Sloths Tour Exmouth, June 2023 – The Saturday Survivors in Plymtree

Tuesday 30 May 2023

Sloths vs Stella Select

Stoic. Immovable. An opening stand worthy of plaudit and before a ball had even been bowled. The car park security post just wouldn’t budge. A stream of Sloths blockaded into Bathampton and could’ve caused a village-wide incident. Porridge being such a Millennial couldn’t work out the first numbers of the Bath telephone area code and the post remained resolute. Leo sounded his horn impatiently at the hold up and later claimed innocence and he was flailing about while putting on his whites. Skipper arrived with knowledge of landlines, post removed and Sloths flooded in with the treat of freezing cold conditions but warm opposition in our fellow spirit-of-cricket connoisseurs Stella Select.

A toss occurred or didn’t, anyway, a decision was swiftly reached that Sloths would bat first. Nothing to do with the freezing conditions that fielding second would bring I’m sure but Stellas seemed very happy with this.

The Gas Man and Long Man strode out to open / were blown towards the wicket as Stellas cursed themselves for not bringing a second jumper. The opening bowling was tight on line and on a length and I was pretty sure they were miserly. But upon analysis of the scorebook it appears 23 runs were scored off the first four overs which is practically Bazball, including a Gas Man crunching four and a wristy six from Lodgey. Who then tried to repeat this feat and found the fielder on the boundary edge. But, controversy! Lodgey wagged a gloved finger and insisted the young, innocent fielder was over the boundary! Luckily, and surprisingly, the umpiring team had already spotted the intersecting boundaries of 3, yes 3, cricket pitches and so told Lodgey to get lost. The Gas Man, Laz and Darwin then followed suit in perfectly lofting shots into the gleeful hands of well placed fielders and some argued this was more tricky than getting the ball past them. HRP broke this routine by deciding to hit it over the fielders and then was brought back down to earth by being bowled by a full toss. But controversy! He refused to walk! Believing it was a no ball he stood his ground. Luckily, Lodgey was at square leg and has a penchant for the rules (except boundary lines) so sent Nick on his way. A hard-running, gap-finding, newly-bought-bat partnership from Maslin/Carlin accelerated Sloth scoring. Will retiring for the second time in his Sloth career and Jimmy running himself out as retirement was on the horizon. Nice to make Will feel special. George promised much but popped a catch to the bowler. Striding out in the last over Brent went with instructions to swing and swing, oh he did. A heaved catch straight to mid on and he strode back. Meanwhile no.11 Porridge had shed his pads in relief as the innings had ended, yes? Actually no, two balls remained. Pads thrown on, box forgotten, helmet a-skew and sledges received from all angles, Porridge arrived at the crease. With Leo looking reassured at the other end Porridge slammed into a cover drive but the ball shot down to point (one for the purists) and they ran 3. Leo then saw off the end of the innings and a whopping 137 scored!

Sloths enter the field feeling buoyant after setting a defendable total but also feeling rather laden with all the spare layers of clothing, including hats, found and applied. Porridge steams into bowl amid a slew of oat-based puns that the batters may have found hard to stomach. A thin edge is snaffled by a stunned Jimmy behind the stumps who shouts “I caught it I actually caught it!” and Porridge forgets to appeal in his state of joy. Brent opens up the hill with tweaky tricky tight bowling leaving the stumps trembling. Will bowls hoops and George throws down lasers, both spells remaining wicketless and cricket aficionados would unhelpfully say that they did too much with the ball. Stoic batting as Darwin’s theory of good bowling proves tricky to score off and Lodgey, aiming for an IPL 2024 contract, threatens to Mankad a child. All these dots prompt the batters to risk a single as Leo The Cat sweeps in and delivers a devasting throw down to Jimmy to whip off the bails and everyone to declare that “that was actually like real cricket”. HRP delivers down the hill and generates bounce (of course he does) and has a batter play-on looking to score. Nick is still not sure if playing on counts as his wicket but now it’s his second time in two games he is coming around to the idea. Lazurus glides in as the batters open their shoulders and start to find singles. Leo bowls his “unpredictable stuff” and induces a shot high into air where a smooth Laz calmly claims it’ll be his with the repertoire “mine, mine, mine… mine…. Mine”. But Stellas are never down! Stellas big hitters down the order truly free their arms to attempt to take it to the wire and find some ruthless death bowling by the skipper. Cleverly bowling last he mops up 3 wickets with some devastating stump to stump bowling and smartly placing a trembling Porridge at short extra cover just as Stellas are trying their best to clump it straight threw that area. Luckily Porridge has sticky hands and gobbled up a quick reaction catch that the Sloths immediately decided was good, but not as good as Leo’s run out. Cricket, it can give and take almost simultaneously.

