THORNBURY II

One of the few balls I faced in this weeks game.

"A man's errors are his portals of discovery."
~ James Joyce (1882-1941) Irish novelist.

This week we played Thornbury as the second part of our split round. Again it was at our Como Park home and there seemed to be a sense of déjà vu as I arrived for the game to see many of the same people from both sides going through their pre game routines.

After last weeks heart breaking loss that replicated the dramatic loss against the top team National CC the week before, I was hell bent (as I am sure were the rest of my team mates were) to finish the first half of the season off with a win. We really should have won last week.

What would we do differently this week? Firstly, our plans in dealing with Thornbury batsman Hagan who compiled a match winning fifty five in last week’s game were certainly going to be different. Last week we failed to restrict Hagan’s pet shot of planting his left foot down the pitch and smacking the ball back over the bowlers head. This week we resolved to plant two good fieldsmen at mid on and mid off and set them back a little to virtually dare Hagan into committing Hari Kiri. Would Hagan fall for such an obvious trap? I certainly thought he wouldn’t be able to resist.

As per usual, we were batting first and instead of being slated to go in at number three as is my custom, I was penciled in at number four to allow the brilliant Ben Higgins to come in at number three. “Hurricane” Higgins is a young lad in his late twenties who stars for our South Yarra CC First Eleven. To this point Hurricane was averaging 116.33 and we thoroughly expected that he would tear Thornbury to shreds. Hurricane ever the self effacing chap that he is certainly did not make any lofty proclamations.

Also new to the team this week were Santosh a young medium fast bowler joining his room mate and country man Vishnu in bolstering our bowling battery. Alun “Tinker” Hume the Yarras resident Irishman who had been missing so far this season due to spending time up in the Northern parts of the country. Conrad De Souza was also back after an extended absence with a broken finger. So in terms of batting and bowling, our team was considerably strengthened, so I was feeling rather confident of reversing last weeks result.

Mr Natural and Strachany got us off to a solid start scoring at about three runs an over. It was good sensible batting that was only marred by Nat not grounding his bat when running a two off a lusty Strachany stroke thus having it reduced to a single. All that effort expended for just one run. Not exactly a hanging offence, but it was the prelude for what was to happen next.

The lads were just starting to get themselves in a position to launch an assault on the Thornbury bowlers when the first wicket fell in the most unusual circumstances. Strachany walloped a delivery over mid on and an easy three runs beckoned. As the lads ran, Strachany started to almost lap the less svelte Mr Natural. As they crossed each other mid pitch for the second run, Strachany in frustration bellowed “come on Nat” in obvious frustration at a certain three being reduced to two runs due to Nat’s inability to keep up the pace. Somehow, Nat misunderstood and interpreted the “come on” to imply “let’s run a third”, even though the ball was already nearly in the bowlers hand as he stood perched over the stumps. Nat comfortably made his ground as the bowler took the ball over the stumps when Nat inexplicably turned and started running a few paces in the opposite direction – all this while the shocked bowler was standing by the stumps with the ball safely in his hand wondering what the hell Nat was doing. It was with unexpected glee that he whipped off the bails with Nat standing all of two meters out of his ground bewildered at what had just transpired.

Surely he must have seen that the ball was already in flight to the bowler’s hands as he was just about to complete the second run? Nobody could possibly have that little awareness…surely? My mind immediately cast back to round one when Nat accidently ran me out when a comfortable single was there to be had when he watched the ball rather than respond to the call or at the very least negate the call. So keeping that in mind, it was perhaps not such a surprise that Nat had met his demise in such bizarre circumstances. Nat made sixteen and looked set to tee off until his brain explosion.

Hurricane Higgins entered the fray with the score sitting on 1 for 42, a wonderful platform for this prodigy to launch an assault on the Thornbury bowlers and put us in an unassailable position. Hurricane and Strachany advanced the score to sixty five when Strachany departed for a well made twenty five. In their partnership of twenty three, Hurricane had contributed a subdued two runs. Apparently, this is par for the course for Ben Higgins who by all accounts starts off each innings in a very careful, watchful manner until he sizes up the bowlers and conditions and then proceeds to annihilate all comers.

I walked out to bat in the unfamiliar number four slot – I am fairly certain the first time in my cricketing life that I have batted in this position. The score was 2 for 65 and Benny Higgins was at the crease – I was already thinking to myself, “I just have to rotate the strike over to Hurricane and he will make it happen – and then when I have got my eye in, I will be able to join in the carnage”. At least that was the plan.

Ben "Hurricane" Higgins readies himself to give this ball the full treatment.

As I reached the centre, Hurricane offered “it is coming through straight up and down with the occasional one keeping a little low – you will be fine. It is the end of the over, so you don’t have to face first up”. Reassuring words from a master batsman, so I felt quite confident that I was not only going to get to bat with someone I respect enormously, but that we would knock up a big partnership to boot.

I looked down at the pitch and it was dry and cracked with a one inch by a one and half inch hole in the middle of the pitch just short of a length at one end. I tried not to worry too much as sometimes some pitches look worse than what they end up playing.

Coinciding with my arrival at the wicket was a Thornbury bowling change. Thornbury bowler Evan Kane paced out his run up and I had to almost do a double take at this bloke who could not have even been five foot tall. Throw in the fact that Kane is also completely devoid of any hair and I was somewhat flummoxed as to how this little guy was going to make any impact on the mighty Hurricane Higgins.

Kane ambled in and flighted a top spinner that Hurricane stroked along the ground to mid on where there was no run. The next delivery by Kane pitched just outside leg stump, spun off the pitch and crashed into Hurricanes outstretched pad with his bat missing the ball as it unexpectedly kept a little low. “Hurricane is sizing him up here before he goes wham” I thought to myself. The next delivery was pitched in pretty much the same spot and again it crashed into Hurricanes outstretched pad. “This is looking a lot more difficult than I expected…this little bloke can bowl!”

The very next delivery Kane pitched the ball a fair bit shorter. It seemed like a stock leg spinner but pitched in line with the stumps. Hurricane seeing how short it was instinctively moved back and across and took an almighty swipe attempting a big pull shot. The ball barely spun, but it kept wickedly low and it cannoned into Hurricanes right thigh as he was in full follow through from this attempted big stroke. It was smack bang in line with the stumps and my heart was in my mouth as the Thornbury players went up in unison. The umpire had no hesitation in raising his finger in the affirmative.

Hurricane was out for two and I think I needed smelling salts to revive me as I had gone into shock. Next batsman in was Alun “Tinker” Hume the genial Irishman. “We’ve got to rebuild the innings here Tinker” I said and Tinker nodded his head in agreement. The next two balls from Kane gave Tinker a bit of difficulty.

The next over was the last over before drinks and I was finally going to be facing up. The Thornbury bowler John Viner bowls at speeds that could be considered medium to fast medium. His first delivery to me slid down the leg side and I was unable to get any bat on it. The second delivery was pitched up into my pads and I peeled off a nicely timed on drive for an easy single. It was a relief to get off the mark early and I proceeded to watch the remainder of the over as Tinker nearly got himself out by thumping an off drive straight to short mid off where the force of the shot broke through the hands of the fieldsman breaking his finger and running away for us to run two. The rest of the over was uneventful with Tinker taking a single off the last ball and we trudged off to drinks with my mind racing as to how we were going to kick start our innings. I knew nothing of Tinkers abilities as a barn storming batsman.

Alun "Tinker" Hume playing with a copy book straight bat in his heroic innings.

Tinker faced the first over after drinks from Kane and was immediately like Hurricane in some bother dealing with the leggy. Tinker then breathed a massive sigh of relief when he chopped a delivery from Kane just millimeters past his leg stump and we ran a single. As I stood up to take strike against Kane for the first time, all that went through my mind was “play the first few defensively to get a feel of what he is doing”.

Kane’s first delivery floated towards me and I took a stride down the wicket with my bat next to my pad to smother the spin. The ball drifted down the leg side and pitched about six or so inches beside my right foot hitting the bowlers foot marks on the crease. By the time I turned around I heard ball hitting wood and the whoops of joy from the Thornbury wicket keeper and surrounding fieldsmen. The ball had clipped my leg stump. I had been bowled around my legs – a freak delivery.

I trudged off with a couple of the Thornbury players yelling out “Warney” in appreciation of what their leg spinner had just done. I was angry at myself thinking of ways that I should have combated this delivery. I could have stepped to leg and let it hit my pad – it would never be given LBW…I could have…

As I took off my padding and I started to calm down, I began to realize that there was precious little I could have done to have dealt with such a great ball that was the first I had faced from this bowler. It was a magnificent delivery that Kane himself never replicated for the rest of the innings which led me to believe that it was simply a freak delivery that he did not intend.

That is cricket sometimes.

Nashi "False" Alam turns one to leg.

Nashi came in next and inspite of some lucky escapes batted sensibly and hung in there with a rampant Tinker going on the attack. With each smacked boundary from Tinker, I could almost hear the chorus of “You can’t beat the Irish”. Tinker was playing a blinder. Nashi was eventually out for a stubborn ten and in tandem with Tinker had advanced our score by forty seven to 5 for 115. Conrad in his comeback innings strode in at number seven and with Tinker put on a partnership of forty eight when Tinker was eventually controversially deemed run out when he looked to be marginally in for a sparkling sixty one.

There was still time in the innings for Vishnu to smash a towering six as he and Conrad and then Willo took the score up to 7 for 181 off our forty five overs. A competitive total and I felt with a bit of luck – enough to win this game. Nothing can be taken for granted however, as we have already painfully found out the previous two weeks where we lost both times at the death after looking in control.

Vishi took the new ball along with Willo, but unlike last week, neither bowler was able to make any inroads into Thornbury’s top order. Both bowlers were economical, but unable to make any impression on this deck that seemed to be getting slower. Santosh was brought on at first change for his first spell for the Yarras and with immediate success. Bowling a beautiful line Toshy got the much needed break through bowling Patrick Barry for a laborious twelve. The score was 1 for 46 and we breathed a sigh of relief as the Thornbury openers looked rather untroubled.

Next in was last weeks match winner for Thornbury, the attacking Amesbury Hagan. As earlier mentioned, all week I had been thinking of how to counter Hagan who had top scored last week with a buccaneering fifty five largely scored through planting his left foot down the pitch and heaving the ball back over the bowlers head with apparent disregard for the mid on and mid off fielders. Strachany set the mid on and mid off a little deeper than normal and we dared Hagan to take on the bowler and the field.

