Serendipity:
the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.
Some wins are happy accidents; some can be planned and
executed well; some come about by complete and utter surprise. Our first-ever game
against Sanderstead fell into the final category. After years spent snatching
defeat from the jaws of victory, it was an occasion when the exact opposite
occurred…and only by dint of some serendipitous moments did it come about.
Firstly, a word about the previous week’s game, at home to
Red Square Lions. They were a lovely bunch of players, some of whom brought
their kids along, and the day’s cricket was enjoyable. Sadly, the now-notorious
home pitch – wrecked by a heatwave and a total lack of curation – decided to
live up to its reputation as a graveyard for all bowlers who can’t turn it a
mile from leg to off, and was about as sterile as a vasectomy ward the morning
after the big snip. One gun batsman, who scored a hundred despite batting with
a damaged shoulder, was the difference between the teams (as was some seriously
off-kilter fielding), and they won by 90-odd runs. Everything about the day,
apart the pitch, was great…but I wasn’t going to blog about another day when we
only took three wickets on a dustbowl in forty overs!
And so we moved on to the Boars’ inaugural trip to
Sanderstead, and what a difference a week had made. Last Sunday had been the
fourth day out of six where the temperature in London had topped 35 degrees;
come Saturday, and either everyone’s games had been washed out or T20 games
were being played instead as a way of guaranteeing cricket against the forecasted
monsoons. I’d half-expected to receive an email from Tom Palfrey, my opposite
number, telling me the game was off when I found out they’d had four of their
five games cancelled on Saturday; thankfully, the inbox stayed quiet, and as we
all arrived at their picturesque little ground, The Old Saw Mill, conditions
for cricket looked good. The forecast had changed significantly – only showers
were coming our way, so they said – and a whole day’s cricket was on the cards.
As Tom picked a fight with a pull-cord leaf blower and lost,
and with the legendary Derek Rushforth sitting atop the club roller, bristling
with intent and revving the engine every few moments, the Boars marvelled at
the condition of the pitch. I was expecting a soggy pudding of a wicket, the
kind that makes you say “we’ll have a bowl” upon winning the toss and not
feeling guilty about asking your team to field first yet again; the pitch was
smooth, covered with a nice, even layer of grass and rock-hard. I’d already
decided to bat first if I did call correctly, but for only the fourth time in
thirty tosses I didn’t…but I was pleased when Tom decided to have a bowl first
anyway. The rest of the Boars, who’d presumably struck me off their Christmas
card lists the previous week for erroneously bowling first against Red Square
Lions, reacted with a mix of surprise and delight. Richard and I went to pad
up.
A word about Sanderstead. For the last few seasons, they
have established a thriving YouTube channel which had become home to dozens of
highlights packages of their games, and it’s done a fantastic service to the
recreational cricket scene as well as for their own club. Filmed by the
inestimable Dan Allen, they’ve recorded some high-quality League cricket on
Saturdays and some moments of utterly hilarious, totally village and always
entertaining friendly and development cricket on Sundays. The whole world knows
about Sanderstead; one of their clips has been used in the ECB Umpire course,
and even the great Sachin Tendulkar retweeted one of their most talked-about
clips to all his followers. During lockdown, their videos have been watched
time and again, and – certainly for me – were a source of great comfort whilst
the game was put in mothballs.
When other members found out that the Boars were playing
Sanderstead, everybody wanted to play in the team…Instagram and Tik Tok might
be the millenial’s craze of choice, but the prospect of being on telly is still
just too much of a pull to resist. Appointments at hair salons were booked.
Nails were manicured. Backs, sacks and cracks were waxed. The bit of space
between the eyebrows was plucked and moisturised. Blusher was packed into kit
bags. All, though, was to no avail; Dan had decamped to Beddington to film a
development game instead (which also turned out to be a cracker), and
freshly-coiffed fringes flopped sadly at the prospect of once again playing to
no audience. In the absence of the camping Dave “The Demon” Barber and the
working Rob “Typhoon” Turner came Jack Ayling and “Bertie” Basit Ubaid; Jack’s
presence behind the stumps meant I had another day of grazing in the outfield,
so I was a happy chappy.