Stellas fall short with 80 runs on the board but play with tremendous spirit and share the Sloth psyche that the tinnie afterwards is as glorious as the cricket before. We will meet them again with hopefully just the one jumper on each.

Tuesday 23 May 2023

A month into the season and Sloths well and truly out of hibernation now. Upon hearing of Bathford having 8 players for the game, 14 Sloths appear stretching and creaking into the early evening sunshine. 14 whole Sloths in one place! And it wasn’t even a pub! Then 10 Bathford players also appear. Ah. Well, let’s play 12 a side, how much difference could that make?

Turns out, quite a bit. Bathford batted first and found the field 1/12th (or 1/11th?) fuller than normal. Sloths will claim it was their fielding excellence that made the difference as the dot balls racked up but it could also be the 7 fielders in the covers. Will caused trouble up the hill, but after Riccayyy made the first breakthrough drifting down the hill, the first volun-told Sloth-in-disguise was brought to the crease. Jimmer returned to KES after a shoulder, hip and/or calf injury and was eager to feel bat on ball. He did just this. Twice. Before being bowled by an absolute Jaffa from Jonty. At 16-2 off 5 overs, Bathford needed to regroup. Matt Cox bowled wheels but was sent to the boundary a handful of times. Singles were worked off Lodgey and George as a partnership was built. Trafford, another recruit from the fertile feeder club Bathampton Dad’s, made the breakthrough bowling a well set batter and the Sloths sniffed an opening. Their nostrils further widened as Porridge waltzed to the wicket, the second undercover Sloth received a warm welcome from his previous friends and settled down to face a rejuvenated and injury-free (please!) Headon. After being beaten by a slow bouncer and an in-swinger thundering into his pads, Porridge charged and spooned a boundary over mid-wicket. Sloths incensed, they sent on their secret weapon and serial impact bowler, SDS. The King Of The Sloths lured his victim on to the back foot with a looping delivery that smartly beat the bat (underneath it). Let’s just say the Sloths absolutely loved it. Brent wrapped up the innings with some miserly bowling and Bathford totalled 96.

Sloth openers The Gas and Long Man stole singles between the smaller-than-normal- gaps in the field and occasionally bludgeoned shots straight through them. Tom especially timing some beauties and Lodgey retiring on 27. The fall of the Skipper brought in Lazarus who demonstrated a classical style but fell for 9. Trafford then took a different approach and heaved his first ball towards the short boundary as Porridge eagerly chased, the ball was caught and celebrations ensued. Quickly smothered as Porridge was spotted to be 10 metres over the rope. Will nurdled some singles in a very new-season-approach style. Sloths chugged along but wickets kept falling. Riccayyyy ignored all temptation to use his left-handedness to target the short boundary and the plethora of fielders placed there with some inside knowledge. His shoulders would turn and his eyes would light up before deciding to dab it to mid-off in a disappointingly sensible way. The Sloth in him however could not be sated and he duly took the bait, but practically hit it onto the second pitch. Gorgeous George arrived with instructions to end it quickly and did with a sweetly struck four. There was no wicket taken by the Sloths-in-disguise to their dismay as there is nothing sweeter.

The next time so many Sloths appear at once it will be on tour, reports to come, if anyone remembers what happens.

Sunday 21 May 2023

Priston away. The famous fixture. The “legendary tea” fixture. The fixture that Sloths eagerly await when the fixtures get announced. Although the fixtures don’t really get announced, they just kind of unravel themselves from their tightly woven spreadsheet, some Sloths read them, wince and then promptly lose the link / paper / Gregg’s paper bag they were written on.

2pm comes. 3 Sloths get lost down a country lane, one turns up with a friend to watch (who, turns out, is much better at cricket then all of us) and Ant turns up in a car designed by Homer Simpson. All is well.

