Category: 2019

Hard to Stomach? Not Really

Steaming in from the Beckford End, McCauley – vice to Stump’s cap’n – was pure poetry in motion, yesterday afternoon at a sultry Lansdowne cricket club. The Sloth’s away fixture was to the Star, following their no-show earlier in the season. Sadly, for the visitors, this had replaced what would have been a league fixture for their hosts. So, the Star’s team was not at the usual extra-thirds level to which Bathampton is more accustomed.

Nonetheless, together with Frith S, MC managed to both restrict the runs and take early wickets. The first of these fell to that rarest of beasts, a held slip catch. Momentarily forgetting he had no gloves on, Bond also forgot to take evasive action. Before he knew what had hit him, the ball was lodged in his mits (or lack thereof). In fairness, this was a hell of a catch, low to the ground and at pace.

An undue amount of respect was also afforded Howard, provided he pitched the ball outside the off stump. Sadly, both for him and Sloths in general, when he failed to do this, the batsmen gleefully swatted the ball to the boundary. He too took a wicket, which was almost disallowed due to the umpire-befuddling swiftness of Stump’s reactions. At first, it was thought Stu had removed the bails but all concurred that the ball had, indeed, struck the wickets unaided.

By the 20-over drinks break, things were fairly evenly poised. However, the batsmen were now beginning to settle in. One in particular. Then, faced with a Madeye melt-down, he and his partner began to make hay. In fact, despite McCauley’s exhortations to retire, he not only made hay, he also knocked up some sileage and re-thatched a small village, scoring well in excess of 100 runs.

Frith H showed maturity and resolve in floating the ball to stem the flow. Franks, then – of course – took this a step further, using such flight as to temporarily halt in-bound traffic to Bristol Airport. And the runs piled up. Paul ‘you’ve-got-to-have’ Haith bravely essayed his flat-arm, leftie, slow bowling, sometimes to good effect and securing a vital wicket. But the (privately-funded electronic) scoreboard kept ticking and the run-tally kept mounting.

With a total in excess of 270 to reach, Sloths were heartened by a flurry of raindrops during the tea interval. Sadly, though, these soon passed and it seemed they would have to do things the hard way. Amusingly, oppo reported to Chairman Franks, during the break, that their players had been worried as they were ‘bowler-heavy’. Yikes!

Cue pace, accuracy, swing and a strong argument for Sloths’ mooted investment in protective head-wear. Having said that, the pitch was well-behaved, so too the bowlers. And openers Bond and Franks did a terrific job of keeping the strike attack at bay. With pace on the ball, once these two had their eye in, any kind of connection was apt to elicit runs. So, as with the bowling, the Sloths innings began rather well.

But then came the deluge. Sadly, this was not the hoped-for downpour to hasten a retreat to a local hostelry. No. This was a litany of mis-timed shots, held catches and removed bails. I’ll spare you the details but McCauley did affect a second temporary halt to in-bound air traffic. Top edging a ball that he would ordinarily have sent crashing into the sight screen, MC was less than pleased to see this safely pouched.

With Barnes having been quickly removed, this left Stu to steady the ship and attempt to build some sort of response. In truth, it was probably already too late. However, Stu was taking his responsibilities seriously. He’d even put himself on to bowl at the end of the Star’s innings and to good effect. Now with the bat, Stump played his characteristic straight drives but also supplemented these with some more expansive cuts, sweeps and pulls.

Friths S and H both batted with resolve and solid technique. And Haith put in an excellent stint, massacring his previous personal best score, playing a solid, watchful and creative innings. In the end, these were the ‘positives’ that cliché dictates we should take from such a drubbing. At the end of the day, going forward, when all is said and done, etc. Sloths lost. Handsomely. To a far superior side. In which there is no shame.

But weren’t the teas good? Fresh roles, fresh tomatoes, cake, crisps and – wait for it… curry! This may not be a fixture everyone will be queuing up for in the near future. But if we have to lose, it may as well be on a full stomach.

Egon Ronay, Culinary Correspondent, Slothful Times   

Dads, Debuts and Doombar

With watchful eyes turned skywards, the eagerly anticipated Sloths Dads match began under grey skies, on a covered and excellently prepared wicket.

The Dads fielding a full team won the toss and took the field, many coaxing the memories of bowling back into limbs and muscles that had not rotated in many summers.

Dads captain Harding and Batsman Barnes took the new ball whilst Sloths Stump and Kestrel scratched out their guards. Finding the pitch very responsive to village medium fast bowling Stump and Kes battled through the first 4 overs scoring just 15.