Ben Carter-Martina bowled the first over: he is just
thirteen, he is quick, and his length was excellent. Bowling down the hill,
though, saw him develop a no-ball problem that blighted his first four overs, but
he ran in with purpose and intent and gave Richard and I precious little to go
after. His style was complemented at the other end by Milan, who came in off
about four steps and bowled every ball on the same spot just outside middle and
off. Sure enough, as soon as Richard told me to keep an eye on what Milan was
bowling, I played the wrong shot to the wrong ball; it simply wasn’t full
enough for the drive back over his head that I attempted, and the ball went
high rather than far between mid-off and mid-on. At first, Stuart Elleray didn’t
look like he was going to make up the ground, and when he did he juggled the
ball four times before pouching it. One run was my solitary contribution, but
our first serendipitous moment had arrived; Jack was now batting. His
temperament is excellent and it needed to be, as the pitch – as bouncy and true
as ours was untrustworthy and all over the place – was slower than I thought it
would be.
Progress was slow. The bowling was excellent, and shots that
on other days would have yielded runs were going straight to fielders. Richard
and Jack had their defensive game in place and looked solid; we just needed a
big over or two to loosen the shackles. They never came. Dev and Darren Budden
replaced Ben and Milan and continued the squeeze with accurate slow bowling,
and in the 15th over Richard was trapped in front by Dev. 38/2 was
the score and in came Andrew Counihan, and together with Jack the score crept
inexorably up. But, after a thirty-run partnership and with only fifteen overs
left, Budden bowled Andrew. Shakil came in and signalled his intentions with a
booming drive for four, but he too got bogged down; with only nine overs left
we were only on 95/3 – nowhere near setting a realistic target for Sanderstead
to chase. As Jack kept on chipping his way, finally entering the forties,
Shakil was cleaned up by Budden; two balls later, it was 95/5. Joe, promoted
one place up the order to provide some fireworks, got a top-edge that flew to
the gully area; Simon Clare hared around from point whilst Tom, as keeper,
chased after it, and as they almost collided Simon took a brilliant diving
catch.
That, serendipitously, brought Saurabh to the wicket and,
after a slow start to his Merton career, opened his shoulders and started to
score runs. Tom’s best four bowlers had, crucially, bowled out, and the
legendary “Deadly” Derek Rushforth and Mark Hughes were to bowl the final
eight. If we were to motor, it had to be now. The new bowlers weren’t able to
replicate the accuracy of their predecessors, and Jack – batting like a man
liberated – brought up his fifty with a drive through the covers. It was a
deserved moment for him after narrowly missing out against Sopwith Camels a
fortnight previously, but shortly after that came calamity: a mix-up between
Jack and Saurabh saw them both at the same end after an attempted second run,
and Jack had to go for a dogged, determined 57. He’d built the foundations; now
we had to push the scoring on.
Cometh the hour, cometh Basit. I’ve seen him bat, and boy
can he bat. He’s a livewire: bristling with energy and determination, and – in tandem
with Saurabh – laid waste to Derek and Mark. Forty runs were plundered in three
overs, including a huge six off Derek the ball after Simon had dropped Basit in
the deep. 150 flew past, and finally we were posting a total we could
realistically defend. Saurabh rotated the strike and Basit was finding the gaps
previously closed to us, running hard twos and pressurising the field. The two
of them brought up their fifty partnership with the first ball of the last
over, but with the second ball Basit went for one big hit too many and was
excellently caught by young Ben. The next ball saw Saurabh call for two when
only one run was on, and the unlucky Ian Bawn found his wicket sacrificed at
the altar of quick runs without facing a ball. Welcome to the Platinum Duck
club, Bawny. Saurabh had time for one more pull shot for four before being caught
off the last ball of the innings, a superb take by Dev on the square-leg
boundary, and we had finished on a scarcely-believable 176/9. Sixty-nine runs
had come from the last seven overs. Basit had finished with 30 and Saurabh an
excellent 33 (plus two run-outs)…but all that running between the wickets was
merely a precursor for more serendipity whilst we fielded.