Tom The Gas Man wins the toss. All is suddenly not well. We never win the toss, correction, Fresh never wins the toss. This coin-based victory sends the Captain Committee into panic. “What would Johnny do?” A just question but our regular captain never wins the toss so this question yielded no help. Nick HRP Lewis at this point leans over, elbow to elbow with this narrator and surmises “Hang on, if we bat first, that means we all just sit here and wait until it’s our turn to bat?” His face then contorts, as anyone’s does, as he tries to comprehend the sport of cricket. Sensing this, Ant / Tom / Bonder / Stumpchat decide we should bat first because sitting down is the best bit.

Priston start a team warm up. 8 Sloths sit down. The Gas Man and Stumpchat pad up and vibes are strong as the sun comes out. It’s all classical style straight bat stuff, blocking out the offie and punishing the bad balls through the covers. An opening stand of 50 has Priston on the ropes but then the offie strikes and clean bowls The Gas Man for 26. Jimmy’s next in, relishing the moment, immediately survives a stumping and then plays-on attempting a booming drive. Riccay arrives and Priston can’t deal with the left handed sweeps and dabs to point. Another partnership blossoms as fielding chances go begging and strong running between the wickets. Rick is caught for a rambuckling 32 and brings Nick HRP (do we just all sit here) to the crease. No guard required, he tries to send his first ball to Cow Corner and is bowled. He goes back to sitting down. Bonder strolls in and is LBW in his first over. The game turns. Cricket at it’s best / worst. Drinks happen. Stumpchat enters his 40’s, he starts to sense this but wise Sensei Ant tells us all to lie to him and tell him he’s on 24. This doesn’t work, he gets nervous, starts scoring only in singles, calls for a run when finding the fielder at short extra-cover. We all get nervous. We know how upset he’ll be if h- he’s done it! A well struck four sees Stumpchat to fifty. Ant kicks off his season only using the middle of the bat and scores in all the areas Priston leave open. Stumpchat tactically gets himself out with a few overs to go so that he’s well positioned for tea. Lanky Boy Ben unfurls his limbs for some helpful lower order runs and Porridge helps himself to a wide and 2 cover swipes straight at fielders. Sloths set 205 to win. Ant strolls off smug about his 32 not out that he knows he will definitely fudge to a 42 when he does the website.

TEA THEN. I had heard the rumours. COVID had meant that my visits to Priston had been dry, hungry affairs and that I had truly missed out. Well my hungover 2 hour drive from a wedding away was proven worth it. 6 different fillings in sandwiches available in brown or white bread. Scones with cream and strawberries. Chocolate cake and coffee and walnut cake. Bucket-loads of tea. Crisps. And that was just what Stumpchat had on his first visit. Priston, you know how to cricket. We thanked them like it was our first sip of water upon leaving the savannah. 

Sloths, forgetting that we actually have to bowl now, took little notice of the padded up batters strolling past their bloated full bodies and considered a third helping. Dragged out on the field they then produced a clinical fielding performance for the ages. Gee’d up by cake and a defendable total they swept in to stop ones and hurled themselves to save fours. Porridge and Riccay opened and grew into their miserly spells. Priston waited for bad balls and found themselves, waiting. They were punished by a worm-shagging, daisy-cutting, grubber of a delivery from Porridge to clean bowl (dislodge one bail) an opener. Riccay’s opening spell of 5-1-11-0 seen off, they attacked Porridge and lofted a delivery up high into the air to be snaffled by Frank The Tank. Sloths had their tails up. The Gas Man comes in first change and off a one step run up demolishes the stumps with an absolute jaffa. Priston double down on their longevity plan and see off tidy spells from Gas Man and HRP. Bonder stopping all the short stuff at extra cover and the opener just repeatedly hitting straight at safe-hands Carlin wherever he stood. A bit of this and a bit of that from Ant has Priston unsure whether to attack or defend and he has the opener caught to signal a change in approach from Priston. They go on the attack and plunder runs off Jadeja (Ed) but beats the bat a few times with some rippers. Lanky Boy Ben and Frank The Tank come in for some punishment but both at some point throw themselves to stop straight drives (and protect their bowling stats). Sloth fielding is tested as bodies hurl themselves along the boundary, Ed uses his chest to stop a cruncher at midwicket, Nick takes a catch that came down with snow on and Ben patrols cat-like down the hill. All this fielding sounds like it couldn’t be improved I hear you say? WRONG. On comes our sub-fielder Ashu for Bonder. Ashu’s spent the day merrily bowling warm up leggies to waiting Sloth batters (he beat the bat constantly) and then watching as we field. Turns out he’s a gun fielder and his direct run out (think Ashes 2005 sub fielder running out Ponting) takes away any Priston momentum. Priston fall short by 21 runs but gave some Sloths some squeaky bum time (well only Bonder because he was the only one sitting down, but you get my point) The pub is opened (by the no. 3 batter) and pints are enjoyed in a quintessential Somerset village square. Priston away is completed for another year.

