It was one of those genial Devon afternoons when even the clouds seemed content to loiter as idle spectators. The sun shone in a well-mannered fashion — warm but not sweltering — while a lazy breeze wandered across the ground, carrying with it the scent of freshly baked Monte Carlo biscuits and the faint promise of a tranquil afternoon’s cricket.
Modbury’s captain, with a twinkle of foresight, won the toss and elected to field first, generously inviting the visiting Cornwood 5th XI to have a bash with the bat. What followed was a merry spectacle of village cricket in full flourish.
First Innings: Cornwood CC 5th XI – 94 all out (23.3 overs)
Cornwood’s openers strode to the crease with commendable purpose, but their resolve was soon tested. The new ball swung and seamed under the guileful command of Modbury’s bowlers, and wickets began to tumble in rapid succession. Hatch struck with almost immediate effect – indeed, Hatch (2–2) removed one opener for a duck before the batsman had managed so much as a forward defensive – and Collidge (2–10) soon trapped the other opener for a meagre single. Within minutes, the visitors were wobbling like a bicycle with a loose wheel.
Through the clatter of wickets, Modbury’s bowlers distinguished themselves in style. Collidge (2–10) bowled with the frugal zeal of a banker counting pennies, scarcely giving away a run. Hatch (2–2), fresh from his early wicket, delivered a spell so straight and stingy one suspected he might start charging batsmen rent for lingering at the crease. Not to be outdone, Merchant (2–10) claimed two wickets of his own, his rapid deliveries arriving with all the subtlety of a well-flung brick through a greenhouse window.
With a rout so thorough it might have had Napoleon himself breaking into a celebratory jig, Modbury decided to rest their usual bowling aristocracy and give a couple of the less-experienced chaps a whirl. This may have been an act of mercy toward Cornwood’s battered batsmen, but it was nothing of the sort for the suffering spectators.
What followed was, in the kindest possible terms, a brief comedic interlude starring Williams and Phillips. Between them they sent down enough errant deliveries to keep the umpire’s arms whirling like a windmill in a midsummer storm, generously plumping up Cornwood’s score with a bounty of extras. One could almost believe Williams and Phillips were trying to keep things sporting by scattering a few bonus wides about the place. Determined not to be left out of the carnival spirit, Sloman positively leapt — or rather collapsed — at the chance to spill a couple of catches.
Happily, these charitable gestures did little real damage. For all the slip-ups, dropped chances, and flying wides, the visitors were still bundled out for a mere 94. Modbury retired to the interval brimming with optimism — not least because Mr. Sloman had, with rare tact, swapped his customary culinary critiques for a generous helping of praise aimed squarely at the cake table.
Second Innings: Modbury CC 1st XI – 95/2 (17.2 overs)
Chasing a modest target of 95, Modbury’s batsmen might have been forgiven for regarding the task as a gentle afternoon constitutional. Yet cricket, ever the mischievous prankster, delights in strewing banana skins beneath the feet of the unwary. Opener Bell, eager to get things rolling, drove crisply enough — only to see a Cornwood fielder produce a miraculous snatch from thin air before Bell had properly settled (perhaps still pondering a stray crumb from tea). Stoic in defeat, Bell consoled himself with the wisdom of Marcus Aurelius — that into every life a little rain must fall — and could soon be found back at the tea tent, cheerfully mopping up the remaining leftovers.
At the other end, Speed was the picture of poised aggression. Like a warhorse at the sound of the bugle, he charged into his innings with merry abandon, living up to his surname by motoring along at a brisk clip. He peppered the boundary rope eight times, each stroke as sweetly timed as a soprano hitting her top note at the village choir festival. By the time Speed had marched to an unbeaten 40, Modbury were cruising serenely, and any lingering Cornwood hopes of an upset had vanished like lemonade at a midsummer picnic.
There was just the faintest whiff of worry when Hatch, after a sprightly 8, wandered down the pitch once too often and was smartly stumped. But any remaining flicker of doubt was snuffed out by the entrance of Coates. Coates, perhaps eager to get the job done before the queue at the bar grew long, unleashed a flurry of boundaries in an undefeated 31 off just 20 balls. He struck six fours in no time, batting with the freedom of a schoolboy who’s finished his homework early. Together, Speed and Coates hurried the chase with almost cavalier disdain, ensuring the victory was wrapped up with plenty of daylight to spare.
Modbury Triumphant, Despite Themselves
Modbury’s triumph was never in serious doubt – even if they did their level best to add a touch of farce to the proceedings. Winning by eight wickets with overs to spare, the home side could afford to chuckle at the day’s little mishaps: the dropped catches, the gale-borne wides, and other assorted follies that had punctuated an otherwise dominant performance. After all, a victory spiced with a dash of comedy is very much in keeping with the spirit of village cricket.
As the late afternoon sun cast lengthening shadows across the ground, the players exchanged handshakes and retired for a well-earned rest. Laughter echoed from the tea tent as the Modbury men cheerfully revisited the highlights and lowlights – from Sloman’s slippery fingers to the creative bowling of Messrs. Williams and Phillips. In the end, cricket was the winner — along with Modbury, of course — and the 1st XI will march on to the next fixture with confidence high, spirits buoyant, and perhaps a shared determination to leave future overs in the safe hands of the bowling aristocracy.
Leave a Reply