It's 10.30am on Sunday, 1st July. I'm standing in the middle of the Canfield square with Bretty and Stuart Hepburn, looking at the pitch, then the sky towards the west, then back to the pitch. After Saturday (and most of June come to that) the pitch is wet. The forecast for late afternoon is favourable however and, after after all, today is a special day; the official opening of the Halls Pavilion. Hell and high water won't stop it (well, the high water is a possibility if we get more rain). But we have do do something and we have to make a decision. GAME ON!
It's 12.30pm and half of the Chairman's XI are in the bar. Bretty is defying the smoking ban defending himself with the time-honoured and insightful "bollocks" counter-argument. He'd make quite an advocate ("Your honour, I put it to you that the outrageous charges against my client are bollocks. The defence rests".) I sense safety in numbers and join him. Barry Claydon's President's XI turn up to warm welcomes and hand-shakes. It has been decided to get as much beer down Barry's neck as possible to present the Chairman's XI with a fighting chance. It starts to rain.... then stops. Phew.
It's 1.15pm and we take the field. Our Chairman has stuck them in. A good decision - it's a sticky wicket that will start to dry out as the game progresses. They make 160 -9 which is not too far off par given the pitch and wet outfield. Befitting the opening of the Halls Pavilion, Jamie and Paul Halls take 4 wickets apiece with a mix of quick seam bowling and dazzling spin. Its going to be a Halls day all round with Mary watching from the pavilion and the late Brian Halls watching from above. Stuart gets the final wicket - well done Mr Chairman. We have all fielded very well.
It's 3.45pm and tea is in full flow. It's a splendid affair of scones, cakes, baps and biscuits. Mind you, there is something terribly 'maternal' about women taking their turn in the pavilion kitchen. When its their tea turn day its very much their domain. Other women, Alison Hepburn a notable inclusion, beware!
It's 4.15pm and Bretty is facing the first ball of our innings. It's a long-ish hop dispatched in the air to deep extra over. Ed my 13 year old son is fielding at deep extra cover. It's coming sharp-ish. The balls sticks in his hands like Velcro. For 5 seconds no-one says or does anything. Then pandemonium as the fielding side rush to high-5 him, realising that their lovable nemesis has got a golden duck, caught by A Small Boy. Ed has been told by Angus and Bretty to smile more when on the field of play. Well he can't smile wide enough now. Bretty comes back and does the only man-ly thing possible - start the bar-b-que. Ed spends the rest of the match beaming. I am a proud dad.
The Chair's XI battle it out keeping up with the run rate, largely due to Jonny Slowman's long awaited return to the Canfield fold. But we lose wickets and Trev has to go off with a chest pain (I spoke to him this morning and all seems well - just thought you'd like to know). I give Jamie out LBW 2nd ball. It's plum mate, but did he get the merest of bats on it first? His expression clearly thinks so. He tells me in afterwards not to worry and that he won't hate me for it. I am relieved. Then our Chairman is given out by Canfield old boy Simon Noakes attempting a single when MILES IN. Dearie me. My turn to go in. Now, to quote Marlon Brando from the Godfather Part 2 "I have a sentimental weakness for my children and I spoil them; they speak when they should listen". With this in mind Ed is immediately bought back into the attack having told Barry and Bondy that he's on double pocket money if he gets me out. I owe Ed 5 weeks worth so there's serious money at stake. I receive what Nas Hussain might call "a lot of chirping"
"Come on Ed, get your bunny out"
"Let's have him"
"You dad doesn't bat as straight as you"
And so on.
He bowls spin. He NEVER bowls spin! I edge it to 1st slip who holds it; then fumbles it; then holds it in one hand; then (finally) drops it. Ed is beside himself.
The Chairman's XI fall a little shy of the required runs - even with 12 players - but it matters not. It's been a great match and the sun has been out for hours, just as our Chairman predicted.
It's 6.30pm and the opening ceremony is taking place. Alan Lillee, a playing compatriot of G. Gooch at Essex has come along to be master of ceremonies. He's full of praise for Canfield, our ground, the pitch, and new pavilion. I'm feeling especially proud to be involved with Canfield CC right now. Pommy says a few words of thanks and presents Roger Simons with a commissioned painting of the new Halls Pavilion as a gesture of the club's very great thanks and also two commemorative plaques which will be mounted inside, to go with the Essex CCC plaque Alan Lillee has presented to Pommy. The ribbon is cut (twice) and we're officially open.
It's 7.10pm and everyone who has turned up - players old and new, family, friends, people from the village and guests are enjoying the free bar-b-que (thanks again to Roger for the free grub) and beers. Everywhere kids are mucking about with rugby balls, playing in the nets, chasing dogs and having a high old time. Small groups are chatting about what a great day it has been and how Brian Halls would have approved. It's a glorious evening.
It's 7pm on Friday 18th May 2005. Jonathan Clarke has just asked me if I fancy playing for Great Canfield. "Oh, I don't think so"I say. "Not really my thing". Just goes to show how wrong you can be.
Fear not, Captain's blog will return next week with it's usual blend of sarcasm, cynical observation, winding-up of the opposition and self-criticism.
But not today.
Preecherman
No comments:
Post a Comment