be returned. Indeed, Sloths were so depleted that three Friths of the team came from one family. It may be that some have taken early hibernation, whilst others were presumably busy watching grown men chase a ball around a park.

More Sloths were allegedly on the way, so it was decided Bathampton should face first and agreed that – in the absence of a full line-up – batsmen would return for a second innings where required. Old Ed’s captain further suggested the Frithlings be protected from his opening fast bowler, Kit. How much of this was gamesmanship is open to debate: whereas he was quick, Sloths have certainly faced similar pace before.

With Friths S and H thus manning the scorebook and only six players in attendance, this left the somewhat confusing situation of padded-up batsmen-in-waiting performing umpiring duties. The fall of a wicket then saw the retiring batsman remove his gloves, pass on his bat and then take up the officiating position, as the erstwhile umpire took guard.

Following the prolonged hot, dry weather, the wicket and outfield were barely distinguishable. Faster deliveries were therefore easily dispatched to the boundary, often straight through the rather optimistic slip cordon. And when the pace slowed, E’s number 12 – gamely swelling the Sloth ranks – provided a Crash course in taking on the spin, hitting five fours in one over. So too the returning Lewis, punishing everything the bowlers could throw at him and rendering the keenly backing-up Madeye obsolete with successive boundaries.

Frith Senior batted (twice) with resolve and grit. Harper cut, nurdled and drove, before an unfortunate run-out from an unlikely direct hit. Both Frith Juniors looked solid and un-phased by the bowling. And Madeye carried the bat for an un-beaten 29. However, in these conditions, the 159 runs thus posted were not insurmountable.

With ball in hand, Lewis showed devastating line and length with some pace and bounce. Frith H put on another excellent display of precision and spin, sadly not gleaning all the wickets due but hitting the stumps in lieu of dropped chances. Frith S, a little sharper of pace, was similarly effective and bowled a good spell under difficult circumstances. Sadly, however, regulars Madeye and Frith Snr were somewhat more wayward and duly punished for their sins. Es had some big hitters onboard and an early onslaught meant their meeting the Sloth total was never in doubt.

A brief appearance of Sloth Bond meant one fewer Old Ed was needed in the field for the closing stages of the game. There was, however, little reward for making such a valiant effort on an evening when he had been declared unavailable. Forgotten on the long boundary, then ushered in to see the winning runs hit from decent bowling, Mike can be forgiven for wondering why he had bothered when so many had not.

So has the prolonged heat-wave induced unseasonal slumber in hitherto spritely Sloths? Should England reach the World Cup final on Sunday, how many will be there to face those ever-bleating Rams? And what is the correct response to an offer of dregs from an Edwardian barrel of Ale?

Well… if you don’t turn out, you won’t find out!

Theresa May, Abandonment-Issues Correspondent, Slothful Times

One ton up and 13 maidens later

Not being our habitual match report writer, please excuse the poor grammar, spelling etc.
In short the “iambic pentameter” that fellow Sloths have become accustomed to, is going out the window, slambic pentameter if you will.

Sunday in Priston, soaking up the summer’s evening glow, warmed further by the smugness of victory but bemused that with figures of 3 overs, 2 wickets for 0 runs, I had been one of our worst players! Statistically it sounds like one could dine out on such a performance but it wasn’t and demands an explanation.

It all started a few years ago. Priston Cricket Club, located in the small quaint Stepford-wife-esque village, boasting excellent match teas and a half reasonable cricketing opposition. Typical stuff apart from the rather unusual “timed” element to the match. Infinitely more complicated than our own FWL, involving pavilion clocks and possible extra overs, we now understand it as more simply “if you don’t bowl us ALL out it’s a draw, unless we beat you, then its not.” When I say “now”, its taken 2-3 seasons of comprehensive victories ended in draws to reach this level of comprehension.

Seemingly slightly irked by said number of draws El Capitano was in no mood to pull punches. “We will bat, score loads and then bowl them out” he announced fearlessly.

Having “won” the toss by “mutual agreement” (bribe or threat I’m uncertain) the chancellor elected to open with Lodge and Lewis. Lewis had selflessly brought wife, children and some form of Laura Ashely wigwam to possibly house / protect them from the oncoming tedium. Lodge had promised sheep but failed to deliver. Having reminded fellow sloths and anyone else who would listen, of his ton the previous year (whilst ill) – history looked like repeating itself as Lewis quickly scored four after four. Singles only coming at the end of the over in order for Lewis to farm the strike, carefully making the singles look like miss hits. Eventually boring of his slower scoring partner Johnny opted to run Lodge out. Lodge having only scored 3 runs off the two deliveries allowed to him.

Lewis’ children were not in the aforementioned wigwam as Lodge returned forcing him to make for the pavilion where he could “quietly” voice grievance and experiment with some ad hoc interior design before buggering off to the village pub or to trash Lewis’s car. We secretly guessed the former to be the case but longed for the latter.

