Held Catches – Beer in Batches

It was heart-warming, yesterday evening at the KES ground, to see Painter and McCauley bonding before the game, comparing the girth of their weapons. The latter had invested in an upgrade, having been disappointed with his previous tool’s performances. So, would this enhancement pay dividends?

In the event, Southstoke batted first, so we would have to wait and see. A friendly, convivial bunch, the visitors’ average age very nearly exceeded their combined runs. Batting with little concern for scoring rate, light or last orders, Southstoke were – in fairness – subjected to a sloth bowling performance of rare consistency.

For starters, McCauley scared the living crap out of their opener, who called for a helmet – before being bowled by a gentle leg-spinner. Behind the stumps, Bond played a blinder, taking a glorious catch, full stretch, from the bowling of McCauley (editorial footnote: Bond will be dining out on this for seasons to come. Dorothy – please feel free to take advantage of the George’s two for one offer to best hear all about it) and another, more straight-forward take, edged through from Howard again, bowling like the true sportsman and professional that he is. But the catch of the match was the improbable two-handed dive by Painter. Scampering backwards from fly-slip, Jim pocketed a spiralling ball that seemed to hang in the air for an age as he turned this way and that to match its trajectory.

Captain Fresh kept the fielding tight and the pressure on, as bowler after bowler delivered high quality balls. Speaking of which, Bond was reminded by McCauley’s pace that perhaps a box would be in order but resorted on this occasion to using his gloves. With humidity in the air and plenty of bounce and carry, Messrs Howard, Hewes and Fresh all asked searching questions with the swinging ball. The slower bowlers, particularly Bond Jnr, Painter and Swan, were able to find the ample rough, keeping the batsmen on their toes and runs to a minimum.

A handful of wayward deliveries were sent over the boundary but Southstoke were not the quickest between the wickets and a modest total (90) was eventually posted.

Opening the batting for Sloths, Franks – keen to monitor his team’s progress – called for a scoreboard update after the first, maiden, over. After this brief moment of circumspection (including some text-book forward defensive blocks), Franks decided there was little point in relying on Swan to back up, so sent the ball over the boundary whenever the fancy took him. Which does him a disservice; the opening Southstoke bowling was mostly pitched on the wickets and of a good length, so Franks’ quick retirement was well-earned.

As behind the bowling-arm distractions go, things reached a whole new level this week. We have previously had Morris dancing, joggers, cyclists and canal-boats full of lairy stag-weekenders. But, in an act of desperation the likes of which has never before been seen, Southstoke invoked a full-scale terror attack on the canal-side bins. This necessitated the deployment of local fire services to control the ensuing inferno. Well, there was a loud bang and some smoke anyway…

Bond Junior, seemingly under instruction from the captain, quickly ran Swan out in order to take the strike. In fairness, in spite of a backing-up technique so laid back as to be practically horizontal, Swann had – in fairness – hit some nicely judged shots to the boundary. But there were batsmen queuing up to have a go and McCauley was gagging to try out his new blade.

Having cleared the short boundary by some margin for a sweetly timed six, Bond Junior then decided he would hit everything that way. This saw him, at the canal end, racing to off and swinging back across his stumps at just about every delivery. Until, eventually, one pitched on and removed the off peg. Fresh was in usual form and looked set to add another retirement to his tally but top-edged a slower delivery for an easy catch. Painter made hay; thumping the ball with disdain (yes – you’re right – I’d stopped paying attention by this point but pretty sure he hit a few).

And finally, right on cue (cometh the hour… etc.), McCauley got to find out whether his recent club-augmentation had been justified. Apparently so. The ball flew from the genetically-enhanced meat with barely a sound and at some speed. Several times. Amusingly, it was never clear whether the winning runs were actually scored (a case of ‘they think it’s all over’). Firstly, the ball, assumed to be crossing the boundary, didn’t quite arrive and, secondly, McCauley may not have made his ground to complete the run. But Southstoke were happy to concede they had been well defeated and beat a hasty retreat to the impromptu – and very profitable – Sloth’s Arms.

