It was a beautiful evening, yesterday, at Sloths’ KES HQ. Hard to imagine that, only four nights previously, we had been struggling to see the pink ball in gathering gloom, down in Devon. The skies were clear but there was moisture about, meaning the bowlers could enjoy plenty of movement through the air. This, coupled with somewhat uneven bounce, made for some surprisingly tricky batting.

The visitors may have also been surprised at the youthful pace of the not-entirely-youthful home team’s line-up. Pick of the crop, for me, was Fresh. Back from tour, he was able – after a little on-field coaching from Ric – to re-establish recent form. Twice, he beat batsmen that were shaping to drive to leg, only to find the ball careering onto middle and off.

Frith H also asked some searching questions. As did Hewes – though, largely of the inexperienced Bond Jnr, behind the stumps. Cam looked the part and dealt with the usual breadth and variety of Sloth bowling with calm assurance. Until the ball was nicked. But nobody can really blame him. Madeye, too, put down a chance at short mid-off but, frankly, nobody expected him to reach, let alone catch, the ball.

The visitors never really looked like getting away and only managed a total of 98 from their allotted 20 overs. So, everyone was looking forward to an early finish and extra time at the al-fresco bar. But this was not to be.

Frith and Fresh both looked assured at the crease but didn’t quite time the ball well enough to spread the field. Both did reach 25, though not as quickly as they may have liked. However, Sloths’ number 3 specialist – ‘Leftie’ Hewes – then came in to take charge of the situation.

The word ‘phlegmatic’ was used, on the boundary, to describe this individual. I’ve looked it up and, apparently, it means: ‘Having or suggesting a calm, sluggish temperament; unemotional or apathetic’. Can’t argue with that, really. Except the ‘sluggish’ bit. And the ‘apathetic’ bit. Not quite sure about ‘unemotional’, really. But it’s a nice word all the same.

In any case, Rick was soon back at the pavilion, having knocked-off a speedy 25 and ensuring the requisite 99 runs would be reached in time for a couple of cold beers. Lazarus and Flash Harry delivered the final blows, looking for the big-hit at every opportunity and occasionally finding it.

But the real drama was on the boundary. Tension filled the air as Cunliffe’s dad menacingly asked the vicar to talk him through his son’s run out. And an unusual new phenomenon was observed, in the gentle – yet persistent – sledging of scorer Harding by a certain chap named Bez.

So:

• Is it acceptable to storm-off, if persistently placed number 11 in the batting?
• Is it acceptable for the visitors to polish-off the entire stock of Thatchers Haze?
• Is it acceptable to harangue a vicar over his on-field conduct?
• Do we need to install Bez as substitute Northerner, in Stump and Big Mac’s absence?

Answers, please, on a Rizler and placed in Stumpchat’s kit bag.

Clare Fallon, North of England correspondent, Slothful Times

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

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

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

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