Back at the crease Lewis seemed spurred on by his mistake and knew he now had to score to make up for it. To be fair he tried, before being bowled by a rather mean 15-year-old. (Though he may have been 11)
McWilliams had joined him at the crease but looked increasingly flakey before he shat himself to some half decent spin and was bowled.

“There was a bowler from Priston,
Who liked to keep his wrist in
but scotsmen can’t bat
and there’s a lesson in that
they’re only good for a fist-in”

With the Scottish contingent firmly back in the camp, things could only get better. Enter Painter and McCorgi. Fresh from a duck or two, Painter need to prove and having recently lost his wicket to a girl scout from Bathford, so did McCorgi. The pair soon started dispatching balls to boundaries. Much time was spent in hedges and fields and a few replacement balls later the score was looking extremely healthy. Lodge, sorrows drowned, returned. Painter looked invincible and McCorgi looked like he was holding back little, playing himself in for a change, perhaps he had learnt from his school-girl error. What then occurred was possibly the quickest highest scoring partnership in Sloth history. Over a hundred runs in less than ten overs. McCorgi sadly got himself out reaching for a wide and was caught for 49. Happily one short of his fifty, like Lewis McCorgi’s ego needs no encouragement. Coming in to bat next, I didn’t and left soon after with Painter now on 98. “Find out what I’m on will you ?” Painter asked as I left. “Why?” I asked. “Incase I need to start smashing it about a bit.” he explained. The look on Prison players who heard this, was priceless. Subtle sledging at its best.

Sloths soon started to worry about the monster they’d unleashed at the crease. El Capitano took to a field to replace one of Priston’s injured and almost stumped him.
New comer Dan took to the crease and twice almost succeeded in running him out. El Capitano considered retiring early leaving Jim on 99. Painter went on to carry his bat, scoring 113 (we are waiting on a final recount as James Mc-ICan’t-Count was scoring). Dan managed not to run him out and partnered him to the last ball of our innings, just to annoy El Capitano who, having thought the innings over had just removed pads and gloves. Russ typically jogged to the crease, padless and gloveless to take the last delivery, which he smashed a four off, hedging the ball again just to further annoy Priston.

Sloths had scored 277 off 33 overs. First half of the plan done. Tea was served and the tea was, as predicted, excellent. 277 runs just made the cream that much sweeter.

Other Captains may have felt that such a total unassailable but not El Capitano. There would be no prisoners, McCorgi would open with the equally canny Yerbi. Two of their batsman were hardly higher than the stumps, the little buggers had bowled well and made good use of their lack of height and had earned an equal right to a good mauling. McCorgi and the Yerble “the rabid Gerbil” bowled superbly. Keeping it tight and building pressure. McCorgi starting with a maiden (worth 50 points to your FWL btw), bowled 8 overs, took 4 wickets (1 stumping) and went for 14 runs. (5 of the 8 overs being maidens). Yerbi did 7 overs for 13 runs (no wickets and 1 maiden). 15 overs later Priston had 27 off the bowling. Fresh/Stale Meat keeping wicket had allowed a few byes though (Priston’s top scorer) and their total was 36 for 4.

Priston had been blown away. McCorgi was accused of bowling too fast. (To prove he wasn’t he then bowled a few at his faster pace). El Capitano elected to ease off slightly and brought McWilliams and Lodge in, who still smouldering from his unjust run out took no time dispatching their number 6 for 0, caught behind by the Sloth who had run him out. McWilliams equally struck with his second delivery and Priston were truly reeling
Taking another wicket in his third, Jon was replaced by SDS by which time Priston had more than adopted their “typical” “home-guard” defence. With 2 wickets left the “wall” came down. 8 further overs then went down, 6 of which were maidens. Priston blocked everything, knowing they could still “draw”. Running wasn’t even considered! Bowling figures; SDS – 2 overs 5 runs, 1 maiden. El Capitano – 2 overs 5 runs, 1 maiden. Dan – 2 overs 1 run, 1 maiden. Finally myself 3 overs, two wickets and three maidens. The first a plumb LBW, no debate and the last batsman going to a prod that only just carried to a brilliant diving McWilliams, who un-typically held onto it.