Debutant Dibley and returning Dad Maloney continued to make scoring runs hard work for Stump and Kestrel, 8 overs gone and only 47 scored. With massed ranks of The Sloths gathered on boundary egging on the batsmen, Stump started to find his form with the bat retiring in the 9th over.

With runs hard still hard to find Debutant Mills and return Dad Edwards set about the sloth batting, first victim was Kestrel, looking to press on, a vicious straight drive was bravely parried by bowler Edwards giving Harding an easy catch at mid on. Haith then followed as Edwards deceived him with some flight and guile.

Sloth Debutant ‘Mad Jock’ Harrison strode to the crease (cricket debut at 55) ready to take on all comers, well coached by Bond and umpire Stump, Harrison edged and scampered to a respectable 7 before being bowled.

The Dads bowling continued to thwart the Sloths scoring, Bond sliced and cut his way to 15, Franks tried to push the rate but fell to a sharp stumping for 7 and Harper succumbed to more magic from Edwards. Notley was last man out for 3. Edwards finished with 5 wickets, Dibley and Mills with 1 each. 103 the target set thanks to a decent bowling effort and committed fielding.

Starting the chase the Dads sent out Gordon and Boreham, Gordon looking to erase the duck of his previous outing and Boreham on Dads debut.

The Kestrel opened up and a watchful few balls from Boreham was followed by a first ball boundary from Gordon, and thus the tone of the chase was set. Kestrel and Yerbury struggles to contain the watchful Boreham and free hitting Gordon. 4 overs completed and the Dads were ahead of the rate (20 from 4).

Bond and Harper took overs 4-8 and Boreham and Gordon took on the short boundary and found it 9 times in 4 overs. Gordon raced to 33 before retiring, Boreham quickly reached 25 and fell to a sharp chance snaffled by Stump of the bowing of Harper.

Despite both openers departing the Dads had raced to 66-1 by the end of the 8th. Stump then turned to full all rounder by taking the bowing and if we are being honest, his game took a downward turn, ultimately conceding 20 runs off his 2.4 overs and a howler of an over through affording Maloney 5 runs and severely denting bowler Franks’ numbers.

The Dads batsmen Davis and Barnes tried to keep up the blistering run rate, Davis bowled by nelson for 4 and a trophy wicket for Franks as he was able to deceive Barnes with flight.

Maloney and Lewis took up the batting and dealing mostly in boundaries (and the odd over throw for 5), raced the score towards the victory target, Maloney (15no) and Lewis (14no) saw the Dads over the line in 12.4 overs and in doing so sealed a rumoured second only victory in this most keenly awaited contest.

When all was done the doombars were downed, drowning the sorrows of defeat and growing the satisfaction of victory. A good game played in the right sprit. Till next Summer……..

P.T.F.E sloth, heating corespondent, slothful times.

SHOCK AT GLASS HOUSE AS FATHER PULLS OFF SON

Thursday, GlassHouse pitch, Combe Down side of Bath 6pm, 10 Bear Flat Dads and 3 Sloths. Admittedly one of the Bear Flat Dad’s must have set a paternity record being only 12 but who am I to judge?

As Sloths slowly emerged it looked like we’d have nearly a full team. Borrowing a few BFD’s for fielders until the slacker Sloths made it. Nelson even found the correct ground. Fresh brought along Laurie, who at 9, I believe sets another record as youngest Sloth to play for Bathampton in a full game.

Johnny Fresh was elected captain and having lost the toss took to the field. Howard (4 for 2) opened the bowling with three crap deliveries, severely testing the fielders who managed well, before he found a good ball dispatching their opener. Liam Heeden (8 for 0) opened from the other end and kept it tight. Howard finished his two taking the 12-year-old dad with a simple caught and bowled. Luc Golden Horcux-i-locks (8 for 2) then continued the pressure taking a couple more wickts for only eight runs. El Capitano (8 for 0) himself partnering with a tight two. Lodge (3 for 0!) with buddy Adrian (12 for 1). Dan (10 for 1) and young Laurie (10 for 0) bowled well before Freshmeat (4 for 2) and Stump chat (3 for 0!) put the lid on it – though to be fair BFD were down to their last wickets.

A look at the score book adds further confusion as we seem to be missing a wicket and though the bowling figures were good, extras must have been large as their total came to 86. Which if the scorer is to be trusted must have been 20 byes? As wides would have shown in the bowling figures. If this is the case – shame on you Stu. Can you try harder next time?

It has to be said Captain Fresh, seemed to have done well. Being the only Sloth captain to actually place fielders does help and either by luck or dark magic, Fresh’s placements proved canny and often correct.

