Michael Mainelli and I had formed a tradition – I think 2006 was the third instance of it – that I would take Michael as my guest to a day of county cricket early season, before the crowds get larger and (most importantly) before the days get hotter.
Some like it hot, but Michael REALLY doesn’t like it hot.
So, Day 3, Friday, first county championship match of the season seemed just the ticket. In many ways it was. Middlesex v Kent. Good fixture. April.
The match was well advanced by the start of Day 3 but not too well advanced.
As tradition would have it…this sort of thing IS a tradition by the third time, possibly even by the second time…we watched the first session from the pavilion. Then, at lunch, as tradition would also have it, we perambulated on the outfield (smaller crowd than Middlesex’s glorious September 2016 match depicted above), then retired to Harry Morgan to grab some takeaway New York deli-style food – probably a chopped liver sandwich to share plus a salt beef sandwich each plus some pickled cucumbers.
We took our feast back to Lord’s in time to munch, drink some fine red wine and watch the second session of cricket from the Compton Stand.
The Compton Stand offered a rather binary choice; absolutely exposed to the elements in the upper tier, or caged in away from the elements in the lower tier. As I write in September 2019, that stand is being demolished, together with its smaller twin, the Edrich, to be replaced by more modern facilities.
Anyway, in April we opted for the upper and the sunshine while we ate our hot food, rather than the wind-tunnel cooling effect of the shady, cagey lower tier.
We finished our grub around about the time that Nick Compton’s fine innings for Middlesex entered the nervous nineties. I explained to Michael that the lad had been on Middlesex’s books for some years but this was, hopefully, to be his breakthrough season. He had just scored a big hundred in a University warm-up match but this might be his first County Championship hundred.
Shouldn’t we move now to a shady spot? Perhaps the pavilion again or the Warner?
I asked Michael, noticing a few beads of sweat and a slight reddening of the face. It was proper sunshine that day and by mid afternoon it was really quite warm.
Let’s wait and see Compton get his hundred. We should see Compton get his first hundred from the Compton Stand,
Michael replied; a cricket aficionado in the making.
We could go down to the lower tier and get some shade…that’s still the Compton Stand…
I suggested.
No, said Michael, we shouldn’t move. He’s in the nineties.
Now anyone who knows Michael surely knows that he is one of the least superstitious people you are ever likely to meet. He’s logical. He’s rational.
But cricket seems to get all of us…yes, even Michael, with quirky superstitions. Perhaps all sport does this to some extent, but cricket has superstition in spades.
And of course Michael had enough exposure to cricket through our charity matches and stuff to really understand that a century is a big achievement and a maiden century a really big thing…
…Nick Compton also knew the importance of making a ton, of course…
…so Nick’s nervous 90s went on for rather a long time…it seemed like a very, very long time…
…while Michael got hotter and hotter; ruddier and ruddier. I asked him a couple more times if he wanted to move, but Michael was glued to the cricket and absolutely intent on not jinxing Nick Compton’s century quest.
Within moments of Nick achieving his hundred, Michael was up and we were away in the direction of the shade. I think we went back to the pavilion for the rest of that very pleasant spring day.
When reviewing the 2005 Ashes series, the great commentator, Richie Benaud, would relate tales from letters he had received from senior people, captains of industry even, describing hiding behind the sofa unable to watch the denouement of some of the tighter matches, such was the level of emotion invested in these incredible multiple-day sporting events that we call test matches in cricket.
The Edgbaston test, which several of us fortunate folk known as the Heavy Rollers experienced live in part, was such a match. While our live experience, which started so brilliantly for us the night before…
…was over as a live experience for us at stumps on Day Two, of course it continued for us as a television and radio experience for the next couple of days.
Before that, someone (often it was Nigel), will have helped me get at least part of the way, if not all the way, to Birmingham New Street for my train and I probably got to Janie’s place around 9:30/10:00 at night for a shower and then some deep sleep.
No doubt Janie and I played tennis in the morning, ahead of hunkering down with the radio and/or television for most of the Saturday.
It was a seesaw of a cricketing day if ever there was one. England looked to have surrendered their second innings for too little, then Australia similarly found it difficult to avoid frequent dismissals.
But Janie and I could not stay at home all day and watch cricket – we had tickets for a dinner and show at The Kings Head, Islington: Who’s The Daddy, a satirical farce. Not the sort of show that Janie would normally want to see, except that this show was largely about a larger than life journalist/editor named Boris Johnson and his affair with fellow Spectator journalist Petronella Wyatt. Without reaching to breach any professional confidences here, Janie had professional reasons (as well as idle curiosity) to see this show.