El Capitano had had a plan and it had worked well. Records had been set – fastest 100 partnership, most maidens bowl, most comprehensive victory ever (204 runs and 4 wickets). The beer in the local tased sweeter. Lodge hadn’t trashed Lewis’ car. The stars of the day were undoubtedly Painter and McCorgi. McCorgi’s 8 maidens had been to their openers not their “home guard”. Yerbry had a huge part in applying equal bowling pressure and Lewis, though a complete prat had still played a part. Bathampton had scored 277 and Priston were all out for 73. (The last 6 overs of the match going for one run, Dan’s wide). The fact that their team consisted of two kids under 15 and a collection of fossils propped up by a few cricketers didn’t matter. Finally we’d won a match at Prison without any possible “draw”. As we made our way homeward I couldn’t help but think we’d also been shown that in cricketing terms, their exists something far slower at the crease than a Sloth…”

Held Catches – Beer in Batches

It was heart-warming, yesterday evening at the KES ground, to see Painter and McCauley bonding before the game, comparing the girth of their weapons. The latter had invested in an upgrade, having been disappointed with his previous tool’s performances. So, would this enhancement pay dividends?

In the event, Southstoke batted first, so we would have to wait and see. A friendly, convivial bunch, the visitors’ average age very nearly exceeded their combined runs. Batting with little concern for scoring rate, light or last orders, Southstoke were – in fairness – subjected to a sloth bowling performance of rare consistency.

For starters, McCauley scared the living crap out of their opener, who called for a helmet – before being bowled by a gentle leg-spinner. Behind the stumps, Bond played a blinder, taking a glorious catch, full stretch, from the bowling of McCauley (editorial footnote: Bond will be dining out on this for seasons to come. Dorothy – please feel free to take advantage of the George’s two for one offer to best hear all about it) and another, more straight-forward take, edged through from Howard again, bowling like the true sportsman and professional that he is. But the catch of the match was the improbable two-handed dive by Painter. Scampering backwards from fly-slip, Jim pocketed a spiralling ball that seemed to hang in the air for an age as he turned this way and that to match its trajectory.

Captain Fresh kept the fielding tight and the pressure on, as bowler after bowler delivered high quality balls. Speaking of which, Bond was reminded by McCauley’s pace that perhaps a box would be in order but resorted on this occasion to using his gloves. With humidity in the air and plenty of bounce and carry, Messrs Howard, Hewes and Fresh all asked searching questions with the swinging ball. The slower bowlers, particularly Bond Jnr, Painter and Swan, were able to find the ample rough, keeping the batsmen on their toes and runs to a minimum.

A handful of wayward deliveries were sent over the boundary but Southstoke were not the quickest between the wickets and a modest total (90) was eventually posted.

Opening the batting for Sloths, Franks – keen to monitor his team’s progress – called for a scoreboard update after the first, maiden, over. After this brief moment of circumspection (including some text-book forward defensive blocks), Franks decided there was little point in relying on Swan to back up, so sent the ball over the boundary whenever the fancy took him. Which does him a disservice; the opening Southstoke bowling was mostly pitched on the wickets and of a good length, so Franks’ quick retirement was well-earned.

As behind the bowling-arm distractions go, things reached a whole new level this week. We have previously had Morris dancing, joggers, cyclists and canal-boats full of lairy stag-weekenders. But, in an act of desperation the likes of which has never before been seen, Southstoke invoked a full-scale terror attack on the canal-side bins. This necessitated the deployment of local fire services to control the ensuing inferno. Well, there was a loud bang and some smoke anyway…

Bond Junior, seemingly under instruction from the captain, quickly ran Swan out in order to take the strike. In fairness, in spite of a backing-up technique so laid back as to be practically horizontal, Swann had – in fairness – hit some nicely judged shots to the boundary. But there were batsmen queuing up to have a go and McCauley was gagging to try out his new blade.

Having cleared the short boundary by some margin for a sweetly timed six, Bond Junior then decided he would hit everything that way. This saw him, at the canal end, racing to off and swinging back across his stumps at just about every delivery. Until, eventually, one pitched on and removed the off peg. Fresh was in usual form and looked set to add another retirement to his tally but top-edged a slower delivery for an easy catch. Painter made hay; thumping the ball with disdain (yes – you’re right – I’d stopped paying attention by this point but pretty sure he hit a few).

And finally, right on cue (cometh the hour… etc.), McCauley got to find out whether his recent club-augmentation had been justified. Apparently so. The ball flew from the genetically-enhanced meat with barely a sound and at some speed. Several times. Amusingly, it was never clear whether the winning runs were actually scored (a case of ‘they think it’s all over’). Firstly, the ball, assumed to be crossing the boundary, didn’t quite arrive and, secondly, McCauley may not have made his ground to complete the run. But Southstoke were happy to concede they had been well defeated and beat a hasty retreat to the impromptu – and very profitable – Sloth’s Arms.

Could this be a turning point in Sloth fortunes? Will Mole Swan report back to KES’s Russian paymasters? And will Sloths’ newly-nested Field Northerner stay to roost in the Bathampton environs? Stay tuned. Stay focused. Stay Sloth

Bill Oddie, Ornithology Correspondent; Slothful; Times

Missed Chances + Missing Extras = ?