Hagan played some risky strokes as he did the week before, but this time he clearly looked restricted in his options and the pressure of the tight bowling was slowly suffocating him. Eventually, Hagan was dismissed by Toshy when he could not resist sparring at a delivery just outside his off stump – the much talked about “corridor of uncertainty” - and outside edged a catch to the keeper the irrepressible Tinker Hume who held onto a splendid catch. At 2 for 62 and having seen the back of Hagan, I felt that barring any unforeseen heroics from Thornbury’s middle order, we were well on the way to victory.

I hadn’t counted on the stubborn resistance of Johnny Viner who was batting beautifully. It should have come as no surprise, because last week Viner played the supporting role to Hagan’s match winning fifty five with a gutsy forty five himself sharing in a game turning partnership of eighty for the third wicket which brought Thornbury in sight of victory. Here he was again attempting to rally the Thornbury cause by batting with intelligence and skill.

Hazelman and McMath fell soon afterwards within one run of each other to bring the total to 4 for 72. Viner was playing a lone hand and it was apparent that as soon as we secured his wicket – the citadel would fall. And so it proved. Benny Higgins in a wonderful spell removed Viner when the latter attempted a risky shot and was caught.

By now I was so certain that we would win the game that my interest turned to the game being played on the oval alongside ours. Our First Eleven were playing against Monash University Gryphons and were marching toward victory in the most emphatic manner. As the afternoon wore on, we (Ben Higgins and I) noticed that South Yarra opening batsman Kim Price was still there.

Now Kimba has been in sensational form all season and would quite possibly be the most in form batsman in the MCA competition along with the one and only Ben “Hurricane” Higgins. Unfortunately for Kimba, he had made a sequence of excellent scores in the seventies and sixties without cracking the ton. His highest score had been ninety six compiled on the last day of the 2008/2009 season. Here he was surely about to break this barrier and post his first ton.

“He must be getting close by now?” I asked Hurricane and he agreed. Eventually we heard whoops of joy emanating from the Como pavilion and Kimba raising his bat in triumph…then a strange thing happened, first myself and then Ben Higgins broke out into spontaneous applause soon followed by practically every member of our team. We had stopped our game momentarily and we were all facing the other pitch giving Kimba an ovation and Kim didn’t let us down, after saluting his team mates in the pavilion, he turned and raised his bat in salute at us - his fellow club mates – on the adjacent oval.

Kim "Kimba" Price takes guard.

It was a magic moment that is very hard to put into words – but I am certain that Kim would have been delighted that he scored his maiden Yarras century at home where he was saluted from all directions. Kim is a lovely bloke and everybody was delighted for him. May this be the first of many!

Back to our game, the denouement was being played out and with each wicket we marched on closer to victory until Chips Pringle captured the last wicket and we could celebrate a good win. Toshy took 4 for 19 off nine overs of controlled medium fast bowling. Hurricane Higgins took 3 for 18 with his medium pacers and a fine catch to boot. It was a wonderful feeling to prosper in the last game before the Christmas break. Afterwards in the pavilion Strachany awarded joint Man of the Match awards – to Tinker Hume for his gutsy sixty one which rescued our innings and to Toshy whose four wickets included crucial top order incisions which were vital to our chances.

All up it was happy day and a nice way to go into the Christmas hiatus. I hope that we can finally start winning the crunch moments more often in games and win more games – we have deserved a lot more than our paltry two wins so far this season.

Anyways, I hope everybody out there has a happy Christmas and Happy 2010!

See you all soon!

Vic Nicholas
Melbourne
AUSTRALIA

THORNBURY - CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE WORST KIND

“When angry, count to four. When very angry, swear.”
~Mark Twain (1835-1910) American humourist, writer and lecturer.

Many days later and I am still trying to contain my anger. It was that sort of day.

Before the start of play, I noticed that my camera wasn’t working for some reason. Afterwards, I discovered that the battery was nearly flat, but other than the shutter not working, everything else was fine. So no photos this week.

We lost the toss and were put in to bat. Nothing new there. Strachany decided to open the batting with Mr Natural to try and get the innings off to a faster start. I had suggested this at the start of the season, but Strachany ever the modest self effacing soul declined. However, today was the day he was going to give it a go and see if he could personally get things moving a bit faster.

The lads too strike and it was obvious that Nat was not himself. I must explain that we had our club karaoke the night before and aside for some very heavy drinking, Nat did not get home until 6:30am…come to think of it, neither did Strachany. So we had two very hung over batsmen out there. Strachany seemed to bat better hung over, whereas Nat looked pale as a ghost. Strachany from the first started to play some dare devil shots, but Mr Natural was looking like he wanted to find a hole to crawl into to die. So it was no surprise when Nat was out soon after caught at short leg to what looked like a bump ball to us on the side line, but was assuredly a catch according to both batsmen out in the middle.

I entered the fray very early, but I felt a strange calm come over me. I felt good – not least because unlike my teammates, I had a full nights sleep, but also because the conditions seemed to be just about perfect. The temperature was a comfortable twenty two degrees with a nice breeze and the pitch had some green in it, but over all seemed to be playing true.

As I was about to take strike I noticed that Thornbury had a short leg in place wearing a helmet, and I thought to myself, “if the opportunity arises, I am going to sweep or pull one straight into him as hard as I can and take him out”. With that sadistic thought I took block. The first ball delivered to me by Thornbury fast medium bowler Gary Newman was a slightly over pitched Yorker that I met with the full face of the bat and caressed it past mid on for two.

That felt nice. It just pinged off the middle of the bat and I could not help thinking that it was nice to get off the mark so quickly compared to last week which took about five overs of struggle. For some reason, I simply knew that the next ball would be short pitched and as it came out of Newman’s hand I was already waiting on my back foot and I swiveled and played a neat pull shot straight to the deep fielder for a single. Three runs off my first two balls…it really did feel to be a good day.

In the coming couple of overs, I only played one false stroke and that was off Newman who saw me coming down the pitch to him (for some reason I premeditated a charge) and he dropped it short in front of me as I advanced to drive. So I quickly checked my stroke rather swinging through the line and the ball popped up and floated over the bowler and just out of Mid On’s reach. A stroke of luck as I should have gone through with the stroke as it would have sailed half way to the unguarded boundary if I did.

I did have another awkward moment off the same bowler when a ball struck my pad at the same time as I swiped the top of my pad with the bat creating a noise that sounded similar to an edge because of the timing and the ball ricocheting to the right of short leg who took a spectacular diving catch as the Thornbury players celebrated what they were certain was a bat pad catch. I stood my ground nervously wondering if the umpire saw my bat hit pad and not the ball. Luckily, he did and gave me not out.

Coming on from the other end was the left arm bowler Adrian Blackburn who not only bowled accurately, but swung the ball away at a reasonable speed. I played and missed a number of times, but also played some reasonable shots that unfortunately went straight to fielders.

I still had time to play a nice cut shot off Newman, but unfortunately only got a single for my efforts. I was playing an over from Blackburn and starting to feel more and more comfortable when Blackburn finally dished up a widish full delivery that was ripe to be smashed through the covers. I play a big cover drive, but the ball snuck under the toe of my bat, onto the ground and then commenced its upward trajectory to the keeper. A bump ball. So I was unconcerned when the Thornbury players appealed enthusiastically for caught behind. Surely the umpire would be intelligent to realize that any ball passing under and catching the toe of the bat can only go down first before going up?

Apparently not, because after a pause of a few seconds the umpire gave me out. At this point I yelled down the pitch “you have to be kidding…it has come off the toe of the bat into the ground and then to the keeper!” A player can be cited for showing dissent, but I kept enough control so as not to go overboard. Strachany then cautioned down the pitch “No VB” as a reminder that if I carried on any longer, I would surely get into trouble. However, I had made my point and I started my walk off muttering curses under my breath.

Ben McLean passed me as the next man in and set about with Strachany to building a decent foundation to our innings. Ben is a guy who has worked diligently on his game and has improved with each year at the Yarras. A padlock defense and the ability to find gaps are the hallmarks of Ben’s game and this day he did not let us down. With Strachany in season best form, the two of them put on a valuable partnership of fifty five with Strachany the aggressor and Benny McLean dropping the sheet anchor.

Strachany was eventually out for a highly entertaining forty eight. Thornbury appealed for caught behind and the umpire demurred only for Strachany to walk when in all likelihood he would have been given not out. No one could ever doubt Strachany’s sportsmanship, however, later events would cast a different light on this selfless and honest act.

Strachany’s forty eight was a far from chanceless innings, but having said that, after all the bad luck Strachany has had so far this season, it seemed only fitting that he would finally get a slice of luck go his way. One incident summed up Strachany’s innings to a tee. Strachany played an awful shot that ballooned straight to the fielder. While the ball was in its arc, Strachany started running just in case the catch went down. As luck would have it, the Thornbury fieldsman dropped a sitter, but if that wasn’t enough, Benny McLean had been watching the ball and had not responded to Strachany’s call and both batsmen were virtually at one end. While Strachany was lucky to be dropped, surely the fieldsman would make amends by running him out by virtually the length of the pitch?

Don’t bet on it!

The fieldsman in his enthusiasm, threw his return wildly and no one from the fielding team could get a hand on it – so not only had Strachany avoided being caught or run out, the ball flew away for four over throws handing Strachany five runs for his horrible shot!

When it is your day – it is your day!

Benny McLean continued on with his carefully crafted innings, but unfortunately the unlucky Nashi Alam was run out for a “diamond duck” (where the batsman does not get to face a ball). Craig Nott strode to the crease looking very confident as he joined Benny to push our score further along. Soon after, disaster struck when “Black” Nott pulled his quad muscle badly thus necessitating that he had to bat on with a runner. Strachany went back out to do the honours. Craig Nott then smashed a glorious six to show that while he could not run, he was still deadly with a bat in his hands. Things were going well when yet another umpiring blunder swung the momentum of the game. Craig played a shot away for a comfortable single. The fieldsmen threw the ball to the bowlers end and the bowler whipped off the bails with the Thornbury players erupting in an ecstatic appeal.

