Leg Byes, Knife Fights Pontius Pilate and the Tea Interval
Today marked my first cricket match in Oxford - I was keeping for the second XI (the Authentics or just 'Tics') and we won: Oxford 208 (48.3) def Hampstead 165 (47.2).
The game itself was full of loud lbw shouts with which English umpires seem very fickle, and although much excitement was had with the first game of the season, there were still a lot of winter bugs to work out. Especially my own - I was 'stumped' for a 4th ball duck. My back foot never left the crease, but I think the umpire was remaniscing about his days playing cricket in the 20's and when he came to, saw me off balance and the keeper acting like a chump. Naturally I wasn't the happiest chap around, but life goes on. When it came to the field I nabbed a catch off the opening bowler, keeping up to the stumps and letting the ball bobble between gloves, chin and gloves, causing a nice little wound in the chin. Other than the final wicket of the innings, a regulation run out, I had no other scalps and let through 4 byes down the legside off the quicks (although I was up to the stumps... that is right, I am justifying my inadequacies as a cricketer... no I don't think I am making excuses... that's it: no soup for you).
So there were some bugs to work out, but the season is long, the matches are plentiful and I hope to work my way into the first XI (although there are rumours of a Gun(n and More) [cricketing humour was always my strong suit] keeper straight from England under 17s).
This was the first game where I was able to wear my cricket vest - a present courtesy of Messrs J.J. Dore, W.R. Usher, C.L.J. Davey et al. Naturally - in the same fashion that one spills spaghetti sauce on a nice white shirt the first time it is used - I dribbled blood from my chin (accidentally) all over the vest and now it looks like I keep wicket in Mad Max's Thunderdome.
Now - onto the title pieces (before I get there, the disposable camera has some photos to be put up but film has not yet been developed):
I was listening to a World Cup match and heard Colin Croft [of West Indies fast bowling fame] comment that Ireland had bowled 12 extras and thus had gifted the opposition 2 extra overs. I checked the score card and 6 were leg byes - the Clayton's of Sundries, and certainly not gifting the opposition another over. I thought about emailing in... then thought that I needed to acheive something more than day than picking up on Crofty's mentalism.
Knife Fights - I look like I have experienced one, and not just due to the clip on the chin today, oh no - the 15 stitch Y shaped scar between my eyes yields a much more decisive image. How? Keeping up to the stumps, normally fine, but when the batsmen can't manage to middle a short ball and instead pull it for a top edge straight into your face, things go awry. I have photos, but have also been told that I won't go away any time soon, so certainly some will make their way here.
Pontius Pilate: on walking to cricket today I was listening to the Crucifixus from the Mass in B Minor by the Big Man and couldn't help but think that the poor fellow gets a tough rap - the only man (who was all man that is) who gets a mention in the creed, and not in a positive way. Then I thought about the Family Guy Episode about the Church of the Fonz, and starting saying 'Eeehhhhh' to myself, attracting odd glances from passers by.
Ah yes, the Tea Interval - no one does cricket like the English. Today we played proper test match stylings (breaks wise) with lunch and tea for 40 and 20 minutes respectively. And for both of them well.... To set the tone: playing for the ANU, I experienced a lunch break most weeks by grabbing Steve Arthy of Muller and driving down to the local bakery to return with pies and soft drinks for those who placed orders - certainly good times. But here... the university employs caterers each week and their sole task is to make sure there is enough food (and good quality food) for the tea and lunch intervals. So we come off the feed and enter the pavillion where I find two long trestle tables with places set, water, juice and of course tea all available and then the buffet: cold meats, pasta salads, chicken curries, standard garden (variety) salads, roast potatoes, quiches, two whole barbecued chickens... and that was just for lunch. Tea included: fruitcake, caramel slice, marshmellow biscuits, chips = crisps, apricot cheesecake and flapjacks. Certainly beats a pie which has been sitting under a warm lamp for the past hour.
This was a warm up game for the season and doesn't count, which is fine by me. Tomorrow is the first match of the college season, but a friendly so it will be a chance to try out a few new odds and ends.
Oh yes, and by request I will put up a post detailing what exactly it is I do - at the moment Mrs O'Grady still refers to it as 'something with large numbers', [when typing that I wrote 'numbeers' which go down rather well right about now] so the public must be told.
The game itself was full of loud lbw shouts with which English umpires seem very fickle, and although much excitement was had with the first game of the season, there were still a lot of winter bugs to work out. Especially my own - I was 'stumped' for a 4th ball duck. My back foot never left the crease, but I think the umpire was remaniscing about his days playing cricket in the 20's and when he came to, saw me off balance and the keeper acting like a chump. Naturally I wasn't the happiest chap around, but life goes on. When it came to the field I nabbed a catch off the opening bowler, keeping up to the stumps and letting the ball bobble between gloves, chin and gloves, causing a nice little wound in the chin. Other than the final wicket of the innings, a regulation run out, I had no other scalps and let through 4 byes down the legside off the quicks (although I was up to the stumps... that is right, I am justifying my inadequacies as a cricketer... no I don't think I am making excuses... that's it: no soup for you).
So there were some bugs to work out, but the season is long, the matches are plentiful and I hope to work my way into the first XI (although there are rumours of a Gun(n and More) [cricketing humour was always my strong suit] keeper straight from England under 17s).
