Tuesday 22 May 2012

'AWNIOGO': ALDRIDGE (H)**

Sunday, June 25  
STAFFORDSHIRE CUP, ROUND 3 

It’s fair to say that we knew as much about Aldridge Cricket Club as my dog knows about differential equations. However, we realized that they would also be in the dark about us (unless, that is, Doug Eyre’s sixty-year devotion to Moddershall has all been a big cover-up and in a moment of prescience back in the 1930’s he foresaw this fixture and spent the rest of his time as a spy for Aldridge compiling a massive dossier on their future opponents. But that was unlikely, I felt.) The unfamiliarity between the two sides gave the fixture something of an exotic flavour – well, as exotic a flavour as you can get with a team that speak like extras from a Brew XI advert. Yow awe-ROIT, mush?

Aldridge’s decision to bat first was undoubtedly based upon our shambolic fielding warm-up, but it was a decision that they would come to regret. Just as he did in the previous day’s league match, Mauler took a wicket before the score had left zero, producing a vicious climbing delivery that brushed a glove on the way through to Kitbag, who had been brought in as wicket-keeper for the day. Over the next hour Law and McNab restored the balance before we began to whittle our way through an extremely brittle batting line-up. Both these batsmen fell for 23, the former well caught at extra-cover by a now recovered Coke off Addo, and the latter brilliantly pouched by the rotund Kitbag, diving full-length, off Wayne Stones who had forsaken his spinners in favour of left-arm swingers and went on to return the excellent figures of 4 for 27.

Our niggardly bowling was augmented by sharp fielding as Aldridge – having only managed to strike 8 boundaries despite the fast outfield – limped along to 130 for 9 from the full 45 overs. It was never going to be enough. We began the chase full of confidence: Addo was seeing it like a football and, after we brought up the 50 partnership in the 14th over, began to brutalize the bowling. I contented myself with a supporting role and was gradually finding some form as the 100 was brought up inside 21 overs. With only a handful of runs needed, both Addo and I fell in quick succession and it was left to Harv to blast off the winning runs, which he did with typical panache.

After such a lack of competition during the game it was obvious that John Myatt, with pent-up energy to discharge, was spoiling for some sort of contest. So, with him having earlier claimed, ludicrously, he possessed “the best arm in the club”, Addo – Alpha Male pecking order issues at stake – decided to challenge him to a cricket ball throwing contest (distance, not accuracy). It was a pathetic sight, and one that ought to have been accompanied by trained medical staff, but there had to be a winner from amidst the mediocrity and, mercifully for everyone, it wasn’t Mauler. 

MODDERSHALL WON BY 8 WICKETS 


ALDRIDGE 130 for 9 (45 overs)
W Stones 4-27
MODDERSHALL 133 for 2 (30.3 overs)
J Addison 63, S Oliver 40


'AWNIOGO': BARLASTON (A)


Best  Kept  Village



Saturday, June 24

In the not too distant past Barlaston was voted, two years running, the Best Kept Village in Staffordshire. Obviously the panel of judges never bothered to inspect the cricket ground, as it hasn’t always been the best looked after or most picturesque of sporting venues. However, it appeared that the lads from Barlaston (another of Addo’s former clubs) had been working hard to improve things – not only did we find that the outfield had been cut, but also the wicket was straw-coloured and looked fast and bouncy; definitely too firm for Geoff Boycott’s keys.

Addo didn’t do the business at 1.45, so we were asked to have a bat. Some 47 overs later, at a quarter to five, the scoreboard showed 251 for 1 and half our team was searching for lost cricket balls. I was feeling a tad miffed having been able to watch more of the Rugby World Cup final than I would have liked. With what the pro called a “popgun attack”, baking sunshine, and a flat track, somebody invariably misses out on dipping their bread and in my form it wasn’t all that surprising that it was me.