The umpire looked up and saw that Craig Nott was still standing at the strikers end and that Ben McLean had joined him at that end…so in perverse relief at how simple this decision seemed to be, he gave Craig run out by the length of the pitch. What the umpire had forgotten and seemingly the Thornbury players as well, was that Craig had employed Strachany as a runner and Strachany was NOT out of his ground when the bowler broke the stumps, but was past the stumps and in by nearly two meters. It was clearly a massive gaffe and the umpire realized he had made a mistake within seconds of making the decision– but the umpire did not reverse his decision and even more disappointing, the Thornbury captain Blenkiron made no attempt to recall Craig Nott as he trudged disconsolately off the ground after making an impressive and comfortable fifteen.

Remarkably, that was two weeks in a row that Craig had been given out incorrectly after being given out caught from a chest high full toss against nationals the week before. Talk about rough luck. Notty and Benny had put on twenty nine runs together before their innings was terminated in this unfortunate manner.

Timmy Miller came in and immediately started turning over the strike and playing smart cricket as he is capable of doing. Then as the partnership with Benny reached nineteen, Tim edged one through to the keeper in much the same manner as Strachany, and like Strachany, was given not out. Just like Strachany again, he honourably walked. Ian “Chips” Pringle came and went quickly and then Vishnu entered the fray and made an immediate impact smacking a two and then a boundary. Vishi then smashed one in the direction of square leg that was absolutely flying. A foot either side of the square leg fieldsman and it was four runs all the way. However, the ball unerringly slammed into the hands of the Thornbury fieldsman who held onto a super catch.

Benny McLean was eventually bowled out in the last over trying to smash quick runs for a stoic thirty one and our innings ultimately closed on 9/159 after our compulsory closure of innings at the forty five over mark.

I felt that we needed about fifteen runs more, but also reasoned that if this season was any form guide, Thornbury had struggled to get to one hundred most weeks and had a top score of 146. So I was quietly confident that we should be able to route them.

In his first game for the Yarras, Vishnu took the new ball and almost immediately had the Thornbury captain Blenkiron caught behind with a big nick that flew almost to first slip where keeper Timmy Miller took a splendid catch. Amazingly, the same umpire that had given me out incorrectly, Notty out incorrectly and had blundered on both Strachany and Timmy’s decisions where both saved his blushes by walking again was in tehs potlight when he gave the decision not out much to our chagrin. Timmy Miller is very non demonstrative sort of bloke as you would expect from someone who is a university lecturer by profession, but he was so incensed by the umpires huge mistake that he turned to Blenkiron and in a loud voice that was just a few decibels below shouting said “why don’t you walk?”

The batsman has a right to hold his ground of course – but after two of our batsmen had walked and two others had been given out incorrectly, a bit of honour would have been appreciated. In any case, in his next over Vishnu trapped Thornbury opener Pat Barry LBW for three for his first Yarras wicket. Thornbury batsmen Hagan and Viner both dug in for a critical match defining partnership.

Viner batted doggedly for the most part as opposed to Hagan who played a more aggressive game with some risky stroke play. I lost count of the amount of times Hagan planted his foot straight down the pitch and lofted the ball back over the bowlers head each time somehow avoiding the mid on or mid off fieldsmens clutches by centimeters. The one time Hagan did loft the ball directly to a fielder, the normally reliable Strachany dropped what he would normally catch with his eyes closed on any other day.

We were rather flat for most of the afternoon, but we seemed to grow flatter and flatter as the Viner and Hagan partnership grew. At 2 for 118 with both batsmen in control, the game looked to have slipped beyond our grasp. Thornbury only needed a further forty two runs and with plenty of wickets and overs in hand – a Thornbury win started to look like a formality.

Suddenly, “Chips” Pringle lured Viner down the pitch and floated they ball past the Thornbury batsmans despairing swipe to have him cleverly stumped by the alert Timmy Miller. 3 for 118 and we suddenly awoke from our torpor. Within minutes, Sandosh brilliantly fielded the ball and rifled his return to Corky Miller who whipped off the bails with the batsman out of his ground. 4 for 121 and we could sense panic starting to creep into the Thornbury camp.

I kept thinking that we had to somehow get rid of Hagan who had brought up his fifty and was still there. We needed to slightly drop back the mid on and mid off and put two excellent catchers there as I knew Hagan could not resist going for his pet shot. Ben McLean seemed to read my mind as he called out to Nashi at Mid Off to switch with him at cover. Within two balls of the switch being made, Hagan again lofted Chips Pringle and this time Ben McLean got underneath the skier and made no mistake taking an excellent catch. Nice one Benny!

5 for 127 with twenty three runs to get for a win and Thornbury were starting to wobble. With some near suicidal running between wickets and some close the eyes and swing stroke play, Thornbury added a further sixteen priceless runs to get the score up to 5 for 143 and again looked safe. But the Mighty Yarra Fifth Eleven were not dead yet and as so often has happened this year, we conjured another wicket to keep the game alive when Thornbury batsman Taylor was caught and bowled by Benny McLean.

6 for 143.soon became 7 for 144 when Cummings was caught by Vishnu at mid wicket from the bowling of Strachany. Sixteen runs to win for Thornbury and three wickets left for an unlikely win for us. We had really ramped up the pressure and were suddenly buzzing in the field when half an hour earlier it was more like a morgue. The very next ball Strachany trapped Thornbury batsman Collier LBW for a golden duck and it was 8 for 144.

Still sixteen needed and we now only had to get two wickets to win. It was last weeks game repeating itself. Surely this week we could pull off the win? Blackburn joined Newman out in the middle and neither of them looked capable of surviving for very long. Surely, one mistake and we would then have a crack at the number eleven. They swung and missed. They swung and connected scoring some unlikely runs. A mistake had to come? They edged closer and closer when all they needed was four runs to win with nine balls to bowl. Strachany then bowled his only bad ball – a full toss that had “slog me” written all over it and Newman threw his bat at it and connected sweetly much like the Nationals number eleven batsman had the week before. I knew it was four the moment it left the bat.

Sunk by tail enders yet again!

The forth nail biter this year we had lost and the third by tail enders getting the winning runs. Devastation again, but unlike last week where I felt we could not have done much more, this week we did not really play well and the umpiring absolutely gutted what chance we had of winning the game.

The Thornbury lads showed themselves to be a lot more forth coming than the Nationals lads from the week before by coming to our bar and sharing post game drinks with us.

We play them all over again at our home ground this week in a quirk in the fixturing.. I really hope we can turn the tables on them and hopefully get a better rub of the green with the men in white.

More next week!

Vic Nicholas
Melbourne
AUSTRALIA

So Close – Yet So Far Away… NATIONAL CC

End of the over and a mid pitch discussion.

“The never-ending task of self improvement.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (25 May , 1803 – 27 April, 1882) American essayist, philosopher and poet.

After last weeks wash out against National CC at their Fawkner Park home, we were really looking forward to the return bout at our Como Park East oval. National are the competition pace setters having not lost a single game, but we were ready for an ambush. Why were we so confident? For a start, we had our most balanced team in for the year and secondly, we felt that we had been improving incrementally each week and were now a much better team than the one that started the season.

Strachany’s plan was that if we won the toss, we would bat so we could set a score without worrying about chasing targets and run rates etc. Just play our natural game. One thing we have been concerned with all year is that at some point in all our innings, we suffered a flat spot where the scoring rate has been painfully slow which always costs us in the final wash up – especially against the better teams. For this reason, Ricky Derons (a tail ender with a good eye) was promoted to open along side Nat “Mr Natural” Williams in order to get us off to a galloping start.

In theory it was a sound idea, as Rick is an aggressive batsman with a reasonable technique for tail ender who would happily throw the bat around without concern or fear of losing his wicket. So the potential pay off if it worked would be huge to our overall chances.

That was the theory.

The reality after Strachany won the toss and elected to bat was that Nat and Rick had to face up to some rather accurate bowling with side ways movement off the pitch which made scoring rather difficult. The two Indian lads who opened the bowling bowled a tight line with the only “loose” deliveries being very loose and being called wides. So the opportunity to free the arms up and swipe a few boundaries was not presenting itself to our openers.

The barn storming Nat "Mr Natural" Williams in full cry.

Rick and Nat put on twenty five in about ten overs when Rick fell trying to play a big shot and was bowled by Nationals pace man Ganapatineedi. I entered the fray with many negative thoughts on my mind for some odd reason. As soon as I met up with Mr Natural he informed me that there was side ways movement and it was extremely difficult to get the ball away.

I took strike and cautiously played out the over and it was jagging about awkwardly as Nat had said it was. For the next four or five overs, I found it extremely difficult to get anything more than the edge or the toe of the bat onto anything and sometimes the ball just cannoned off my pads for leg byes. I struggled to middle anything at all.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I got off the mark with a stylish leg glance off the front foot off Nationals medium pacer and skipper Jason Ivanecky for a single down to fine leg. After ten overs of this struggle, Nat succumbed while trying to play a push to leg and the ball skying straight up in the air off his leading edge. The Nationals keeper took a fine running catch at about where silly mid on would be standing.

Getting off the mark with a leg glance off the front foot. A picture of classical text book perfection (if I must say so myself!)

So after about ten overs Nat Williams and I had advanced the score by fourteen to thirty nine. My contribution off the bat was all of two. So as Richie Hounslow strode to the wicket, we had it all ahead of us. Richie was looking very determined and was intending to get stuck into the bowlers from the get go.

Richie straight away started playing some solid scoring strokes and I noticed straight away that in Richies approach there was a level of awareness displayed by a batsman that I was unfamiliar with. He was constantly asking the umpire “how many balls left in the over umpire?” and shooting the answer down the pitch to me “two balls left in the over VB…concentrate”.

Nationals brought on a leg spinner by the name of Stewart Irwin who gave the ball a lot of air and got some reasonable turn off the pitch, but his direction and length was all over the shop. He bowled a rank long hop outside leg stump that I pulled off the front foot and the ball raced away. As I turned for the second run, I saw that ball had gone some distance and was certainly four runs – but the umpire didn’t seem to know where the boundary was and apparently, neither did the National fielders and I had to be content with two even though I yelled out half way down the pitch – “come on, that’s four umpire!”.