Could this be a turning point in Sloth fortunes? Will Mole Swan report back to KES’s Russian paymasters? And will Sloths’ newly-nested Field Northerner stay to roost in the Bathampton environs? Stay tuned. Stay focused. Stay Sloth

Bill Oddie, Ornithology Correspondent; Slothful; Times

Missed Chances + Missing Extras = ?

After a cool start yesterday, the evening was pleasant as Sloths took to the field to bowl at a largely youthful and keen Guinness eleven. With the summer continuing mostly rain free, the pitch was bound to generate plenty of action, its surface rock hard and scarred from previous encounters. The outfield, too, would provide little resistance to the ball, so a game of incident was assured. And so it proved.

Frith generated catching opportunities immediately, which were duly avoided. Madeye, needing only take a few paces to his left to secure the first of these, proceeded to do a fair imitation of the Dying Swan, the ball dropping harmlessly to the turf, mere feet away. So, Frith resorted to clattering the stumps with a rare full toss to claim the first Guiness scalp. Later, Hewston also opted for the direct approach – as he put it ‘aiming outside off and missing’ – to take a wicket first delivery, then generating a thick outside-edge for an easy catch in his second over.

Notley overcame previous confidence issues to produce two very tidy overs, ditto Dalley-Smith, both of whom restricted what was otherwise a fulsome run-flow. In fact, the Guiness batsmen were generally more comfortable with the ball coming onto the bat, scoring consistently against quicker deliveries. Having said that, McCauley’s pace and accuracy, combined with some fierce bounce from the wicket, not only discomfited the batsmen (causing one to play-on) but left Bond bruised and battered.

Skipper Howard, magnanimously taking the final spell, very nearly pulled off a spectacular catch with the last ball of the Guinness innings. However, what he actually pulled off was several layers of skin from his knee as he flew majestically at full stretch across the adjacent concrete-hard wicket. All were full of admiration and concern, save one McCauley who observed ‘Nothing majestic about that’. We’ll make a Sloth of him yet.

All of which left the home team with a target of 156 to win. Opening the innings, Hewston and Frith – without haste but with impeccable purpose – began the fight back. Both timed the ball sweetly when the opportunity arose but, perhaps more importantly, also stole singles, twos and a remarkable number of threes wherever possible. This put pressure on the fielding side, causing numerous misfields and overthrows and raising the spectre of doubt in their minds.

Having both openers in such good form and retired gave Sloths licence to go after the ball, hitting with freedom and taking ever more risky runs. Indeed, Howard – having been given not out to a probable run-out – gave Guiness a second go a few balls later, this time stranded well short of the popping crease. McCauley characteristically struck the first ball he faced straight back down the ground past the bowler for four but was then unfortunate in chasing a wide that was well-held at deep backward point.

McWilliam swung the bat with menace, occasionally connecting with the ball and always looking to run, so too Painter. It was a peculiar quirk of the Guiness bowling that the speed of delivery was inversely proportional to the length of run up. Two bowlers, in particular, generated remarkable pace from just a couple of ambling steps, whilst a third ran in from half-way to the boundary but then stopped for a breather midway. And each proved tricky to face in his own way.

Nonetheless, aided and abetted by a steady stream of wides and no-balls (much to the chagrin of one or two of the Guiness number), the run-total built steadily towards its intended target. The cumulative effect of necessarily incautious batting and wily bowling eventually saw the return of opener Hewston. Picking-up where he left off, Hewston’s personal tally ended 52 not out – believed to be a record individual 20-over score for a Sloth. The accompanying tail-enders, meanwhile, tried valiantly to provide the boundaries required in the dying overs.

Frith, returning to the crease with just balls remaining, gave it his all but had to concede this was too big an ask. Perhaps had he known there had been a miscalculation in the score book, he may have conjured up a six from the last ball to win (or four to draw). However, the scoreboard was showing nine required and – having only managed to push a single – running the remaining eight was, even for this dynamic duo, out of the question.