As with all things Sloth however, it is and never will be, that simple. Fresh decided to reverse the batting order to spice things up. Opening with Dan and Liam, with Howard and Goldi-Luc-ing Horcux in the wings.

Good bowling does what it does and in no time at all Liam found himself partnering with Adrian (our number five). It was in the ninth over that the Sloth hit their first boundary (Adrain nice drive for a 4) taking the score to a pitiful 32! Chasing a remarkably low total the Sloths seemed to be doing their best not to snatch a defeat from jaws of victory, they seemed determined to drag defeat from the bowls of victory, and drag it very very slowly.

Twas then that Fresh, with anus constricting, brought out the bug guns. Stump chat padded up. Russ was recalled from umpire duty. Lodge and Fresh padded too. Young Laurie, who had been promised a bat by his dad, was without much explanation dropped down the order. To bring on a 9 year old at such a critical moment would have proved too much and Jonny’s anus certainly couldn’t take further constriction.

Again Fresh’s captaincy proved perfect – with Stump chat blasting a quick 26 off 18. Having punted defeat back down the bowls and with anus restoring to normal dimensions, Fresh decided he would risk the young Laurie. Who took to the crease. The brave lad stood little higher than the stumps. A full toss hitting mid way up the wicket would, by the laws of the game be a no ball! Laurie did well and survived the over but failed to score (his bat was about a third the size of his dads, WTF do you expect?!!). Fresh, with anus now resuming it’s constriction than pulled off his son. It was disgusting to watch, sloths objected to the abuse but Fresh seemed oblivious. Having captained so well in every aspect, had his inability to allow us to extract a decent defeat driven him insane? Was this some paternal “watch how its done son”? A young, deject Laurie could only watch through, eye’s now welling with the tears of rejection. His father not there to comfort him but rather taking to field to show him how to do it, or not as he was bowled rather karmically  in three balls, scoring just two.

In an effort to right the wrong the Sloth pack then collectively decided to re-instate the young Laurie. An argument was made that having been retired he couldn’t return. This was countered however, by the fact that he had in fact, retired hurt (hurt feelings) and now feeling much better, wanted another knock. Partnering up with Bonder the two sloths decided to make a game of it. Scoring at almost a run per over the last five overs saw Fresh’s anus re-constrict so painfully that he was now reduced to running in ever decreasing circles, pitch side like a demented headless chicken. Laurie was eventually run out in the penultimate over, having scored a couple (the same as his father now called “Captain Abraham Meat”). Russ went out to finish the job. With darkening clouds approaching the last over proved as dramatic an ending to a game as ever.

Off the pitch the young “Issac” Laurie and “Abraham” Fresh seemed to be locked in a Jedi “I am your father Luke” / “fuck off you cunt” sort of thing (though he’s far too young and nice to vocalise as such – we are all fairly certain he thought it). At the crease Bonder refused to score. Russ too, only managed a single. The scorers became locked in debate over totals and eventually to settle the match Dan O, as umpire decided enough was enough and that if we couldn’t win by bat or ball then a wide would do the job, last ball of the match as well, nice one Dan. Defeat had dribbled back down the esophagus of victory by the smallest margin.

Man of the match? Too many candidates; Stump Chat, the scorer, the umpire, the captain? Lad of the match, there’s no doubt. Hats off to young Laurie for doing so well and those not applauding the braveness and his ability must surely sympathise with his having to put up with such paternal abuse. Nice one Fresh, don’t simply sacrifice the lad. Tease him a bit and then pull him off, even Abraham didn’t go that far…

Questions:

  • Did Fresh’s anal constriction save him? Or did Laurie manage to shove his but up (it was a very small bat)?
  • Do we have anyone basic math ability able to score?
  • Does Dan know what those blue lines near the crease mean?
  • Can match reports ever attain a quadruple negative?

THE FIVE LOAVES AND 3 PIES

Slightly disappointed to find that our normal correspondent was engaged with or receiving a Brazilian at Pilton instead of chronicling the Sloths attempts to get the better of the Lord’s chosen 11 last Sunday

Well – here is a brief resume of what turned out to be a clear message to the unbelievers. Yes we lost.

