Join me, Dear Reader, on a journey of intrigue, athleticism, stalwart heroes and child murder.
To mark the Summer Solstice, the mighty MCC celebrated as the pagans did; with a 30-over game away to Holbeton.
Nestled in the luscious green fields of the Flete Estate, this Grade II listed, and outwardly opulent pitch allayed any signs of being ostentatious, when we were greeted by only two peacocks strutting at the gate. A poultry effort indeed.
The field on which this clash of titans was to be held transpired to be the not-so traditional four-sided, right-angled oval, offering a variety of differing distances required to achieve a Four, and more complicated still, a stout fence, which was treated as a hard-and-fast boundary to any hopeful Six travelling at less than head-height as it left the field of play.
Winning the toss, Skips decided that Holbeton would suffer the worst of the sun’s punishment, and set them to field directly.
Following in the footsteps of the international kick-foot showdown, play would be interrupted every ten overs for squash the colour of egg-yolk and nearly as thick in the form of Hydration Breaks. Cricket as ever maintaining pace as a modern and forward thinking sport.
Ten and two-half men journeyed to uphold the honour of the MCC. Our first to bat was in fact more captive than volunteer, when Ewan Grewal strayed carelessly close to the crease on a Sunday he had sworn not to play. Having ostensibly attended to spectate with wife, and two young children, Grewal was pinned down, stripped, and forced into whites and pads and sent promptly out to bat; Merchant’s bat here earned its greatest honours in the hands of another, as Grewal promptly put 40 runs on the board, and retired Not-Out after 5x Fours, 1x Six and fourteen various and sundry ran runs. Grewal then resumed his planned Sunday, and promptly left the in-field, the out-field, and cricket in general.
Consolidating on Grewal’s stirling work, Captain John Compston takes centre stage, birthday-present-bat in hand, and is immediately removed from play by a deft catch having hung no new cards on the score board.
Ethan Bell took 3x Fours, and totalled 28 runs, banking excellent points for the team before falling to Leman.
Tom “Ten-Toes” Hatch returned from injury and was able to match the Captain’s score at bat.
Bell paired with Grewal and took 28 runs including 3x Fours and fell to Holbeton’s Tom Leman, who would later claim another victim at the stumps.
Standing longest under the punishing June heat, 23 overs in total, previously concussed-Clayton outlasted bowler after bowler taking 23 runs from 200 balls.
After Clayton and Bell’s elimination, the final pair to bat both went home immortalised in red ink, Merchant raking in 13 runs, and a late-entrance from Trevethan earned a final two runs.
MCC finished 30 overs with 126 on the board, and four men still on the bench.
Tea-time. A mix of sandwich and cake. Well received with the possible exception of egg-mayonaise, which sweated and dribbled in the 27 degree heat, and tempted few.
Our team now comprises a short-field of ten men as we take to the pitch. The first ball is thrown by Compston as a South West Water truck enters the out-field at speeds only achievable on rough ground in company vehicles, heralding the very welcome arrival of Lane “The Merciless” – more on him later. The team swells to 11 men.
Early in fielding, we are treated to a new spectacle. The recently 50 James Sloman introduced the team to his latest hobby and alter-ego – Mexican magician “El Slappo”. His latest trick – the disappearing fielder! As the ball closes directly with Slappuccino, with a sure stop and return to the bowler, in a puff of smoke and mysticism, El Slappo is nowhere to be found, presumably transported magically to the safe confines of his magical bag of tricks – a purple and wheeled case now confined back to the skip from whence it came.
Play was not blessed by the efforts of your author, who having learned hard lessons at the battle of Kingsbridge Field, aimed to remain unblooded, and on foot. In one instance, having been taken by surprise by a slow and obvious ball, aided the fielding side by missing with hand and foot, and instead pirouetting worthy of the Bolshoi Ballet, and falling to the welcomely soft and mossy ground having had no impact on the direction or speed of said orb.
The men of Holbeton fell like wheat before the scythe to a relentless pace of bowled and caught wickets. Lee-Oldfield bowled fast and straight and gave Compston a catch described as anywhere from “actually quite good” to “legendary” depending whether you asked for comment from the team, or its captain.
On the subject of legendary catched, no honest reporting of today’s bout would be complete without mention of wicket-keeper Bell’s superb near-catch – a majestic dive, the ball firmly caught, securing a well needed….. continuation of batting as Bell landed and the ball was released and scattered to the four winds.
Two further batsmen fell to the onslaught pitched by Lee-Oldfield.
Slappuccino returned to the field and took four wickets, earning him the coveted Magician (and Man) of the Match.
The Skipper showed the way, and put in another catch rated “good” to “godlike”, depending on story-teller.
Merchant’s bowling, like Collidge’s deserved more scalps than were taken, and Merchant’s greatest achievement came from catching red-hot artillery that left him near-one-armed for the next few minutes, stitching marked for ever-more across his palm; a stigmata at the stumps. I hear the Invictus Games are coming later this year Lee.
Slaps also took a near-catch that left him as one-handed as a “Dorset, 5 Miles” road sign, and left the batting team unencumbered.
As the overs draw to a close, season-debutant Lane takes to the ball. At this point, the game is still alive – Holbeton need 36 runs to win, and have six balls to play. The field is cold, grabby and uncaring for a Four, and harsher still against a Six – the high-fenced-square-oval means Sixes have alluded nigh-on all before the crease.
Afore him, the towering might of pre-teen Tyler Hammett, uncowed by a batsman of this stature, Lane shatters Hammett’s bails, and innocence in less than six balls.
Lane statistically the best bowler of the game, but at what cost?
One Over bowled, one bats-child out. Lane stopped to tell the child that Father Christmas isn’t real, and his dad is the tooth-fairy before letting him leave the field, his innocence in tatters.
Fish faced the last balls for Holbeton, and retired not out, falling short of the challenge laid before them by MCC, leaving the field 96/8, some 30 runs short.
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