Janie and I set off for Islington quite early, with England in a good but not yet totally secure position. Michael Clarke & Shane Warne were at the crease together albeit seven down but accumulating runs. I think the only reason that the match was still going on at that hour was because England had taken the extra half hour to try and finish the match, but that idea didn’t seem to be working. I’m pretty sure Janie did the driving, thank goodness. We were listening intently. We parked up near the theatre and sat listening to the last couple of overs. Then Steve Harmison bowled THAT ball to remove Clarke on the stroke of stumps.
That Steve Harmison ball at the end of Day Three is at c22’30”.
Janie and I were in celebratory mode as we entered The Kings Head. Australia still more than 100 behind, just two wickets left…what could possibly go wrong?
No matter, we were in a great mood. England were on the verge of a vital win…
…or were they?
I’m pretty sure we played tennis again, early, on the Sunday morning. Then we hunkered down in the near-expectation that England would quickly take a couple of wickets and we could relax for the rest of the day.
I must say that I personally never got to the “hiding behind the sofa” stage, but there was a lot of oohing and aahing, that’s for sure. I started off watching in the living room, then migrated to the bedroom so I could put my feet up and await what I thought was the inevitable win…then I wasn’t so sure…then I starting to think it was an inevitable “yet again” loss on the way.
Janie kept insisting that it would all come good in the end, but once the lead had been reduced to 20-30 runs, she couldn’t sit still nor could she bear to watch.
By the time the England victory came, I was, by then, absolutely convinced that England were about to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.
But in the end we celebrated, Janie reminding me that she had been insisting that it would come good for England all along. Yeh, right.
I had , in a moment of extreme lucidity disguised as madness, procured, the previous autumn, six tickets for Day Five of The Oval test, just in case England were able to take the 2005 Ashes series to the wire. I had kept very quiet about this purchase, just in case the social workers of The Children Society, on learning of this purchase, conspired with a couple of doctors and had me put away for gross insanity.
A coupe of hours after the Edgbaston victory, it felt like the right moment to fess up to this purchase. I called Chas, who was in one of those “trembling voiced Chas” states, but he did make some informed comments on the outcome of the match and immediately said yes to the idea of joining me and Daisy at Day Five of the Oval test, should the series come to that.
I told Chas that I intended to call Nigel next.
Chas told me that it might be best to leave it another couple of hours or more. “I called him a few minutes ago and he still could barely speak”, explained Chas.
Nigel doesn’t lose his voice lightly.
I did speak with Nigel later that day, who was still somewhat of a quiver. It is a shame he wasn’t able to join us at the Oval, but still that Oval story will make for another excellent Ogblog piece, not least because it will be awash with Charles Bartlett’s colourful pictures.
We all stayed at Tye Towers. Janie recalls that I sent her a lengthy SMS message (now lost in the mists of time and/or recoverable only by the security services) waxing lyrical about the wonderful time we were having.
Charles got up early the next morning and took a stroll around “the estate” with his camera, taking all the following pictures before 7:00 am.
We thought we had allowed bags of time to get to Edgbaston & into the ground for the first ball. We were used to going to Edgbaston for the first day of the test match. But we hadn’t accounted for the massive early queues (previously unprecedented at Edgbaston – at least in then recent times) and the additional security required, as there had been a major terrorist incident on London transport only a few weeks earlier. Indeed, Nigel’s son, Adam – himself an occasional Heavy Roller and guest star in our charity cricket matches – had been on one of the bombed trains; mercifully Adam far enough away from the explosion not to be injured.
Returning to the queue on the morning of 4 August 2005, our mood regarding the match to come was one of great hope but diminished expectation, on the back of England having played a poor game at Lord’s leaving England 1-0 down in the five match series. I had spent a couple of days at that Lord’s test…
…a link to my Ogblog postings on that match will appear here in the fullness of time…once those postings are writ…
…we all knew that England would need to up its game considerably to catch up and overtake Australia in the series. This Edgbaston test was crucual.
Then, suddenly, one of our number (I think it was Charles but it might have been Harish) took a call from Kyle Bullock, who was working at The Children’s Society HQ at that time.