However before giving that away, here are a few highlights. First we were dismissed to the far pitch and garden shed pavilion. Bonder was seen planting boundary flags with his customary scowl at all arriving late and with lack of tea (see later)

After some discussion, we batted first. I think Fresh was captain. Not sure whether this was ordained or whether we actually won something. Matters not, let’s say that any dodgy decisions were with him. To be honest what followed was not brilliant save for Painter J who starred with the bat including running out Bonder. Mike called a run that was not his to call and found himself able to exchange a few words with Jim as they were found to both be at the same crease. Much muttering followed along with further wickets. It looked like the cunning plan was working with wickets tumbling to Paul Mac who had elected to play on the side of the righteous. Jim, having been retired at 50, continued to flex his muscles in readiness to come in at the end and smash the ball to every boundary. All was well in the world

Well it was a plan, Yerbury came in last man with that plan in hand, immediately ran out his partner to bring in Painter to the rescue who hit 2 swift boundaries before Yerbury gave a comfortable catch to square leg. Twat! 121 runs only on the board

And so to tea and the feeding of the 5,000. Well suffice to say Sloths underperformed again, this time with limited offerings and quite a few turning up with nothing to share. (Bonder – fuming again). Quite right the youngest from both teams filled their plates leaving the crumbs for their elders. I will say that Sloth man of the match, Painter J did contribute some dainty if clumsily constructed cheese and pickle rolls which saved the day.

Back to the pitch. Redemption could be had if the promising batting line up could be fooled into submission. Gamesmanship seemed in the air with Paul and Bonder exchanging some words. Something from the new testament? Fresh opened with some pretty loose deliveries before gaining line and length in his last over taking a key wicket. Despite a tight session from Yerbury including a wicket maiden and encouraging effort from Wilf Warren, which gave some limited hope, the inevitable end was secured by Paul Mac smacking the ball to the boundary. (Editor – Do we sanction him for this performance with bat and ball?)

Moral of this tale dear sloths – the sun shines on the righteous. particularly if there is insufficient tea

Timothy Saga St John (retd)

 

New Blood – Old Feuds

It was a heart-warming sight, yesterday evening, to witness the arrival of Sloth Glastonbury refugees. In scenes reminiscent of the Calais Jungle, they dragged their tired and broken limbs to the safe haven that is Sloth HQ. All appeared to have survived the various ordeals and challenges of the Pilton tour. These included (but were by no means restricted to) the partaking of D’Pipe’s nasal spray and sampling of an unidentified brown liquid. We can only hope the latter was Coke, as a mushroom-tea sponsorship could be complicated. Sadly, however, Cawley was still nowhere to be seen.

Double-agent Painter – always a welcome presence – was, on this occasion, here to represent the opposition, Offsiders. Painter clearly had divided loyalties. Hitting a commanding 25 in short order, he later dropped a catch and missed a run-out in the same ball. Also, on the missed-chances front, Howard was so distracted preparing Madeye and Gordon for a probable nick-through from Yerbury’s bowling, that he wasn’t ready to hold-on to the ensuing prod to short mid-off.

Horcrux was kept busy on the short boundary, often left to marshal half the field alone. He was berated by McCauley for sliding, instead of taking the ball one-handed and throwing-in in one motion. Luc, however, had the presence of mind to realise he was not playing international cricket and put safety first. He probably saved a good 20 runs and took a fine catch from a lofted full toss. Meanwhile, on the opposite, long boundary, Fresh – having divested himself of offspring – took a magnificent catch on the run at deep extra cover.

Tom McBoatface both opened and closed the bowling from the top end, almost concluding with a hat trick in his final over. Almost. Plaudits also to Fresh for sticking to his line and length, tumbling the wickets after several probable LBWs went by.

In the absence of Stumpchat, it was great to have another recognised wicket keeper available, in newbie James Cordon. Evidently released from interviewing duties, James had proved his worth in the Dads game and was quickly recruited to the Sloth ranks. However, he was relegated to the field and not given a bowl. No idea why. Ask the skipper.

But no matter, Cordon (oh, ‘Gordon’? – sorry, I thought he’d lost weight…) opened the batting and was thus able to show his true worth. As Notley opened his account with consecutive fours, Gordon asked the umpire at the non-striker’s end if he is always like this. ‘Not really’ came the reply. Tom was clean bowled next ball. Fresh was similarly eager to get things moving but also dismissed by a quick, full, ball that barely left the turf. Luc followed suit. So, it fell to McCauley to help Gordon build an innings.

And build they did. With both players timing their shots sweetly, they could happily pick off the singles between magnificent boundaries to keep the score ticking over. Probably the shot of the match came from McCauley: a Stumpchat-esque back-foot drive straight past the bowler, up the hill, for four. When Offsiders reintroduced one of their more intimidating strike bowlers, later in the innings, it looked as though things may take a turn. However, he over-pitched consecutive balls and these were swatted away for two sixes and a four.