In the next over from the leg spinner (the last before drinks), he yet again bowled a long hop outside my leg stump, and this time I clobbered the ball even harder than the first time and the ball raced away unequivocally for four runs. With one ball left before drinks, Richie Hounslow called out down the pitch “last ball VB, don’t get out now mate”. As it transpires, the leg spinner Irwin delivered yet another juicy long hop but slightly closer to my leg stump and it took all the restraint in the world to stop myself having a swish at it. It was literally asking to be thumped for a boundary, but my brain kept reminding me “don’t get out now…start again after drinks” and I gently patted the ball to short mid wicket and there was no run.

As we took drinks, I was well aware that I was fatigued and extremely thirsty as I had been batting for about thirteen overs by that stage and it was hot. I took off my helmet and called for my new S.Y.C.C. baggy blue cap. As we walked back to the centre, Richie reminded me that we had to up the ante and take on the field.

A drive through the covers.

We continued where we left off by playing some strong strokes and running sharp singles. Because of my flagging state, I missed a couple opportunities for sharp singles which I was conscious could be costly in the final wash up of the game. So I kept reminding myself, “turn over the strike to Richie and he will do the rest”.

As Richie and I started to get on top of the bowling, I suddenly noticed that the National fielders had gone really quiet and you could hear a pin drop. I thought to myself “these bastards aren’t used to being dominated – they are used to having it all their own way”. In the mean time, Richie Hounslow played a marvelous pull shot for six over square leg and other delightful strokes. I was simply turning over the strike to Richie where possible and was just as much a spectator as our lads on the sidelines to the display of class batsmanship that Richie was putting on.

I started trying to get in on the act as well, by first playing a couple of lofted drives that cleared the infield but not the boundary riders and I ran a single each time. I tried to play a cut to a shortish ball from Irwin the leg spinner, but the ball didn’t so much keep low, as run along the ground. “If he bowls one of those on the same line as the stumps and it keeps low again and I try and cut or pull it, I will be in deep trouble. I will be a candidate for bowled or LBW at this rate” I thought to myself.

Richie reminded me in between overs of my responsibility to the team to stick around with him “don’t get out now, because if you do, it will slow down the scoring rate” Richie warned. I nodded my head fully comprehending, but at the same time determined to play my part in pushing the scoring rate further along and keeping our foot on Nationals throat.

There was enough time for me to have a real scare of being run out. I played an on drive straight to mid on. I thought there was an easy single in it as I set off for the run, but half way down the pitch I realized that I had hit it too well and the ball was already in the hands of the fielder and he was about to wind up and throw at the stumps. I stepped up my pace a bit, but as the throw passed wide of the stumps I breathed a sigh of relief as if the throw was accurate, I would have been short of my ground by about a meter and a half.

Pull shot off the front foot for four runs.

By now it was the start of the thirty second over and I had been batting for nearly twenty two overs. I simply had to smash a few boundaries I felt. My eye was in, my partner was killing them, we had the measure of the bowling…the time was NOW. The leg spinner Irwin bowled a juicy full toss outside off stump – normally something to guide past gully for a single, but I tried to hoick it to square leg which was vacant – so if I connected, it would fly away for four runs. Instead I took a massive swipe and missed. I was angry at myself at having missed this golden scoring chance. The next ball was yet again a short long hop, but this time in line with my stumps. I got onto the back foot and shaped to play a pull shot through square leg when the ball did not spin, it simply did not bounce at all. It skidded through ankle height and rattled my stumps as I swished over the top of the ball.

A drive over the infield. I only got a single for this shot.

As I looked back I noticed that the keepers gloves were pushing through the stumps and that the bails had fallen forwards, not backwards. I looked to the square leg umpire wondering if perhaps he had in his exuberance knocked the bails off with his gloves before the ball bowled me. The umpire signaled to me that the ball had bowled me – which I was already aware of, but he didn’t seem to understand the nature of my query. ie: “did the keepers gloves knock down the bails first?”

It mattered not – I walked off the ground to a standing ovation from team mates with the customary “well batteds” sprinkled amongst the applause. I didn’t raise my bat in acknowledgement as I believe that a batsman needs to at least pass fifty before raising his bat. At the very least hit the winning runs in a tight contest or do something else remarkable in the quest for victory. Maybe I am old school in that regard.

I had made a painstaking twenty one which had spanned twenty one overs. My partnership with Richie Hounslow had yielded fifty one runs in just a tick over ten overs with my share of that being nineteen. We had silenced the previously chirpy Nationals fieldsmen with some attacking stroke play and some sharp running in between wickets. But the partnership could have been so much bigger – but for some horrible bounce, I could have batted on longer. That is turf cricket.

Nashi Alam passed me on the way out as he walked out to bat. Before I had even taken my pads off, Nashi was also dismissed by a ball that did not bounce by Irwin. I was starting to feel bad as I remembered Richies words “don’t get out now, because if you do, it will slow down the scoring rate”. How prophetic was he? Strachany strode out to take up the attack to the bowlers and almost immediately came to notice with an exquisite cover drive for four. It wasn’t to last, soon after Strachany was also bowled by Irwin with yet another one that did not bounce much.

Strachany smacking a boundary in style.

By this stage I was kicking myself for getting out – my dismissal had triggered a mini collapse and had indeed slowed down our scoring momentum as Richie Hounslow predicted it would. Craig Nott entered the fray to join Richie and our hopes now rested on the sixth wicket partnership. The journeyman Notty has played for clubs as diverse as Richmond, Tyabb and the Southerners – so he is a well travelled cricketer. When talking about his game, Notty always talks himself down. So beyond a padlock defense and some deft dabs, we had no idea what he could really do. He once described himself to me earlier in the season as a “nurdler”. After watching Notty and Richie set about dismantling the Nationals bowling attack, I realized nothing could be further from the truth.

Craig Nott smashing a boundary over mid wicket in typically belligerant fashion.

Richard Hounslow and Craig Nott put on seventy three for the sixth wicket in double quick time with some of the most audacious stroke play that I could have imagined. Craig Nott ripped into the Nationals bowlers with a zeal that I was sure he did not have. He smashed deliveries over the infield for boundaries and was in the end dismissed rather unluckily to a delivery that should have been called a no ball as he swatted a chest high full toss from a medium pacer down the throat of a nationals fielder who took the catch only one meter in from the fence.

As the catch was taken from the sidelines we were all jumping and waving yelling to the umpires “no ball…it was a NO BALL!!” Craig Nott had crossed to the other end and quietly asked the umpire why that chest high delivery was not called a no ball?” Nothing controversial or heated about it – but the National captain shot out “I am going to cite you for that!” Seriously, get a grip man.

Richie Hounslow pushing one to mid wicket in his majestic innings of 65 not out.

Craig Nott made an inspired twenty seven and the innings wound down soon after with Richie Hounslow finishing undefeated on sixty five out of a total of 6/185. A good total, but perhaps ten to fifteen runs short of what it should have been. A number of times in our innings the umpires and the National fielders were seemingly confused about what was and wasn’t a boundary, with the result that a number of certain four runs were not called and were thus reduced to twos or ones. We train on the ground and we knew by the distance of where the balls had finished up that they were indeed fours, but the umpires and nationals fielders were less clear about it. I do not for one second think that either party were being dishonest, but it certainly cost us at least ten to fifteen runs. It cost me two further boundaries.

The new ball was taken by Rick Derons and Alex Harris – two more different people you could ever see. Rick is in his thirties and is a quality fast bowler who gets movement off the pitch and Alex is still in high school and has no need for shaving razors. Alex bowls left arm fast medium and has a big future ahead of him.

In the first over of the innings, Rick got us off to a flying start bowling the National opener Marchant for a duck. Not long later, Alex “Bomber” Harris got in on the act and removed Singh for six by yorking the Nationals opener. Two for eight and all of a sudden we dared to dream of pulling off an upset. Very soon afterward, Bomber Harris had Nationals batsman Irwin as plumb LBW as you could ever imagine. The ball would have missed off stump and leg stump, but would have ripped out middle stump about half way up. It ended up being a huge let off for Nationals as Irwin started swinging his bat and collecting boundaries along with his partner Veeramreddy as they blazed away with a partnership of sixty one in double quick time to swing the momentum back in Nationals favour.

It was Rick Derons who got the much needed break through when he trapped Irwin LBW for thirty two and the Nationals score resting on sixty nine. Soon afterwards Richie Hounslow – a veritable one man team – trapped Veeramreddy LBW for twenty five and the score on seventy eight. Just before drinks, Richie Hounslow did it again by capturing the wicket of Ganapatineedi for fourteen and the Nationals score on ninety eight.

At drinks in comparison to our score which was two for forty two before we smashed a further one hundred and forty three in our last twenty two overs, the Nationals were ninety eight…but crucially, for the loss of five wickets. So while they were scoring quickly, they had been losing wickets too. Curiously, none of the Nationals players shared drinks with us as is the customary practice. It looked to me that they were feeling the pressure and they were keeping to themselves. Earlier all but three of their players had snubbed our mid game tea and cakes which was also curious. That is their prerogative, but it is not particularly sporting and I for one, will not be forgetting their stand offish behaviour in a hurry. At the end of the day – a team is a reflection of their captain. I don’t know what my team mates thought about this, but it certainly struck me as disrespectful to snub our hospitality.

I felt that we were one wicket away from exposing their tail. National had been winning their games all season rather easily and their tail enders had not really been exposed to a pressure run chase. So one more wicket would see them capitulate – at least that is what my perception of the state of play was.

Soon after the resumption of play National batsman Apender Gupta looked to be clearly LBW to the bowling of Richie Hounslow but the umpire was unmoved and gave it not out much to our collective disbelief. With this stroke of good luck, Gupta and Sumant Yerra proceeded to throw the bat at will and in the process had numerous lucky escapes with aerial strokes dropping either between or just over fielders. It was uncanny luck, but throughout the day, we had not dropped any catches until the charmed Gupta smashed a delivery as high as it went long. The ball seemed to sit in the air for an eternity and I actually had time to look who was under the ball. I saw Strachany and I thought to myself “good, he is one of a handful of guys in our team who is confident under a high ball and is great catch”. No sooner had I had this thought that Strachany dropped what was ultimately a very difficult catch with the ball striking him near the shoulder.

At that point, the game seemed all but over as Gupta and Yerra had ridden their luck and had brought National within sight of victory. The score was now 5/171 with only fifteen required for victory. We were dead in the water as there were still five overs left to bowl. Craig “Black” Nott who had bowled beautifully without luck then got the big wicket of Gupta…initially we appealed for LBW and the umpire raised his finger only for the ball to roll onto Gupta’s leg stump to bowl him anyway.