So, for the second game in succession, there was little shame in defeat and all agreed this had been a memorable encounter. Even the laconic Bez, making a rare appearance on the boundary, observed that it was really ‘quite enjoyable’. Frith and Hewston, in particular, can be justly proud of their efforts and McWilliam did little to mitigate his place as ‘player Howard would most like to see the back of’. Bond was heroic as ever behind the stumps; Notley showed tremendous character and probably others deserve an honourable mention but I can’t remember who they are.

Will the Slothometer now remain pointing towards deficit or can Sloths rally to produce some deserved wins? Has McCauley infiltrated the Sloth ranks purely to drum up trade tending to knackered, middle-aged feet? Will McWilliam deliver on his promise to a) leave and give somebody else a sniff at the bowling award and b) organise a combined cricket/kayak-‘n’-curry trip to the south coast? Can it be true that Guiness’ self-commentating all-rounder is practically related to Stumpchat? And what would happen if both were on the field at the same time?

Who knows? And, frankly, who cares? This was a vintage Sloth performance; full of drama, character and a heady mix of quality/abject cricket. Let’s hope for more of the same – though, perhaps, with a different outcome next time.

Professor Stephen Hawking (deceased); Mathematics Correspondent; Slothful Times

Pink Balls but No Red Faces

Keen to make a good start to their tour, the visiting Canal Taverners wasted no time, Friday night at King Edwards, in nabbing the Sloth openers and laying siege to their meagre resources. However, a late comeback by 12th-man Franks then led to a record-breaking stand from messrs Madeye and Dalley-Smith.

Seeing off the opening partnership of Stowford and Abbey, they then laid waste to both the Italian and Scotch contingent, eventually retiring for light at 445. But enough about the drinking, onto the game…

With a glut of top-rate players, it was a natural choice for returning skipper Harper to put in Lodge to face first. Sadly, though, he couldn’t think of a batsman with whom to partner him. Having tried in vain to run Lodge out (again), Madeye was, thankfully, swiftly removed and so the innings proper could begin. Freshmeat, smarting from the indignity of having to watch this debacle from the boundary, quickly set about sending the ball back over it. And, since retirements were not in force, he threw caution to the wind and his bat at everything.

Tuesday rules having been abandoned for this Friday fixture, Taverners had the luxury of giving four overs each to their better bowlers and this proved decisive. Lodge soon went the way of Madeye, Fresh was caught off a hoisted drive and Frith Senior was dismissed playing on, before he had had a chance to get a proper look at the bowling. Hewston was controversially given out, adjudged to have gloved the ball before it glanced his pad and was well-taken down leg by the keeper.

Frith Junior made a solid start, looking tidy and compact against unrestrained bowling. Trying in vain to ignore the Taverners’ appeals for a run-out, however, the umpire was compelled to concede that the Frithling was short of the crease when the ball struck. Dan O appeared eager to echo Fresh’s disdain for the pink ball by depositing it in the canal but somehow never quite managed to time his hefty swings of the willow.

Evetts looked vulnerable when he first reached the middle but steered some nicely-judged sweeps and nicks to the boundary. Dalley-Smith then showed tremendous purpose in hitting the ball with uncharacteristic urgency, providing some invaluable late runs. However, Sloths had been well-contained and the score fell short of three figured at the end of twenty overs.

One might, then, expect a dispirited fielding Sloth side to leak runs and lose heart. This was far from the case. In fact, the home team put on a fine display of bowling and fielding. Lewis gave the openers plenty to think about, relishing the extended spell and the opportunity to bring in variation of speed, line and length this provided. Lodge generated several mis-timed shots that came close to providing catching chances and implored the umpire to give LBW for his first delivery.

Frith Junior was entirely un-fazed by the task of bowling late in the innings to batsmen with their eye in and discomfited them with his slower pace and accurate flight. Dan O, however, was the bowler that caused the most damage, taking three wickets and shaking the otherwise stolid Taverners’ resolve. Fielding at mid-off, Evetts comfortably held onto a catch when it came his way and Harper, behind the stumps for the first time in many a moon, was tidy and secure.

This was a spirited and impressive defence of a lowly run count. However, when it came down to it, that total was just too low. There was a time when it looked as though Sloths may pull off the most improbable of upsets but Taverners had fielded a strong side, knowing that on their previous two visits they had been well beaten at Bathampton. Capitulating as they did on this occasion, there was certainly no shame in defeat for the hosts.