Conditions were so good for batting that, when Lovejoy had cracked a problem-free and boundary-spattered half-century in 45 minutes, he met me mid-pitch, almost foaming at the mouth, and said “Dog, the league record is on”. Whether he meant highest opening partnership, highest team score, highest individual score, most bats used in a single innings, or some other record isn’t entirely clear; whatever it was, it didn’t happen (apart from the last one). Unfortunately for Addo, Barlaston’s bowling got a little bit straighter during his partnership of 161 with Harv and he had to content himself with the trifling score of 126 not out from 134 halls. Dickie, having carefully played himself in, started to move slowly up through the gears, timing almost everything, swatting balls through the covers with disdain and picking up big sixes with a flick of the wrists. His unbeaten 88, made from only 95 balls, included 11 fours and 4 sixes (three of which came in the last four balls of the innings) and was his first half-century of the season. That left only me out of our top eight batsmen without a half-century to my name (about which I was becoming mad as a speed-snorting sea-snake). 

Barlaston CC pavilion: original, pre-Box design

Our attempt to bowl them out would be difficult on a pitch of such true pace and bounce, and would almost certainly require us to take all our chances, maintain our intensity throughout, and perhaps be given a modicum of good fortune from Lady Luck. We started brightly when Mauler removed Taylor’s off-stump before a run had been scored, but things took a turn for the worse when Cokey staggered from the field complaining of dizziness. Addo, who himself had been seen drinking beer during the tea interval, put this down to Kev’s penchant for a pint or two whilst we bat. However, it transpired that Cokey had a long standing condition called Ménière’s Disease which affects the inner ear and causes the sufferer to lose balance. Disease or no disease, Coke has certainly brought balance to our side this year – boom-tish! – and it was quite distressing to see him zig-zagging off the field with vertigo. 

This setback forced Andy Hawkins into the attack and he immediately produced a gem of a delivery to account for Underhill. At 12 for 2 we had one foot in the door, and another couple of quick wickets would have put us firmly on the path to victory. Unfortunately however, we had to wait another hour and a half for our next success as Eric Riley joined his son (or possibly his grandson) in a stand of 114. Riley senior gave one chance early on, thin-edging a quick out-swinger from Seth, but I was caught flat-footed and didn’t go for what should have been my catch, the ball flashing away between myself and Mauler at slip to the boundary.

As the game moved into the final 20 overs, Harv and Wayne bowled five overs of buffet spin between them, putting Barlaston in with an outside chance of victory. That chance disappeared when the well-set Eric Riley holed out to long-on, where his colleague, Carl Underhill, kindly acting as a substitute fielder for Coke, took the catch with aplomb. Who said sportsmanship’s dead? Andy Hawkins then took the wickets of Darren Dutton and Riley Jr. (who had spent 42 overs flamboyantly compiling his 35 runs) to give us the distant whiff of victory. It wasn’t to be, though, as Neil ‘Emma’ Davies guided his team through to the full quota of batting points and a reasonably comfortable draw. 

Duke of York, Barlaston

A curious nickname is Emma, and one which makes me wonder how he acquired it. Perhaps it comes from some link with the celebrated English authoress Jane Austen, who wrote a famous novel of the same name. Austen died in 1817 from a condition called Addison’s Disease, named after its discoverer, the English physician Thomas Addison. Addison’s Disease is connected with defective functioning of the suprarenal glands (situated above the kidney) and frequently characterised by bronzy pigmentation of the skin. Our own professional, Jon Addison, had a kidney removed as a child, and he does have undeniably bronze skin. While the coincidence is undeniably spooky, it also has nothing whatsoever to do with Neil Davies or Emma; rather, it just happens to be the least tenuous link I could think of to shoehorn this piece of Addo-related trivia into the report. Please accept my unreserved apologies. 

Our post-match mood was reasonably positive on account of us all eagerly anticipating the following day’s Staffordshire Cup clash with Aldridge – all of us except for Smudger, that is, who wasn’t aware of the game and consequently had the task of telling Kim that their planned day out in Blackpool would have to be postponed. Harv, obviously delighted to be back in form, was keen to have a quick shower and leave for a few beers with his mates, but sadly he was unable to wash ’n’ go – as he rinsed his hair contentedly, Hawk kept tipping more and more shampoo onto it. The harder he rubbed to get the shampoo out, the more suds appeared, to the point where he was staggering blindly around the changing rooms with a white Afro. The old ones are the best, eh Minty? 

