As on any good Sunday, the mighty MCC met to apply bat to ball and ball to wicket.
Fearing the journey to be more arduous than it in fact transpired to be, most of the team arrived at Whitchurch Wanderers (the ground shared with Elephants’ Nest, our generous hosts) slightly before sunrise.
Hopes were high, and the team was in good spirits. The field was a barren and scorched abyss, nowhere near round, with the wicket located exactly in the far right-hand-side. This offered, and threatened, a very, VERY short boundary shot.
Happily, this off-set, off-centre pentagon was propped up by a fully stocked bar.
Pre-match chatter cursed the Modbury performance early on: Lemmings happily estimated a batting score of 225.
Captain Compston unveiled his secret strategy, and swore us all to sacred oath, which I am breaking now to impart this ancient wisdom to you: “Tails never fails”. Indeed, tails failed us not, and Compston elected to bat first.
We knew we were among true village cricketers when our hosts’ President was firstly late to the field, and then immediately seen pint-in-hand at Long Off.
The first fifteen minutes turned out to be more deadly than a pool party at Michael Barrymore’s house. Our hosts later claimed that typically their catching game is poor; what happened yesterday for them was miraculous, and disastrous for us.
Speed, a Modbury batting institution, took duck off the menu, before being caught immediately for one. His opening partner Bell fared slightly better, with a first ball 4, then two ran runs alongside new partner Clayton before being promptly bowled out.
The Captain took to the field (and thankfully, there he stayed). The partnership was tragically short lived; Clayton added two much needed fours, and three runs before being summarily dismissed by a (somewhat unnecessary) diving catch having scored from five of the six balls he faced.
Next to walk out was Merchant, uniting Sheriff and Deputy on the wicket. After a rocky start, and having lost stalwart bats early on, the MCC needed to get some points on WWCC’s fancy digital scoreboard. Compston took a defensive stance, and dotted balls for days, saving swings and sweeps for sure things. This was a much needed anchor, and was the bread-and-butter of scoring for us on a tough day at the office. Merchant took a four, a one and a pair before being caught at gully.
Replacing Merchant facing, the confident form of Lemmings swaggered to wicket, giving Big Willow Energy. Alas, an erstwhile high run scorer also fell to the quick hands and unerring catches of the Elephants Nesters, having added a single run to the board. Somewhat less swagger for the walk off.
At this point, the nerves of the MCC were in tatters; five of the top order had been dismissed having only added 26 to Compston’s efforts.
After last weeks’ debacle, a more sober McGill took to the field. The Skipper now gave his fourth partner in as many minutes the guiding words that would echo through the afternoon; unless you can safely clear Saturn, just block, and for the love of God, stay in. McGill took these words to heart, and safely faced four balls, scoring a buy-one, get-one-free 2, 4, 1 before being caught and bowled for the first time in his storied career.
Compston greeted his fifth partner to the wicket, conscious of the fact that your author is a rank amateur with the finesse and skill of a one-legged man in an arse kicking contest, with urgent warning. Defend. Block. Don’t do anything stupid, and STAY IN.
Taking these words to heart, Price scored a four off the first ball, having swung blindly in the likely direction of the incoming. A score started to be drawn on the board, helped along by a gifted bye-4.Two further fours and a one later, Price went the way of McGill and was caught and bowled, bringing the non-skipper-score to 46 from seven men.
Trevethan earned much needed runs, and steadied the ship for the remainder of the innings, scoring 22, from four fours and hard-fought singles. Leaving the wicket in safe hands, Compston retired at 51, saving a towering 6 for his last swing.
Tenth man Tom “a l’orange” Hatch also heeded Skip’s warning, and took two sensible blocks before charging down the third ball and delivering it crisply to Wates, the pint-wielding president.
Eager eleventh man Howard “Crispy Pancakes” Williams also had duck on the menu, and was only the second man lost to a bowled wicket.
Bearing the weight of the runs, Compston, a man made more of sweat than sinew returned to the field, reuniting himself with Trevethan, the only other man not out. Cap’s cap showing high-tide, Compston added seventeen runs in his second innings at bat, bringing a beleaguered Modbury to a respectable 155 after 27 overs, before Trevethan was lost to a seemingly very down-leg LBW, stranding Compston not-out as Modbury’s Victoria Cross recipient.
Elephant’s Nest by this point are known for three things; they have an odd name for a cricket team, they don’t bloody drop anything, and their teas are stuff of legend.
Williams, a figure absent from much of the season so far, set out from Bag End solely on the promise of teas at Elephant’s Nest; it was his Prancing Pony.
The Nesters again showed off their facilities by serving food so freshly from their pitchside kitchen it was in fact too hot to eat. Special mention to Grandmother Nest, who woke specially at 5AM to bake scones.
Defending a respectable 155, Modbury took to the sunbaked field.
Hatch got proceedings under way, and conceded only two runs in the first over. Nest’s second batsman saw one over only when Trevethan caught him from Lemmings, giving both a much needed boost, and the only catch to the MCC.
Lemmings claimed another scalp in quick succession with an LBW to Atkinson, having him out for 14 runs.
A jubilant Speed saw off Ingram, putting a stop to Ingram’s climbing tally, showcasing both excellent bowling and pirouette.
Merchant’s bowling was on the money, and lightning-fast all afternoon, and yielded fewer wickets than it deserved. Lemmings, his swagger renewed, set the field to the inch, before bowling out two more batters with no need for a carefully set field.
Clayton and Price wore out shoe leather at a rate of knots covering a busy tract of land between long-off to sweeper, denying a stream of fours to EN. As ever, Price believing cricket is not a game for the hands, produced more specialist foot and floor work.
McGill, enthused by the floor routine added his own attempt and whilst allowing an easy four an unencumbered roll across the ropes, succeeded only in ending his own season early by breaking his thumb. Credit where due, McGill saw out the game, and fielded much more successfully with one hand than two, and did stop a boundary with his ice pack to rapturous applause from even the opposing team.
Merchant took Henwood out in a complicated sequence, involving a hit, a fumble, a mild scuffle, and the batsman clocking his own stumps. Henwood was not happy about this, and could be heard from neighbouring parishes disparaging the sport, those who play it, and the world in general which had so cruelly conspired against him.
Speed had Jarvis out for a lowly two runs, slowing EN as the game moved into the closing stages.
Having kept them under control and dismissed their batters readily in the opening overs, the same luck was not to be had as the score marched inexorably towards the target. A flurry of excellent fielding kept the run rate low, but there were simply too many overs left and too many opportunities for runs to be scored. Bell’s run-out of Crosby was a thing of beauty, and was the last dismissal of the game.
Williams was also apparently present during fielding, although reports differ.
The Nesters got it done in 28 overs, and were gracious in victory, lending their medic to an uncharacteristically quiet McGill, who had turned down the machinations of Compston, who had emerged from his as yet unwritten-off work van, gleefully clutching a large needle, and a worryingly neon bottle of bovine anti-inflammatory.
A rollercoaster of a game with a heavy toll on opening bats for both teams, but a deserved victory for Elephant’s Nest, and a grand day out for all, except Henwood, who is apparently still cross, the hospitalised McGill, and Williams, who hasn’t been seen since tea-time.
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