Category: 2019

Not Enough Stella – Too Much 6X

It’s always a joy to behold Freshmeat timing the ball sweetly and drawing admiring comments from the opposition. Apparently effortless was his progression to 25 runs, yesterday at KES, before making way for his eager teammates. Somewhat less aesthetic but nonetheless entertaining were the familiar improvised strokes of Franks. And then newbie Oskar showed a willingness to dig in and have a go, providing hope for the future of Slothdom.

With the ball, all three were similarly entertaining. Fresh stifled the otherwise explosive opening batsman with full-pitched and urgent deliveries. Franks’ long-hops, on this occasion, didn’t create so much devastation as hitting practice but are always a welcome diversion. And Oskar bowled too…

Just a shame, then, that all three were deputising for the shorthanded visitors, Stella. The ongoing Freshmeat-McCauley beef, therefore, took on renewed menace. Hard to say who had the upper hand here but each contrived to bowl at the other. Fresh was dropped by D’Pipe, who adhered to the new Sloth tradition of then failing to return the ball as runs were stolen. Later asked to comment, Pipe responded “Can you please move away from the vicar, so I can tell you to fuck off?”.

Maylor was outstanding, his quick and accurate deliveries matched by his boundless enthusiasm. This only marred by one drop. And that was just his bar-tending. He bowled pretty well too, taking 3 for 5.

Frith Junior-Senior (if you see what I mean) appears to have found a new gear in his bowling action. Now with genuine zip and venom, he represents a formidable strike-bowler. Junior-Junior, meanwhile, contrasted this with accurate, flighted, slow bowling that exhorted the batsmen to hit hard. They struggled, however, to connect. More cause for optimism over the longevity of Slothkind.

Painter, once again, looked at ease with the bat. He drove the well-pitched ball and stretched his reconstructed frame to fashion wide balls into boundaries. McCauley provided a solid foundation for his team to build on (you’re right, I’ve forgotten – but pretty sure he scored some runs). Bond looked commanding, playing with confidence until he was becalmed mid-innings. Hewes faced some confounding deliveries, now in lurid pink (the ball, not Rick) and was similarly stifled. And, despite the best efforts of Howard and Frith Junior-Junior, things rather ground to a halt.

Stella’s expectations of a trouncing were well-founded in view of the formidable Sloth line-up. Their score of just 113 certainly wasn’t enough to prevent a home victory. Except, it was. Bolstered by the aforementioned Sloths, Stella managed, somehow, to defend this meagre total. Still, as chairman Franks later observed, it wouldn’t do to continuously defeat such a friendly foe.

Post-match analysis, in the resurrected pavilion bar, shed little light on the whys and wherefores:

  • Should Maylor be routinely prepared with alcohol in order to enhance his bowling?
  • Could Maylor be employed full-time to run the Sloth bar?
  • Should Maylor be allowed anywhere near this or any other bar, considering his post-match performance?
  • Is Franks’ new glam-wear a cunning ploy to distract batsmen?
  • Should Fresh abandon his futile attempts to get past the planning committee?
  • Can Houston be lured back into the fold, away from his Frome idyll?
  • Can SDS possibly survive another Glastonbury?

We’ll leave it, as Queen once said, ‘in the lap of the gods’. Or, as Jonty might say, in the hands of God (though I’m not sure he’d be inclined stick his neck out just at the moment).

Tim Martin; entertainment & beverages correspondent; Slothful Times

Can We Have Our Balls Back, Please?

Few who witnessed last night’s encounter will be able to forget. The home fans went wild, whilst visitors looked on in stunned bewilderment. It was a glorious victory and one that will go down in the sporting annals. But enough about Liverpool – Barcelona…

To say the skies over Bathampton were darkening would be a gross dereliction of descriptive duties. Merely to remark it was a little parky would be an understatement of unforgiveable proportions. It was as cold as Fresh congratulating McCauley on his batting figures and as dark as Stumpchat’s mood after being caught behind. However, the pitch was true, the outfield firm and – the fact nobody could see the frigging ball notwithstanding – conditions set for a classic encounter.

For some unfathomable reason, the toss-winning skipper elected to bat second (again). Given the aforementioned paucity of daylight, this would seem a questionable strategy. With a batting line-up including McCauley, Dan O, Stumpchat, Hewes, Bond and Painter, the chances of a decent score from the host side were good. And so it proved.