Whilst Sloths had been well on target to reach the required 115 runs, they did falter somewhat towards the end. Bond’s refusal to run between the wickets led to McCauley all but self-combusting as the run rate slowed. However, Bond was simply waiting for the bad ball, which he duly dispatched to the boundary. Wickets continued to fall but both McCauley and Gordon were retired and available, if required, to finish things off.

So, did Sloths end the innings in a blaze of glory? No. Of course not. They won the game with a whimper, largely through the wide deliveries and bves of Offsiders’ lower-order bowling. So embarrassed was umpire Notley, on realising he had awarded a wide to provide the winning score, that he tried to rescind his decision. There followed an awkward hiatus. The scorer was poised with pen above paper to mark off the final run. The scoreboard operator was hovering with the remaining digit in hand. And the players looked-on, to see whether this was, indeed, the end.

It was. And, to be honest, nobody was really surprised. The damage had been done much earlier by Sloth bowlers and fielders, restricting some strong Offsider batsmen to a modest score. Coupled with the solid platform of Gordon and McCauley’s batting, Sloths would have done very poorly indeed not to secure the win. But stranger things have happened.

After the game, players were happy to help finish off left-overs from a KES jolly in the pavilion. This had spilled-over to enhance the atmosphere with a lubricated balcony full of captive spectators. One pink-shirted onlooker, apparently taking a shine to McCauley, had observed ‘Oh, he looks like me!’. To which Paul’s inevitable response was ‘In your dreams mate’. We can expect the pitch fees to be going up some time soon.

Once the good of the parish had absented themselves, Sloths were able to open the mobile bar, which was swiftly emptied. We were then treated to the musings of Sage Lodge. Jon, due to digital miscommunication, had arrived expecting to play, only to find himself twelfth man. Taking his duties seriously (and with a healthy intake of liquids), Lodge offered wise council in the form of sledging, verbal abuse and helpful advice to skipper Bond, as he singlehandedly cleared the empties.

  • So, is this the dawn of a new era, with a fresh influx of cricketing Bathampton Dads?
  • Will Bond and McCauley finally come to blows at the crease?
  • What was that mysterious light emanating from Brown’s Folly, in the gathering darkness?
  • Where does SDS keep his secret stash of cider?

Answers, please, on a discarded Sloth bat and placed in the bonfire at the next AGM…

 

Harry Carpenter; boxing correspondent; Slothful Times

A Worthy Celebration

A Sloth tour traditionally comprises two or three nights of drunken debauchery, coupled with a brace of hung-over cricketing encounters. This year, however, things were taken to a whole new level. With five days’ partying and just one fixture, the Pilton tour of 2019 seemed far more representative of true Slothdom. And what a feast of sporting excellence it turned out to be.

Having located the game as close as humanly possible to D’Pipe’s place of work (the circus tent), it was no surprise to find him absent from proceedings. Sloth Howard also needs to take a hard look at his priorities. He deemed it more important to document the collective efforts of a thousand hippies bringing attention to the plight of our planet than attend an important cricket fixture. A disciplinary hearing was later held in the backstage Theatre & Circus area. He was found not guilty on the grounds he was able to secure after-hours drinks for the chairman of the panel. Notley was also Notpresent, presumed comatose in a ditch somewhere.

But, despite these notable omissions, a star-studded line-up was fielded. This included our overseas professional, Matt Cawley. It was the same old Matt we know and love, only sporting a Brazilian and a little camper (his girlfriend and accommodation, do pay attention). Ironically, Matt appeared the least stoned we’ve seen him for years – but it was only Thursday afternoon.

SDS was captain-elect for the proceedings. Similarly in a state of near-sobriety rarely seen at Pilton, he even provided the stumps and a suitably crowd-friendly ball. Luc Horcrux was keyed up and raring to go, like a Stumpchat on amphetamine. He brought along Ringer Gio, who took up photographic duties in Ant’s absence. Madeye made the effort of appearing in semi-whites (and rather fetching rainbow shades). And that’s about it for the regular Sloths.

However, an ever-changing cast of characters made up the numbers, from be-kilted men to be-glittered ladies. The former, upholding the commando tradition, ensured that the Sloth no no-balls rule was enforced. There was even a fine stint from Ben Stokes. At first, we thought it was just a look-alike. But then he pulled off the most improbable catch – a virtual carbon copy of his recent spectacle at the World Cup. So, it must have been him.

Talking of catches, blimey were they in abundance. Madeye and Cawley both held-on to wayward strikes on the run. Luc conjured, out of nowhere, an astonishing one-handed tumbling take at backward square leg that made Stokes’ effort look quite ordinary. He also concerned himself with ensuring no young children were maimed, fending-off over-zealous shots in the direction of the burgeoning spectators. And SDS, ‘fielding’ at mid-on, nonchalantly caught the ball with one hand, whilst simultaneously photographing the event with his phone in the other.