Six wickets down and fifteen runs still required…there was still hope that we could pull off an upset. Strachany then threw the ball almost in desperation to Alex “Bomber” Harris who had bowled well in his first spell to take a wicket, but had also been manhandled by the National batsmen as well, so it was a gutsy call by Strachany – but the correct one I thought to myself at the time. Two runs were added to the total when Bomber Harris produced a hum dinger of a Yorker to shatter the stumps of the obdurate Yerra who had made a courageous thirty five.

Through all this, our First Eleven who had won their game in heart stopping circumstances on the next oval wandered over to stand on the boundary and cheer us on. It was really heartening stuff to be supported in such a way and I will never forget the cheers and shouts of encouragement and the invincible feeling it gave me.

The score was now 7 for 173 and fourteen runs were still required for victory by Nationals. We could sense panic coursing through the National camp as what had seemed like a regulation victory a few moments ago, was now becoming a far more difficult prospect. With our collective belief up, Bomber did it again…he bowled another surgical precision yorker that uprooted Burford’s off stump.

Alex "Bomber" Harris, a wonderful opening bowler and high school student with a big future.

Euphoria! 8 for 173 and the Nationals camp was a flurry of activity with pads and protective equipment being adorned, much swearing and general disbelief at what was happening before their eyes. Strachany then replaced the exhausted Nott and bowled the next pressure packed over which the National batsmen scored five priceless runs. It was very tightly bowled over until just one loose ball was delivered and the batsman pounced by smashing it for four runs. Damn.

It was now the forty fourth and penultimate over and Alex Harris was entrusted with the ball for his last over of his second spell. Almost immediately, Bomber Harris produced yet another peach to clean bowl Raj for five and the score was now 9 for 180! Ten balls left and six runs required for victory. It was at this point that I felt like calling out to Strachany to bring everyone in to make running a single suicidal and to also throw down the gauntlet to the National tailenders to attempt a dangerous hit over the top which would probably produce a catch.

I would have only left a deep mid wicket and a deep mid on for the attempted cross batted swipe over the top. Everyone else would be brought close enough in to shut down any quick single and I also would have placed one bloke at short cover and another at short mid wicket. On top of that, without a fine leg in place, I would have instructed the keeper to stand back an extra two meters to ensure that there would be no mishap.

Instead, the field was deep attempting to cut off boundaries, but allowing the possibility to run fairly easy singles as long as they got bat onto ball. With all this tension coupled with our club mates cheering support from the sideline, I didn’t go over to Strachany as I normally would. Bomber Harris then bowled two deliveries in a row that strayed down the leg side and they were both called wides. The second one was finally called a wide after much deliberation by the umpire. Now I didn’t have any objection to these deliveries being called wide per se, but what I did find objectionable was how similar deliveries served up to me which flew untouchable down the leg side were not also called wide. The umpire was clearly feeling the pressure and went trigger happy so to speak.

The target was now four runs to win and there was still eight balls left in the innings. It was a huge moment in the game and I kept thinking, “hit the ball to me in the air and I am going to catch you. Hit it along the ground to me and I am going to run you out”. I was psyching myself up to do something big…now was the moment.

The next delivery by Bomber Harris was a thigh high full toss and the National number eleven batsman, Jason Ivanecky swung hard across the line and “thwack”! The moment it hit the middle of the bat, I had no doubt where that ball was headed. I watched the balls inevitable trajectory high, high, high over head as I had a great view from backward square leg in watching the balls trajectory clear Richie Hounslow who was stationed on the mid wicket boundary. The ball went at least ten meters over his head and nearly ended up in Williams Road.

Six runs. The wild whoops of joy from the National batsmen and team mates on the sidelines told us everything we needed to know. We had yet again managed to lose a game we were in a position to win. The very next ball National were dismissed. So, we had dismissed the top team in forty four overs and had only lost six wickets ourselves, yet we were the losing team…but not losers. We had fought it out to the end and Alex Bomber Harris had been heroic with his three quick wickets at the death to leave him with the figures of 4 for 51 and the deserved man of the match award just over the unlucky Richie Hounslow who made a glorious sixty five not out and took a miserly 2 for 16 off his nine overs.

I was nearly in tears at the end of the game at having gotten so close to pulling off a miraculous victory, but to be denied by a once in a career shot for six by the National number eleven batsman. That is cricket sometimes. We were so close to knocking off the top of the ladder team who were (and still are) unbeaten.

Next time…always next time.

Vic Nicholas
Melbourne
AUSTRALIA

...AND MORE RAIN!

“The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.”
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (February 27, 1807 – March 24, 1882) American educator and poet.

I arrived for this weeks game at Fawkner Park to the worrying scene of our players examining the pitch with the umpires in tow - never a positive sign.

As I got closer, one of the lads - Craig Nott I believe - said "you may as well turn around and go straight back home". As I got closer to teh pitch I could see that while one end weas fine and ready for play, the other end...basically a whole third of the pitch was under water from a leaking cover or simply w3ater seeping in from underneath the covers.

With a water logged pitch, there was only one place to go - and that was back home. As I drove off the rain started pelting down anyway, so our match was pretty much doomed come what may.

It was all massivley disappointing as I was so much looking forward to playing a game at Fawkner Park this season as it one of my favourite grounds with all the lovely trees that surround it - but that is looking hopeless now.

Later that afternoon, I popped around to our hjome ground to find a number of our lads drinking beer on the balcony in quite respectable sunshine - but their game had been washed out too because of the earlier heavy rains and the questionable state of the pitch.

So it was yet another weekend without play and one more weekend without a bat. My last innings seems like a distant memory now it seems that long ago.

I can appreciate that rain is good for a drought stricken land like Victoria, but I am staggered that two weekends in a row have been lost to rain. How often has that happened in drought addled Melbourne in the last decade?

Next Sunday we take on National yet again - but this time at our Como East ground. It is a pity that this week was rained out as we had our strongest line up in all season. Anyway, I hope we can pull out some surprises for National on our home turf this weekend.

As long as it isn't rained out yet again...

Vic Nicholas
Melbourne
AUSTRALIA

RAIN, RAIN...

“Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.”
~Susan Ertz (1894 – 11 April 1985) British fiction writer and novelist

It was not just the primary producers and our drought stricken dams that needed copious quantities of rain over last weekend.

Facing a rather difficult run chase, I spent all Saturday evening pondering the permutations of how our run chase would unfold for there to be a happy outcome for the Yarras Fifth Eleven.

That annoying beast logic kept rearing its ugly head and was cause for many negative alternative outcomes to my almost blinkered belief that somehow we would negotiate this very difficult assignment.

As it started to rain late on Saturday night I started having flashbacks to the rain effected pitch that we encountered against Maccabi only a couple of weeks before. "Just great" I thought to myself. "We have a difficult run chase as it is and now we will be confronted with a blasted green top pitch to further contend with".

I slept uneasily during that Saturday night with dreams of a heroic match winning innings being thwarted by waking every now again to the sounds of extremely heavy rain pelting down outside.

Never once did I countenance the possibility of the game being washed out.

Early on Sunday morning as I was still half in the world of sleep and half conscious - I heard my mobile phone quiver signalling a text message had just come through. I picked up my mobile thinking that perhaps Rakish needed a lift again to the ground. When I looked at the message, it was from Strachany and it simply stated that all MCA matches had been declared washed out for the weekend.

"Hooray!" I thought to myself - I can go back to sleep. And that pretty much summed up a large portion of my Sunday. It was dark and gloomy outside with constant heavy rain falling - so sitting in bed when I finally awoke seemed like a good thing.

As a result, we escaped with a draw - though if I maintain the positivity, perhaps we were denied a famous victory. Who knows?

Anyway, it is now three weeks since I last had a bat under match conditions and that was something not worth cheering about from teh relative comfort of my bed.

This week we play a one day game against top placed team National at Fawkner Park - a venue I have been looking forward to playing at all season due in no small part to its wonderful Oak and Elm trees and sporting boundaries.

It is one of the most picturesque grounds in Melbourne.

More next week!

Vic Nicholas

Melbourne

AUSTRALIA

PARKDALE CC - TOIL

"I've often said: the only thing standing between me and greatness... is me."
~Woody Allen -(December 1, 1935- ) American actor, comedian and screenwriter.

It was a tough day in the field last Sunday.

So tough that even the thought of reliving it by having to write about it was enough to make me shudder. The day was not overly hot due to the fact that a merciful sea breeze swept Parkdale United’s home ground in Mordialloc.

Due to Strachany having to spend most of the weekend in Brisbane (ostensibly visiting family and friends), I was handed the captaincy reigns until Strachany arrived at the ground (direct from the airport). I was excited, scared and concerned all at the same time. It occurred to me very quickly that it is far easier to simply roll up and play as opposed to the hundreds of concerns that are the burden of the captain.

Would we have enough players to even make an eleven? The spring racing carnival and other upheavals had conspired to decimate our playing ranks. With a few ring ins and coaxing back the occasional lapsed Yarra saw us having eleven players with Strachany roping in a bloke to substitute for him until he arrived.

The idea was to bat if I won the toss, but looking at the pitch it looked like it was already crumbling and would take spin as the afternoon wore on, so after consulting Chips Pringle our veteran wily off spinner, I decided that if I won the toss I would bowl. As it transpired, I lost the toss by calling incorrectly and the Parkdale captain had no hesitation in electing to bat, so I was going to get my wish in any case.

I called the lads together ever so briefly and gave them the usual rev up before we field. It was short and to the point. I reminded the lads that one thing that we have been doing wonderfully well all season has been backing each other up in the field, with a lot of positive talk and no recriminations if anyone misfields or drops a catch. Pretty much word for word what Strachany would say, except due to the fact that batsmen were already waiting for us in the middle, much more succinct out of necessity.

I threw the ball to Cameron McKenzie-Smith to open the bowling downwind with Justin Southern to partner him. I then proceeded to set the field trying to put lads in their normal positions and try and keep things as normal as possible.

The first two overs passed with out much ado as both lads bowled a tight line. In the third over Cam dropped short, but the ball didn't get up as much as the batsman calculated it would and he miscued his pull shot which was skied in the direction of mid wicket where Rakish was located. After a few steps back with his gaze fixed skyward, the ball finally stuck in Rakish's hands much to our collective delight.