It’s a famous fixture for a reason, you know.

Sunday 14th May 2023

 

WARNING THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THERE IS SUNSHINE OUT THERE. THE DRY TYPE. COMMENCE CRICKET.

 

The sun pushed through the clouds to reveal Sloths and Bathampton Dads cautiously gathering around KES playing field with eyes wide and disbelieving. There before us was a glorious sight. A cut faux-golden strip in the centre of a luscious green landscape. A strip situated in the actual-equidistant-from-the-edges-middle middle no less, and not a rain cloud in sight.

Tentative warm ups began. Hands and hamstrings having flashbacks to better times and remembering familiar old routines. Balls were thrown and dropped. Bats were greeted like Christmas decorations out the loft.

Eventually somebody actually suggested a game should start. A toss happened. Someone won and chose something. Sloths were to field first against a formidable looking Dad’s opening pair.

Energy and vibes were strong in the field as Jonty opened the bowling. Unfortunately his grip on the ball was as strong as the vibes. Once his grip relented, line and length were found and only singles were nurdled. The Colonel launched up the hill for two miserly overs. A smart run out from Will only brought a big hitting no.3 out and Dads were on their way. A retiring JG, featuring some textbook cover drives, inadvertently broke a productive partnership and Dads innings stalled. Captain Tom came out swinging and missing to the delight of the Sloths. When he did connect though, he did so straight to Captain Fresh who took a nonchalant catch at mid-on and then un-nonchalantly told everyone how much it hurt. Ed channelling Jadeja, produced two of the quickest Sloth overs in history and featured a merciless stumping of Bathampton Son Laurie by a gleefully-fit-enough Stumpchat. Nick HRP and Fresh sent bails flying to snuff out any low order resistance. Gorgeous George left some fielding for the square leg umpire and Lanky Boy Ben attempted an underarm run out from 30 yards to ensure the fielding performance still had an eau de Sloth.

104 felt chase-able but also defendable on a slow but consistent pitch. The game in the balance.

Sloth new opening partnership Porridge and HRP demonstrated perfect cover drive technique between deliveries, after cross batting yet another accurate and straight Dad delivery. After some short deliveries were punished to the boundary the Dads begun a leg side strangle assault and grabbed the wickets of Porridge and The Colonel. Nick followed Ben Stokes advice and noticed there were no fielders in the sky, perfectly placing looped shots over the heads of mid on and mid off but just not actually to the boundary. Bonder middled a shot straight to a power-lifting Dad at square leg. Lanky Boy Ben nailed his first delivery for four through the covers and Sloths could sense victory. HRP gloriously reached retirement with a six and brought Stumpchat to the crease. Ben then promptly ran him out after hearing he was unable to change direction quickly. With the end in sight Will and George were sent out with big-hitting goals. Will forgot himself and nurdled a single to point before remembering his brief and proceeded to big hit straight to a fielder. George swung and forgot to hold on to his bat then next ball was caught and bowled off a booming straight drive. It fell to Fresh to guide it through the covers and bring a Sloth victory with an over to spare.

Over lukewarm ciders, Sloths and Dads became one again, basking in the joy of cricket returning, until talk turned to Part 2…

It’s been a long time since Sloths have witnessed Gillings holding up one end and carving out a circumspect, measured innings in the 20-over game. Only this time it wasn’t Gillings Senior, rather his dutiful offspring, Fabien. In fairness, the youngster did cream one glorious cover drive, up the hill, to embarrass two of his father’s erstwhile compatriots in the field, neither of whom got anywhere near stopping the ball. Which, at that point, was still red. (web editor footnote: I got my hand to it and stopped the boundary you twat!)

Said Gillings was part of the home side, Bathford: a mixed bag of league, non-league and never-likely-to-trouble-a-league players. And a nice bunch to boot. Well, I’ve not actually tried kicking any of them but imagine it would be enjoyable.

Sloths had opened the batting. With the ever-dependable Jimmy not in attendance, the visitors replaced him, as opener, with Tom’s touch-partner (don’t ask) James. A thoroughly nice bloke and a decent cricketer too. After a cautious start – having not held a bat in several years – James produced some lovely, genuine strokes to get the scoreboard moving.

