If any ground represents the Woodpecker Family, it is Headley. A stunning green oval hewn out of the Box Hill National Trust woodland in the glorious Surrey Hills, it is a crucible of memories - of friends, families, and times past. We have a wonderful rapport with the generous and kindly local hosts that means each game is a treasured reunion, often blessed with supporters, Peckerettes and Peckerinhos.
With many key batsmen ruled out via an assortment of commitments to Peckerettes, Chairman POB was left with little option but to play an unconventional 8 seamer and a spinner attack, and so chose to insert the hosts on a green top with a very short boundary on the road-side.
Spinach roared in with his trademark sling and struck first ball, peckering opener Pickering with a straight skiddy swinger. A momentous start to the day garnered belief that our plan was sound. At the other end, an intensely grumpy Cat was on point immediately as well, bowling a spell tighter than the chuff of a Manx kitten. He would snaffle the other opener with an unplayable swinging LBW shout.
As opening salvoes go, this was premium Pecker content. Line and length bowling, smart fielding, and even a full complement of players, the Peckers purred through the first 20 overs like a well-oiled Bentley scything through Surrey sunshine. Even Horse, famed mainly for the variation in his bowling, hit the spot, finding an edge to a diving one-handed catch from Tiddles at second slip, removing the dangerous Maywood. I had been joking that we had broken the record for weightiest Aussie slip cordon in history, but Tiddles showed me with a glorious grab
Aussie Slip Cordon + former Pecker keeping great Jim ‘trigger’ Baker
Motty tied up an end with a miserliness that had treasurer Cuddy nodding with pride. A frustrated Headley retired to drinks after 20 overs at 75-3.
It was at this point, bluntly, that the wheels began to come off. Beeaaron was turning his arm for the first time this season, but still showed some guile and earned two fine LBW decisions, the Pecker fielding performed a sharp reversion to the mean: dropped catches, missed run outs, bickering and chaotic field positioning as people failed to recall the left / right hand combinations. The eyes of the brothers Mottershead were in and they began a sharp acceleration in run scoring, adding over 80 runs between them and taking Headley into a commanding position with 10 overs to go, prompting a spectator on the fine leg boundary to ask Horse “is this a seniors’ side?”
A smart run out, far from slowing Headley, brought the dangerous and clean hitting Grant Barton to the crease. His eyes lit up as the ragged Pecker performance deteriorated in the hot sun and he brutalised Runky, Groundskeeper and Tiddles to the short boundary, all of whom were thinly rewarded for bowling creditably. Snax also bowled a short, memorable spell, the 2nd over going for 22 a bit of a game changer.
A superb 72 was ticked off for Steve Barton in the Headley scorebook and we would take a BYO tea with a certain level of nervousness chasing 233, our batting line up resembling one of the adders slithering on Headley Heath – one pair of teeth and a very long tail.
The last time Motty opened the batting for the Peckers, he was skipper and scored his maiden century.He strode to the crease, his freshly trimmed physique reminiscent of a young Allan Lamb, Pecker eyes were momentarily hopeful. As he walked back with just 5 to his name, those same eyes turned to the Great Bald Hope, Cuddy, marching out with great purpose, carrying an arguably unrealistic weight of expectation. With Bobby Barton bowling an exceptionally tight spell of left arm seam up, a general sense of panic set into the Pecker batting line up. Spinach fell for a slow-cooked duck, Cuddy would dutifully walk to a thin edge, Horse castled by an in-swinging yorker. Game over.
But was it? POB had packed his middle order with heft – Cat, Dupa and Tiddles bring all significant weight of cricketing intellect, and all recognised the value of hanging around and not chasing too many quick singles. The Pecker score began to build towards a respectful total, anchored by the enigmatic Cat, whose mood was slowly lifting from Level Bagpuss to something nearer Garfield, as his clean hitting and clever shot selection ticked towards a maiden 50. Nobly supported by Snax and Groundskeeper Willy with a swashbuckling 34, Cat would drop to his knees and take the crowd’s adoring ovation for his maiden 50 in any format. Headingley in 81, Edgbaston in 05, Headingley in 2019.. this was one for the ages. All who witnessed it will share an unshakeable and unspoken bond – I was there.
Great Knock Bagpuss…castled by the Nelson curse?
The innings would finally be exhausted by the clock, Peckers battered but unbowed, with a total of 177-9. The club spirit, so nobly upheld by skip POB, carried on with jugs with our delightful hosts on the outfield in the evening sunshine.
Thanks as always to POB for his relentless organization, to MCG for bringing the foals, to Ched Max and Miles & Gemotty for their support, to those who drove for multiple hours to make a side on a Sunday. This is the cricketing family that make games like Headley such a true reflection of all that is wonderful about being a Pecker.
To Tilford.