After a cool start yesterday, the evening was pleasant as Sloths took to the field to bowl at a largely youthful and keen Guinness eleven. With the summer continuing mostly rain free, the pitch was bound to generate plenty of action, its surface rock hard and scarred from previous encounters. The outfield, too, would provide little resistance to the ball, so a game of incident was assured. And so it proved.

Frith generated catching opportunities immediately, which were duly avoided. Madeye, needing only take a few paces to his left to secure the first of these, proceeded to do a fair imitation of the Dying Swan, the ball dropping harmlessly to the turf, mere feet away. So, Frith resorted to clattering the stumps with a rare full toss to claim the first Guiness scalp. Later, Hewston also opted for the direct approach – as he put it ‘aiming outside off and missing’ – to take a wicket first delivery, then generating a thick outside-edge for an easy catch in his second over.

Notley overcame previous confidence issues to produce two very tidy overs, ditto Dalley-Smith, both of whom restricted what was otherwise a fulsome run-flow. In fact, the Guiness batsmen were generally more comfortable with the ball coming onto the bat, scoring consistently against quicker deliveries. Having said that, McCauley’s pace and accuracy, combined with some fierce bounce from the wicket, not only discomfited the batsmen (causing one to play-on) but left Bond bruised and battered.

Skipper Howard, magnanimously taking the final spell, very nearly pulled off a spectacular catch with the last ball of the Guinness innings. However, what he actually pulled off was several layers of skin from his knee as he flew majestically at full stretch across the adjacent concrete-hard wicket. All were full of admiration and concern, save one McCauley who observed ‘Nothing majestic about that’. We’ll make a Sloth of him yet.

All of which left the home team with a target of 156 to win. Opening the innings, Hewston and Frith – without haste but with impeccable purpose – began the fight back. Both timed the ball sweetly when the opportunity arose but, perhaps more importantly, also stole singles, twos and a remarkable number of threes wherever possible. This put pressure on the fielding side, causing numerous misfields and overthrows and raising the spectre of doubt in their minds.

Having both openers in such good form and retired gave Sloths licence to go after the ball, hitting with freedom and taking ever more risky runs. Indeed, Howard – having been given not out to a probable run-out – gave Guiness a second go a few balls later, this time stranded well short of the popping crease. McCauley characteristically struck the first ball he faced straight back down the ground past the bowler for four but was then unfortunate in chasing a wide that was well-held at deep backward point.

McWilliam swung the bat with menace, occasionally connecting with the ball and always looking to run, so too Painter. It was a peculiar quirk of the Guiness bowling that the speed of delivery was inversely proportional to the length of run up. Two bowlers, in particular, generated remarkable pace from just a couple of ambling steps, whilst a third ran in from half-way to the boundary but then stopped for a breather midway. And each proved tricky to face in his own way.

Nonetheless, aided and abetted by a steady stream of wides and no-balls (much to the chagrin of one or two of the Guiness number), the run-total built steadily towards its intended target. The cumulative effect of necessarily incautious batting and wily bowling eventually saw the return of opener Hewston. Picking-up where he left off, Hewston’s personal tally ended 52 not out – believed to be a record individual 20-over score for a Sloth. The accompanying tail-enders, meanwhile, tried valiantly to provide the boundaries required in the dying overs.

Frith, returning to the crease with just balls remaining, gave it his all but had to concede this was too big an ask. Perhaps had he known there had been a miscalculation in the score book, he may have conjured up a six from the last ball to win (or four to draw). However, the scoreboard was showing nine required and – having only managed to push a single – running the remaining eight was, even for this dynamic duo, out of the question.

So, for the second game in succession, there was little shame in defeat and all agreed this had been a memorable encounter. Even the laconic Bez, making a rare appearance on the boundary, observed that it was really ‘quite enjoyable’. Frith and Hewston, in particular, can be justly proud of their efforts and McWilliam did little to mitigate his place as ‘player Howard would most like to see the back of’. Bond was heroic as ever behind the stumps; Notley showed tremendous character and probably others deserve an honourable mention but I can’t remember who they are.

Will the Slothometer now remain pointing towards deficit or can Sloths rally to produce some deserved wins? Has McCauley infiltrated the Sloth ranks purely to drum up trade tending to knackered, middle-aged feet? Will McWilliam deliver on his promise to a) leave and give somebody else a sniff at the bowling award and b) organise a combined cricket/kayak-‘n’-curry trip to the south coast? Can it be true that Guiness’ self-commentating all-rounder is practically related to Stumpchat? And what would happen if both were on the field at the same time?

Who knows? And, frankly, who cares? This was a vintage Sloth performance; full of drama, character and a heady mix of quality/abject cricket. Let’s hope for more of the same – though, perhaps, with a different outcome next time.

