Cousin D

Going on tour is rather like Christmas as a child, or working out why you have a left hand as a teenager… it’s very exciting and easy to ‘over do it’… but get it right - and you will find it to be one of the most rewarding experiences since your last night in a Travel Lodge not sharing a room with Le Chat, but knowing that someone had too....

The wiser of this weekend’s descent were careful to avoid the vices of London on the Friday EVEning of the trip to the watercress producing pocket of Hampshire, with civilised gourmet suppers and not getting too overexcited. In Traaash’s case however it was visiting his ‘madre’ that would be holding him up (according to his whatsapp message at 01.10 AM), rather than a party that most of the team seemed to sniff out that went on until Saturday morning…

As the partygoers were calling it a night, Motty and I were up and underway in the Packer heading to Bramshaw GC’s ‘Forest Course’ (calling at Greggs, Potter Towers and Bramshaw GC pro shop) for a wild round of blind tee shots, getting lost on and between holes and resorting to google maps satellite view, and our balls finding plenty of water - but our bags rather droughty on what was turning out to be a glorious start to the weekends weather. It was more like a Duke of Edinburgh expedition than round of golf - but thoroughly enjoyable and I was glad to show the lads my fav course in England.

By the time we had moseyed on over to the Three Horseshoes at Bighton, there was some Kubb underway and jugs of Perridge Pale Ale 3.6% abv and Otter Amber 4% abv starting to appear, and disappear, at the rear of Greasy’s seriously smart establishment.

It is perhaps the best part of a tour - when the late afternoon sun shines so resplendently on a raised English pub garden, at the same time that new and old mates trickle in - dribs and drabs at a time, welcoming each other with hugs and high fives, all the while dogs bounce in the now lush green wheat/

Jugs of Perridge and Otter upon arrival at the Three Horseshoes

The scene was set for the most enjoyable of weekends.

Saturday evening ensued, with a flavoursome Paella from Greasy’s new chef (Runky compatible with Chicken and Prawn), washed down with some fine claret kindly sponsored by the landlord in the Jeroboam format. We were quite insistent that the house wine would be fine, but Greasy wasn’t prepared to drink that shit on his night off! Around this time, the private 40th birthday party located out on the terrace was well underway - with the mingling of the two crowds starting to muddle, but not for long as we smoked them out and into their cabs leaving the Three Horseshoes ripe for a lock in that comprised of a high end selection of CHEEEEESE both the lactose and dairy free varieties. The former carefully selected (morbier, tomme, cheddar, gruyere, port salut included…) by a man who knows a thing or two about CHEEEEESE - Le Chat…

The following morning, the travel lodge brigade showed up looking rather tired, Dabbler especially having had the pleasure of sharing a room with Le Chat…Snax had been booked in as ‘Tuggin’ Mapuddah’ which confused the receptionist Bacon and Egg Ciabatta Rolls, with Coffees and Cigs helped/hindered a few, and before we knew it, and after a brisk dog walk, there was a convoy en route to the packed Flower Pots Pub in Cheriton to meet the rest of the team for our game vs Tichbourne Park CC.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but stats will never hurt me…

We had 12 and them 10, so someone had to join Tichbourne Dabbler drew the short straw (or lowest card).In actual fact, yours truly dodged the first 18 overs in the field (as the groundsman had dodged anyone who had inspected his wicket on arrival) in exchange for a stint filling in the score book, and enjoy a few more pints of Perridge Pale Ale in the sun.

First Over of the hotly anticipated tour game vs Tichbourne Park CC - Motty leading the charge down the hill. Big swing from batsman Belfield (shortly renamed (by himself) Bellend) scooping it straight towards mid on, where Pirate moved in for an early kill - and without mercy saw off the first Royal Duck of the season. (I had recently discovered that a Diamond Duck is being out without having faced a ball - not being out first ball of an innings (this is a Royal Duck)).

Ashley Gunner turned out to have a misfire on his second barrel, having hit a 4 - and quickly was axed by Motty, without the help of anyone else, but Gunner would claim that the Groundsman was in cahoots on his quick end. What a opening chapter for the Peckers - 2 wickets in the first over was the start everyone needed. If this momentum could be continued….

George Ayling joined Henry Pratt at the crease to one would imagine, get his head down and secure the ship with better defence than his immediate predecessors. However, in his innings of 46 runs, he ran only on 3 occasions - hitting 7 x 4’s and 2 x 6’s…. much to our opening duo Motty and Greasy’s dismay. Poor Greasy hadn’t even had a wicket and was still getting carted about. In fact, Greasy went for 39 off his first 4 overs (Pobsy showing some unusual restraint in not removing our Tour host…) with Ayling eyeing up early retirement at 50 as was part of the laws on a tour match, until Botty caught a skier earning Greasy his bonus over. From here on in, he would go onto bowl a further 4 overs, taking a total of 4 wickets for only 3 runs…. how fortunes can change. Greasy removed opener Pratt (bowled 23), Pendlebry (bowled 0 - played on) and Sam Barnett (LBW 1) leaving him with figures 8-2-46-4.