Kyle had played in the annual Z/Yen v Children’s Society cricket match in Regents Park a few weeks earlier. Kyle had cruelly dismissed me in that match with an off-spinning delivery that bounced and spun even more than I had anticipated, clipping my glove and thus yielding a catch. To add to the cruelty of that dismissal, the spitting cobra of a spinning ball had clipped a joint on one of my fingers which, despite the so-called protection of a glove and the relative slowness of the ball, had led to trigger finger pain that was sustained for several months. Kyle simply thought this was funny whenever I mentioned it to him.
On the positive side, Kyle had played an important part in one of the most exciting cricket matches I have ever played, click here or below) just a few days before we set off for Bedfordshire and Edgbaston.
At the time, we thought of Kyle as “an Aussie”. In fact, he is, like many people, someone whose nationality and sporting allegiance is somewhat divided between Australia and England. In fact, Kyle’s allegiance for those Ashes leant towards England, we subsequently discovered.
The reason I labour all of this seemingly superfluous material, is the fact that Kyle informed us, by telephone, that Glenn McGrath, Australia’s most reliable bowler at that time, had injured himself in warm-ups and was out of the match, possibly out of the series.
At first we all thought this was a wind up. I had already suffered that summer at the hands of Kyle’s spin and was not going to buy this unlikely-sounding story easily.
But within moments a whisper started to go through the queue and the ground, as plenty of people around us were listening to radios and/or taking calls from friends. The truth of this perhaps-series-defining story was confirmed.
We soon also learned that Australia had nevertheless elected to bowl having won the toss.
Our hope (and that of England fans everywhere) was well and truly restored.
Intriguingly, Nigel’s recollection of the McGrath incident is quite different from mine, as he, Jeff Tye and The Steeds came in separate cars from me, Chas, Nick and Harish. They were entering the ground at a different (probably slightly earlier) time. Nigel writes:
It was the amiable Brummie steward [Paul Guppy] who informed me/us of the ‘unfortunate’ McGrath accident…[Paul] appeared joyful in the sense of “ I know summink amazing that you don’t”. He sensed our doubts as he had, until then, had a tendency to enjoy the odd wind up, to put it kindly. “I should know, I helped put him into the back of a car”. His insights may have been shared elsewhere, but we self importantly formed the impression he had made a beeline for us! Word started to spread as a result…hopes began to escalate.
Here is a link to a match highlights video that, like this article, covers the first two days of the match. You’ll need to survive some adverts before you see just over 30 minutes of footage.
The video shows the queue of people entering the ground through the Pershore Road entrance, which is the entrance we use, but the queue was much longer than that shown when we arrived in it.
The video highlights for the first two days of this great match also include an infeasibly large number of shots showing us Heavy Rollers in the crowd – especially shots from the first session of the match. I suppose we stood out for the cameras that year, being lined up in our red Heavy Rollers shirts.
Here’s an example screen grab from the above video. Don’t ask how much fiddling around it has taken to grab that. It is c4’36” into the film.
Lunch was a typically wonderful picnic (see Heavy Rollers reports passim), I think a joint effort provided by the Steeds supplemented by the Tyes – not least Liz Tye’s iconic scotch eggs, which Nigel recalls her contributing on several occasions…surely this being one of them… and Samina’s samosas – Samina being a colleague of Nigel and especially Jeff’s from the Bedford office of The Childrens’ Society. Samina contributed samosas for our trip on several occasions.
Chas, Nigel & Jeff were still star struck from their previous exploits blagging their way into the old Edgbaston pavilion – see Heavy Rollers write ups passim, in particular the 2003 one linked here and below…
In 2005 they did it again, with Chas taking several photos including the following:
The following ones from within the pavilion on the stroke of tea Day One…don’t ask!
And one just after tea, proving that Chas, at least, hung around for the whole of the tea interval.
The evening meal was at an Indian Restaurant (or should I call it a Balti House in Birmingham?) on the recommendation of the Steeds (“Peels”) and a jolly good recommendation it was too, as evidenced by the following sole photo of the evening.
Another mystery is why Chas took one…but only one…picture on Day Two of the match.
I can only imagine that Chas felt that he had failed to catch an image of his favourite player on Day One, so returned with his camera determined to put matters right on Day Two…which he certainly did with the above image.
We had a great time on Day Two, much as we had on Day One. David Steed once again did the honours with a splendid picnic and all seemed well with the world as we left the ground at the end of that day.
Shane Warne’s dismissal of Andrew Strauss towards the end of Day Two kept us all thinking that, despite England’s healthy-looking lead, the game was far from over…
The wonderful Daily Motion highlights reel (repeated below) shows an insightful view of those two days of unforgettable cricket. Top viewing for Heavy Rollers and non-Rollers alike. For The Heavy Rollers, it was an unforgettable, life-affirming gathering over three days as well as an unforgettable match.