Professor Stephen Hawking (deceased); Mathematics Correspondent; Slothful Times

Pink Balls but No Red Faces

Keen to make a good start to their tour, the visiting Canal Taverners wasted no time, Friday night at King Edwards, in nabbing the Sloth openers and laying siege to their meagre resources. However, a late comeback by 12th-man Franks then led to a record-breaking stand from messrs Madeye and Dalley-Smith.

Seeing off the opening partnership of Stowford and Abbey, they then laid waste to both the Italian and Scotch contingent, eventually retiring for light at 445. But enough about the drinking, onto the game…

With a glut of top-rate players, it was a natural choice for returning skipper Harper to put in Lodge to face first. Sadly, though, he couldn’t think of a batsman with whom to partner him. Having tried in vain to run Lodge out (again), Madeye was, thankfully, swiftly removed and so the innings proper could begin. Freshmeat, smarting from the indignity of having to watch this debacle from the boundary, quickly set about sending the ball back over it. And, since retirements were not in force, he threw caution to the wind and his bat at everything.

Tuesday rules having been abandoned for this Friday fixture, Taverners had the luxury of giving four overs each to their better bowlers and this proved decisive. Lodge soon went the way of Madeye, Fresh was caught off a hoisted drive and Frith Senior was dismissed playing on, before he had had a chance to get a proper look at the bowling. Hewston was controversially given out, adjudged to have gloved the ball before it glanced his pad and was well-taken down leg by the keeper.

Frith Junior made a solid start, looking tidy and compact against unrestrained bowling. Trying in vain to ignore the Taverners’ appeals for a run-out, however, the umpire was compelled to concede that the Frithling was short of the crease when the ball struck. Dan O appeared eager to echo Fresh’s disdain for the pink ball by depositing it in the canal but somehow never quite managed to time his hefty swings of the willow.

Evetts looked vulnerable when he first reached the middle but steered some nicely-judged sweeps and nicks to the boundary. Dalley-Smith then showed tremendous purpose in hitting the ball with uncharacteristic urgency, providing some invaluable late runs. However, Sloths had been well-contained and the score fell short of three figured at the end of twenty overs.

One might, then, expect a dispirited fielding Sloth side to leak runs and lose heart. This was far from the case. In fact, the home team put on a fine display of bowling and fielding. Lewis gave the openers plenty to think about, relishing the extended spell and the opportunity to bring in variation of speed, line and length this provided. Lodge generated several mis-timed shots that came close to providing catching chances and implored the umpire to give LBW for his first delivery.

Frith Junior was entirely un-fazed by the task of bowling late in the innings to batsmen with their eye in and discomfited them with his slower pace and accurate flight. Dan O, however, was the bowler that caused the most damage, taking three wickets and shaking the otherwise stolid Taverners’ resolve. Fielding at mid-off, Evetts comfortably held onto a catch when it came his way and Harper, behind the stumps for the first time in many a moon, was tidy and secure.

This was a spirited and impressive defence of a lowly run count. However, when it came down to it, that total was just too low. There was a time when it looked as though Sloths may pull off the most improbable of upsets but Taverners had fielded a strong side, knowing that on their previous two visits they had been well beaten at Bathampton. Capitulating as they did on this occasion, there was certainly no shame in defeat for the hosts.

So where does this leave Sloths for the season? Without recourse to any kind of factual information (why start now?) this correspondent would estimate that honours are pretty even. Questions, as ever, remain – such as: had the Taverners’ bowler actually managed to take a catch using his genitals, how would that be logged in the score book? Will KES ever re-stock the bar? And where is shirt?

Vivian Stanshall, non-sequitur correspondent, Slothful Times

E’s Are Good (But Sloths Are Better)

It can be a sorry sight to behold, when a trail of Sloth batsmen returns to the clubhouse in quick succession of a Tuesday evening. Only, on this occasion, the exodus was brought about by said Sloths each passing 25 and retiring. When viewed from the fielding Old Edwardian’s team perspective, this was actually quite alarming.

The recently re-laid track and dry weather ensured the ball was coming onto the bat sweetly, then racing to the boundary when firmly struck. In particular, newly-recruited (nicked from St Johns) Paul-the-other-one McCauley, demonstrated this with ease, stating after the game that, actually, he is ‘not a batsman’. He could have fooled us – and can we have our ball back please?

Howard, consolidating his opener status, retired also – aided and abetted by some wayward deliveries, with which he may or may not have connected before they bypassed the wicketkeeper. Bonds junior and senior both enjoyed freedom to swing across the line, Cam picking up several sixes in the process. In fact, it would be easier to mention those that did not retire, such was the consistent high-scoring. But that would be cruel. Oh, OK then… Painter was, I believe, caught by the athletic all-rounder ‘Kit’; Hewes played-on to a peach of a delivery from somebody or other…

Beyond that, it’s all a bit of a blur. Suffice to say that runs were scored in abundance, with the visitors fielding a skeleton team of just ten men (more accurately – nine men and a boy; OK – eight men, one boy and a Sloth). Hopefully, Ant will be able to furnish the web site with a copy of the score book, so each can marvel at his achievements. Pity whoever is responsible for keeping the F-L stats in order: this is going to be a season of broken records by the bucket-load.