In truth, some of the crowd may have been gathered on the boundary to take advantage of shade from the circus tent. Others may have been watching the neighbouring (sometimes enveloping) giant football match. But the exuberant stroke play, fielding acrobatics and frankly dangerous bowling did not go unnoticed by the captive onlookers.

In the end, it was hard to say who scored what, for whom and why. In truth, cricket won on the day. And if a Glastonbury-worthy finish was ever needed, Cawley delivered in style. Hooking a beamer for six, he not only cleared the boundary but also the perimeter fence. Straight into the backstage circus area. Gamely heading off to retrieve the ball, Matt was swiftly set upon by security. We think he may still be there. Or perhaps he was deported back to Brazil. Never mind, it was lovely to see him again, if only briefly.

With Cawley incarcerated and the ball missing, stumps were taken. Or, rather they weren’t. It was decided to leave them in situ as a fitting tribute to our dearly-departed ex-Sloth Matt. May he rest in Pilton.

Michael Eavis; Festivals Correspondent; Slothful Times

Time, Gentlemen, Please

A Sunday game at Priston is guaranteed to provide drama, incident, controversy and runs. Yesterday was to be no exception. But would it all end in another disappointing draw?

In adherence to recent government directives, Sloths shifted focus away from London-centric elitism. Instead, they opened with the Northern Powerhouse of McCauley and Stumpchat.  The High-speed Sloth Two (HS2) project, however, ran off the rails before it had really got going. So, a new coalition was quickly convened and normality restored.

Painter and Stump took time to assess the moss-laden wicket, boundary-defeating outfield and variable bowling. Once the pair had established themselves, however, runs ensued. Painter stretched and contorted his reconstituted frame to defy medical science, once again turning wides into boundaries. Stump went aerial with his trademark back-foot straight drives. And, in between, they rotated the strike with singles aplenty.

When you look across the pitch from the makeshift pavilion, towards Priston’s enormous cock, there is a certain timelessness to the scene. Which rather adds irony to their home games being timed, rather than limited by overs. It would be uncharitable to suggest the hosts are deliberate in taking an age to set, reset, refine and rescind their field placings. But, blimey, do they take their time.

Both Stump and Painter were firmly entrenched by the drinks break. Thereafter they set about scoring more freely, each passing fifty in short order. Fresh, all the while, was limbering up in the nets and raring to go. When Painter called for a runner, he willingly obliged. And when Jim decided enough was enough, choosing to take early retirement, Fresh was already in situ to take over. This, despite the fact the number 3 batsman was actually Bond.

But no matter. Painter’s departure seemed also to upset Stump’s equilibrium. He gave up his wicket next over, lobbing an easy catch back to the youthful (and painfully serious) bowler. As Stump took the applause for a fine innings, Painter was still reeling from the news he’d retired on 97. He hadn’t. But no-one had the heart to tell him this was just a wind-up.

All in all, Sloths reached a commanding total of 200+ runs. Priston would, no doubt, be more than happy to settle for a draw. So, the focus was to take wickets, over and above defending runs.

Howard set the standard, dropping a certain caught-and-bowled with the first ball. He then took a spectacular dive over what would have been a simple catch – had he stayed put at short mid-wicket – from the bowling of Yerbury. Stump followed suit, dropping edged balls, also from the whiley Yerbury. Madeye managed to be caught napping and out of position, having an ornithological discussion with Fresh at extra cover. How they laughed as a red kite circled above the haplessly oblivious twitcher, clutching binoculars in the clubhouse. How Ric laughed as the ball was hoisted to the precise spot left vacant by Madeye.

But wickets did fall. Yerbury was dastardly as always. Ant found line and length from the start and had the ball moving alarmingly from the pitted strip. McCauley tempered his pace, until no-balled. Resuming his full run-up, he then demolished the wickets. Franks confused the batsmen with his variable speed and flight. ‘Where’s’ Ed held a catch on his second attempt at long off to a mistimed drive from a rank full-toss. Fresh kept the batsmen pinned to the crease with full-pitched deliveries. And so on.

Proceedings had to be halted when Priston’s skipper top-edged an over-pitched ball into his own face. It was quickly apparent that this was serious. The batsman immediately said he couldn’t see anything out of the eye where the ball had struck. This situation did not improve and he was whisked away for hospital attention. We all wish him well and sincerely hope his eyesight can be fully restored.