In the absence of an actual scoreboard, it was never quite clear just how many had been scored. However, McCauley reprised his boundary-clearing, canal-reaching antics. Hewes displayed a remarkable lexicon of improvised strokes to prevent dot balls and turn fielders inside out. Stump played characteristically through the line. Dan O kept his head uncharacteristically over the ball to hit some beautifully controlled boundaries. Bonder was back on form, hitting with freedom and retiring in short order. And Painter was in sublime nick, driving the ball repeatedly back past the bowler with relish.

The visitors, Royal Oak, are always a game bunch and display a familiar disparity of talent/ineptitude. Talking of which, their ranks were augmented, on this occasion, by one Jim Cumpson. On seeing the arrival of said moonlighting Ram, comrade Howard seized the captaincy. The sole objective of this mutiny was to bring himself on to bowl whenever Jim appeared at the crease.

Cumpson managed to sneak onto the field unobserved during the celebration at the fall of a wicket. But to no avail. Howard, coming in off a run of such length he was out of breath by the time he reached the crease, launched a ball so lacking in lustre that it took two bounces before reaching the batsman. The next ball, however, was something else entirely. Pitched up and at pace, it took out Cumpson’s off stump.

Yerbury, once again back from alleged retirement, also struck the stumps. His unthreatening presence was, as always, confounded by his unerring accuracy and ability to move the ball both ways (or so it appeared in the gloom). McCauley’s celebration on taking the first wicket of Royal Oak’s innings wouldn’t have been out of place had he just won the Ashes. But one has to admire his commitment. The same commitment that saw him later sprint a good 20 yards to snaffle a lofted hoik at cover.

On the subject of being committed: whilst it’s possible he should be, no-one can deny the relentless enthusiasm, from behind the stumps, of Stu. Now in stereo, he and fellow-Yorshireman ‘MC’ kept up a running commentary that probably meant something to them but, to the rest of us, remained unintelligible babble. Stump took just the one ‘-ing’ on this occasion and also had the decency to miss the final delivery, from SDS. This, once again employing his super-slo-mo technique, arrived via the batsman’s pads with just enough momentum to topple the bails. Just.

Among the Royal saplings were some mighty Oaks. One emulated McCauley in launching the ball into the canal. At which point, Chairman ‘I’ll just sit this one out’ Franks offered the white ball. Nobody was quite sure who’s decision it was to accept. And even fewer had any idea as to whether this would more greatly benefit the batting or fielding side. It was duly accepted.

More controversy ensued with the revelation that Oaks’ returning retiree had come in ahead of one of their lower order. Apparently, the number 11 had said his eyesight was not good enough for the conditions. Him and half the rest of the players present. Whether or not this was an underhand tactic, it didn’t work. The big-hitting opener had not reckoned on dealing with the wiley SDS. And the rest – as they say – is history.

Whereas conventional wisdom has it that economy trumps wickets in the 20-over format, few could deny that wickets, on this occasion, won the day. There was even that rarest of beasts – a held slip-catch. This courtesy of Mr Painter, who also displayed some mean juggling skills. Honourable mention should similarly go to this week’s ball-magnet, Tom Notley, who saved a good few runs through his energetic fielding and accurate arm.

Meanwhile, Fresh prowled the boundary like a spurned lover. No doubt, he was keen to see his team mates improve their batting and bowling averages. No doubt. Frith, too, was there, looking on with stiff upper-lip and even stiffer upper-vertebrae. Considering he went head to head (or, rather, head to tail) with a Landrover Discovery, it appears that someone must be looking over him.

So there it is. A famous victory, full of incident, innuendo and indecent language (thanks Ant for some Pipe-esque use of the ‘c’ word). This is one that will be talked about for years to come. Long after some game of kickball has been forgotten. Slothdom is alive and well. It really is the gift that keeps on giving.

Any questions? Of course there bloody-well are…

  • In the rare event that Bond moves his feet sufficiently to cover the trajectory of a ball outside the crease, should this be given as a wide?
  • Should a retired batsman be allowed to return if a teammate declares himself unfit to bat beforehand?
  • Should a white ball be offered to substitute the red, in the event that it is so dark nobody knows where the question is coming from?
  • Can we demand that McCauley provides a new set of match balls, if he keeps hitting them into the canal?
  • If a visiting player decides, of his own volition, to proffer financial compensation for a gifted drink, does this constitute a commercial transaction?
  • Is it wrong for anyone other than Madeye to be drinking BOB?!

