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