At the other end, however, Lazarus didn’t seem to be hitting his stride. This may have had something to do with his pre-match warm up. Apparently, this had been a joint effort with Ant. And, it seems, they’d made something of a hash of things. Suffice to say, their doobie-ous efforts may have to be reefered to the committee, next AGM, so we can weed out the culprits. (web editor footnote: you twat!)

In contrast, Stump was remarkably clear-headed, producing some glorious straight drives and picking the down-hill boundary when the opportunity arose. Captain Luc showed characteristic exuberance but never quite managed to find his rhythm. His dismissal came from Bathford’s young pace bowler, who – first ball – produced a full-pitched, testicle-shrinking delivery that swung late and clipped the top of middle and off.

But the most commanding presence at the crease, this innings, was Harding. Realising the umpire was being meagre with his wide decisions, Tom chased everything, stretching to produce boundaries with the merest tip of his bat. He also marshalled his fellow batters, calling them through for singles and twos, regardless of who was running to the danger end.

Honourable mention should also be made of Ben, who valiantly took on the young quick, having the temerity to come down the wicket at him. Mind you, he didn’t actually see the ball.

And, by the end of all this, Sloths had scored some runs. But not many. Somewhere around the 100 mark, I believe.

Sloths’ bowling line-up, however, was strong. And under the Stokes-esque Horcrux regime, positivity was abroad. Luc set his field energetically, with shouts of ‘you go to mid-wicket’ (whilst pointing to square leg), etc. Meanwhile, vice-captain-elect Harding quietly repositioned everyone whilst he wasn’t looking.

With a small total to defend, the bowling needed to be tight. In the case of Lazarus, he was indeed (though his line and length weren’t – for some reason – quite what one would normally expect). Howard, Frith and Horcrux all bowled well, mostly containing the batting. However, the home team know their ground and were able to find the short, downhill boundary with anything that wasn’t quite on the money.

Ben, at long-off, threw himself around like a rag doll, stopping the ball in whatever way he could, making up for what he lacked in grace with sheer enthusiasm. Though this was sometimes rather haphazard, one mis-field elicited a chanced second run and the subsequent runout of Frith senior (on loan to Bathford). He also bowled a tidy two overs, keeping the ball well pitched-up to prevent easy runs.

Returnee James took possibly the catch of the season at slip. This to dismiss the aforementioned, entrenched Gillings. Coming off a thick edge, the ball looped and threatened to fall short of the fielder. However, James flung himself forward and to his right to scoop the ball with his fingertips, somehow managing to cling on as he hit the ground.

As the light faded – faded?… disappeared! – the ball was conveniently lost and replaced with something pink. Which may, at one point in time, have been a cricket ball. Hard to say. This was, in turn, replaced by what looked like an orange dog ball. But at least it was visible. Just.

In the dying overs, Harding bowled with astonishing accuracy to stem the runs, giving away absolutely nothing. Hewes reined-in his usual pace and was similarly disciplined. With only four runs needed for the home win, Luc called on his troops to prevent the single. Which they did.

However, they didn’t prevent the four. Oh well. It was a well-fought and enjoyable game nonetheless.

Over Prava-replacement-service Morettis at the Crown afterwards – joined by ‘Denty’ and the be-pony-tailed Bathford bowler with unnecessarily long run up, who’s probably called something or other – Sloths ruminated over the evening’s events:

• Was bowling 10 overs straight from each end a cunning tactic by the home team – or a genuine attempt to speed up the game?
• If the latter, why did they take such a Sloth-like approach to padding up?
• Is it acceptable to bowl beamers at under-16s?
• Can Luc’s granny knit the whole team sweaters?
• Or Rick’s?
• Should Sloths follow Pony-tail’s lead and try T20 on mushrooms?
• Who ate all the sausages? (Oh – I know that one…)
• If a Madigan takes two wickets and no-one is able to see it, does it happen?

Answers, please, inserted into a size-3 football with ballbearings and launched into the gloom at Bathford.

Timothy Leary, Narcotics Correspondent, Slothful Times

There was something of an end-of-term feel to Sloths’ final home match of the season at KES Fields last night. Appropriately, many of the old guard were in attendance. But skippering duties were entrusted to newbie Lazenby. Not that George feels like a newcomer. He is one of a raft of recent additions to the Sloth ranks that seem as though they’ve always been there (in a good way).

