Sloths Survive Epic Tour… Just

Lying on Exmouth beach, Sunday morning, with fellow Sloths-on-tour, I was reminded of a scene from ‘Withnail & I’, in which Withnail tells a local farmer “We’ve gone on holiday by mistake”. It was easy to forget that, in only a short time, Sloths would be facing their stiffest challenge of the weekend. But much water had already flowed under the proverbial bridge by this juncture.

As we all know, what goes on tour stays on tour. In this instance, Nick ‘Van-Man’ Cunliffe almost took that aphorism way too literally. I suppose The Prattshayes Cunliffe Memorial Campsite would have had a certain ring to it. Luckily, though, local sign writers can rest easy for the time being.

Beginning with a gentle warm-up on Friday afternoon, Sloths eased themselves into a well-oiled tour rhythm. And some cricket happened too. To be honest, the details are now something of a hazy memory. Suffice to say the after-match celebrations were extensive and well-executed by all.

Whether or not Lodge’s investment in a shiny new bat was a good one remains to be seen. Once he uses the thing, I’ll get back to you. Painter will probably be shortly in line for a full body replacement. In the meantime, he’s getting full value from the remnants of this one. His century at Somewhere-or-Other, largely executed on one leg, was met with joyful glee and unidentifiable songs by his teammates on the boundary.

Cunliffe bowled an astonishing spell at the same ground. This was, frankly, too good for the batsmen and key to a famous Sloth victory. The final nail was delivered by Fresh. After a rather uncertain start, he also found his line and length. Following an over of what was deemed, by the opener, to be unplayable, said batsman vented his frustration at Big Mac. A poor choice.

Mac politely suggested the disgruntled player might consider early retirement. At which point the latter offered to demonstrate why this was a bad idea, with the aid of his bat. At which point, Mini Mac suggested perhaps he shouldn’t take on so and could he, please, leave his brother alone.

All very convivial and witty. But it did rather spoil the mood. No matter, we won – so fuck ‘em.

What else? Cam took some ridiculous catches on the first evening, garnering him the Man of the Match award, which he downed in one. Far be it from me to reveal who won Dick of the Day but, suffice to say, there were contenders a-plenty.

In truth, every single Sloth contributed, both on and off the field of play. This was a tour to remember (if  only we could). It will, undoubtedly, have injected a whole new level of esprit-de-corps, bonhomie, joie-de-vivre and – er- croissants(?) into the Bathampton ranks.

We all owe a huge debt of thanks to Jim Painter for organising this escapade. And in the middle of a global pandemic too. With rumours of Big Mac’s relocation to East Asia, coupled with Jim’s connections in that region, we’re looking forward to more sun, sea and singing next year!

So, well done boys, one and all. And long live the Sloths. Especially Nick.

 

P.S. Throughout Saturday – and into Sunday, a somewhat herbally-enhanced Stumpchat exhorted me to write a tour song. So here, to the tune of ‘I Will Survive’, it is:

 

Sloths Will Survive

At first I was afraid, I was petrified

Kept thinking Sloths could never win without Nick on our side

He spent the night in A&E but then Lazarus was free

And he grew strong and he fielded at mid on

–

And took a catch from outer space

Even while he eyed the umpire with that look upon his face

He should have had the minted lamb

He should have shunned his veganry

If he’d have known for just one second there were nuts in the chick pea

–

REFRAIN:

Go on Jim go, walk out and score

Turn it around now, though you’re not running any more

Weren’t you the one who tried to break Ant with your cries

Before your ton-ball? Did you hang Luke out to dry?

 

Oh no, Stump’s high! But we’ll survive

He’ll teach Porridge how to use the gloves and keep Cunliffe alive

He’s got so much life to live, we’ve got so much lip to give

And we’ll survive, Sloths will survive, hey hey…

–

It took all the strength we had not to fall apart

Trying hard to mend the pieces of a torrid start

Their opener spent so many balls feeling sorry for himself

We thought he’d cry – then Big Mac looked him in the eye

–

You mess with me and I’ll floor you

I’m not that trained but I can set my little bruv on you

So you feel like dropping out, well go ahead, fuck off, feel free

Now I’m saving all my bowling for someone who’s hitting me

 

REFRAIN

Go on now go, if you can’t score

Leave the ground now, cos you’re not welcome any more

Weren’t you the one who tried to win it with leg byes?

D’you think we’d crumble? D’you think we’d lay down and die?