So where does this leave Sloths for the season? Without recourse to any kind of factual information (why start now?) this correspondent would estimate that honours are pretty even. Questions, as ever, remain – such as: had the Taverners’ bowler actually managed to take a catch using his genitals, how would that be logged in the score book? Will KES ever re-stock the bar? And where is shirt?

Vivian Stanshall, non-sequitur correspondent, Slothful Times

E’s Are Good (But Sloths Are Better)

It can be a sorry sight to behold, when a trail of Sloth batsmen returns to the clubhouse in quick succession of a Tuesday evening. Only, on this occasion, the exodus was brought about by said Sloths each passing 25 and retiring. When viewed from the fielding Old Edwardian’s team perspective, this was actually quite alarming.

The recently re-laid track and dry weather ensured the ball was coming onto the bat sweetly, then racing to the boundary when firmly struck. In particular, newly-recruited (nicked from St Johns) Paul-the-other-one McCauley, demonstrated this with ease, stating after the game that, actually, he is ‘not a batsman’. He could have fooled us – and can we have our ball back please?

Howard, consolidating his opener status, retired also – aided and abetted by some wayward deliveries, with which he may or may not have connected before they bypassed the wicketkeeper. Bonds junior and senior both enjoyed freedom to swing across the line, Cam picking up several sixes in the process. In fact, it would be easier to mention those that did not retire, such was the consistent high-scoring. But that would be cruel. Oh, OK then… Painter was, I believe, caught by the athletic all-rounder ‘Kit’; Hewes played-on to a peach of a delivery from somebody or other…

Beyond that, it’s all a bit of a blur. Suffice to say that runs were scored in abundance, with the visitors fielding a skeleton team of just ten men (more accurately – nine men and a boy; OK – eight men, one boy and a Sloth). Hopefully, Ant will be able to furnish the web site with a copy of the score book, so each can marvel at his achievements. Pity whoever is responsible for keeping the F-L stats in order: this is going to be a season of broken records by the bucket-load.

To wit, Sloths finished with what is believed to be a record 20-over innings score of 181. Yes. One hundred and eighty-one! Unbeatable, surely? Well, yes. If ever words were to be eaten, they must clearly be those of the visiting captain, electing to bat second and announcing ‘It’s OK, we’ve got some proper batsmen and will beat whatever they can score’. Chairman Franks assures me this was said in irony – though it sounded sincere at the time.

Old Eds did, indeed have some proper batsmen. However, Sloths also had some proper bowlers. Paul ‘No. 10’ McCauley, for one, asked some serious questions, gaining at least one serious answer in the form of a wicket. Headon was, once again, full of fire and purpose, huffing-in from the Paramedic end. Hewes also knocked over the stumps, with a delivery intended for Madeye (who had contrived to be at the other end – moonlighting, as he was, for Old E’s).

Notley, coming in like a man with a grudge to settle, took a wicket with his first ball, before proceeding to set a record for the longest two-over spell in Sloth history. Headon took a terrific catch, early on, to remove one of E’s recognised batsmen. Cawley Junior made the run-chase hard work. As did Howard. And so on. And so on.

Needless to say, E’s fell some way short of the target. However, this was a spirited performance form an under-staffed and overwhelmed opposition, who manfully managed to sink a couple of bottled beers in their own under-stocked and over-rated bar before heading home to lick their collective wounds.

So, is this winning streak set to continue? Will we see the return of much-missed Sloth Harper? Will protective headwear become compulsory for passing canal-boaters? And what are our views on private education? (Let’s not dwell on the details of our privileged status as a village cricket team with a pitch to die for, eh?). Those seeking answers to the above should declare their availability early, as team places are increasingly at a premium. Except – of course – Harper, who is guaranteed a game any time.

Damien Hinds, education correspondent, Slothfull Times

Captain Fresh Steers Sloths Home

A week without rain meant the KES strip was flat and firm for yesterday’s home fixture with old adversaries Hampset. The outfield was similarly dry and, correspondingly, fast. So, would a score of 141 be sufficient to enforce a second Sloth win?

