Tour Diaries

Bat First Keyworth set off on the inaugural KCC Tour to sunny Suffolk. Giddy with excitement, the Hiller Sisters set off before dawn; the more sedate Drury and Legge combo had departed at dusk the night before to ensure arrival for the 9.00 meet. Tony Spence showed that his sense of direction was as wayward as his bowling by taking the Stamford turn and ending up 30 miles south of the Colsterworth Little Chef. The KCC fatties boosted cholesterol levels with Olympic breakfasts while Tinno and the Sisters settled for pancakes and maple syrup from the kids’ menu. Tinpot was first off the grid, but was horrified to be overtaken by Drurs barely halfway.

Another first, we arrived early in Bury St Noel Edmonds, welcomed by the charms of the Crossroads Hotel. Sadly the lunch order had got lost in translation: 16 sandwiches, rather than sandwiches for 16. Lager was a suitable substitute.

The convoy arrived at the beautiful Bury ground, still decked out from a three day county game.

News that Drurs was opening the batting saw most tourists desperately seeking for alternative activities: Laddy took his car for a wash, while Heppers and Geoff drove in ever increasing circles around Bury to delay arrival. Dessy even resorted to some light stretching.

Liam kindly filled in for the opposition and was rewarded with the new ball. Dave G was undone third ball by a brisk in-swinger: Liam quickly apologised recognising that he had just skittled the daily fines master. DG trudged off moaning that he wouldn’t have missed a hash brown on off stump. DJ Vespa came in at no.3 with concrete in his boots and was quickly given out plum LBW by Barry. At 0-2 the tour was tottering. Granty and Drurs set about repairing the damage but not without controversy. A wild slash from Parker had the slip cordon celebrating, but the brash Aussie stood his ground, Barry claiming to be unsighted, when deafness would have been more appropriate. The opposition skipper asked for wooden arms to be included in the post match drugs test.

Although this was a fourth day pitch, it was still a belter, and with the new ball gone even Drurs managed to find the boundary rope. Grant finally ran out of luck on 45, which brought Bomber to the crease on home turf. A rapid knock of 33 saw us well placed at 120-4. Rocket came into the game long on hair but short on runs, though you wouldn’t have known as he belted a succession of straight drives across the billiard table outfield. Bomber instructed the 4th wicket pair to hit out or get out: Drurs tried to do both, but wasn’t helped by the Bury keeper refusing to make a stumping to keep him in, to boost the post-match fines.

We finally declared at 227-4, Rocket unbeaten on 60 off 39 balls, Drurs on 85 off about 390.

After the tea time photo call Boss Hogg opened up from the Town End. The opposition openers reported he bowled with deceptive pace: even slower than he looked. But the lack of pace did for one of them, caught off a leading edge. However after that it was a batting exhibition as the tourists attack went to all parts. Bomber even resorted to coming off a long run and was promptly heaved for 20 in an over.

Then we got some luck. Bury’s South African pro pulled up lame with a mystery hamstring strain and limped off. While his free scoring partner was given out stumped while standing almost behind the crease.

Bobby swapped ends and bowled a fine spell of 3-22 off 7 overs. And it was nip and tuck for the final overs. Play was sadly halted as Nellie tumbled chasing a catch and landed plum on his shoulder in agony.

When play restarted Bury reached their target off the penultimate ball, although Barry later added up that the scores were tied.

After match fines were plentiful, Parker in a kangaroo court for not walking. DJ Vespa took the Dick of the Day costume while Drurs sported the MOM T-shirt.

The launch of Tour Top Trumps saw many tourists keen to up their ratings for drinking. However, left hand drinking caught out most in the Dog and Alan Partridge, before the tourists were buoyed by the return of Bobby, in a sling, but boosted by guidance that his painkillers wouldn’t interfere with lager. The night ended with plenty of kebab action, a cab fiasco and the Hiller Sisters not before time dumped in a bin.

Day 2 dawned with most of the tourists lacking sleep. Many complained to the Crossroads’ staff about road noise; however Chairman Drury confirmed it was Leggy’s snoring that had been the cause. Even with ear plugs, Drurs couldn’t escape the drone of zzzzzzbosssshogggg throughout the night.

Heppers and Geoff were mistaken at the breakfast table for American tourists, see through shorts revealing their own sausage and two eggs.