Answers, please, on a small slip of paper, placed inside a bottle and thrown into the Kennet & Avon. Thank you.

Bob Holness; Quizmaster General; Slothful Times.

All Rotork and No Trousers

In a game of limited-overs cricket, there are two schools of thought when it comes to choosing whether, having won the toss, to bat or field first. Chairman Franks had issued due warning in this regard prior to Sloths’ opening Tuesday fixture, last night at KES. However, skipper D’Pipe – under pressure from some of his more vociferous vice-captains-self-elect – chose to ignore this.

Confident the light would hold and oppo would never keep back their better (and somewhat quicker) bowlers until late in the day, Sloths elected to field. True to form, this was something of a mixed bag. Stump took three very sharp catches, standing up to bowling few would see from such close range. D’pipe was accurate and penetrating. McCauley was frankly in a class of his own. Dan O was exceptional once he found his line. SDS bamboozled the batsman with a ball that actually appeared to be in slow-motion. And so on.

However, Rotork had some big hitters within their ranks. And, in the end, it was their ability to find the boundary that made the difference. Sloths left some inviting gaps in the field and the visitors gleefully accepted. Few chances went to hand and when one ball was finally lofted towards the waiting Madeye, at deep mid-on, he decide not to risk the catch but to protect the boundary. Which, of course, he failed to do. In stark contrast, newbie Luc literally put his body on the line to prevent a strike of some ferocity that was headed towards the short boundary at deep point. In so doing, he rearranged some vital organs and – more importantly – prevented the four.

With a run-chase of 142 from 18 overs, Sloths were always going to be under pressure in the fading April light. Openers McCauley and Fresh got off to a steady start, quickly opening up as the bowling allowed. McCauley soon got his eye in and hit some much-needed boundaries to put Sloths on track for an improbable victory. All the while, though, Rotork confounded with accurate bowling and sharp fielding.

McCauley soon retired, whilst Fresh was caught behind – having been adjudged not-out the previous ball. Dan O continued the momentum, playing confidently through the line and providing possibly the shot of the match with a beautifully timed cover drive for four. Bonder gamely swung the bat but struggled to hit the big boundaries for which he clearly hoped. Stump played a straight bat as ever, hustling and harrying to keep the score ticking along. Howard did his best to do the same and looked eager to find some big hits along the way.

Rotork, however, had some key bowlers up their sleeve for the final showdown. Just as it looked as though Sloths might creep over the finish line, the visitors closed ranks and prevented anything beyond pushed singles or well-fielded drives. In the end, it was a tantalisingly close call. Some disgruntled Sloths grumbled about negative tactics from the opposition. In truth, this was merely sour grapes and frankly contrary to the spirit of the friendly game.

Sloths were well beaten on this occasion. But they can take pride in putting up a spirited fight against long odds. With D’Pipe back on song; McCauley doing his thing; ditto Fresh; and Dan O strong with both bat and ball, there is much to cheer. Perhaps what was missing last night was the likes of a Hewes or a Franks to come in mid-order and swing with abandon (and where’s Hewston?…). In any case, it was a close game and the signs are good for the season to come.

Over strictly apartheid beers after the game, questions were inevitably raised:

  • Is it wise to bat second when you know that a) the light will fade and b) the opposition will produce their top bowling under said conditions?
  • Should anyone listen to Fresh anyway?
  • Should the Madeye Shuffle be adopted to celebrate all missed catches?
  • Will there be a group discount for Sloths attending ‘Think of a Concussion’ on May 29th at the old Theatre Royal?

To which, the answers are:

  • No,
  • No,
  • Let’s hope not,
  • Don’t be ridiculous… oh, OK then.

Let’s look forward to a season full of thrills, spills, skills, mistakes and good-humour.

 

L Ron Hubbard; Self-Promotion Correspondent; Slothful Times

 

 

 

 

 

A Game of FIRSTS

firsts

(fɜːsts)
pl n
(Commerce) saleable goods of the highest quality

Sunday – our FIRST game of the season.

With few volunteers for the initial game of the season, El Capitano was scratching for a team, nothing new – Sloths hibernate and wake slowly. Franks did eventually managed to mass a full team, albeit with a few new faces and a few old ones (the new looking younger, the old, older). This therefore is our second “FIRST” of the day – Bathampton managing 11 “players” for a Sunday in April.