We got the early break through and I was relieved and delighted at the same time - this captaincy gig certainly has more to it than I had considered prior to Sunday. After six or seven overs (I honestly cannot remember exactly how many) I saw Strachany arrive on his scooter in style like the Fonz. I was bouyed by the sight of our captain, though to be fair, Chips Pringle - a man with extensive captaincy experience - was assisting admirably with field placings and encouragement. Soon enough Strachany was on the field and his usual chirpy self heading the cheer leading from cover.

Soon enough a game turning moment was thrust before me in the shape of a thick edge off the bat of the Parkdale opening batsman Christos Pappas as he attempted to cut a ball too close to him. The ball was literally fizzing through the air as it flew about a meter off the ground and wide to my left. I instinctively launched myself in a goal keeper type of dive and while in mid air and horizontal to the ground, I managed to get both hands to the fast moving ball and in an instant I thought to myself "got it" as the ball stuck in my clasped hands only for gravity to bring me crashing to the turf where the ball was dislodged from my grip when my left elbow jarred upon connecting with the ground.

I was really upset to state the bleedingly obvious. While none of my team mates would have thought anything of it - it would have been a blinder of a catch if I held it - I was disappointed due the fact that I have specifically been practicing taking "impossible" diving catches at training by throwing myself around diving hither and thither and taking eight or nine out of ten of the chances that come my way at training. To drop this catch when it had "stuck" in my hands was galling. It became even more galling as the afternoon wore on as Pappas proceeded to hang around like a Geoff Boycott or Chris Tavare. Barely playing a shot, rarely scoring a run, but a vital cornerstone around which the other Parkdale batsmen rallied around and created partnerships which steadily built the score as the day wore on.

Wickets were hard to come by and the score kept mounting when I dropped yet another catch - this one later in the day when the score was already beyond 200 when one of the Parkdale batsmen played a thumping hook shot off the middle of his bat which flew to me flat at a rapid rate of knots and I simply lost sight of it...not getting a look at the ball until it was too late and I didn't even get a hand to it as it bounced off my stomach just to the right of my belly button. Six inches higher and I would now be nursing broken ribs. Six inches lower and the chances of their being any future descendants of Victor James Nicholas would be remote. The only good thing that came out of it was that my stomach stopped a certain boundary.

Somewhere around this time I was involved in the play of the season so far, though I did not see any of it. Let me explain how and why. The left handed Parkdale batsman played a thunderous cut shot that was flying along the ground and seemingly destined to pass me by about two meters and career to the boundary as there was nobody behind me in my position stationed at deep point.

I launched into a desperate dive to my left and I just managed to get enough of my out stretched left hand onto the ball to parry it towards cover. The batsmen thinking that it was surely going to be four runs until my intervention, then hesitatingly set off on single to salvage something out of this fine shot.

After I got my hand on the ball, I naturally crashed to the turf and hit my head so I did not see what happened next. When I deflected the ball it ran away to cover and straight into the path of Strachany who - as ever - was alert to the situation and scooped up the ball and threw it inch perfect to our keeper Timmy Miller who whipped off the bails to run out the obdurate Pappas. Christos Pappas marathon innings of 52 stretched out over about sixty five overs of painstaking but effective batting.

While all this commotion was going on, I was laying on the ground in the starfish formation staring skywards but in a daze and seeing stars when only clouds were overhead. My first inkling that something had happened was when I heard excited whoops of joy and Strachany walking towards me to see if I was OK...I saw our boys in a huddle and the Parkdale batsman starting to troop off. Strachany's huge smile told me that something miraculous had happened and his "well done mate" confirmed it all.

I really wish at times like this that someone was filming our game with a handy-cam - but my teammates vivid narrative of what happened was just as illuminating as any action replay could ever be.

After what seemed like forever, the day drew to a close when we completed the seventy sixth - and last - over of the day with Parkdales score finally resting on 8 for 251. It was a tough day all round and as we trudged off, I knew that we would have a huge task ahead of us next Sunday in order to come away with the win. We would have to bat out of our skins to make the 252 necessary to win.

The key to the Parkdale score was a number of partnerships and about four batsmen making decent scores - that is exactly what we have to do.

I hope when I next write to you, it will be with the news that we have won.

Here's hoping!

Vic Nicholas
Melbourne
AUSTRALIA

MACCABI AJAX – VICTORY AT LAST!

The victorious Yarras Fifth Eleven. Everyone of us was exhausted when this photo was taken, but it was the sweetest victory!

“Victory is sweetest when you've known defeat.”
~Malcolm S Forbes - (August 19, 1919 – February 24, 1990) publisher of Forbes magazine.


After coming close a number of times, the mighty Yarras Fifth Eleven enjoyed a win on the weekend! Now in the after glow of a tremendous win I can bask in the glory of my teammates heroic efforts….but that would be getting way ahead of the story.

Sunday dawned cloudless and hot. Good news for our not out overnight batsmen in Penny Lane and Connair De Souza, but bad news for our bowlers who were not going to enjoy the same seam friendly conditions as Maccabi had the week before. Our score was a precarious 7/124 and after having a quick look at the rock hard pitch that resembled a road, I also sensed that we had nowhere near enough to defend.

In the opening over of the day, Conrad was softened up with a series of quick balls that were dug in short and then he fell for the sucker punch by misreading the slower ball and spooning a catch to gully for a soft dismissal without adding to his overnight score of ten. Conrad was ropeable at himself for not going on in great batting conditions.

Penny Lane setting off for the run to bring up his fifty.

It was now 8 for 124 and things were not looking too good. Enter Cameron McKenzie-Smith – a barrel chested fast bowler who looks like he indulges in wood chopping in his spare time and he wields his bat more like an axe rather than a blade. Without bothering with the triviality of getting his eye in, “Twin Cam” set about swinging his bat like a lethal weapon and crashed the Maccabi bowlers to the boundary repeatedly. All the while Penny Lane was pushing the ball around as he edged closer to his fifty.

Julian Lane acknowledging the boys cheers.

Penny Lane thumped a boundary that took him to forty nine and then soon after he guided one square and brought up his fifty. A gutsy innings that was exactly what was required under the circumstances. But it was too good to last. On fifty one, Penny was rapped on the pads, but the umpire gave it not out. The very next ball, Penny was again rapped on the pads and this time he was not so lucky as the umpires finger went up.

Penny Lanes fine knock ends as he exits the playing arena with a gutsy 51.

It was a great blow because Twin Cam was going like the clappers smashing boundary after boundary and the score was starting to mount up. As so often happens, Twin Cam fell soon after for an entertaining twenty one and we were all out for 155. I thought considering the conditions we batted in last week, it was not too bad. Penny however didn’t like our chances after experiencing the pitch first hand – “we are f**ked...the pitch is a road, it is not doing anything” was Penny’s first words upon exiting the arena.

Cameron McKenzie-Smith on the rampage during his cameo of 21.

With the day getting hotter and hotter, no hint of greenness in the pitch and an absolutely cloudless sky – I was starting to worry myself. We really couldn’t take a trick as far as conditions went and as we walked out onto the ground to take up our fielding positions, I also noticed that the outfield – in contrast to last week – was lightning fast. So not only were Maccabi going to get a benign pitch compared to the sticky dog we got, but they were also going to get a wickedly fast outfield which would aid them to score quickly. Things were really stacked against us.

Bobby Fisher bowled the first over which passed by uneventfully without any hint of movement or assistance to our bowlers. Twin Cam took the new ball with Bobby and in his first over he uprooted the off stump of the Maccabi batsman Rothschild. Just the start we needed! We geed ourselves up by reminding each other that we needed to keep taking wickets. I knew that on this pitch and with the large amount of overs left, we basically had to bowl Maccabi out in order to win the game.

The plucky little Maccabi wicket keeper Plavin (the venus fly-trap) joined Ben Jones and the two young Maccabi batsmen dug in to take the score to 1 for 24 when Bobby Fisher removed both Plavin and then Jones in a double strike to have us rocking with delight. At 3 for 29 Maccabi were not off to the start that they wanted or needed. The veteran Schneider dug in with the young tyro Fetter for a critical and frustrating partnership. Fetter playing in an orthodox manner looks every inch a future star batsman. On teh other end of the scale, Schneider seems to hold the bat backwards when he is facing up, but somehow spins it around to play with a straight bat and he frustrated our bowlers with his stonewalling. Their partnership was ended when Jason “Torvill” Endean produced a beautifully disguised slower ball to trap Schneider plumb in front with the score now 4 for 57. The next over Connair bowled pesky young Fetter with no addition to the score and it was now 5 for 57. We were half way there – surely they would capitulate now?

Maccabi dug deep yet again in the shape of father and son combination of Ian Jones and Josh Jones. The fast outfield was killing us as each time they found a gap, be it with a well placed shot or a fluky edge - it seemed to fly away for a boundary. The heat was now starting to kick in and I could see from the faces of our players that they were on the brink of total exhaustion. Maccabi were careering towards victory and there seemed little we could do to stop their victory charge as Ian and Josh Jones were batting with relative ease.

"If we can break this partnership up, then we will clean up the tail surely?" I thought to myself. But how were we going to break this partnership – they looked rock solid? Then something happened that swung the game back in our favour. I started to notice that the younger Jones was starting to struggle with the heat. He would bow down after most balls and gasp for air and his foot work became almost non existent. I thought to myself "this lad is out on his feet - it is only his duty to his dad that is keeping him going". Eventually, he could stand no more and he retired hurt and was escorted off the ground with jelly legs where he promptly collapsed under a tree with water being poured over him to try and revive him.

It was a bad break for Maccabi, but for us, it was the chance we needed. Yossi Herbst came in and departed soon after without scoring making it 6 for 98. Eli Herbst also departed for a duck and then in amongst all this carnage the Maccabi captain Ian Jones who had been holding us up was also bowled out after making a brave twenty. It was now 8 for 104. Eli Paneth came and went for a duck and it was now 9 for 104 and Maccabi were dead in the water…or were they?

Josh Jones through this whole collapse was laying flat on his back under a tree barely moving. He did not look any chance at all of coming back in to bat and we debated this amongst ourselves as each Maccabi wicket fell – “will the kid come back out again?”. With the ninth wicket he picked himself up and came back out with a runner. Jones still looked rather unsteady and we all must have thought that this was all rather token and he was not going to survive for long, but survive he did! In fact, he seemed to bat even better than earlier by flashing his bat at anything wide of his stumps and he hit a few boundaries and all of a sudden visions of the freaky ninth wicket partnership that steered Burnley home to an unlikely win in Round One certainly crossed my mind and probably a few of my team mates too.