It naturally took a while for the mood to lift, following this unfortunate interlude. Sloths also found it difficult to keep their collective feet on the jugular when Priston’s youngster took to the crease. He may be older but looks not more than 11. Eventually, the irrepressible Stu could hold back no more and stumped the little tyke. What are the chances?

Then followed Priston’s most senior member, Wilf. And what a game fellow he is. He even stole a crafty single, though struggling to make the 22 yards. Fresh showed no mercy. Wilf had to go.

One Priston batsman did make it past fifty. But he was something of a lone figure. A couple of the openers and the injured skipper also looked capable of making runs. But this was a formidable Sloth bowling attack, determined to avoid a dispiriting draw. And avoid it they did.

Convening in the ‘Ring O’ Bells’ for post-match refreshment, questions – as they so often do – abounded:

  • Should we tell Painter he really only got 70-odd runs?
  • Can Sloths manage to raise a motley crew for next season’s proposed ‘tour’?
  • Do chips and ketchup constitute a Northern Fondue?
  • Why do the Priston villagers have such an enormous cock?

Answers, please, via the comments box below…

Bill Oddie, Ornithology Correspondent, Slothful Times

SLOTH HERD FLATTENS FLAT FLOCK

by our Wild Life Correspondent,
Sir Dave ‘don’t call me Mavis’ Attenborough,

Time to revisit our native herd of Sloths to see what they are up to.

It’s Tuesday evening so being creatures of mind numbing habit our group can be found engaged in communal activity at Bathampton. This is like Community Service, as most present appear to be of deviant quality except that their activity shows little communal or useful outcome.

Let’s see what happens when they encounter a flock of migrating Flats.

  • Observation 1. Despite being termed Sloths most in this group regularly imitate other creatures.
  • Observation 2. Two dominant males circle and rummage a bit, after which, the Sloth male is proclaimed to have ‘won the toss’ and judging by his massive rippling shoulders, who can argue?
  • Observation 3. Sloths Stumpchat and Maylor take the field wielding their willows with vigorous intent, scampering about with firm rippling buttocks as they squeal like excited piglets. However I digress.
  • Observation 3. Something happens and an older male appears staring at all those around him with ill concealed disgust. This looks like nothing other than a very grumpy rhinoceros who is going to have an argument but he hasn’t decided, yet, what about or with whom. Things explode within his presence.
  • Observation 4. A young dominant male then approaches but seems uncertain of his ground fearing a trap. Where is that Scottish twat who normally feeds his ire. No matter, batter, smash and bosh. Job done.
  • Observation 5. Things happen.
  • Observation 6. Amongst other things, a slightly hesitant older male appears, considers his situation, and retreats having faced only one delivery, whatever that is. However on questioning later said older Sloth professes himself entirely content with everything that has come to pass. Oh if only all Sloths could achieve that higher level of understanding, must be all those books.
  • Observation 6. Other things, followed by a general rearrangement of creatures. The Flat Flock take the field, although it appears to stay exactly where it was.
  • Observation 12. Flat Flock show great resolve and some skill but are perhaps too eager for the prize. Wickets fall despite comedy catching display by The Sloth Leader who spills relatively easy pouch (it wasn’t, most Sloths would be entirely unaware that the Ball was anywhere near them) and then takes a ludicrously difficult running backwards over the shoulder job with ease. Twatting show-off.
  • Observation 27. New herd member Warren commences his display, a thing of purposeful intent. Responding Flatters expecting simple belligerence (judging by preliminary rustling of plumage) are non-plussed by considered but insistent pressure. Stats? Nope haven’t a clue.
  • Observation 19. Meanwhile chirping amongst the herd has risen imperceptibly. Experienced observers would have expected this to be designed act in support of the herd as a whole. However, insults appear to be directly solely within the herd. Darwin would surely have written a different theory had he bothered to go the extra mile to Bathampton rather than the ruddy Galapagos, air-miles my arse, twat. In particular exhortations by a younger Sloth towards Rhino Sloth of ‘go on, do one for your wife’ seemed bewildering in it’s purpose and did not appear to please Rhino Sloth over much.
  • Obstetrics 24. Several of The Flats Flock appear to be related although it has to be said, visual similarities seemed somewhat absent. Breeding patterns of the Flats clearly mysterious. The last of said offspring a lad of tender years resisted the bowling well with an admirably straight bat until undone by quite a stiff one form the Sloth Leader. Apparently that was it.

 

THE CRICKET FACTS?

