Away to Wembury Grasshoppers
A Late Summer Evenings Tale
Off to a windy Wembury for our only Friday night fixture of the season. The shadows casted by the surrounding trees already reached across the outfield scattered with dried leaves. The drought still with a tight grip. A hard, arid place for visitors, I do not recollect a win here in my memory.
But we found hope, and luck was already on our side ( or so we thought) as V.C. Lee started with a win at the toss. Will we end with a win or a loss? Comedy and tragedy together in the pot of luck. A struggle of heroes and villains, but a play all the same, a game, nothing of consequence and much ado about nothing.
Before we started the first struggle was to get a full team. Captain Compston should be thanked for his efforts and for recruiting the Ermington All-Stars, John Kerridge, Tommy Moore and Rob Giles.
With enthusiasm, we went out to bat, Kerridge to open and Speed to stand and watch. Four, four and four. A blistering start with JK sprinting to a score of 30 retired including two imperious sixes. We were on our way.
Ethan followed and at a more steady rate also reached 25 and retired with a flourishing 6 to finish his innings.
Speed, Coates and Giles managed only four runs apiece to make way for Compston supported by Tommy Moore. A period of steady run accumulation and sensible shot playing finishing with 20 and 19 each respectively.
In amongst the batting, unfortunately V.C. Lee was handed a golden duck, but that is not the end of his story.
Dan and Callum finished off the innings with many quick singles to finish on 133 setting the Wembury 134 to win.
With the Sun now dipping well behind the trees and the dark shadows, reaching their long fingers across the grass, extracting the light and the warmth from the field of play we ran out to defend our total with spirit.
Spirit, the spirit of cricket is always present in the village cricket field like a scone with a good layer of creamy warmth and good humour topped with a thin layer of red competitive spirit, or as we are in Devon, maybe the other way round. The competitive spirit is also always present usually sat grumpy on the boundary rope waiting for an opportunity to get fully involved in the game.
So with all our spirits high, Lee got us underway and quickly gave back the golden duck to a Wembley opening batsmen providing a large W in the scorebook.
W is a regular letter to appear on the score sheet. W for wicket, woe to the batsmen and a win to the bowler. W is also for wide, this time woe for the bowler and at this moment in time two runs added to the score. Not a usual rule and not an important point, at the moment.
So back to the bowling and fielding. Yes, fielding the third skill of cricket and here once again heroes and villains emerge. Tom Coates, a more lean version of Mr. Incredible, perhaps as quick as the flash, would not let any ball pass him to the boundary. Alas, with no tea and buttered fingers to provide an excuse Speed, Compston, Kerridge, and Speed again spilled the overflowing cup of catches. There may have been others too.
But all was not lost wickets were taken by Rob Giles but unfortunately not by Tommy Moore. The match (now not a game) was precariously poised for a thrilling finish. Time for Compston to join the fray (not a match anymore). a fantastic spell of three overs taking three wickets for 12 runs and we had the advantage. It looked as though the match may not last until the final over. But we still had the penultimate over which turned out to be quite ultimate, but not in the way we wanted. Sloman valiantly came onto bowl with a plethora of injuries. Wembury took advantage and were teetering on the edge of victory at the start of the last over.
The last over, sometimes like the final act always has a twist. I believe they required 5 to win. Enter The Fray (for battle it now was) Callum, the Viking, already a superhero. A single of the first floor and then a wide…
Here competitive spirit took charge and the spirit of cricket walked off in dismay. A last minute rule change, not even the spirit of cricket was expecting this. The W meant something different. Some words were said and some voices were raised. The cauldron had been nicely stirred and was simmering, the ghost of Macbeth, a sidekick to the competitive spirit, would have been proud.
A wicket. This time the W stayed as a W in the way we had always known it. Last ball, nobody was really sure what the score was, whether they had already won or whether they still needed more runs. I couldn’t see the scoreboard as a red mist seemed to cover my eyes and a black cloud circled over my head. A four, or was it a six, did it fly off the handle or did it hit the roof, or was that someone else.
The finish to a brilliant match, we all applauded our victors, shook hands and walked off arm in off to Wendy Wembley for a puff to Wendy Wembley off to Wendy off toarm to share a pint and a jovial chat.
In retrospect, I wish this is the end of the story. Hands were shaken at least but bitter is the taste of seemingly unfair defeat and ugly was the outcome. Which ever way the rules were applied Wembury were the victors and I congratulate them.
This game should be remembered as probably the best game of the season. A tight hard fought game against a good side.
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