Jeff said that he’d cut a strip for our evening game…he REALLY cut a strip
(All photos kindly supplied by Charley “The Gent Malloy” Bartlett)
So much has been written about the astonishing Ashes series of 2005, not least the extraordinary match at Edgbaston. We Heavy Rollers were fortunate enough to witness the first two days of that classic match.
Yet one aspect of our wonderful experience of that match was truly unique to us Heavy Rollers: the evening and night before the test at “Tye Towers”, Big Papa Zambezi Jeff’s Bedfordshire residence, where we played cricket, enjoyed a magnificent barbeque and bonded like a band of brothers.
Make no mistake – Jeff’s wonderful offer to provide us all with accommodation that night and to turn his garden into a temporary cricket ground and barbeque venue was not our only option. Charley “The Gent Malloy” Bartlett had blagged us into the Edgbaston Cricket Centre for an hour in the nets that evening. Who knows how Chas used to pull off such coups? But we ended up rejecting Edgbaston’s kind offer in favour of Jeff’s place.
A King Cricket piece describing the choice of venue for our pre test yard cricket was published in April 2024 – click here. Just in case anything ever goes awry at King Cricket, here is a scrape of that piece.
I’m pretty sure that I journeyed to Jeff’s place reasonably early in the afternoon with Charley and Nick. For several years, Charles would kindly arrange to meet me at a suitably convenient Central Line station (was it Redbridge or Gants Hill or Newbury Park?) and then we’d travel up together. I’d get a train home. There would sometimes be lively debate as to the music we would listen to on these journeys. I might be mistaken, but I have a feeling that Neil Young had some prominence as the in car entertainment that year.
Anyway, for sure we three were all at Tye Towers quite early, as evidenced by the photographs Chas took mid to late afternoon.
I have no idea what the following picture of Nigel is about. Presumably he was owed ticket money by some and was much relieved to have received it.
Once the yard cricket got underway, Chas put away his camera until the after match festivities, so we have no images of the pitch once it was completed, nor of the action.
Memory will have to serve for the match itself and I might well need the help of others.
I believe I can compile a complete list of the people who played:
David “David Peel” Steed;
Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett;
Harish “Harsha Goble” Gohil;
Me;
Nick “The Boy Malloy” Bartlett;
Dan “Dan Peel” Steed;
Nigel “Father Barry” Hinks;
“Big Papa Zambezi” Jeff Tye;
Geoff “Tufty Geoff” Young (the only participant who did not also attend the match with us).
In the matter of playing conditions, I recall that we had some additional fielders to try and keep the batsmen honest:
The roller depicted in the above photograph, fielding at slip to the right-handed batsman;
In front of the flag pole, a mermaid statue (or something of that ilk) – those two objects combined to field at leg slip to the right-handed batsman.
Hitting one of those artefacts on the full was deemed to be out caught.
I contrived to get caught by the statue on one occasion. Lots of people had near misses with the roller and possibly even the odd dismissal on the off side, but I think I was alone in managing to strangle one to the mermaid.
Harish had an especially good evening at Tye Towers, as did Tufty Geoff, who was one of those irritatingly excellent yet self-effacing cricketers who tended to hide himself in the lower reaches of the Tufty Stackpole team yet consistently perform well for them when needed. Here and below is a link to a report on a subsequent Tufty match :
Anyway, Tufty Geoff won the trophy that year, for both bating and bowling, while Harish picked up a “man of the match” or “play of the day” award, I think for his bowling. Indeed I think Harish pulled off several fine dismissals including my strangle down the leg side snaffled up by a statuesque fielder.
Nigel reflects on the match and trophies as follows:
Can’t recall who was snaffled by the inert metal object but someone certainly was.
Jeff was equally displeased when I picked out the roof of his prized cabin-bar for two “maximums” using my prized Hansie Cronje Rawalpindi bat. I expected glory not abuse! (Sadly I never owned a bat during my playing days and can only wonder what my numbers might have been if such equipment had come my way earlier? The bat was given to Hansie who didn’t like it so gave it to his brother who became the pro at Todmorden where it fell into the hands of my brother then me). Chas had earlier compared my running style between wickets to that of a “trotting pony”. Maybe that provoked some big hitting?