To wit, Sloths finished with what is believed to be a record 20-over innings score of 181. Yes. One hundred and eighty-one! Unbeatable, surely? Well, yes. If ever words were to be eaten, they must clearly be those of the visiting captain, electing to bat second and announcing ‘It’s OK, we’ve got some proper batsmen and will beat whatever they can score’. Chairman Franks assures me this was said in irony – though it sounded sincere at the time.

Old Eds did, indeed have some proper batsmen. However, Sloths also had some proper bowlers. Paul ‘No. 10’ McCauley, for one, asked some serious questions, gaining at least one serious answer in the form of a wicket. Headon was, once again, full of fire and purpose, huffing-in from the Paramedic end. Hewes also knocked over the stumps, with a delivery intended for Madeye (who had contrived to be at the other end – moonlighting, as he was, for Old E’s).

Notley, coming in like a man with a grudge to settle, took a wicket with his first ball, before proceeding to set a record for the longest two-over spell in Sloth history. Headon took a terrific catch, early on, to remove one of E’s recognised batsmen. Cawley Junior made the run-chase hard work. As did Howard. And so on. And so on.

Needless to say, E’s fell some way short of the target. However, this was a spirited performance form an under-staffed and overwhelmed opposition, who manfully managed to sink a couple of bottled beers in their own under-stocked and over-rated bar before heading home to lick their collective wounds.

So, is this winning streak set to continue? Will we see the return of much-missed Sloth Harper? Will protective headwear become compulsory for passing canal-boaters? And what are our views on private education? (Let’s not dwell on the details of our privileged status as a village cricket team with a pitch to die for, eh?). Those seeking answers to the above should declare their availability early, as team places are increasingly at a premium. Except – of course – Harper, who is guaranteed a game any time.

Damien Hinds, education correspondent, Slothfull Times

Captain Fresh Steers Sloths Home

A week without rain meant the KES strip was flat and firm for yesterday’s home fixture with old adversaries Hampset. The outfield was similarly dry and, correspondingly, fast. So, would a score of 141 be sufficient to enforce a second Sloth win?

The already familiar combination of Painter and Notley set the tone, always looking to hit to the boundary but this time also keen to run whenever possible. Painter, now reassured his back can withstand the stresses of swinging the bat, did so with abandon, retiring once again in short order. Notley tried to emulate this but was perhaps a little over keen, falling – after playing the quicker stuff with good soft hands – to a straight delivery. Similarly, Hewes’s innings was short-lived; his removal ushering-in the enticing prospect of Bonds senior and junior at the crease together.

It was interesting to observe the familial snubbing of foot movement in favour of hefty brute force. In this case, it was junior who had the edge, in terms of hitting boundaries to both sides of the wicket. However, both had the edge in finding the edge, squeezing improbable runs from near-dismissals but remaining unperturbed. Cam blasted on, retiring undefeated, to make way for chief-irritant Freshmeat.

Johnny was tested by some intermittently threatening bowling but, as ever, ensured the scoreboard wasn’t allowed to idle. Looking pretty much invincible these days, Fresh drove, cut and steered the ball through every chink in the Hampset defence. It was similarly good to see the return of another familiar face in the shape of Matt Cawley. Taking a couple of balls to settle, Cawley remained watchful and composed; displaying terrific hand-eye coordination and great instinct for punishing the bad ball.

Headon, once again, looked as though he could – at any moment – break loose and clatter everything for six but, perhaps aware that few balls remained, didn’t quite find his rhythm. He did, however, have the good sense to run the final delivery, in spite of the fact the ball remained at facing-batsman Reynolds(?)’ feet. Sadly, Matt H. had not taken the trouble to let Matt R. know – and he (R) was left stranded as the inevitable run-out was administered.

Having seen an insurmountable target of 159 – um – surmounted just two weeks previously, Sloths were not complacent as they took up their fielding positions. Fortunately, in Fresh, they had a captain who actually understands fielding positions. Plus some pretty tidy bowlers.

Heedon, now finding the rhythm that had eluded him with the bat, quickly established that run-scoring was not going to be a simple matter for Hampset’s openers. Then Bond junior bamboozled from the other end, producing sufficient flight to ensure that batsmen looking to hit on the full mis-timed and procured a succession of deftly-held catches (notably from Hewes and Dally-Smith). Painter, meanwhile, took a more direct approach, hitting the stumps 3 times in one over, the first of which cut-back exquisitely from the dry turf.