The already familiar combination of Painter and Notley set the tone, always looking to hit to the boundary but this time also keen to run whenever possible. Painter, now reassured his back can withstand the stresses of swinging the bat, did so with abandon, retiring once again in short order. Notley tried to emulate this but was perhaps a little over keen, falling – after playing the quicker stuff with good soft hands – to a straight delivery. Similarly, Hewes’s innings was short-lived; his removal ushering-in the enticing prospect of Bonds senior and junior at the crease together.

It was interesting to observe the familial snubbing of foot movement in favour of hefty brute force. In this case, it was junior who had the edge, in terms of hitting boundaries to both sides of the wicket. However, both had the edge in finding the edge, squeezing improbable runs from near-dismissals but remaining unperturbed. Cam blasted on, retiring undefeated, to make way for chief-irritant Freshmeat.

Johnny was tested by some intermittently threatening bowling but, as ever, ensured the scoreboard wasn’t allowed to idle. Looking pretty much invincible these days, Fresh drove, cut and steered the ball through every chink in the Hampset defence. It was similarly good to see the return of another familiar face in the shape of Matt Cawley. Taking a couple of balls to settle, Cawley remained watchful and composed; displaying terrific hand-eye coordination and great instinct for punishing the bad ball.

Headon, once again, looked as though he could – at any moment – break loose and clatter everything for six but, perhaps aware that few balls remained, didn’t quite find his rhythm. He did, however, have the good sense to run the final delivery, in spite of the fact the ball remained at facing-batsman Reynolds(?)’ feet. Sadly, Matt H. had not taken the trouble to let Matt R. know – and he (R) was left stranded as the inevitable run-out was administered.

Having seen an insurmountable target of 159 – um – surmounted just two weeks previously, Sloths were not complacent as they took up their fielding positions. Fortunately, in Fresh, they had a captain who actually understands fielding positions. Plus some pretty tidy bowlers.

Heedon, now finding the rhythm that had eluded him with the bat, quickly established that run-scoring was not going to be a simple matter for Hampset’s openers. Then Bond junior bamboozled from the other end, producing sufficient flight to ensure that batsmen looking to hit on the full mis-timed and procured a succession of deftly-held catches (notably from Hewes and Dally-Smith). Painter, meanwhile, took a more direct approach, hitting the stumps 3 times in one over, the first of which cut-back exquisitely from the dry turf.

One or two of Hampset’s middle order did manage to scatter the fielders to the boundary, lofting fours and sixes that always promised the potential for more catches. However, captain Fresh never allowed his men to languish in the deep and maintained the pressure throughout. Hewes was generous in tempering his pace for the tale-enders but nonetheless removed two of their wickets.

Leaving Reynolds to deliver the final blow, bowling Hampset’s last man round the legs, which is always satisfying for the bowler – less so for the man dismissed.

And that was that. Another win. And well-deserved, too. Not especially funny. Not even particularly interesting, really. But satisfying all the same.
Can Sloths maintain this winning form? Will KES ever re-stock the bar? Will Notley move into the parish? What will Cawley do to fill the summer’s Glastonbury-free void? And… where was Ed?

Horatio Hornblower; nautical correspondent; Slothful Times

Sloths Teas-Out a Win!

Sunday at Prior Park saw a new encounter for Sloths, facilitated – I believe – by our ecumenical mole, agent Frith. In spite of a characteristically slow take-up of team places, Sloths managed to field 11, whilst the home team struggled (presumably due to a higher calling) to fill their ranks. However, this was a good-natured and ultimately hard-fought game. And the tea was borderline-Pristonesque in both quality and abundance.

Back from a 15-year absence from the fair game – having transferred to softball and had reconstructive shoulder surgery – Johnny fresher-than-Freshmeat proved an excellent find. Bowling accurately and with pace and movement, as well as taking catches for both teams, one wonders whether he is – in fact – Sloth material at all. Talking of softball: Bond this week decided to use his gloves throughout his wicketkeeping stint, deferring the midriff fielding duties to Chairman Franks, hanging loose at silly mid-off.