I supplied the trophies. It was a last minute decision. One each for batting and bowling. Having called in to a modest local establishment it was a question of enquiring “what have you got that I can take now?” Consequently the quality of the awards left much to be desired despite the price. So, it was no surprise that one of them required a small repair before it left for Bedford, thus provoking the comment, “you were done” from Liz Tye while we were preparing for the tournament.
I recall your comment after calculating the final scores, if not verbatim. “Perhaps there should be some recognition for the runner up?” Because the same player came a close second in both categories. (Clue- it wasn’t Harish). So near but……….
Looking again at the awards ceremony photos, I seem to be tucking in to a glass of full-bodied red wine there, which, given the very little I can remember about the rest of the evening (other than that delightful, oblivious, impressionistic sense that we were having a wonderful time) must have been pretty good.
Dan Steed recalls the event as follows:
My favourite Heavy Roller memory! What a few days, starting with such a wonderful afternoon/evening!
Well worth the trip from the edge of Birmingham to drive back to Birmingham the next day for the first two days of the “Greatest Test”!
Oh and the Banoffee pie….wow 😋, and watching a combine harvester at work at some late hour!
At this juncture we should recognise the enormous contribution that Liz Tye made to that wonderful evening, in the background, producing much of the food – not least Dan’s beloved banofee pie, and generally being a “hostess with the mostess” in every way.
The next few photos show the barbeque and festivities in full sway. I think we have used enough words to conjure a sense of the mood.
The next morning, it seems that Chas got up early and went for a stroll around the estate taking some more photos. I’ll use those in the next piece, but here and below is a link to all of the photos Chas took at Tye Towers, both the evening of 3rd August and the morning of 4th August:
How did it come to pass that I could find no written record of this match in my computer archive files, nor are there any pictures from that match in Charley “The Gent” Malloy’s photo archive?
It wasn’t even listed on the canonical list of articles and snippets about Children’s Society matches, which I produced for Charley towards the end of that decade.
Yet, in my memory, that 2005 match was one of the greatest of all, with the most exciting climax.
Roll the clock forward 13-14 years to late 2018. James Sharp, editor of the Googlies and Chinamen Journal, who often syndicates my King Cricket and Ogblog articles, approached me to see if he could have first use of a yet unpublished piece. I offered, among other ideas, to write up of this “lost match”. James jumped at the idea of this one.
So I put my thinking cap on, tried to recall as much as I could about a charity game from all those years ago and made a few notes. The strange thing was, the story of the match itself came out of my mind with quite a strong narrative line – as it would if I were recalling an article I had written, rather than a collection of vague, distant memories.
I also dug out written material and photos from the equivalent fixtures from 2004 and 2006.
There’s Charley The Gent Malloy in the centre of the front row. There’s me with the bandanna (but no beard back then) in the back row. Harsha Goble to my left. Mat The Tazzy to Charley’s left. I shall introduce some other characters as the 2005 match story unfolds.
I realise that there is a proper write up of the 2004 match to be written in the fullness of time – a lot of material for that match, currently unwritten, has returned to my head as a result of researching 2005. It was interesting to say the least. But I digress.
I’m pretty sure the loyal 2004 supporters were all there in 2005 as well. Daisy for sure was there but is studiously unwilling or unable to remember anything much about 2005, other than the fact that we gave a lift to Mat The Tazzy and his new girlfriend that year. Neither of us could remember the girl’s name, nor what she looked like – this 2005 cricket match would have been our one and only sighting of her. I wonder if Mat even remembers.
Anyway, in my efforts to research this piece, I decided to resort to an e-mail trawl. That would surely find a July 2005 e-mail that, at the very least. would include clues as to who played for The Children’s Society. It did.
But, far more importantly, my eyes just happened to glance at a subsequent e-mail to Charles, in January 2006, entitled:
Re: That Tufty Match Report
It transpires that I did, sort-of write up a match report at the time – indeed the very next day – on the Ultra Cricket discussion forum.
Back then, I used to participate in an on-line cricket game entitled Ultra Cricket, which also had an on-line discussion forum for the friendly and intelligent community of cricket lovers who congregated around that game. The site was run by Tim Astley, an Englishman (I think) who lived (possibly still lives) in Tasmania. When Tim decided to shut his site down, I struggled to find another general cricket on-line community which pleased me, until I came across King Cricket, which I grew very fond of, very quickly and where I still hang out to this day.
It seems that, back in 2005, I simply mind-dumped an idiosyncratic (or perhaps I should say self-centred) write up of the Tufty match on the Ultra Cricket forum without so much as a scrape for my archive nor even a send on to my friends at the time. