Threadbare was probably the best you could describe the situation at Oakley this week. However, the 2s cobbled a side together, mainly consisting of 3s stepping up after their game was cancelled.
A Promising Start (Kind Of)
The Oaks batted first, and all seemed dandy at 51-1, despite losing Dan Beckell, who smashed one straight at a fielder who caught it without knowing it. Them’s the breaks.
Then the collapse. It was a classic village collapse that every amateur cricket club claims to have the patent for. Up and down the country, you’ll see in match reports: “Then came a typical (insert club name) collapse.”
However, this was a genuine cracker. As a short and sharpish shower drifted over what was rapidly becoming an episode of The Keystone Cops at the Theatre of Calamities, The Oaks’ wickets, somewhat majestically, went down quicker than BHS, as 51-1 turned into 53-6. A typical (insert Oakley CC here) collapse, made even more beautiful by Jack Cousens departing to the seventh ball of an over. Wonderful stuff.
Zak and Bob: Repair Work
Steve Savage and Zak steered the score away from ‘YouTube Sensation’ territory, putting on 25 before Steve fell, leaving us 77. Bob Lethaby then came in and fought gamely as a partner for Zak, who was now having something more than a flurry. A curious chap is Zak. Last week he looked about as confident as a duck waddling around the Sahara, this week he’s pumping it all over the place.
The score passed the 100 mark and, with a couple of overs to go, it was time to hit out and push on to 140. Sadly, this cunning masterplan fell short, as Zak got stumped for an excellent 36, and Bob showed why he’s better gritting it out than hitting boundaries—holing out with 8 balls to spare.
We finished on 112. Frustratingly, if Zak and Bob had stayed, it could have been 130 or so. But equally, a 35-run partnership edged us away from having to use words such as abject and embarrassing in this report.
The Defence Begins
So, a small target to defend—but you never know. Cricket’s a funny old game. That’s why weirdos play it.
We needed an early breakthrough and—guess what?—we didn’t get one.
Will McCarthy and George Bird bowled really well trying to get that breakthrough, but alas, not this week. When you’re defending a small target, miscues seem to land in gaps and good deliveries appear to brush the bails but not remove them.
The reality is that this theory is probably more nonsensical twaddle, as miscues and near-misses tend to get forgotten or laughed at when you’re defending 250.
Zak Shines Again
Zak came on first change and set about confirming his MOM with an excellent spell, taking two wickets that could easily have been five. That’s the trouble with defending a low score—the miscues land in gaps, and the good deliveries seem to brush the bails but not remove them.
We also have our own microclimate at Oakley and, honestly, you just can’t beat a typical Oakley collapse etc. etc.
Late Wickets and Pie Magic
Jack Cousens came on and took a couple of wickets to nullify, at least in part, the misery of a seventh ball dismissal, and Bob pulled off one of his trademark “I’ll throw you a pie, you miss, I hit” deliveries that produced an LBW decision.
It was hitting around halfway up middle stump, yet still led to a look of utter disdain towards the umpire before the batsman returned to the clubhouse and presumably vomited his way through the kind of existential crisis that affects all of us hapless amateurs who come back every week to indulge in this sickening sport.
Too Little, Too Late
So, five wickets were taken, but it wasn’t enough in a game where another 30-odd runs on the board might have made it a contest worthy of going viral with up to 10 views on YouTube.
Hurstbourne Priors were lovely guests who provided cakes and a sausage dog for Marley to do something unholy with, while Bob fought on a hill with BT (Billy Turner) to claim 10 runs instead of the 8 written in the scorebook.
The lesson to take away from that? If you’re going to fight Billy on a hill, do it over how much booze you can both consume before stumbling incoherence takes hold. Don’t do it over a cricket scorebook. Sickeningly, Bob’s 10 was in fact… 8. Bob plays cricket in multiples of ten to make his cricketing life feel less worthless, so being denied a gritty century was far more gut wrenching than his bemused teammates could ever understand.
Told you cricket is for weirdos…
On we travel.