One or two of Hampset’s middle order did manage to scatter the fielders to the boundary, lofting fours and sixes that always promised the potential for more catches. However, captain Fresh never allowed his men to languish in the deep and maintained the pressure throughout. Hewes was generous in tempering his pace for the tale-enders but nonetheless removed two of their wickets.

Leaving Reynolds to deliver the final blow, bowling Hampset’s last man round the legs, which is always satisfying for the bowler – less so for the man dismissed.

And that was that. Another win. And well-deserved, too. Not especially funny. Not even particularly interesting, really. But satisfying all the same.
Can Sloths maintain this winning form? Will KES ever re-stock the bar? Will Notley move into the parish? What will Cawley do to fill the summer’s Glastonbury-free void? And… where was Ed?

Horatio Hornblower; nautical correspondent; Slothful Times

Sloths Teas-Out a Win!

Sunday at Prior Park saw a new encounter for Sloths, facilitated – I believe – by our ecumenical mole, agent Frith. In spite of a characteristically slow take-up of team places, Sloths managed to field 11, whilst the home team struggled (presumably due to a higher calling) to fill their ranks. However, this was a good-natured and ultimately hard-fought game. And the tea was borderline-Pristonesque in both quality and abundance.

Back from a 15-year absence from the fair game – having transferred to softball and had reconstructive shoulder surgery – Johnny fresher-than-Freshmeat proved an excellent find. Bowling accurately and with pace and movement, as well as taking catches for both teams, one wonders whether he is – in fact – Sloth material at all. Talking of softball: Bond this week decided to use his gloves throughout his wicketkeeping stint, deferring the midriff fielding duties to Chairman Franks, hanging loose at silly mid-off.

Howard would have a had a wicket in his first over, had it not been for Madeye enthusiastically setting off in the wrong direction. However, he soon made the breakthrough, taking wickets aplenty for runs a-few (no – not seen the scorebook at all). Hewston had a tidy opening spell, testing the openers with flight and turn and Hewes swung the ball consistently, to the extent he was wided more than once with a ball that was originally heading for middle. He, too, took wickets of an indeterminate quantity for a, presumably, modest quantity of runs.

Lodge, having hit the wickets early on in his spell, later decided that dropping the ball short for batsmen who invariably hit to leg would elicit catches, provided Hewston was somewhere within that half of the field. Which worked. Again. And again. Credit to Hewston for holding said catches, most of which would have eluded the majority of Sloths (well, this one anyway).

With five overs remaining of St Johns’ innings, the home side had been confined to a score that would look more at home within a 20-over game. But, with their numbers depleted, St Johns’ openers were able to return for a second bite of the polo-mint-shiny (on one side) cherry. Now with eyes very much in, they only had these for one thing: the boundary. And this, suddenly, appeared to have become a lot smaller.

Said eyes then fairly popped out of the captain’s head when he spied lofted slow bowling coming his way in the final over. Suffice to say that a squadron of players’ offspring had to be deployed in order to retrieve successive balls from beyond the chain-link of adjacent tennis courts. And, all of a sudden, St Johns’ total had accelerated to 174 from 30 overs. Which left the visitors somewhat shell-shocked and disorientated as they consoled themselves with sandwiches and cakes, which were – of course – heavenly.

Not only did the home skipper provide a final batting display the likes of which have not been seen by this correspondent since watching Sir Garfield Sobers in the 1970s but he also opened the bowling, kept wicket, umpired and – quite possibly – made the teas, ran the score-book and serviced the team’s womenfolk too. In fairness, he did sportingly remove himself from the bowling attack after just two searching overs, which saw Lodge pinned to one end, with Barnes gratefully observing from the other. However, Lodge was enjoying the tussle so much, he invited St John-The-Skipper to resume a few overs later, which he did.

Barnes’ return to the Sloths’ top order was very welcome. Batting with patience and determination, he disdainfully dismissed anything at all short or wide – or, indeed, over-pitched – to the cover boundary, before top-edging to point just short of his 50. Lodge, too, made a purposeful start but failed to convert this into quite so big a score.

Howard then assumed the Freshmeat role, harrying and hustling to maintain the run-rate in characteristic kamikaze style. Luckily, he was partnered by Hewston, who – possibly still smarting from the pasting in his final over of bowling (oops, wasn’t going to mention that…) – is never one to settle for one when three will do. Not only that but he went on to build a commanding innings, full of flare and technical savvy. In stark contrast, then, it was a joy to witness Reynolds (?) and Bond continue in slightly more cavalier but nonetheless effective style.

