Gladiators CC 147-2 (Faggie 2-18) beat Quokkas 144 all out (Ali 35, Rashid 30, Hamza 22)
My name is Adrian Seagull Chesney, stand-in Commander of the Quokkas of the North, General of the Wheelhouse Legions, and loyal servant to the true skipper, Robin `Skip’ Bradley. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next… Er, sorry, I got a bit carried away there, but when else am I going to get that kind of opportunity?
There was no sign of Maximus Decimus Meridius on Sunday, nor Spartacus, Nitro, Malibu, Rhino or Fashanu, but the Brentford Gladiators Cricket Club certainly showed plenty of strength and honour, accompanied by some half-decent batting and top-notch bowling. Despite the duel taking place in the familiar local colosseum of the Kings House School playing field, we were a little short on gladiators. Thankfully Hamza (aka The Natural) joined the fray, and our ranks were bolstered by the very enthusiastic Harrison (more tips than John McCririck) and the slightly more reserved Anshul from our opponents (our thanks to both). As we made our way across the playing fields, Faggie confused morning prayer with a warm-up. Who said Australians lacked culturally diversity?
I think the flight path to Heathrow must have changed, as I don’t recall being disturbed by a single plane, but there was an incredible amount of noise coming from the neighbouring pitches in the form of loud appeals. I really felt for the umpire in one game, seeing all eleven fielders running straight at him screaming “…what do you mean that’s not out?”. Actually, what I really wished for was similarly stoic umpires who were unwavering despite a hostile environment…especially as I was given out leg before wicket. More of that shortly.
Are you ready? Three, two, one…
Evil was out fifth ball. Maybe use the Pugil stick next time? Sohail and then Anshal joined him in the hutch a few overs later. Then followed Faggie and Harrison. At 37-5 things didn’t look good. Thankfully Rashid and The Natural took the fight back to our opponents, hitting a bevy of lofted boundaries. Ali and then Yak continued to score at will, but when Ali fell, it was left to me to hold up an end. Sohail thought otherwise and gave me the old `pollice verso’ (thumbs down) when a ball pitching outside leg turned and hit me in front. No one can accuse our umpires of being dishonest. Four leg-before-wicket decisions given by our own umpires and I didn’t make any of them. Ali informed Faggie that his was “a 50:50 decision, so I went with the 50% that you were out”. Brilliant.
Over tea, we discussed whether deflated footballs impacted Birmingham City’s performance in the Championship this season, if it was a good idea to get driving lessons from Scottie Scheffler and how Faggie plans to utilise the Driver’s talents in his LMS side. I think “frugally” was the answer. Every team needs a mascot I suppose. Awooga. If I wasn’t hungover, my team talk would have been something like: “The past is seldom as we would have it. The future yet to be known. Embrace the present and strike all else from concern. On my command unleash hell.” And Faggie kind of did. Looking like an ever so slightly younger version of Wolf, he came steaming in and proved a real handful, not least for our debutant wicketkeeper Seagull. The Aussie claimed two beautiful wickets, clean bowling both victims. For the second there was almost a repeat of the `LMS concussion incident’ as the ball ricocheted off the bails and hit Seagull on the shoulder. Where is Conan the Bow Tie Killer when you need him?
I should have said. It wasn’t just runs we were short of, wicketkeepers were rarer than Quokka defensive shots, which meant I took the gloves for the first time ever. There were a few byes, but considering the amount of leg-side bowling I didn’t do too badly. There was no lack of confidence and Dave’s ego took a dent when I stood up to the wicket for his bowling. Despite a lack of pace, he bowled well. As did The Yak, who looked only ever so jaded after a night of slap bass [Ed: Sounds like fun]. What we needed though was wickets. So, on came Sohail and Harrison. What we got was short-pitch bowling that was sent rapidly to the boundary, multiple times. Have a blow chaps.
It was time for some really slow bowling, so on came Anshul and Radio, who made no difference to the run rate whatsoever. The last throw of the dice was to get Hamza back into the game and his first delivery went like a rocket and beat the batsman all ends up. Very promising. The second was also extremely quick, but sadly also extremely wide [Ed: It would have been signalled a wide on the track next to the one we played on] and poor old Seagull could do nothing but watch it fly for four wides and the game was lost.
The Quokkas know when they are conquered, but at least our opponents were entertained.
Seagull (not Sparticus) R.I.P. John Anderson