How Many captains does it take…?

The first Sunday game of the season is often played on a soggy pitch under grey skies. But yesterday at Prior Park, the sun shone and the pristine strip was more Kolkata than Old Trafford. The hosts here were St John’s church. Which was as well, as if there were ever a day on which to enquire “more tea vicar?” this was it. It’s thirsty work, fielding in the afternoon sunshine. So, Vice-Captain Porridge advised Skipper Painter – on learning he’d won the toss – to bat first. Jim elected to field.

Opening the bowling with newbies “Ish and Bash”, one wondered whether a new kid’s TV series may be on the cards. But facing this duo certainly wasn’t childs play (see what I did there?). Ish set the standard, with pace and accuracy. Bash hooped the ball around and provided the first breakthrough, the ball nicking-through to Porridge, ever-alert behind the stumps. Ish then clattered the wickets for the second (or it may have been the other way round – I’m not Andy bloody Salzmann).

dansette player

Fielding was uncharacteristically tidy, with Ish and Madeye kept busy on the short boundary and ‘the Colonel’ (no – I’ve no idea either) James making many a run-saving stop at long-off. Kestrel took an especially impressive catch to dismiss one of St John’s more threatening batsmen, stretching for an over-pitched delivery by Dansette (just made that one up – Dan from Hampset: you’re welcome*). Kestrel then retired to the deep boundary, where he shepherded the ball over the rope to help the faltering run-rate along.

* It’s Offsiders – not Hampset [Ed] – maybe ‘Danoff’?

Joe-not-Gillings put in an impressive spell and caused St John’s opener to call for a helmet, when he bowled possibly the slowest bouncer in cricketing history. From a good length, at modest pace, the ball took off as though fired in short by an angry Freshmeat on tour (just checking you’re paying attention, Johnny). Nic ‘man-of-letters’, after a few range-finders, produced possibly the sweetest dismissal, finding the outside edge with a rising delivery off a perfect length, which was gratefully pouched by Porridge.

wild celebrations

Kestrel also caused the batsmen difficulty with the ball (and may have taken a wicket, I wasn’t paying attention). So, when Ed sauntered-in off a couple of paces, they would have been forgiven for breathing a sigh of relief. Except they couldn’t. Ed was on the money from ball one. By his own admission, he has no idea what each delivery will do, so the batsmen have no chance. A couple of quicker, straight deliveries fizzed through to the eagerly waiting Porridge. One of which was snatched, at full stretch, as Luke dived acrobatically over his right shoulder. But the wild celebrations were curtailed when the batsman vehemently denied having had anything to do with it.

After 17 overs in the field (this being a 35-over game), all concerned were relieved as drinks were announced. But nothing was forthcoming. Is St John, perhaps, the patron-saint of frugality? No matter, all had come prepared with water bottles (or – in Dansette’s case – bottles of Gem). And there was always tea to look forward to at the end of the innings. But no. Not so much as a cuppa was proffered, let-alone a cucumber sandwich. If only we’d had Jonnty on hand. He could have maybe rustled up some loaves and fishes.

to the slaughter

Was this a ploy to send a depleted batting side out to the slaughter? If it was, it sorely back-fired. With 160 runs required, openners Ish and Kestrel knocked-off well over half of these by themselves, each returning undefeated to the dry pavilion. Kestrel, in particular, expressed himself with abandon, breaking the monotony of fours with the odd six for good measure.

James looked likely to continue the rout but fell to a quick, straight delivery. Then St John deployed their secret weapon: a player so youthful as to make our Joe seem positively venerable. Porridge strode out to face, exclaiming “don’t let me get out to the Kid”. He did. Playing all round a Dalley-Smith-esque bomb drop, the resulting sharp stumping caused Luke to pause and congratulate his fellow wicket keeper before leaving the field.

proper drink?

Which left Madeye and Nic to finish the job. The former narrowly escaped annihilation from the quick right-hand that had removed James. Then the two settled in to squeak the remaining few runs via pads, edges and the occasional, accidental, legitimate shot. Job done. With plenty of overs remaining and without recourse to the masterful batting of Captain Painter.

And now – finally – a proper drink. But no! Somehow, Prior Park’s multi-million-pound facility appears not to include a bar. Or – if it does – it was not made available. Instead we were invited by oppo to join them at the Cider House in town. This is conveniently situated in the centre of Bath, amid a complicated one-way system, where parking is not an option.

Arriving on two wheels, after a not-inconsiderable detour from the route back to Bathampton, this correspondent can report there was not a cricketer in sight. Or – if there was – they must have been part of the under-21 squad. What a sad disappointment after such a glorious afternoon. Roll-on Priston, I say!

Michal Buerk, Third-World Correspondent, Slothful Times

questions remain

As always, following such a well-won contest, questions remain:

• If Porridge takes a catch in the forest and there’s no-one there to hear it – is it out?
• Should Kestrel’s 50-not-out stand if he was helped over the line by a Sloth fielder on loan?
• Do Sloths have enough musicians to put out a famine-relief charity single for St John’s? (“Do They Know It’s Tea Time At All”)?
• Will “Ish & Bash” be commissioned by Cbeebies before the end of the season?

Answers, please, on a postcard and deposited in an empty tea urn, outside St John’s Church, Widcombe.