Howard would have a had a wicket in his first over, had it not been for Madeye enthusiastically setting off in the wrong direction. However, he soon made the breakthrough, taking wickets aplenty for runs a-few (no – not seen the scorebook at all). Hewston had a tidy opening spell, testing the openers with flight and turn and Hewes swung the ball consistently, to the extent he was wided more than once with a ball that was originally heading for middle. He, too, took wickets of an indeterminate quantity for a, presumably, modest quantity of runs.

Lodge, having hit the wickets early on in his spell, later decided that dropping the ball short for batsmen who invariably hit to leg would elicit catches, provided Hewston was somewhere within that half of the field. Which worked. Again. And again. Credit to Hewston for holding said catches, most of which would have eluded the majority of Sloths (well, this one anyway).

With five overs remaining of St Johns’ innings, the home side had been confined to a score that would look more at home within a 20-over game. But, with their numbers depleted, St Johns’ openers were able to return for a second bite of the polo-mint-shiny (on one side) cherry. Now with eyes very much in, they only had these for one thing: the boundary. And this, suddenly, appeared to have become a lot smaller.

Said eyes then fairly popped out of the captain’s head when he spied lofted slow bowling coming his way in the final over. Suffice to say that a squadron of players’ offspring had to be deployed in order to retrieve successive balls from beyond the chain-link of adjacent tennis courts. And, all of a sudden, St Johns’ total had accelerated to 174 from 30 overs. Which left the visitors somewhat shell-shocked and disorientated as they consoled themselves with sandwiches and cakes, which were – of course – heavenly.

Not only did the home skipper provide a final batting display the likes of which have not been seen by this correspondent since watching Sir Garfield Sobers in the 1970s but he also opened the bowling, kept wicket, umpired and – quite possibly – made the teas, ran the score-book and serviced the team’s womenfolk too. In fairness, he did sportingly remove himself from the bowling attack after just two searching overs, which saw Lodge pinned to one end, with Barnes gratefully observing from the other. However, Lodge was enjoying the tussle so much, he invited St John-The-Skipper to resume a few overs later, which he did.

Barnes’ return to the Sloths’ top order was very welcome. Batting with patience and determination, he disdainfully dismissed anything at all short or wide – or, indeed, over-pitched – to the cover boundary, before top-edging to point just short of his 50. Lodge, too, made a purposeful start but failed to convert this into quite so big a score.

Howard then assumed the Freshmeat role, harrying and hustling to maintain the run-rate in characteristic kamikaze style. Luckily, he was partnered by Hewston, who – possibly still smarting from the pasting in his final over of bowling (oops, wasn’t going to mention that…) – is never one to settle for one when three will do. Not only that but he went on to build a commanding innings, full of flare and technical savvy. In stark contrast, then, it was a joy to witness Reynolds (?) and Bond continue in slightly more cavalier but nonetheless effective style.

At one point, with Bond reluctant to emulate the Howard-Hewston sprintathon, it looked as though Sloths might just manage to engineer another defeat. Indeed, Hewes – padded-up and raring to go – had to be physically restrained as he looked-on with hunger and dismay. However, Mr Bond knew he had overs to spare, combined with the sheer bloody-mindedness to send anything wayward to whichever boundary came to view. And Sloths – finally – prevailed.

Now that Sloths have tasted victory (, a delicious egg & cress sarny, some crisps, a flapjack and a chocolate brownie), will they be able to now build a winning streak? Will Johnny-fresher-than persuade his better half that his softball should be augmented by a harder one? Could St John-the-Skipper by another Sloth in waiting? And where the hell are my glasses…?

These and other questions are sure to be ignored as the season progresses. Roll-on Hampset! Press-on Guiness. Under-arm-spray Ram. Er… sorry; it’s been a long weekend.

Mary Berry, Food Correspondent, Slothful Times

Editorial note: Lodge bowled two overs, took four wickets and went for one run.