 

And Stump’s still high. But we’ll survive

Cos he’s taught Porridge how to use the gloves and keep Cunliffe alive

We’ve got overs left to live; we’ve got so much lip to give

And we’ll survive, Sloths will survive, hey hey…

 

Aretha Franklin, funk & soul correspondent, Slothful Times

 

All Cox and No-Balls

Bathampton Sloths vs Bathampton Parents; KES; 06-06-21

It’s always good to see Sloths in good form with bat and ball. Yesterday afternoon, at KES, we were treated to the silky-smooth bowling action and decisive hitting of Harding (and her husband was quite good, too). Fresh was timing the ball sweetly, as ever, and accurate in his bowling. The only trouble being, they were playing for the opposition.

Fortunately for Sloths, the visitors’ keeper was unable to contain the pacier and/or wayward deliveries. So, byes were something of a feature on the scorecard. In fairness, this was a scratch Parents side, many of whom wouldn’t have played for many a moon and some not at all. So, Sloths’ newbie Ides put in another good showing, together with a surprising tally from N Balls.

Batting first, the visitors got off to a flying start, once the rather tentative returning Sloth Evetts was dismissed. His replacement took apart the bowling, comfortably finding the boundary in all areas, before a swift retirement. At the half-way mark, Parents had scored an alarming 90 runs and looked like running away with the game completely.

However, Sloths rallied later in the innings as less experienced Parents took to the crease. Harding, now umpiring, prevented the loss of one such wicket, when Wilf accidentally dislodged the bails at the non-striker’s end during his delivery. This was unfortunate for Wilf but – happily for Sloths – delayed the return of the Parents’ retirees.

Ant was on fine form, getting just enough movement from the seem to cause batsmen problems. Laurie asked some serious questions of daddy-Fresh, in an absorbing vignette of Oedipal cat and mouse. Wilf bowled good line and length, suffering only from the aforementioned no-ball and a probable caught-and-bowled, had he been paying attention (a true Sloth in the making).

And then there was Cox. Clearly a serious player in his youth, it took just one over for Stu’s neo-natal buddy to find his rhythm. His second over (or third?) was prematurely called ‘over’, before he steamed in for a glorious wicket with the last ball. But it wasn’t his bowling that stood out.

Cox was singled-out on the pavilion boundary for special treatment by the Parents’ batsmen. Here he arguably dropped two chances in succession. But, in truth, most Sloths would have contrived to: a) run in the opposite direction, b) fall-over, c) claim they were unsighted, or d) all three. Cox, however, prevented boundaries on each occasion. Then he pulled off an improbable, left-handed, diving save, before returning the ball neatly to the gloves of keeper Bond (who may or may not have caught the thing).

Chasing 145, from 25 overs, Sloths knew they needed a good start with the bat. And this was duly delivered by Messrs Painter and Howard. Painter, part of Sloths new inclusivity drive, has – of course – Special Knees. But this doesn’t prevent him from expansive stroke play and boundless positivity. The latter, sadly, got the better of him when he reached to swipe at a wide ball that was held in a remarkable, diving catch at slip.

Ant, on the other hand, is an untrained wind-up merchant, who somehow manages to be good at just about everything. His watchful yet urgent innings provided the perfect partnership to Painter’s commanding knock. Lodge, similarly, was up to the challenge. With characteristic grit and determination, he put important runs on the board, retiring on 30+ with his wicket intact.

Bond appeared to explode into action when his wife appeared on the boundary. If only she’d come sooner(!). Whilst these runs were vital, they were – unfortunately – too late. The intervening overs had seen the run-rate slow to a trickle. Which left an uphill struggle for the late-order batting.

Cox, on debut, was sadly dismissed for a duck. Yerbury tried his level best to get after the bowling but, too, was sent back to the pavilion. SDS’s eyes lit up when offered a dolly that asked to be despatched into the canal. Sadly, his attempt so to do had already ended before the ball arrived on the scene, going on to gently remove the bails. Mike and Madeye were possibly not the dynamic duo needed to complete the mission and Lodge’s return to the crease was an over too late to save the day.

So, Sloths both won and lost. Those with offspring at the school across the canal were, on this occasion, victors. And rightly so. They played with spirit, good humour, skill and – for those new to the game – a willingness to have a go. And maybe we’ll have picked up a couple of new Sloths in the process.

Over bargain-priced tinnies on the pavilion steps, answers were sought for the important issues of the day:

• If the umpire no-balls a bowler for failure to declare his action, is the bowler allowed to thump him?