MATCH DRAWN 


MODDERSHALL 251 for 1 dec. (47 overs) 

J Addison 126*, R Harvey 88*
BARLASTON 176 for 6 (50 overs) 

E Riley 77, R Riley 35, A Hawkins 3-42

MODDERSHALL 8 points
BARLASTON 5 points



Monday 21 May 2012

'AWNIOGO': BURSLEM (A)


Cobridge traffic lights from above, with the site of the old Burslem ground in the extreme bottom-left







Sunday, June 18

Burslem. The very name itself conjures up a wealth of images: derelict factories, crime, seedy nocturnal activity, Port Vale supporters, dodgy backstreet pubs and hostile cricketers. A player from one of our opponents earlier in the season suggested that there are normally more animals around Burslem’s pitch than there are at Betley and Ashcombe put together. I don’t know about that, but all these factors make playing at Burslem’s ground a memorable, if sometimes potentially intimidating experience. After having had two poor seasons since they came fourth in section ‘A’ (most of which time has been spent mourning the loss of their beloved Dave ‘Foll’ Follett to Middlesex, via Leek), our ever amiable opponents appear to have a stronger side this year. We kept an unchanged team (for the first time this season) in the knowledge that a drastic improvement was needed if we were to come away with 20 points.

Addo won the toss and asked Burslem to have first use of a sluggish looking pitch that had the same brown tinge as the balti I had ‘recycled’ earlier that morning. A couple of rather indifferent opening spells from Iain and Mauler allowed Burslem to get off to an excellent start as they raced to 69 without loss in only 14 overs. It was a roasting afternoon, one in which concentration can easily waiver, yet we desperately needed to restore some discipline to our bowling as the game was already beginning to drift away from us. On came our two most dependable seamers, Seth and Coke, who ended up bowling a couple of marathon spells right through until tea. It was a staggering effort and exactly what was needed as, almost immediately, we clawed our way back into the game. During the two hour and ten minute period over which they shared 38 overs, only 85 runs were conceded whilst we picked up eight valuable wickets. 

View down Etruria Road: Burslem sightscreen just visible behind trees

First to fall was Burslem’s professional, Steve Lowndes, trapped lbw in Andy Hawkins’s first over. He didn’t appear overly thrilled with the decision but his complaints rang a touch hollow considering his tendency to thrust his pads down the line with his bat well hidden. Next, Rob Hewitt, who had been scoring quite freely, skied a catch to Harv at mid-off, clearly frustrated at being shackled by Cokey. With the inexperienced pair of Rowley and the younger of the two Lowndes brothers, Chris, at the crease, the brakes were squeezed still further. Rowley was dropped at cover by Bazzer but couldn’t take advantage of his escape as he crawled almost strokelessly through over after over. Eventually Coke’s metronomic accuracy forced Lowndes to nibble a catch to me, stood up behind the stumps, and to everyone’s surprise it stuck. Burslem were in danger of undoing their excellent start.

Colquhoun came in and attempted to pick up the run-rate but his efforts were nipped in the bud by an excellent catch at deep backward square-leg by Mauler which left them on 120 for 4. By this time Rowley realized he couldn’t go on blocking indefinitely and he ran down the pitch at Cokey. The ball bounced a touch, as well as leaving him off the wicket and I completed the stumping with what Coke described as “the touch of a rapist”. Kevin Beattie came in and looked in sparkling form for the one ball he faced, 129 for 6 becoming 152 for 8 by tea, with only the third Lowndes, Paul, remaining of the recognized batsmen. 

Kevin Beattie's birthplace

We felt it was important to polish them off pretty quickly after the break so as to permit ourselves as much time as possible to knock off whatever total Burslem could reach in their final eight overs. The score had moved steadily to 176 before Cokey took his sixth wicket, giving me a fourth victim as he lured Blood out of his crease with a fullish away-swinger. Lowndes was then snared in similar fashion to his eldest son, to leave us 70 minutes and 20 overs in which to bat. Although having the advantage of running downhill whilst Seth toiled up the bank, Cokey bowled admirably in the searing heat – particularly for a 42-year-old asthmatic! – to record figures of 22-8-50-6. I’m pretty sure he will have enjoyed the now customary pint that greeted him as he dragged his weary bones up the pavilion steps! 

