What an amazing day, as the Firsts secured promotion and then the League title.
Tinno was able to select a strong side on paper for the trip along the A52 to Bottesford but, as usual, there were plenty of walking wounded. Strongy claimed he was about three weeks away from fitness, but was given little sympathy from Drurs; “that’s about two weeks ahead of where I am every week!”. Friday’s Golf Day had also taken its toll, especially the Chef’s Pie, which was threatening to run through the Millers’ top order, more effectively than the home side’s attack. Tuckers had made it in just before 3am, but was still angling for 40 winks under Bottesford’s new covers.
Benji was a notable and controversial absentee, thinking with his trousers rather than his head, sacrificing a shot at a promotion medal for a dressage rosette.
Rendu’s First Law of Cricket states that he who lives closest to the away ground will always arrive last. And so it proved as The Rocket sped in at 1.20 with just time to get changed, put his trousers on the right way round, and take the new ball.
All was soon going to plan as Rocket and the new DJ Sammy reduced the home side to 11-3; Sam sending an off stump cart-wheeling and Tom taking a smart catch behind. Bobby made the next breakthroughs to peg the home side back further to 62-5. Both were caught by Drurs, one a tracer missile that was still rising. Some good hitting halted our progress until Tuckers took an astonishing catch on the boundary, feet inside the line, but hands over, somehow managing to keep his balance. Bobby nipped out a couple more and at 103-8 we were well on top to the delight of the large travelling away support.
However, the pressure of taking all 10 wickets was beginning to show with all manner of tantrums and dropped catches. Bobby was trying to tinker with Iggy’s field, which as usual had been set by protractor and compass. IG was sent sulking to fine leg, Day Hiller’s chin was around his knees after bowling a wide, and Rocket was steaming as we completely lost track of which batsman we were allowing to take a single. With so many egos to manage, Tinno did the sensible things and disappeared to the long-on boundary to let the other would-be captains sort it out for themselves.
In fairness, Bottesford’s no.5 marshalled the tail brilliantly on the way to a fine unbeaten 85. The last over arrived with one wicket still required, and Rocket delivered a great leg stump yorker to secure the final bowling point... little did we realise how valuable this would turn out to be. Back-page Bobby stole the headlines with 5-43, supported by Sam 2-21, Rocket 2-31 and Day 1-43. The home side’s 177 felt about 50 below par, given the docile pitch, but about 50 too many, given our dismal track record of chasing small totals.
The final entrant for KCC Mastertea 2011 was solid but not spectacular. Egg mayonnaise cobs were the highlight, but any kind of fruit and veg would have been a bonus. Looking back... Long Whatton (Grandma’s recipe Marmalade cake), Southwell (thick sliced gammon cobs), and Willoughby (plated salad and baguettes) were all contenders, but nothing came close to Caribs’ banquet that had the Skip and Chairman drooling on a visit to watch the Stiffs. First round exits went to Bramcote’s outside caterers, and the Youth Policy’s Bob The Builder pasta shapes. Most unlucky was Tom who had to eat chilli for a full fortnight after being rained off when it was his turn. The Skipper’s retro highlight was haslet sandwiches at Bridgfordians, though whether he realised he was eating rolled pig’s head is open to question.
Back to less important on field matters. Bradman was in a bristling mood, irked by only appearing in the ‘also batted’ column in the averages through lack of appearances. IG quickly brought up his 50, with Dale on 2 at the other end off 3 balls. XX went for XI with the score on 67. Dropping IG once is a mistake, but twice is criminal, and Bottesford’s butter fingers ended the game for them as a contest. Another wicket looked unlikely until the Postman amazingly missed a full toss and was out LBW for 18. The Chairman couldn’t get eye contact from the Skipper on the way in, who knew that a red-inker would see Drurs to the top of the mere-mortals’ averages.
Iggy was playing a different game and cruised to another century. Drurs tempted his partner with the thought of a red-inker, but the one-man-team was dismissive; “sorry Drurs, I’m not bothered about a not out, I’m going to have some fun”, and promptly smashed 16 off an over; “they can’t bowl that filth at me and hope to get away with it!”. Drurs took matters into his own hands, hitting the winning boundary, to end on 15, leaving Bradman unbeaten on 116 off 99 balls, to average 97.83 for the season, if only it were to count!
With 20 points in the bag, promotion secured, and a barrel of Somerset scrumpy to slurp, we nervously awaited news of the Risley v Bridgfordians match. Drurs had sent Superjude on a scouting mission to Stamford Road and the omens were not looking good. At 5.30 the covers were on and no cars were to be seen... we deduced that Risley must have won easily against a Bridgford side with nothing to play for? Super Scorer Shelley checked with the League only to find that the game was actually being played at Risley!
The Senior Pros de-camped to the Chairman’s living room, which felt like the Green Room at the Eurovision Song Contest, anxiously waiting for the results from the Derbyshire jury. A text arrived ... 19pts to Risley. Good for us, bad for us? Confusion reigned, laptops were fired up, websites consulted, calculators primed, sums checked and double checked. Finally we were certain, Champions by 0.06 of a point!!
Onwards to The Sal where once again we showed that although we’re terrible losers, we’re even better winners. Though memories of the night will probably be as cloudy as the barrel of Somerset cider that Rocket donated behind the bar.
Congratulations and commiserations to Risley, it was a fantastic end to the season. We continue our yo-yo journey C-C-B-A-B-C-C-D-C much like one of Mr Tuckwell’s year 5 music lessons on the recorder.