This was the first game where I was able to wear my cricket vest - a present courtesy of Messrs J.J. Dore, W.R. Usher, C.L.J. Davey et al. Naturally - in the same fashion that one spills spaghetti sauce on a nice white shirt the first time it is used - I dribbled blood from my chin (accidentally) all over the vest and now it looks like I keep wicket in Mad Max's Thunderdome.
Now - onto the title pieces (before I get there, the disposable camera has some photos to be put up but film has not yet been developed):
I was listening to a World Cup match and heard Colin Croft [of West Indies fast bowling fame] comment that Ireland had bowled 12 extras and thus had gifted the opposition 2 extra overs. I checked the score card and 6 were leg byes - the Clayton's of Sundries, and certainly not gifting the opposition another over. I thought about emailing in... then thought that I needed to acheive something more than day than picking up on Crofty's mentalism.
Knife Fights - I look like I have experienced one, and not just due to the clip on the chin today, oh no - the 15 stitch Y shaped scar between my eyes yields a much more decisive image. How? Keeping up to the stumps, normally fine, but when the batsmen can't manage to middle a short ball and instead pull it for a top edge straight into your face, things go awry. I have photos, but have also been told that I won't go away any time soon, so certainly some will make their way here.
Pontius Pilate: on walking to cricket today I was listening to the Crucifixus from the Mass in B Minor by the Big Man and couldn't help but think that the poor fellow gets a tough rap - the only man (who was all man that is) who gets a mention in the creed, and not in a positive way. Then I thought about the Family Guy Episode about the Church of the Fonz, and starting saying 'Eeehhhhh' to myself, attracting odd glances from passers by.
Ah yes, the Tea Interval - no one does cricket like the English. Today we played proper test match stylings (breaks wise) with lunch and tea for 40 and 20 minutes respectively. And for both of them well.... To set the tone: playing for the ANU, I experienced a lunch break most weeks by grabbing Steve Arthy of Muller and driving down to the local bakery to return with pies and soft drinks for those who placed orders - certainly good times. But here... the university employs caterers each week and their sole task is to make sure there is enough food (and good quality food) for the tea and lunch intervals. So we come off the feed and enter the pavillion where I find two long trestle tables with places set, water, juice and of course tea all available and then the buffet: cold meats, pasta salads, chicken curries, standard garden (variety) salads, roast potatoes, quiches, two whole barbecued chickens... and that was just for lunch. Tea included: fruitcake, caramel slice, marshmellow biscuits, chips = crisps, apricot cheesecake and flapjacks. Certainly beats a pie which has been sitting under a warm lamp for the past hour.
This was a warm up game for the season and doesn't count, which is fine by me. Tomorrow is the first match of the college season, but a friendly so it will be a chance to try out a few new odds and ends.
Oh yes, and by request I will put up a post detailing what exactly it is I do - at the moment Mrs O'Grady still refers to it as 'something with large numbers', [when typing that I wrote 'numbeers' which go down rather well right about now] so the public must be told.
posted by Tim Trudgian | 6:53 pm
3 Comments:
Hi Tim,
I'm sitting here at the computer, reading your blog, chuckling quite loudly - more like a belly laugh really - to myself. Luckily, I'm the only one at home, except for the dogs, who have both woken up and come running in to see what all the action is about (wait for it - there is a point to this comment). So don't ever worry about walking down the street, expressing your thoughts out loud, 'attracting odd glances from passers by' - I'm normal - so you must be also !!@#$%!! (just thought I'd try out a few of those characters to see if my computer also thought it was a website - but apparently not)
Thank you very much for the post card from the holy grail of blarney itself - it is now no. 362 in my postcard collection. (I have never been to Blarney Castle myself - although you would be forgiven for thinking that I had - imagine my 'blarney talent' if I were to ever kiss the stone!)
Although I'm very pleased to hear of your cricketing conquests, I am now a little anxious about inviting you to tea (tea being the whole point of cricket as far as I'm concerned and you are quite right - none do it better than the English). It seems I now have a level of expectation to live up to in the tea department - fruitcake, caramel slice, marshmallow biscuits - mallow that is, although I'm sure the flavour was mellow - apricot cheesecake, chips or crisps and flapjacks!!!
It was also good to experience the wonders of the modern world through 'scipe' (not sure if that's how it's spelt - not even sure what it means - if anything) and talk to you for your birthday. I am eagerly awaiting your explanation of what it is you actually do with your 'large numbers' - I suppose it's one of those things really that someone has to do - 'large numbers' exist so it stands to reason that there must be someone whose job it is to 'look after them' so to speak otherwise, if no-one were to pay any attention to them they may easily disappear - much in the same way that disused words just 'disappear' from the dictionary and then into oblivion, only to be found in ancient archives of those mad enough to collect dictionaries. So, I'm right behind you there Tim, next time I have a drink, I will drink to your 'large numbers' - may they live forever!
I think it's about time for me to go now - I have to write a letter to the editor of the Alderley Advertiser!!
Keep on blogging,
Mrs Ogre
Wow, I had no idea that cricket was a contact sport!
I also am looking forward to reading about what it is that you do when you're not trying to get yourself killed on the cricket pitch.
For my part, I look to be returning to the land of plenty by about mid September.
Cheerio.
Owie.
Not on the vest!!!
Will there ever come a time when a man intentionally dribbles blood on his own vest?
Perhaps to attract sharks.
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