Though the school has long since finished its privately-funded 3-week summer term, the ground staff had prepared a decent strip amid the lengthening outfield. This made for curious playing conditions. Whereas the ground is water-starved and solid, the grass was patchy and run-sapping. The wicket itself produced variable bounce and grip for the seam, whilst the air was so thick with moisture you could chew on it. So, batting was a challenge.

To say it was getting a little gloomy by the end of play would be like saying our government is a bit incompetent. When visitors Royal Oak, batting second, called for the while ball, the suggestion was made that perhaps they’d like one with a bell inside.

Royal Oak arrived a little short-handed. Their captain persuaded George that, given their paucity of bowlers, they should be allowed three-over spells. However, this agreement was soon rescinded. Oak’s two openers restricted Sloths to a handful of runs, removing the openers in the process. Meanwhile, their missing players arrived, giving the visitors a full compliment.

Among these was one player who, by his own admission, normally plays at league level. And he was quite literally in a different league to everyone else on the pitch. Coming in off a lengthy run-up, his deliveries emerged from a high action, wide of the crease, then curved in at the last, removing both Lodge and (Peanut?) in the process. In fairness to Oak’s captain, he agreed that one over of this devastation was enough.

Sloths’ regular run-scorers, Peanut, Lodge, Stump and Hewes were all dismissed for modest totals. And, it turned out, the Oak team had decent bowling throughout. Who knew? Apparently not their captain. Seeing young Lawrie take the crease, said skipper patronisingly brought in the field and lobbed up a dolly. Which Fresh Junior duly dispatched to the boundary. That’ll learn him.

Harding built a solid innings, aided and abetted by Evetts, improvising creative scoops and sweeps between more orthodox strokes. Captain George didn’t stay around for long. Matt went for glory. And went for not many. Sloths were all out for 88.

But this was a strong home team bowling line-up. In the gathering gloom, Peanut and Matt restricted Oak’s openers to a trickle of runs. Harding confounded with his two-pace quicker-than-you-think deliveries. Hewes and Lazenby both asked searching questions: like ‘can you see the ball?’. They couldn’t. So, the aforementioned white ball was found – much to the relief of those in the outfield, who – hitherto – had had no idea what was going on.

Howard put in a good spell (you’re right – can’t remember… but he’s normally good). Lodge was outstanding and should have had a couple more wickets, where catches didn’t quite stick. Lawrie, once adjusted to the full-length track, bowled some corkers, beating both batsmen and fielders in the process. Evetts kept played-in batsmen pinned to the crease in the final overs. Indeed, the whole team bowled and fielded with focus and dedication.

Stump took time out from his running commentary to miss a certain catch, the ball ascending vertically from a top-edge off the bowling of Howard (or Lodge… it was dark), then falling – unobserved – within inches of his nose. He did, however, make amends with a brace of sharp stumpings. (Or maybe just the one? It’s hard to tell: Stu whipped off the bails so fast and so frequently even the umpires struggled to keep up.) And a glorious run-out, facilitated by a throw from the pavilion boundary by Peanut.

The runs Lazarus saved probably ran into double figures, as he patrolled that boundary like his life depended on it.  One outstanding moment saw Nic sprint round the perimeter, dive full length, gather the ball as he rolled, spring to his feet and throw in accurately over the stumps, in one smooth motion. And then, in the final over, he took an overhead catch, at full stretch, to remove Oak’s league-playing danger man.

Though the visitors now only needed three runs for the win, it briefly seemed that the improbable may happen.

It didn’t. But it might have.

 

In the absence of Enforcer Bond, Sloths gleefully helped themselves to cool-box-warmed beers on the pavilion veranda (don’t worry, Mike: Rick wrote everything down… kinda). As the bats (no, the other ones) made their dusk fly-pasts and the alcohol took effect, questions – as they are apt to do – arose:

• Why – when, aside from a couple of weeks mid-season, the evenings are as dark as a Nick Cave sing-along – don’t we default to the white ball?
• Is it OK that Fresh Junior finds the bowling at his under-13s fixtures significantly more demanding?
• If Ev plays for every pub side in the area, does he have a drinking problem? Or a cricket addiction?
• What is the half-life of a lithium battery?

Answers, please, etched into the blade of a wind turbine and erected on the hill overlooking Lodge’s farm in Wales.