Tichbourne didn’t really offer a huge amount more, other than Jamie Long (23) who off Tuggin Mapuddah’s tidy spell was caught by Otto and Pirrate Garrr chipped in with his spinners. Their overseas players Kyle from Zimbabwe also wagged the wail slightly with a cameo of 14 until he was caught off Pirate coming down the hill, and there was some fear of Fraser Ward from NZ who had been billed as a bit of a hot shot. But coming in at 9 had eyes/aspirations to ensure that I am never allowed to bowl ‘leg spin’ again, and was lured into my web of spin (or lack of) by pre meditating a reverse sweep to the quicker, straighter, fuller ball that caught his back leg - leaving him LWB for 19.

Traas had been held back for the death, but all he needed was for Bone (leftie, 12) to spoon one towards the shorter boundary, where Pirate was taking sun before having to make some ground to end the Tichbourne innings that he had started only 90 mins or so earlier.

Tichbourne had put on 160 all out.

Leftover delicious Paella combined with some average looking sandwiches made up the tea that was reinforced with more Flower Pots Ale and as this was a tour game - some halftime gaspers.

Dabbler and I strolled out, with Dabbler taking on the strike (my confidence slightly lower after a duck at Ripley) against Bone, who wasn’t as intimidating as we had expected. The wicket was clearly on the bowlers side, but Dabbler managed to get through the first over without any blemishes. Zimbabwean Kyle had more accuracy, and opening with some offspin, had me try to block one out from underneath me, only for it to gently roll and touch my off stump, delicately removing a bail. (CD - 1 - played on).

I could insert the phrase ‘to cut a long story short’ - but this would be lying. ‘To cut a short story even shorter’ would be to say that between Dabbler, Self, Botty, Pirate, Moleman, Mutley and Cat (top order) we collectively contributed 27 runs in exchange for our wickets… and suddenly the game was quickly disappearing and all hope going up in smoke (perhaps literally?).

Enter the fray Traash and Pobsy at 40 something for 7 (top run scorer was extra’s, bye quite some way)…

The sun was starting to lower and there were around 120 runs to make. Traash swiftly finding the short boundary, and Pobsy diligently and selflessly pushing the singles here and there needed to keep Trash on strike - who clearly had his eye in. Between them, they put a strong partnership (or menage a trois if you include Mr Byes) on of around 90 (thank goodness the oppo didn’t know how to keep / put a finer leg in place)… From the boundary, despair and acceptance that it wasn’t going to be our day slowly started to turn to ‘can you imagine if they could do this?’ and ‘I tell you what guys - we could be on for a game here…!’.

As per the laws of touring cricket - Traash had to come off at 50 - leaving Pobsy out with Greasy. At this stage, both sides fancied their chances - the best part of a game of cricket.

Luckily Greasy has been doing some undercover work in the lead up to the tour in the form of midweek practise with the Tichbourne lads, and thus was able to hold up his own end, whilst Pobsy took the initiative (now he had lost his Sundance Kid to retirement) to start playing some shots - and showed off his best cricketing skill - piloting a team through the murky waters of a tight finish. The Gambler by Kenny Rogers springs to mind - ‘you gotta know when to hold them, know when to fold them…’

Experience of situations like this, and how to play them only come from previous encounters (which we Peckers seem to have a habit of stumbling into) and so skip was in his element with the far more reliable tail end who seemed to be dovetailing nicely.

Regrettably, Pobsy was caught on 28, leaving just Motty left to join Greasy (we required about 11 to win) before Traas would be called out of retirement.

Motty took a large swing first (or second?) ball, and launched Kyle from Zim for 6 - the first of our innings! Shortly after, being caught when the scores were level, and leaving the last run to Traash to find with partner Greasy.

1 run required - 1 wicket required.

Up until this point, it had been the most thrilling game, and the spectators by and large wanted more entertainment, with cries of ‘go on Trash - finish this in style!’. However, this would be a cheap way to honour the hard work put in earlier by Trash, Pobsy and Greasy - who had saved the day. The Tichbourne team were effectively playing a game of twister with Trash at the crease - with nobody really left deeper than the square.

As such, Trash found the onside, and as the sun was very low in the Hampshire undulating evening, took the Peckers over the line - 161 - 9. Full Scorecard can be found here.

The last run…

It was a great game to watch and score from my point of view and the oppo happy to be a part of such a close encounter.

For me, the man of the match, and of the tour in general, was one that didn’t hit the most runs, but listened to his skip when batting and got his head down to help see us over the line, and when bowling - turned a dodgy spell into a brilliant one. He hosted us like foreign dignitaries and made sure that there was excellent Ale at every point of the weekend where it could be enjoyed.

Thank you Greasy (Not Out, 19) for a wonderful time, and I hope you will remember both a great performance on the field as much as the happy memories we will take away from a glorious weekend in Hampshire.