Parker and Spence set off on the Bury tourist trail in search of a Walkabout Bar, while the rest of the squad headed for the Bury Links. Geoff endeared himself to the locals by wearing his baseball cap in the clubhouse, who overcame any language barriers by using the international sign language for 'caps off'. Geoff repaid their generous hospitality by refusing to replace divots throughout, of which there were many. Geoff had the last laugh, despite a bad start, scooping first prize with 37 points. Meanwhile Dale was teaching the Youth Policy a thing or two on the adjoining crazy golf course.

On return, Parker and Spence looked a little weary after their Leo Sayer, DJ reporting that he was feeling ok: ‘the sambuca is helping to keep the sick down’.

Thursday night saw the Tour Dinner and the controversy of Mascarpone-gate. Many of the party had pre-ordered cheese-topped lasagne unaware it was the vegetarian option. While unlikely to get a Michelin star, it was quite tasty, but not to the palate of Bobby, who starred in his own version of the F-Word, refusing to eat the pasta slop and dining solely on vino tinto. Geoff Baker took the day’s MOM honours, Leggy looked like Timmy Mallet in this DOTD outfit.

As darkness fell, the tourists were treated to the ‘Laddy Hates Jazz’ combo playing lots of notes but all in the wrong order. Before heading to the now legendary Club Brazilias, with more foam than a Fairy Liquid factory. ‘In 10 minutes we’ll be in Ibiza’ bawled the dick on the decks, many of the tourists couldn’t wait that long and escaped. Tinpot and Parker avoided the previous night’s taxi fiasco by hitching a ride back with the local plod, who clearly thought this was the safest way to avoid unnecessary paperwork.

The mid morning meet saw Tinpot depart for a night in Paris, replaced by Boom Boom and Liam. After a short trip down the A14 Laddy and Barry were the last to pull up to the Novotel. Barry was alarmed to see a local hooligan decorating the flower beds after a long night on the sauce: ‘who’s that in the shrubbery?’ asked Barry, ‘it’s your son!’, replied Laddy.

We were treated to more fine weather and a second beautiful ground at St.Margaret’s. Spice was added to our batting with sibling rivalry taken to a new level: the Hiller Sisters opening up, the lowest scorer paying the other’s fines for the day. Much crab-like defence followed with full tosses and half volleys being defended as if life savings depended on it. Sister Andy was the unlucky loser getting one that swung, seamed, kept low and bounced, his 2 being easily eclipsed by Sister Dave’s 20.

Laddy anchored a good total with a cultured 48. Dale was unlucky on 13 clean bowled on his home strip. Geoff Baker upped his average to over 100 miles per run making just a single. Leggy played the shot of the day first ball, a deft guide to third man for four. The Boss was treated to brutal display of hitting at the other end, Iggy hitting 5 sixes in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it 36. The topsy-turvy batting order ensured a big total at tea: DJ Spence found form with an unbeaten 28, Heppers made 12, Drurs a slogged 18, while Grant biffed 32 as last man, with an enormous six into Norfolk. Wensley won his own personal battle with Iggy, our 241-9 beating Wednesday’s total.

The tea interval saw the grand opening of the St.Margaret’s scorebox to which KCC had made a donation.

Our bowling had a third afternoon of tour look and feel. Parker reluctantly opened up, took a wicket, and was knackered after an over. Various others bowled at half normal pace. Our fielding was comical with tired drops from XX, Vespa and Hogg.

At halfway Tony Spence took over the keeper’s mums and dads from Laddy. And kept as if it was his first time with the Teflon mitts. Apparently it was. Laddy himself bowled a tidy spell of allsorts to seal the MOM award.

Again it was nip and tuck over the last few overs but the visitors claimed the spoils with an over to go.

It was like being back in communist Russia as Laddy administered the post match fines like a modern day Joseph Stalin. Birthday boy Dave G confirmed his collusus rating, by pipping Rocket in a down-a-pint sprint. Iggy donned the DOTD while a special outfit was reserved for Rocket carrying it off in high camp style.



Finally Laddy got his come-uppance with a game of ‘stumpy’.

A great club tour, brilliantly organised by Dale and Iggy, not least to get fine weather. Roll on 2008 to the south-west.