• If the player who originally raised this abhorrent issue is watching from the balcony, are we all allowed to thump him?

• If Stumpchat and Bez both end up playing in the same game, will they cancel one another out?

• Should excitable, middle-aged Welshmen be allowed to drive cars with suggestively curvaceous bodywork?

Answers, please, written on a used box and left to moulder at the bottom of the Sloths kit bag.

Socrates, education correspondent, Slothful Times

Sloths Triumph Over League Champions

Bathampton vs Redbridge Royals; KES; 01-06-21

As the usual rag-tag assortment of locals convened on the outfield at KES, yesterday evening, they were met with a worrisome spectacle. A squad of youthful and athletic blokes in matching kit were warming up in the adjacent nets. ‘Don’t worry’ assured captain Howard, ‘they’re footballers’.

Thus ennobled, Sloths set about humiliating these cheeky young upstarts. But, from the start, it was clear this would be no push-over. With no preconceptions, emotional baggage or fear, the visitors quickly embraced the concept of hitting a shiny, round, red thing with a long, willowy, wooden thing. And, it turns out, some were rather good at it.

D’Pipe provided the first breakthrough for the home side, having first peppered the wicket with a barrage of unerring expletives. Hewes confounded both batsmen and fielders alike, with intermittent pace and spin. One ball pitched in the rough and turned at an angle that would make Shane Warne proud. SDS later dislodged the bails with a trance-inducing orb that appeared to be hovering in slow-motion.

Bonder, behind the stumps, gamely stopped the varied deliveries using everything short of his gloves. Howard scooped a fine catch, low to the ground, at silly mid-off. ‘Van-man’ Nick, Porridge and Cam all saved valuable runs, martialing the boundaries with quick feet and strong arms. But this week’s ball magnet was SDS, who’s finest moment was accidentally stopping a firm drive off his own bowling, whilst trying – but failing – to get out of the way.

All the while, the visitors kept the scoreboard ticking. Many boundaries and a willingness to scamper singles meant that this inexperienced side notched-up an impressive 122 runs. At the break, Sloths were less than certain of victory and a humiliating defeat was not out of the question.

Fortunately, though, the home side had a formidable new talent on hand to save the day. Enter W Ides, who scored erratically, yet persistently, throughout the innings. There was some debate as to whether his inclusion was appropriate. However, it was agreed the visitors could allow their better bowlers unlimited overs. So, all’s fair in love and war.

As with batting, for many of the visiting side, bowling was a novel experience. But a sportsman is a sportsman. Fresh from their recent league triumph, the visitors were up to the challenge. And, between wides and no-balls, several of these initiates were bang on the money.

Painter and Hewes provided a solid start to the Sloth response. Both hit with confidence and looked like getting off to a flying start. Hewes’ glory, however, was cut short, when he tried – but failed – to force a decent delivery over mid-off. Painter, back from a recent rebuild, overcame any lack of flexibility incurred. He knocked the ball to the boundaries every which way and gamely trundled between the sticks, before retiring.

The visitors’ chief weapon was Watson, who bowled with accuracy and pace. Others, too, caused Bond Snr to became somewhat becalmed and pinned to the crease. And when Bond Jnr replaced him, it looked as though he, too, may be stifled. But then something happened. And that something was Porridge.

In an innings of Freshmeat-esque fluency and Houston-like harrying, Luke stole the game. For someone who, allegedly, has only been playing cricket for a couple of years, Porridge displayed astonishing balance, commitment, range of strokes and sheer exuberance. It was one of the finest innings this hack has had the pleasure to record.

Cam, too, found his rhythm, gratefully accepting deliveries on his pads when a yawning gap at square leg beckoned. So, just as it looked as though Sloths may struggle to equal the visitors’ total, they raced past it with seeming ease. Or was it simply that scorer D’Pipe had added a couple of extra overs? Who’s counting anyway?

Over socially-distanced post-match beers on the pavilion terrace, Sloths asked themselves some searching questions…

  • Should a return fixture be offered, at kick-ball?
  • Does Howard know the difference between Third Man and Point?
  • What’s the correct response to a skipper asking you to field on opposite boundaries in alternate overs?
  • How many overs should there be in a twenty-over innings?

Answers, please, in indelible marker, scribbled on the windshield of the silver Winnebago parked outside The Crown, Bathford.

 

Lord Lucan, correspondent-in-absentia, Slothful Times

 

 

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