Not sure since I haven’t seen the scorebook which in any case does not seem to have any of the Sloth bowling. So, briefly –

  • a true thumping by The Sloths who made 171! (adjusted down from 181 after removal of Guiness based algorithm).
  • this set up by very rapid start made by Sloths Stumpchat and Maylor, running everything very fast, plenty of threes and even one genuine (no overthrows) all run 4.
  • nearly all batsmen contributed well
  • the response from The Flats as mentioned above, purposeful and with skill but just too many wickets falling to a good all round bowling despite young Maylor being accused of throwing and Bookman being ‘no-balled’ for adopting the ingenious tactic of delivering the ball from five feet behind the bowlers end stumps.
  • I think they were out for about 90?
  • the result received by the Flat Flock with genuine good humour in stark contrast to the humour of certain tube-mangling teams, even when the y beat us.

FINALLY THE WEEKLY QUIZ

  • if Madeye came to a conclusion in a forest would it make a sound?
  • why has Stumpchat got a birds nest on his face?
  • what is shirt?
  • and bearing in mind the alarming news of infection of ‘Bunger Maylor’ with mumps, please can we all think really hard about his testicles and pray for their deliverance?

Signing off,
Dave ‘don’t call me Mavis’ Attenborough.

Good Humour Wins the Day

One of the hallmarks of Bathampton cricket has always been the ability to laugh in the face of defeat. The home side is prone to making poor decisions and having lapses in judgement. But it knows that, in the end, we are all playing for the love of the game. Once again, last night at KES, this good-humour prevailed.

This was an absurdly high-scoring occasion. Notley finally found the 25 that had so far eluded him. McCauley, once more retired, had to be physically restrained, so desperate was he to resume his barrage at the end of the innings. However, tail-enders Yerbury and Wilf refused to yield. Not only that but they scampered some useful late runs. It was observed that these two may well have set a record for the greatest age-difference between Sloths at the crease (Wilf is, I believe, just 11 or 12 – Yerbury… I wouldn’t like to speculate…).

Like Tom before him, Luc kept looking for big scores post-25, valiantly conceding his wicket in the process. Evidently, others had done similar – since the Sloth total was a dizzying 158 – but I wasn’t there, so couldn’t comment. Newbie Paul did, however, report he’d been bowled first ball in his first innings for Bathampton. Now there’s a true Sloth in the making.

Amid the new-fangled fashion for correct batting and accurate bowling, it was refreshing to have Chairman Russ on hand to show some genuine flair. And genuinely frightening flairs. The old Franks bomb-drop was once more in evidence. And it was quite effective in upsetting the flow of Old Eds’ incendiary opener, Kit.

Fresh was on blistering form, giving Stump something to think about in the fading light. Luc, once again, gave cause for onlookers to question whether he had really not played cricket before this season. Not only did he bowl well but he was invaluable on the long boundary. There, he both saved runs and provided a continuous counterpoint to Stu’s motivational chuntering.

Pick of the crop, though, was Mr Yerbury. Taking two wickets for very few runs, Ric displayed his familiar knack for appearing innocuous but being devastating. He also held onto a vital catch in the deep. Others took wickets at rather greater expense, to-wit Messrs. Notley and McCauley.

Bathampton kept Es to around 6-an-over for the greater part of their innings. However, with 5 or so remaining, it was beginning to look as though they may prevail. Two batsmen were key to this looming upset. Both had retired, meaning that once Eds reached the end of their shortened batting line-up, these were available to finish the job.

As has been well-documented, by the end of these Tuesday encounters, the light – even on a clear evening – tends to fade, if not fail completely. Which is why, in recent games, some Sloths have been incensed by the late deployment of pace bowling. On this occasion, the main objective was to stem the runs. Quick bowling would not only be potentially dangerous but also tactically questionable. So, on came Fresh and McCauley.

Fortunately, as mentioned, the home team are a good-humoured bunch. That home team being Old Eds. Broadford kept on swinging the bat in the gloom and was happy to make 51. Kit did have a word, having  been struck by a sharply-rising ball at pace on the shoulder, but seemed otherwise unperturbed. And, in fairness, McCauley then reverted to spin.

In the end, Old Eds fell short by some 15-odd runs. It had been a valiant fight back and a cracking game. Perhaps Eds were victims of their own home rules. Had they stuck with no LBW and two overs per bowler, perhaps the outcome may have been different. Who knows? And who knows the following:

  • • Now Yerbury has revealed that he can – after all – bat, will he be put up the order?
  • • Can Mrs Russ be persuaded to run up lurid flair-inserts for the whole team?
  • • Is Wilf now grounded, having humiliated his father with the bat?
  • • Should pink balls (and, possibly, full-body armour) be made available to the team batting second?

I was going to end there but really can’t THINK OF A CONCLUSION…

Kofi Annan, fair-play correspondent, Slothful Times