FIRST match for young Luc Horrux (Horrilocks? Horcrux? Horlicks?) – Luc looks a proper sloth (personality outweighing any modicum of talent) unlike some of our recent new breed of goodie-goodie “Super-Sloth” youth (all talent).

Someone who gave one, did toss and Bathampton went into bat. Another FIRST was the decision to opening with a partnership of Harding and Howard. Facing some decent bowling by (ex-Sloth, now traitor) Frith junior, Harding opted to do the sensible thing and ran out Howard, allowing some decent batsmen to the crease. FIRST run out of the season goes to Harding.

Next up was Harper, batting for the FIRST time with his new bionic eyes.  Harding soon decided traitor Firth was too much for him and wanting to spend a bit of time with the family, let one through onto the stumps. This turned out to be a brilliant decision as it finally brought Super-Sloth Paul Mac-caul-ley to bat. McCall_lee being one of the aforementioned Uber-Kinder-Sloths. Mick-Cork-Leigh then proceeded to hit 58 off 53 balls. Shocking both teams and forcing the captains to bring in the “retire at 50” rule for the safety of the game. How MuckCall-Lee got 58 is still a mystery.

Inspired by MaCauleigh’s efforts Bond then turned up the gas, smashing sixes with a regular aplomb. And though not as elegantly, more agriculturally, Bond too retired reaching his 50 of less balls than Paul Mac. (Though this could be down to the scorer – the book has Bond reaching 52 of 43 deliveries. So another FIRST, first time an old twat has out batted Uber-Kinder-Sloth on a Sunday.

As Bond was inspired by Paul Mac, Edwards likewise took from Bond. Turning the “agricultural” up a notch Tom added a quick 16 more to the total.

Luc Horli-locks baptism at the crease then followed with El Capitanio himself in partnership as “tuition”.  Franks demonstrated his full range of ground strokes, stopping short at the overhead smash, adding 33 to the score and a degree of bewilderment to young Horli-locks, who presumed he’d be playing cricket and not tennis doubles. Franks then ran himself out on the penultimate ball, allowing Paul Haith (Faith? Fraight – oh fuck it…) his FIRST ball as a sloth (but just the one).

Sloths had managed 203 of the 30 overs (quite possibly another FIRST).

The chronic slope at Bathford aided to our spinners but showed many an elder sloth up in the field, with arms and legs lacking any real co-ordination. Bowling saw the return of Kev D’Pipe, all mouth, no talent, proper Sloth. Now looking a tad more “Rusty”, Pipe partnered with Harding. The inept plumbers leaked runs (laking the necessary PTFE to do the job). Pipe going for 17 off three overs (no wickets) and Harding 17 off four overs, one wicket. Howard then showed the inept plumber-bowlers how not to leak, with three overs for 5 (1 wicket, 1 maiden). Paul Mac then promptly shat all over those figures bowling two overs, for 1 one run, 1 wicket, 1 maiden). Thankfully, Franks retired him after the two overs, again to protect the match and quite possibly any stats. Paul Haith proved keen with ball (3 overs for 6 runs, no wickets but one maiden). Yerbury too pitched in like a vicious sloth gerbil dismissing one of Bathford’s better batters with the aid of a stunned Howard – demonstrating the “always catch with body behind ball” technique which has left him with a collapsed right lung and possible cracked ribs. Tail enders were picked off mercilessly by Edwards and newcomer Luc Horli-golden-bollocks taking hist FIRST wicket, caught and bowled, so technically his FIRST catch for the team to boot. He then bowled their last batsman to finish the match.

Bathford 109 off 25 overs, all out.

Result, a team of “Firsts” for sure, how much we’d get for them is another matter.

For those with short sloth-like memories, last years’ opener versus Bathford, saw a poor draggle of nine sloths emerge from hibernation and get soundly trashed. The good Rev turning up late after a wedding, took a hattrick and then promptly was bowled for a duck, twice. (Having bowled the nine, Bathford allowed us to try again).

Match highlights: Harding family learning new vocabulary. Paul MaCackley’s parents attending to see his two overs but missing the tonk. Bonder’s smile retiring…
Footnote: new sloths, can we please have the correct spelling of your last name. New ringers: YCFOAW