Oakley Park was meant to bask in golden sunshine, at least according to the so-called “trusted” weather apps. Instead, the ground was smothered in grey skies, heavy with swing, while the pitch looked like it hadn’t seen a drop of rain since the Coronation. It was the sort of stage that screamed low-scoring dogfight.
Early Strikes and Comedy Gold
The Oaks took the ball first and immediately Zak Newton found devilish movement, while Alex “Rogey” shouldered the hostility with a grin that mocked the Anton batters. Soon the scoreboard read 0 and 1 for their opener and number three – gone courtesy of Rogey and Zak.
What followed could best be described as a slapstick masterclass. A trio of run-outs—Naimar, Kent-Smith, and the gloriously named Elbert Junior St Catherine, gifted The Oaks wickets without a bowler breaking sweat. Then Nathan Cradduck chipped Ollie Rabley to Dean James, leaving Anton’s hopes squarely on Randolph James.
When Cricket Meets Self-Preservation
Cue the drama. James, seeing one in his arc, smoked a ball straight back at late call-up Bob Lethaby. Reflexes kicked in, the hand saved the head, and Bob walked away bruised but upright. A hero? Absolutely. A man of steel and sex appeal? In his view, yes. Severe bruising didn’t stop him from nipping out a couple of wickets, but James looked ominous in the 30s.
The Oaks set the trap. Bob tossed one up and James took the bait, launching into the deep where Zak Newton embarked on the most chaotic catch attempt of the season, running in circles like a man chasing his dog around a park for what seemed like hours before somehow clinging on in some style. A massive wicket. Anton folded for 125 with Bob posting remarkable figures of 3-2 off 4.1.
Chaos with the Bat
Chasing 125 required nous. George Lethaby understood that, playing with monk-like patience. At the other end, Kunal went full gladiator, blasting two sixes and two fours in 11 balls before perishing for a manic but vital 21.
George and Noah battled on gamely before Noah fell to Cradduck’s low one. George followed soon after for 13, leaving the innings wobbling. Enter Tom Hartgill, who combined swagger and sense to ease nerves with some crisp hitting. His fine 41 was exactly what the Oaks needed, but Anton weren’t done and were full of chirp.
Kent-Smith returned with wicked inswing and chaos reigned. Ian went cheaply, Rogan and Zak recorded ducks, and Ollie fell for 1. Suddenly, from cruising, The Oaks were 8 down, staring down the barrel of a classic choke.
Steely Nerves at the Death
In came Bob Lethaby, still nursing his hand. “Mate, be careful, he’s swinging it back at you,” warned Alex Gough. Bob, visibly bricking it, did just that, digging out the in swinging yorker that could’ve ended him. That moment steadied the ship, allowing Goughy to unfurl a pressure-breaking boundary and a sigh of relief from the balcony.
And so it ended, somewhat anti-climactically, with a wide. Not the Hollywood finish we craved, but Gough’s unbeaten 21 was calm, collected and absolute gold-dust in a sea of Oakley nerves. A bit of RAF training no doubt helping him along.
Another Step Toward Safety
The Oaks scraped home by two wickets, a win laced with tension, bruises, and absurd comedy. With Bentworth also winning, this result was crucial, lifting Oakley above East Anton and edging closer to survival. Not job done yet, but with three wins in four, the skipper and his men have shown grit, heart, and just enough chaos to keep Paul Sumner entertained.
A word for East Anton. They are a decent side, full of chirp but never nasty. They wouldn’t have enjoyed the defeat in the tightest of encounters but took it well, hanging around for a beer and a chat afterwards. Good on them.
Onwards…