Rooted Oak Wood Knot Leave

What a glorious sight it was to behold, yesterday evening in near-perfect conditions, to see men in whites limbering up, practising their catching and mentally preparing before another encounter at the majestic KES fields. Just a shame that none of them was a Sloth. Indeed, come six o’clock, the home side could barely muster a captain. Fortunately, though, they did have a tosser on hand to perform the pre-match duties. This turned out to be a mere formality, though, as only Royal Oak had sufficient players to man the field, which they duly did.

Stepping into the captaincy breach, Howard took it upon himself to elect Madeye and Bonder to open the batting. In fairness, these were the only two Sloths besides himself in attendance at that point, and he was needed to manipulate the scorebook. Predictably, the scoring began at a relatively sedate pace but was nonetheless steady enough. And by the time Bond laid down his sword, there were teammates waiting and ready to pick up the pace.

With the pitch sure and steady, following KES’s recent loam-improvements, and the outfield swift, runs began to accrue. And continue to accrue. Hewes, showing his usual distain for what was generally accurate bowling, swung the bat with gleeful abandon. Lewis dashed off yet another 25-plus to make up the Madeye-induced shortfall. Macca took delight in finding the short boundary. Newbie Tom overcame his initial frustrations at not quite timing shots by proceeding to hoist two sixes, one of which was duly ignored by scorer Howard. And Frith almost ran himself to an early grave (which, fortunately, he has conveniently located nearby) as he cut, drove and backed up like a man possessed (…).

All of which took Sloths to a dizzying score of 159. Yes, you read that correctly: one hundred and fifty nine. Unassailable, of course. Even in these conditions. Of course. So, I think we’ll leave it there. Thanks for reading.

But no. You want, naturally, to hear the rest of the detail. Of Hewes’ glorious first-ball wicket. Of Frith’s equally glorious – nay heavenly – first-ball wicket. Of the sound of leather on poly-carbonate as Bond proved he was finally wearing a box. Of Liam’s flight and guile as he pinned-down Oak’s opening duo.

Of Tom’s heroic bowling come-back, practically delivering a maiden in his first competitive over in 15 years. Of Macca’s consistently threatening accuracy.
Well, all of that happened and was magnificent, following – as it did – such a gratifying display of fine batsmanship.

Yet, somehow, Royal Oak managed to reach and, indeed, exceed the total required for them to steal victory. Nobody quite knows how this came to pass but pass it did. Sloths bowled well, fielding was by-and-large tight and energetic. Bond was unflappable behind the stumps, saving many a run through sheer balls. And, having failed to distract the batsmen with a display of country dancing last week, Sloths this time had an entire football team moving behind the bowler’s arm. But to no avail.

The Oaks remained mighty. They had four retirees and even their flakier batsmen managed to hit boundaries from what were actually decent deliveries. In the final over, and with a predictable flourish, a four was firmly struck to bring the visitors’ total to (whisper it… very quietly) 162.

So, all in all, this was a game for the connoisseur. It had a little bit of everything. Just not the win Sloth’s had anticipated. Though a little dejected in the clubhouse afterwards, the home side had to concede they were simply out-gunned. Individually, there were some fine performances and team morale was good on the pitch. As a wise, crisp-munching, man once nearly said: “Cricket is a simple game: twenty-two men throw around a ball for 40 overs and, at the end, Sloths always lose.”

For (near-) factual information, please refer to the score card. No doubt Captain Howard will provide a copy of same at the web site we all frequent with such regularity.

As ever, questions will be asked. Should spectators of football matches on the far pitch be required to wear head protection? Are visiting players actually allowed to perform circus skills in order to retrieve a lost ball? Is it appropriate for the opposing captain to give a warning when a senior Sloth is backing up? And how the f**k did we lose THAT????!!!!

No doubt, all these and more will be answered as Sloths build on what has been a characterful and [insert your own euphemism here] start to the season. Go Sloths!

Douglas Adams, Professor of Improbability, Slothful Times

YEALM BY VIDEO

Late Devonian Mass Extinction
as Headon thrives in Hadean Conditions

As the mercury pushed 30oC, a strong Bathampton side converged upon the KES fields for the first Sunday fixture of the season to take on new opposition Yealm. The Devonian visitors were on the last leg of their tour and turned up slightly late and one suspects slightly hungover. Pre-match mind games were already underway as the arriving team were treated to a frankly misleading sight of Sloth fielding practice drills and a seven year old belting the ball with aggressive intent. Captain Franks won the toss for BCC and charitably put the jaded tourists straight in to field in absolutely baking conditions.

