We managed a game on Saturday, and I managed some runs. 11 n.o. going in at number 11. We lost in the last over, but I have no arguments with that. I umpired for a long time but I didn't mind that either. The other guy who was umpiring was debating whether we should no ball the bowler who he thought was dollying up some so that they came out of the sun. I wasn't so sure. He sent one up or down which in my opinion was plumb lbw. He didn't appeal. Somebody else did but he was at fine leg and in no position to see and far enough away for me not to hear. I told him I would have given it out if he had appealed, but he said that he didn't think it would be fair on the young lad as it had come out of the sun. Respect to the bowler who was no old 'un himself. When I was batting he complimented me on my late cut which almost went for four. The wicket keeper sighed in exasperation not being the sort to recognize a quality shot when it he sees one. Respect again to the bowler. He got his wicket caught and bowled in his last over, so justice sort of prevailed as it often does in friendly matches.
I had some questions in my mind but I didn't air them, this being as I said a friendly. I gave the bloke in question my blog card in the pub afterwards so he can make up his own mind. What do you think? We'd reached tea with a wicket on the last ball. As we walked off their team shouted to the batsmen, 'You only want two more'. The bat who was out thought they meant him and told them that he was out. They then said it was the other guy who was 2 short of a century. We dutifully walked back on again and as was his custom he edged one down to the third man boundary. It wasn't a deliberate stroke. I wasn't bowling so had no axe to grind. I'd bowled well enough against him and it was only my usual one over too many that they got hold of. Anyway I clapped and started to walk off. I looked around to see that he was facing up for another ball I had to get back to my short mid wicket position by the fence. They played on for the rest of the over getting another 8 or so runs. Well that's not cricket is it?
Not to worry I suppose, and I haven't named names and I didn't make a fuss at the time , as there's more to life. My mate and I and the bloke he gave a lift to went to the pub afterwards. It was entirely non-smoking already. I had a weak shandy as I was driving. I shouldn't have been, as my mate had arranged to take me back from the ground to his place for a curry with the missus joining us later. What the missus hadn't twigged of course was that he was going direct to their ground and wouldn't be coming to the meet. As he hadn't turned up of course by well after leaving time I reassuringly waved all the others off, so they wouldn't be late. After seeing two first team wickets fall, with various chats and phone calls I finally sussed the problem, so I walked back home to get the car. The missus offered to drive me there, but I said we'd only probably row so I'd come back after the game and get her, but not in the vindictive sense. Our skipper was new, this being the fifths and didn't know that my mate had been asked to pick up the name on the team sheet that nobody at the meet had heard of. He also didn't realize that part of the reason in collecting money off the players was to pay the opposition for the teas. Luckily my mate had a twenty and I had a tenner, so we could pay our dues. I noticed that the centurion who had stayed in for the extra five balls didn't buy a jug, certainly while we were there. I wouldn't have accepted much of it anyway as as I have already said I was driving, but that's not the point and that's not cricket either is it? I hope it's not going to be like this in every pub from the beginning of July. No wonder smokers cough.
As I'd got eleven runs, and had bowled six or seven overs without knee problems, the soggy memories of the pre-match wait in the rain had dissolved away by the time I had got home. The evening was most enjoyable. Besides my mate and his missus, there was another couple there. They are both good company. Both are artists. Next weekend they are off to a James Bond theme fancy dress do. It was great going through all the options. We ended up with Goldfinger and Pussy Galore. They will have to get hold of some plus fours and some jodhpurs. I couldn't remember the name of Pussy's pilots as the lady reckoned that her husband would want to go as a female and she didn't want to go as a man. I'll look up Pussy's Pilots on the internet though I may be some time. Alternatively I'll phone a friend. I phoned a friend on Saturday night. Nobody believed me that the 70's David Carradine TV Western was called 'Kung Fu'. Their suggestions ranged from 'Grasshopper', 'The man who shot Fu Manchu', to Shenandoah and the Shaolin Monk', as far as I can remember. I told you it was a good evening. I gave the couple a blog card each. I'll give them the option of putting the photos of themselves on the blog. Confucius he say ' One who say no wore wrong outfit'. I will write about Day 3 at Adelaide but I had to get this out of my system first. Oh yes. For our century making batsman or his skipper. Confucius he say 'To go beyond is as wrong as to fall short.' And you managed both in one day. See you next season, probably.
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