Our bowlers had toiled magnificently in the heat and here we were one wicket away from victory and all of a sudden these guys were making a charge. I chased away the negative thoughts by thinking to myself, this Maccabi number eleven batsman is not going to survive long enough for Maccabi to pull off an improbable win – surely one good ball will get him. And that is exactly how it played out. Twin Cam was rewarded for some tight bowling by the Maccabi number eleven spooning a catch right back at him which he held. It was his third wicket and his second catch for the day. Bobby Fisher had picked up 5 for 24 in a wonderful display of line and length bowling and Torvill and Connair picked up a wicket each.

In stifling heat we only used four bowlers with each one of them bowling themselves to a stand still and in Connairs case – the point of sickness - as he had to go off after his spell briefly to get a drink as he had completely hit the wall. The bowling group were heroes in my eyes...pure guts and determination.

We were cock a hoop at having secured our first win for the year. There were heroes a plenty as you can imagine. Penny Lane for his gutsy innings, Bobby Fisher for his five wicket haul, Twin Cam McKenzie-Smith with his cameo of twenty one with the bat, three wickets with the ball and two catches in the field and many others.

On the clubhouse balcony as the boys all enjoyed a well deserved cold beer, Strachany praised the efforts of all the boys in particular his choice of this weeks man of the match Bobby Fisher. He again reserved the encouragement award for me for my efforts in throwing myself around the field like a mad man. If I felt that Strachany was being generous the week before last with his effusive praise for my fielding, then I felt he had gone to even greater lengths this time as I personally could remember at least two guys who were more inspirational in the field – Jason Endean who had patrolled the covers like a miserly cheetah and Twin Cam who had produced a couple good stops and taken two catches – one of which was a very good slips catch while he was stationed at second slip.

In any case, I was delighted to be held up as an example for fielding commitment by my captain and my teammates yet again. I still have a long way to go, but the recognition from my peers makes the hard work seem worth while. It was a tough game...we had the worst of the conditions both weeks - a seamers paradise first week while we were batting and a dead track the following week with hot conditions when we had to defend a small total.

It was a win of pure guts and determination and I am so proud of all the boys and the parts they all played. The bowlers in particular were simply heroic.

I salute them all.

Next week is a new week and yet another two day game...what further adventures does this game have in stall? We all have to wait and find out!

See you all next week!

Vic Nicholas
Melbourne

MACCABI AJAX - GREEN PITCH & CLOUDY SKIES

Playing and missing a ball going down the leg side early in my innings.

“A car hit a Jewish man. The paramedic says, "Are you comfortable?" The man says, "I make a good living."”
~Anon

This weeks game against Maccabi Ajax was always going to be somewhat out of the ordinary in a number of ways for a myriad of different reasons.

Firstly, while we were playing at home yet again, we were not playing at our usual Como Park West ground which is adjacent to the pavilion, but Como East, which while abutting Como West, is a much longer walk around to the pavilion. This necessitated setting up chairs etc on the mound on the other side of the oval. A completely unfamiliar experience unto itself, but more drama was to follow - which I will get to later.

Secondly we were playing Maccabi Ajax - a cricket club where the overwhelming majority of the players are of Jewish origin and practice the Judaic faith. This is fascinating to me as one of my great interests is Eastern European history being of Eastern European origins myself.

Maccabi Ajax started way back in 1929 as the Hakoah Cricket Club. In 1945, the club renamed itself the Ajax Cricket Club and played its home games next to the cemetary in Princess Park.1 This was logical from a demographic perspective as Carlton had a large vibrant Jewish community from the turn of the century until the mid 1960's whereby thereafter the community drifted south of the Yarra to more prosperous suburbs.2

Ajax Carnival team 1947.

Ajax competed in the Northern Suburbs Cricket Association. In the late 1950's, the club moved to Fawkner Park (following the trend of the bulk of the Carlton/Brunswick Jewish communities move south). It was in 1962 that Ajax made the move to their present home ground at Albert Park to start competing in turf competitions.3

In 1973 a sister club was formed in Doncaster with the name of Northern Maccabi Cricket Club to cater for the nascent Jewish communities growing in the Doncaster/Balwyn areas. By the mid to late1980’s the club fielded up to four senior teams and an Under 16’s team in the Eastern Suburbs cricket competition. By the mid 1990’s however, Northern Maccabi was facing the same decision as their sister club Ajax had faced thirty years earlier in that their Jewish demographic base had started to drift over to the Southern suburbs. It was in 1996 that the decision was made to merge with Ajax and form one club – Maccabi Ajax.4

So with a unique history whereby Maccabi Ajax draw their players from a particular community, they certainly stand out from the crowd. Having said that with the massive influx of immigrants from the sub continent, new Indian and Sri Lankan ethnic dominated teams are being formed and fielded in competitions across Melbourne – so the Maccabi Ajax experience is now being replicated.

Being the culturally sensitive soul that I am, I was aware in the days leading up to the game of the dietary issues faced by most of the Maccabi Ajax lads when afternoon tea was to be served. I searched around for some kosher goodies to ensure that the lads did not starve to death on account of our forgetfulness. I picked up a Glicks Challah and some cookies and that did the trick. The rest of our lads brought lots of sandwiches, but with all of them containing ham – there was never going to be any takers. My Glicks Challah however, completely disappeared as the hungry young lads from Maccabi dug in.

When I arrived at our ground earlier, there were concerned looks on the faces of our boys and on the umpires. While the covers had protected the pitch of our usual home ground at Como West, the Como East oval pitch was green and wet due to some leak in the covers. A delayed start to the game was the best we could hope for and the possibility of the game being washed out was very real as the pitch at one end was very wet and the run up dangerous.

I was happy enough to play no matter what the conditions. I just want to play all the time! How bad could a seaming green deck be? The umpires and captains agreed to monitor the pitch and the surrounds every half hour but the situation was not overly hopeful as there was dark cloud cover with no wind and sun to dry the pitch out. Eventually, around 2pm play was scheduled to get under way, but only from one end! I had never before played in a game where all the bowling would take place from end and all the batting from the other with the batsmen changing over after every over, but it was either that, or no play at all. So, we decided some cricket – even in such curtailed circumstances – was better than no cricket at all.

I was praying that we would win the toss so we could give our bowlers some favourable conditions to bowl on for a change, but as fate would have it, with a green deck looming, Strachany lost the toss and the Maccabi captain had no hesitation in putting us in to bat. “Just wonderful” I thought to myself as I padded up.

Our fifth different opening combination in as many games took strike. The veteran Brian “Happy” Hannon took strike with Sam “Fairfax” Mitchell-Head as his partner. Happy has batted for over one hundred overs combined in his three matches so far this year. We were going to need yet another stoic performance from him today to keep our innings together and “Fairfax” plays with a straight bat, so we were hopeful he could stick around as well.

As Happy faced up to the opening over, I could immediately see that this pitch was not going to do us any favours at all. The bounce from short of a length was nothing short of astonishing compared to the low decks we usually play on. By the second over of the day, disaster had already struck as the usually rock-like Happy had spooned a catch straight to square leg as he flicked one off his toes. Oh dear! I was walking out to bat half way through the second over with only four runs on the board. As I passed Happy he muttered, “don’t worry, the ball is coming through straight”. I have learnt long ago never to trust the judgment of the outgoing batsman as they are usually so angry to be out, they will never offer any really helpful advice with “the bowlers are shit” being the stock standard line.

The young bowler who had dismissed Happy went by the name of Ben Jones and he is a left armer bowling over the wicket, so I opened up my stance to be facing him almost front on to make sure I could see where he was going to be pitching the ball rather than standing too side on. It is a technique I learned more than thirty years ago watching Geoff Boycott bat when facing left armers like Geoff Dymock and it has instinctively stayed with me ever since when facing left arm bowlers.

The first delivery I let go as it fizzed past my off stump at a good height. I then blocked out the next two before pushing a ball to mid wicket for an easy single to get off the mark. That was the over and we changed ends as I now had to face up to Yossie Herbst a fast bowler with a Hassidic beard and a Yarmulke. The guy looked innocuous enough, but he then ran in and speared a delivery at my chest which I defended down the wicket with much “oohhhs” and “ahhhs” from the Maccabi fieldsmen. His next delivery was a bouncer that was heading for my face when I swiveled and hooked it down past square leg. It looked four all the way as I middled it well, but alas, the outfield was dead slow and I had to make do with two runs.

Two photos as part of a sequence of yours truly playing a hook shot for two off Herbst.

This battle went on for a number of overs as Herbst repeatedly dropped the ball short at me trying to intimidate me. Little did he know that fast bowling is not my weakness, let alone short pitched fast bowling. Some of Herbsts bouncers seemed to slow up and sit up after pitching thus seeing me get through my attempted hook shot too early a few times.

On one occasion I bottom edged an attempted hook down onto my pad. On another occasion, one of his bouncers fizzed just over my head as I ducked just in time. This test of courage went on a bit more when Herbst dropped short again, this time it was pitched on or just outside off stump and I shaped up to play a shoulder high cut so the ball would fly over the slips cordon, but the ball altered course dramatically after pitching and started to cut in sharply from outside off to now passing by my left shoulder. It was already too late to change my stroke to a hook shot, so I was left with two options; either jump out of the way and let him think I was a coward, or let the ball hit me.

I chose the latter and the ball cannoned into my back just at the very bottom of my left shoulder blade with a dull thud. The ball ricocheted away to square leg and I walked back past my stumps thinking “why the hell did I just do that?” as the searing pain started to kick in. As I showed no emotion – though everybody would have known it would have hurt like hell – I felt I had won the battle for now. I gave it a slight rub, but I quickly took guard for the next ball.

While the bumpers largely stopped, the ball was still seaming wickedly off the deck and all the bowlers bowled a sound line to exploit the conditions. I seriously could have been out at least half a dozen times in the opening half an hour. One pull shot that I again got through too quickly because of the ball holding up off the pitch, struck the back of my bat and ballooned high up in the air. My heart sank as I assumed it would go to hand, but somehow it managed to just drop behind the slips cordon and I survived.