If we could avoid any early catastrophe, the points were there for the taking against an attack that was certainly far friendlier in terms of ability than it was in attitude. They do seem to like to get themselves wound up over nothing, and at one point, when Steve Lowndes screamed aloud as though he had been shot in the kneecap, ostensibly because he’d got one to go past the outside edge, Addo advised him to “chill out, man. Enjoy it, relax”.

Amidst the chirping, we started solidly yet unspectacularly, reaching 30 without loss from the opening 10 overs. As there was nothing especially exciting happening to entertain an ever more sizable crowd (I refer you to the opening paragraph), I decided to amuse them by changing bats at the end of virtually every over. Not to be outdone, Addo decided to call for a sweater, then a cap, then had them both taken off. This constant coming and going of kit did nothing to help our concentration, nor the appalling over rate, and in the thirteenth over (unlucky for some) both the pro and I chipped catches to Paul Lowndes who was lurking on the mid-wicket boundary. It was ironic that, despite my incessant bat-swapping, the only shot I managed to time properly was the one which got me out! I stood my ground, unsure as to whether or not the ball had been grounded, but the umpires told me I had to go, so I did, albeit rather disgruntledly. Peeved at the home team’s go-slow tactics and annoyed at getting out, I turned to an old spectator who had been bellowing abuse at all of us throughout the afternoon and gave him a piece of my mind, hoping for peace of mind.

Back out in the middle, Harv, whose form was as sketchy as mine, got a pull shot high on the bat and dollied a simple chance to mid-on. With only ten minutes to go before the last 20 we were in a bit of trouble at 39 for 3, but this dismissal brought together Andy Hawkins and John Myatt for the partnership that won us the game. It has to be said that our skipper was none too confident of our victory chances at this stage; in fact he turned to someone in the crowd and said, with complete certainty, “we’ve blown it”, but the two batsmen set about some pretty average bowling with relish and the asking rate of 6.5 runs per over soon began to tumble. I imagined Seth telling John at one of their regular mid-pitch conferences, “All we need is one good over.” Whether he did or he didn’t, that is exactly what we got. Three of ‘em. These three overs yielded 39 runs; the victory post was moving steadily into view.

By now Mauler, who had started scratchily, was blasting his way back to form and had began to club sixes onto the Cobridge Road, the best of which was struck off the very first delivery of leg-spinner Rob Hewitt’s spell. Whether Mauler knew it was a googly, a flipper, a top-spinner or a normal leg-spinner is open to debate (it is probably debatable that Hewitt himself knew), but the ball nevertheless sailed out of the ground and into the forecourt at Ken Jervis’s Mitsubishi garage. All this time Seth had been stroking the ball around serenely and played the unrivalled shot of the day, a sumptuous back foot drive off Steve Lowndes. 

Mitsubishis: good memories (or not, as the case may be...)

When John holed out moments after completing his first half-century of the league campaign, and then Drew fell cheaply thanks to an unbelievable catch at long-off, it seemed that we might be spluttering in sight of the finish line. Not so: Andy guided us through to victory, scoring his own half-century in the process. However, the winning blow was fittingly left for 6-wicket Cokey and he clipped Chris Lowndes to the square-leg boundary to cap an excellent weekend for him and give us a much needed 20 points. 

How long ago it seemed since Moddershall 1st XI’s first ever game in the North Staffordshire and South Cheshire League, back in April 1990, when we came to Burslem, were called “Mickey Mouse” all day, yet still won the game having been bowled out for 112. Well, the boys from Disneyland came back and gave you a beating again!! 

MODDERSHALL WON BY 4 WICKETS 


BURSLEM 176 all out (58.3 overs) 

R Hewitt 39, K Colclough 6-50, A Hawkins 3-41
MODDERSHALL 177 for 6 (35.2 overs) 

A Hawkins 55*, J Myatt 53, C Lowndes 3-38, S Lowndes 3-60 

MODDERSHALL 20 points
BURSLEM 7 points