Tea-time saw the now-regular inspection of Joe Gunewardena’s
lunch box. This week, following on from his previous offerings of six digestive
biscuits and six almond slices, he’d brought himself two packets of
mini-Cheddars and what looked like four or five malted milks; we launch our “#FeedJoe”
appeal this Friday.
Sujanan and John “Killer” Smither opened the bowling for us
against Simon Clare and Ian Lemon, and Simon soon looked in good touch. Killer
provided the openers with some moments of concern and they were very good off
their pads against Suj, but it didn’t seem to matter how tight we kept it, runs
trickled along. Just like in our previous games, toil and luck were about as
far apart as Castlemaine and Castleford, and apart from Simon being perilously close
to being run out from a direct hit, chances weren’t presenting themselves.
Then, in the 12th over, we finally made a breakthrough. It came the
ball after Simon had chipped one wide of me at midwicket; I leapt at it and got
my hand to it but couldn’t wrap my fingers around the ball, and it fell to the
ground. Killer then bowled his worst ball, a full-toss right in the slot for
Ian to cream for four…only the ball sailed to Andrew “Safe Hands” Counihan at
mid-off instead, and he never drops those.
Then came another of those serendipitous moments. Saurabh,
having chased a pull to the leg-side boundary and stopped a couple of runs,
went to field the next ball and felt his hamstring go. Not only did that leave
me with an injured player in the field (and we swapped him with Richard at
slip), but it had robbed me of a bowler. Shakil, promoted up the order to get
more batting time, was only supposed to bowl four overs; now, with Saurabh out
of the attack before he’d started, he’d have to bowl a full eight.
Ian and Basit took over the bowling, and Basit immediately
got turn and bounce from the pitch. A battle worthy of the Coliseum between
Basit and Simon unfolded before us; Basit, turning the ball prodigiously across
Simon, who either defended and missed or played the bowling well. Both would
give each other a knowing smile from time to time. At the other end, Stuey
Elleray was happy to rotate the strike which meant five runs an over were being
scored without any discomfort, until Simon offered Joe a difficult skied chance
on the boundary which Joe just couldn’t hold on to. Drinks were taken with
Sanderstead 97/1 and in no trouble at all; the sun was shining and the light
was strong, and the earlier showers that had briefly christened the ground had
disappeared for good. The pitch contained no demons. Simon grew increasingly
confident facing Basit, who received zero success for his excellent endeavours,
and the fifty partnership was brought up as their score breezed past 100.
Shakattack was immediately into his groove bowling up the
hill, while at the other end, Joe came on to bowl. He had appeared to have developed
a new/old style of bowling: the Victorian, pre-Grace speciality of round-arm.
As his first ball was smashed into Sanderstead High Street by Simon, I loudly
questioned his style of bowling from long-off, and wondered whether he’d like
to bowl over-arm instead. When he did, in his next over, the difference was
immediate: Simon, on 75 and having been dropped one more time by Killer in the
deep (running in to take a difficult diving catch, he had his hands around the
ball only for it to spill from his grasp as he hit the floor), tried to paddle
Joe around the corner to fine leg, only for the ball to loop up off the bat and
into the grateful gloves of Jack. That was the 29th over:
Sanderstead were 139/2, needing 37 more runs to win. Game over…or so it seemed.
Joe was suddenly unplayable. His arm was high and his famed
loop and air had returned; after conceding 15 off that first over, his next
three produced a debit of just eight runs. Meanwhile, Shakil had placed a
tourniquet around Stuey Elleray and Sofiane; the off-side was packed to
compliment his off-and-middle line and length, and the scoreboard had ground to
a halt. Basit and Suj had brought an astounding energy to the fielding that
only comes with youth and a set of limbs untroubled by age, and as the
boundaries dried up, so did the ones and twos. Stuey tried to take a run but
was run out by a combination of Suj and Jack, but surely this mini-collapse was
surely nothing more than that; Sanderstead needed 33 off eight overs, or 48
balls. We were never going to take the rest of the wickets, and surely were
playing for nothing more than the opportunity to make them fight for every run
they needed.