George Monbiot, environment correspondent, Slothful Times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After many years hosting home matches at Glass House, Bear Flat – these days – are billeted at the Odd Down playing fields. This location has all the charm of a municipal car park but does, at least, provide a flat playing area with good sight lines. The strip itself, last night, was as green as Robin Hood’s cod piece. Which made for some very unpredictable bounce.

This didn’t deter Sloth openers Jimmy and Lazarus. Jimmy hit an extraordinarily fast and fluent 25, declaring – on retirement – he could have carried on for a century, given the opportunity. Nobody was arguing with that. With dry conditions and short boundaries, fours and sixes were in evidence. However, Bear Flat’s bowling ran deep. In particular, Sloth-ringer Chris and the Silver Fox both hit the wickets too many times to allow the visitors to relax into any rhythm.

Hewes decided to take the latter on, charging – Stokes-like – down the track. On first attempt, this elicited runs. On the second, it didn’t. As Rick scoured the horizon to ascertain whether the ball had cleared the long-off boundary, his stumps were reduced to an ungainly pile of wood behind him.

Lazenby took to the middle showing signs he would not be standing for such nonsense. So eager was he that he ran out Sloths’ senior pro, SDS. Only he didn’t. Bear Flat, fortunately, had a player (ringer Chris) who actually knows the laws of cricket. Running to the non-striker’s end, SDS was well short when the stumps were broken. However, for some reason I don’t quite understand, the ball – having already been returned to the keeper – was deemed to be ‘dead’.

In the final over, SDS was trapped at the crease by some canny bowling. Lazenby threw caution to the wind on the last ball and took a suicidal run. The keeper, on this occasion, threw himself headlong in an attempt to throw down the stumps. Missing by a mile, he narrowly avoided having George land with both feet on his head.

Some other batting happened. Newby Tom looked impressive. Fresh probably got a few. Will certainly must have done. I wasn’t really paying attention.

With a relatively modest 120 runs to defend, Sloths needed to bowl accurately and field well. They did. Mostly. With one notable exception, who – fortunately – is writing this report and so will remain anonymous.

Peanut and Will both bowled exceptionally well, though occasionally their pace helped batsmen steer the ball past the eagerly-waiting fielders. George clattered the wickets during his fiery two-over spell. Fresh took a spiralling catch from Will’s bowling to remove one of Bear Flat’s big hitters. Will duly returned the compliment.

Behind the stumps. Jimmy was impressive, coping with the unpredictable bounce and (ahem) varied bowling, with calm diligence. One particularly neat take – down the leg-side from the bowling of Fresh – could have removed key-batsman ‘ringer’ Chris. However, this was adjudged to have brushed the pad only, whereas Jimmy swore there had been bat involved. Who knows?

Hewes – fielding in the deep – used his long limbs to good effect, saving many a run with whichever part of his anatomy came to hand. Or foot. In fact, all the fielding was tidy and only Bear Flat’s predilection for intermittently hitting big boundaries kept them on top of the runs.

Cue SDS, coming on to bowl with just 5 runs needed and 4 wickets remaining. First ball: wicket! (Edged to Lazenby at short square-leg? Can’t remember.) Suddenly, Sloths woke from their collective slumber. Scenting blood, they crowded the bat. Two balls later, Jimmy snaffled the thinnest of edges from Silver Fox, who – despite SDS’s failure to appeal – sportingly walked.

Double-agent Ed ‘we’ve been expecting you’ Evetts then took the crease. Surely he wouldn’t be so foolish as to hit the winning runs against his own teammates? Surely.

It’s been nice playing with you Ed.

 

Over cool-box-fresh cans of weak, Canadian lager, Sloths ruminated on the evening’s proceedings:

• Where, precisely, should a lacrosse ball be inserted, after encroaching on the field of play for the third time?
• Were Bear Flat actually trying to poison us with their pavilion’s swimming-pool flavoured water?
• Is it bad from to provide one’s own refreshment, rather than join oppo, post-match, at their local?
• Is it less bad form, when said invite came from a Sloth ringer who refused to walk?
• Can we trust the judgement of an adrenalised wicket-keeper over said batsman, who – presumably – would know whether he had, indeed, hit the ball?
• Is it unhealthy to fixate on such details when the game was well won in the end?
• And who writes this shit anyway?
• And who reads it??

 

Answers, please, on a lacrosse ball, inserted into an appropriate orifice and delivered – bodily – to Sloth HQ.

Ian Flemming, special surveillance correspondent, Slothful Times