Sloth openers Hewston and O’Herlihy the Kestrel wasted no time in setting the tone, reaping 7 and 8 from the first two overs with consummate ease. The outfield was lightning, and the pitch had been baked solid. More of the same followed with both batsmen oozing class and boundaries, and it was hard to see where a wicket was going to come from. Hewston then fished at a wide one, snicked it, and kicked himself all the way back to the pavilion having scored a useful 17. Lodge, now widely reknowned as the Chris Tavare of Wales, strode out and made an immediate statement with a cover drive for four. Feeling that on merit, the Welsh were clearly over-represented in this crack Lions Sloth team, O’Herlihy fronted up for his Irish kinsmen and absolutely spanked an on-drive to the rope – a belting shot. The runs continued to climb as the boiling conditions offered no respite for the fielders or indeed the batsmen.

A change of bowler saw some good pace up the hill from Price, and immediately it paid dividends. The Kestrel was tempted into a false stroke and was snaffled having scored a belligerent 26. Freshmeat joined the fray to make the case for the Scots contingent and was very nearly done first ball as Price sent another rozzer up the hill. Discretion prevailed, and with good left-arm stuff coming down the hill too from Hendreegh, the rate slowed somewhat. Lodge retook the strike though, and sent price to the boundary in consecutive balls – a perfect square drive followed by a bang-on square cut. Frustration followed as the bowler then sent the next ball for four byes down leg. Price won in the end though, nicking Lodge’s off-stump. However, the runs conceded seemed to spell the end of Price, for which the batsmen were rather grateful. Lodge went for 28 from 22 balls and Harper rejoined the battle and batted and ran like the Harper of old. Actually, that’s tosh – he batted brilliantly like the Harper of old, but also ran extremely well between the wickets. Harper added 21 from 14; Fresh on 52 was told to retire at the end of the over, and got caught next ball. Bonder hit some boundaries but also got tied down by some good bowling; The Colonel batted like a maniac while Bonder accumulated sedately, and by the close of play 199 had been posted with extras.

A rare wicket maiden from Fresh commenced proceedings down the hill, while Colonel Mustard started from the canal end with some miserable tripe that was duly dispatched. However, unfortunately for Ant, the Colonel tightened up his act after the first over. Yealm’s no.3 biffer, J Martin (del Potro?) biffed a few until he was caught for 19. Stitson followed suit as the Colonel conjured up a wicket in his final over, much to Ant’s delight. The Wlesh Maestro and Connor then took over the mantle applying pressure with some tight bowling. On a day of a sound all-round team bowling performance, Headon’s spell was exceptional, and got better and better, his last three overs going for 3,2 and finishing with a maiden. Upon such days one is moved to verse…

Yes. I remember Headon—
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat his express-train bowling drew up
Unwontedly. It was late mid June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
Various batsmen left and came
On the bare wicket. What I saw
Was Headon—only the bowler

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a stumpchat sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Somerset and Wiltshire.

Lodge knicked a wicket and Headon clean bowled one, and frankly could have had several more. This effectively knocked the stuffing out of the tourists, now pink in both shirt and face. Hewes and O’Herlihy then followed up with yet more pressure, a maiden from Hewes and just 2 from the Kestrel’s first overs. Hewes snicked another. This left death bowling specialists Evetts and Franks to polish off the remaining 2 overs. Ed ‘Where he?’ Evetts sent down a baffling barrage of balls and eventually elicited the exit of the hitherto obdurate N Ross for a well fought 38. Time ran out for Yealm’s chase, ending with 155 from 30 overs. In broiling conditions, a fine victory was wrapped up by the Sloths through excellent bowling pressure maintained throughout the Yealm innings. Four catches were held too – credits to Hewes and whoever else held one.

Edward Thomas
Wastrel and Sports Correspondent for the Bathampton Literary Review








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