Another time I was even luckier, a vicious out swinger by Herbst took the edge of my bat and flew waist height to first slip who was standing about sixteen or seventeen yards back. The slip fieldsman caught me, dropped me, juggled it back up, caught me again, dropped me, juggled the ball back up and then finally put me down. That was a truly lucky escape and I must say that Yossi Herbst deserved a wicket, but as often happens he missed out.

My batting partner through this ordeal – Sam “Fairfax” Mitchell-Head - was also having a tough time of it. He played and missed outside off stump, but was able to get bat onto ball with a straight bat everytime something was pitched on the stumps. Fairfax nearly contributed to his own downfall when he mistimed a pull shot to a full toss and spooned a simple catch to square leg – only for the fieldsman to fluff it. We met mid pitch at the end of the over and I told him he was lulling them into a false sense of security. The poor bugger smiled back at this dry gallows humour as we both knew that beyond hanging in there, not much else could be done.

Young Aaron Fetter was brought on in place of the hostile Herbst. Now sizing up this fourteen year old lad I was about to face, I thought to myself “surely this kid will bowl some loose stuff that I can whack away to get the scoring moving along?” How wrong could I be? His first over was as perfect as you could ask for. Every ball was pitched in the corridor of uncertainty and he allowed the pitch and the seam to do the rest. The Maccabi brains trust had noticed that I was batting a long way out of my crease to the fast men to nullify LBW’s and exaggerated seam movement, so their pint sized teenage wicket keeper – hence forth known as the “Venus Flytrap” for his ability to take the ball cleanly – stood right up to the stumps to force me back into my crease.

By the second over from Fetter, things only got worse. I managed to play out a maiden with the ball spitting off the pitch and hitting me on the ribs, another rapping me on the pads to stifled appeals and then a ripper of a ball that I shaped to get forward to, only for it to hit a divot or something and jump up towards my face. As I raised my bat instinctively, the ball hit the shoulder of the bat and ballooned to much excitement to where a silly mid off might be standing. However, much to my good fortune, nobody was placed that close and Fetter was forced to make a run for it from his follow through in an effort to complete the catch and the ball dropped only a couple of feet in front of him as he belatedly arrived.

The rest of the over continued in a similar vein and I was staggered that I had survived at all. The pitch was covered in divots made by the ball and my bat was starting to get covered in mud marks as the ball was gripping on the pitch and carrying the mud with it on it’s ascent off the pitch. In past games I never concerned myself with gardening the pitch or patting down uneven bits, but today was very different. I was feverishly trying to pat down as many divots as possible as each time the ball hit one of those freshly made divots, it would have the effect of a miniature slips cradle – some deliveries would skid through low, others would freakishly lift up off just short of a length and others would viciously seam at right angles in the most unpredictable manner.

Survival on this pitch was reduced to a game of chance. There was no skill session that could prepare me for playing on a sticky green wicket and in no way could I trust the pitch to play full blooded drives. The uncertainty was too great. So I figured that dropping the sheet anchor and just hanging around for at least another hour in the hope that the pitch might improve as the day wore on would be the only sensible thing I could do. I passed on this sentiment to Fairfax at the end of the over and he nodded his head in agreement while at the same time congratulating me on surviving the over from hell dished up by Fetter.

This is the moment where the ball has flown off the shoulder of my bat to silly mid off during "the over from hell". Note how green the pitch is in this shot.

The double bowling change brought on a young fair haired bespectacled lad by the name of Josh Jones. While capable of bowling some fine deliveries, he was not as accurate as Fetter and thus offered a little bit of respite, but not much. As happens when there is a bowling change, the batsmen often break their concentration as they mentally congratulate themselves for seeing off the better bowlers – and so it was to prove. Fairfax received a very hittable delivery which he mistimed straight to a fieldsman. After his hard work in surviving some pretty hostile and unpredictable bowling, it was a wasteful way for Sam to go. His hour long vigil at the crease yielded only four runs as if to highlight the difficulties in scoring on such a pitch.

Enter Jason “Torvill” Endean.

The man.
The myth.
The legend.

Torvill is an allrounder of immense skill who played in our Fifths all last year and his sterling performances with both bat and ball had this year earned him the Vice Captaincy of the Fourths who play on Saturdays. He had offered to help us out in this match to overcome our player shortage brought on by the Spring Racing carnival. Torvill is no “fill in” though. He was fresh from making an inspired ninety two the day before for the Fourths and boasted a season batting average of a mammoth 229.00! Clearly, the man was in the form of his life. However, this pitch was that bad, that even the mighty Jason Endean was battling for survival. He was positive and upbeat between overs – as you would expect from a guy with a 229.00 season average – but clearly the pitch was playing tricks that dissuaded even natural stroke makers like Torvill from displaying the full range of their skills.

Playing a shot to mid wicket.

I drew strength from Torvill’s confidence and started to play some more attacking strokes. I smacked a lovely cover drive that should have been four once it beat the infield, but that slow outfield kicked in again and I had to be content with a well run two. I then smashed an off drive in the air that easily cleared the mid off fieldsman, but yet again held up in the outfield, so we could run only another two. Drinks were going to be taken soon, so my plan was to make it to drinks, regroup with Torvill and then put on a sizeable partnership. My only concern was that despite having batted for about eighteen overs, I was still not “in” in cricketing terms. Normally, it takes me about four overs to get my “eye in”. For the uninitiated in cricket speak, that means that your judgment of what the ball is doing and your reactions to the pitch conditions, light and ball movement is set and you start feeling comfortable and are able to play your natural game. Today, there was no way known that I could say that even after batting for more than an hour that I had a handle on the conditions and had my “eye in”. I simply could not trust the pitch to play to any script. It seemed to have a mind of its own and rendered batsmanship to a game of stout defense and hope.

Playing a watchful defensive stroke.

With drinks now in sight and playing on my mind, Josh Jones served up a low rank full toss that was so wide that if I left it alone, it probably would have been called such. The thing is, on a pitch like this, balls that don’t pitch on the minefield are a gift almost too good to resist as scoring opportunities are so rare. As the ball floated down, I was torn in three minds…should I smash it, should I just push at it in the hope of getting a couple of runs if I beat the infield or should I take the more circumspect option and leave it alone altogether as drinks was almost here and there was not too much point in taking any unnecessary risks?

A wristy shot to square leg.

In retrospect, I should have left this horrible wide full toss altogether. Or if I was going to go for it, then smash the absolute daylights out of it. Instead, I dabbed at it and the ball hit the toe of my bat, yet still somehow flew all the way to mid off where the only person tall enough on the whole field to take the catch leapt in the air and caught it after a slight juggle. With a lesser bat, it would have just petered out in front of me, but this was one occasion where my super connecting bat did me no favours as the ball flew with laser precision to the fieldsman. If any of the other short lads from Maccabi was under it, it surely would have cleared their heads, but no, I had to pick out the tallest bloke on the field.

Stupid, stupid, STUPID!

A cut off the front foot.

I had suffered through some excellent bowling for more than an hour on a really spiteful pitch only to surrender my wicket to the worst ball I faced all day. It was a harsh lesson in concentration. I had concentrated so hard to that point to resist my natural instinct in going for big shots, yet I had thrown all my hard work away in an instant of madness.

Yet again this season, I had found a new way to bring myself undone. My innings finished on seventeen which consisted of seven singles and five twos. Of those five twos, on any normal day, at least four of them would have been fours as the outfield was dead and the ball was slowing up a lot when played along the ground.

I trudged off disconsolately knowing that I had badly let my teammates down by wasting my innings like that. Julian “Penny” Lane passed me on his way in and I told him to give them stick as I usually do. The score was now a precarious 3 for 36 and there was still much hard work to be done to climb out of this hole. The situation deteriorated even further when Jason Endean was out for seven soon after and we were teetering at 4 for 41 as Strachany entered the fray just before drinks.

“Penny” and Strachany then dug in to put on a gutsy partnership worth thirty three with Strachany scoring twenty of them with some aggressive stroke play as Penny played the straight man. Strachany was out in the same manner as the rest of us by spooning a catch when he was up and running and the score was now 5 for 74. Nashad “False” Alam then came and went quickly for one and in an awful decision, Rakish "The Rake" Kothapalli was controversially given out caught behind for three when he clearly hit the ground with his bat and not the ball.


We had now slumped to a rather precarious 7 for 79 with Conrad De Souza – surely the best number nine going around – coming in to join Julian “Penny” Lane who had had survived the collapse and even survived a dropped catch to still be there to give us some hope. The pitch was now starting to play a little better as it started to dry out and the conditions were improving. Penny and Connair saw us through to stumps with a sensible partnership worth forty five. It was not without its moments it must be said – in the final over of the day with fieldsmen crowding the bat – Conrad was dropped twice. Once at first slip and then later when he hit one firmly at silly mid on who put down the sharper chance.

We had averted disaster as the boys walked off the ground fading light with Connair on ten not out and Penny on forty three not out with our total score sitting on a far more respectable 7 for 124. Next week the boys have the opportunity to bat on and put on some more runs to put some pressure on the Maccabi batsmen. Penny particularly deserves to go on and get his half century as he batted sensibly and held our innings together when disaster was lurking around every corner. With the very capable Connair partnering him, a big partnership is not out of the question.

I am very hopeful that we can secure our first win of the season – but much hard work still needs to be done before we can even dream of that.

More next week!
Vic Nicholas
Melbourne



B Hannan c ? b B Jones 2
S Mitchell-Head c ? b J Jones 4
VJ Nicholas c ? b J Jones 17
J Endean c ? b J Jones 7
J Lane not out 43
*D Strachan c ? b E Herbst 20
N Alam c ? b E Herbst 1
R Kothapalli c ? b E Lipshatz 3
CA De Souza not out 10
CW McKenzie-Smith dnb
R Fisher dnb
Extras (0nb,7w,11b,2lb) 20

Total 7/124

Overs 55

____________________________________________________

1 Ray Montag “Ajax Cricket Club” - http://www.maccabiajaxcc.com/clubinfo/clubhistory.htm
2 Cf Carlton A History, Edited by Peter Yule. Melbourne University Press 2004.
3 Ray Montag “Ajax Cricket Club” - http://www.maccabiajaxcc.com/clubinfo/clubhistory.htm
4 Richard Lustig “Northern Maccabi Cricket Club” - http://www.maccabiajaxcc.com/clubinfo/clubhistory.htm