If that was the script, Shakil and the returning Suj simply
ripped it up. Shakil conceded just nine scoring strokes off his entire eight
overs, and finally got just reward in his seventh over when Mark Hughes drilled
one back to him and he held on to a smart catch. At the other end, Suj was a
different bowler. He returned to the attack full of fire and bursting with
pace, and after beating Sofiane’s bat he cleaned him up with a ball that was
simply full and fast. Then, in the same
over, Tom was stranded in the middle of the wicket as Basit’s throw was scooped
up and the stumps rearranged. The 37th over closed, and Sanderstead
had suddenly stalled at 154/6. Twenty-three needed off eighteen balls. The
tension was palpable. Ian Bawn returned once Shakil had finished with 1/16 off
his eight overs, and only conceded one run from his first over back – Ben and
Dev were at the wicket, twenty were needed off twelve balls. Ben can hit a mean
ball and slashed at Suj’s penultimate delivery, sending the ball flying to the
third man boundary to break the shackles, but only three more runs came from
the rest of the over. With ball in hand, Ian Bawn had the final six balls to
defend fourteen runs.
Ben started with a good hit for two, then blocked the next
two balls. Thirteen needed from three. The fourth ball yielded a single whilst
screams for a second run to be taken rent the air; it was now or never: twelve
from two balls. Dev was good enough to hit two sixes, we all knew that, but Ian’s
fifth ball was flatter and Dev could only hammer it into the leg-side outfield
where Basit was prowling; it was soon back in Jack’s hands, two runs had been
taken, and they needed ten runs from the final ball. All Ian had to do was
avoid bowling a wide or no-ball, and we’d won. Dev was cursing himself; he hadn’t
realised it was the last over, and thought there was still a couple left in the
day. He knew we’d somehow contrived a win from a losing position. Defiantly,
Dev struck the last ball of the game powerfully over the fence towards the
scorebox; through its small window it sailed with a loud wooden clatter, almost
decapitating the scorer in the process. From Sanderstead needing just 36 runs
to win from their last ten overs, the Boars had won by just three runs having
conceded just 21 runs in eight overs leading to the finish. We’d turned it
round in a manner we’d never done before, certainly not in my six years’
captaincy. Sure, as I said at the top, we’ve thrown away lots of advantageous
positions in the past against all manner of teams, but the dice had never
rolled in our favour. Tom and his players were as gracious and classy in defeat
as we’d expected them to be, and a twinge of sympathy was felt for Simon, who’s
75 looked like it had paved the way for a cruise to the finish line.
Everyone had made a difference: Killer had made the first
breakthrough; Suj’s second spell was death bowling at its fiery finest; Basit
provided control with the ball, fireworks with the bat and urgency in the
field; Shakil had strangled the batsmen into unconsciousness; Joe had provided
the decisive moment by dismissing Simon; Jack’s 57 paved the way for the later acceleration
and Saurabh’s 33 – and some fantastic fielding on one leg in the slips area –
was another link in the chain. As for Sanderstead, they were extremely unlucky.
Ben is a bowler who’s pace will be causing some intestinal quivering in two or
three years, and I’ve had nightmares about Milan ever since. Dev and Darren
Budden had us nailed to the floor, Simon and Stuey batted with a calmness and
fluency that had sucked all the hope out of us at one point, and their fielding
had been on point.
Back at the clubhouse, the beer was cold – very cold. The
two teams grouped side by side, happily chatting away, laughing and joking as
the light drew in and the dusk settled over the Old Saw Mill. Once again, it
had been a fantastic day’s cricket; we’d been at a lovely ground and played a
great set of players. Here’s hoping for a repeat fixture next year…and the
salons of Merton will once again be called into action.
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