At one point, with Bond reluctant to emulate the Howard-Hewston sprintathon, it looked as though Sloths might just manage to engineer another defeat. Indeed, Hewes – padded-up and raring to go – had to be physically restrained as he looked-on with hunger and dismay. However, Mr Bond knew he had overs to spare, combined with the sheer bloody-mindedness to send anything wayward to whichever boundary came to view. And Sloths – finally – prevailed.

Now that Sloths have tasted victory (, a delicious egg & cress sarny, some crisps, a flapjack and a chocolate brownie), will they be able to now build a winning streak? Will Johnny-fresher-than persuade his better half that his softball should be augmented by a harder one? Could St John-the-Skipper by another Sloth in waiting? And where the hell are my glasses…?

These and other questions are sure to be ignored as the season progresses. Roll-on Hampset! Press-on Guiness. Under-arm-spray Ram. Er… sorry; it’s been a long weekend.

Mary Berry, Food Correspondent, Slothful Times

Editorial note: Lodge bowled two overs, took four wickets and went for one run.

Rooted Oak Wood Knot Leave

What a glorious sight it was to behold, yesterday evening in near-perfect conditions, to see men in whites limbering up, practising their catching and mentally preparing before another encounter at the majestic KES fields. Just a shame that none of them was a Sloth. Indeed, come six o’clock, the home side could barely muster a captain. Fortunately, though, they did have a tosser on hand to perform the pre-match duties. This turned out to be a mere formality, though, as only Royal Oak had sufficient players to man the field, which they duly did.

Stepping into the captaincy breach, Howard took it upon himself to elect Madeye and Bonder to open the batting. In fairness, these were the only two Sloths besides himself in attendance at that point, and he was needed to manipulate the scorebook. Predictably, the scoring began at a relatively sedate pace but was nonetheless steady enough. And by the time Bond laid down his sword, there were teammates waiting and ready to pick up the pace.

With the pitch sure and steady, following KES’s recent loam-improvements, and the outfield swift, runs began to accrue. And continue to accrue. Hewes, showing his usual distain for what was generally accurate bowling, swung the bat with gleeful abandon. Lewis dashed off yet another 25-plus to make up the Madeye-induced shortfall. Macca took delight in finding the short boundary. Newbie Tom overcame his initial frustrations at not quite timing shots by proceeding to hoist two sixes, one of which was duly ignored by scorer Howard. And Frith almost ran himself to an early grave (which, fortunately, he has conveniently located nearby) as he cut, drove and backed up like a man possessed (…).

All of which took Sloths to a dizzying score of 159. Yes, you read that correctly: one hundred and fifty nine. Unassailable, of course. Even in these conditions. Of course. So, I think we’ll leave it there. Thanks for reading.

But no. You want, naturally, to hear the rest of the detail. Of Hewes’ glorious first-ball wicket. Of Frith’s equally glorious – nay heavenly – first-ball wicket. Of the sound of leather on poly-carbonate as Bond proved he was finally wearing a box. Of Liam’s flight and guile as he pinned-down Oak’s opening duo.

Of Tom’s heroic bowling come-back, practically delivering a maiden in his first competitive over in 15 years. Of Macca’s consistently threatening accuracy.
Well, all of that happened and was magnificent, following – as it did – such a gratifying display of fine batsmanship.

Yet, somehow, Royal Oak managed to reach and, indeed, exceed the total required for them to steal victory. Nobody quite knows how this came to pass but pass it did. Sloths bowled well, fielding was by-and-large tight and energetic. Bond was unflappable behind the stumps, saving many a run through sheer balls. And, having failed to distract the batsmen with a display of country dancing last week, Sloths this time had an entire football team moving behind the bowler’s arm. But to no avail.

The Oaks remained mighty. They had four retirees and even their flakier batsmen managed to hit boundaries from what were actually decent deliveries. In the final over, and with a predictable flourish, a four was firmly struck to bring the visitors’ total to (whisper it… very quietly) 162.

So, all in all, this was a game for the connoisseur. It had a little bit of everything. Just not the win Sloth’s had anticipated. Though a little dejected in the clubhouse afterwards, the home side had to concede they were simply out-gunned. Individually, there were some fine performances and team morale was good on the pitch. As a wise, crisp-munching, man once nearly said: “Cricket is a simple game: twenty-two men throw around a ball for 40 overs and, at the end, Sloths always lose.”

For (near-) factual information, please refer to the score card. No doubt Captain Howard will provide a copy of same at the web site we all frequent with such regularity.

As ever, questions will be asked. Should spectators of football matches on the far pitch be required to wear head protection? Are visiting players actually allowed to perform circus skills in order to retrieve a lost ball? Is it appropriate for the opposing captain to give a warning when a senior Sloth is backing up? And how the f**k did we lose THAT????!!!!

No doubt, all these and more will be answered as Sloths build on what has been a characterful and [insert your own euphemism here] start to the season. Go Sloths!

Douglas Adams, Professor of Improbability, Slothful Times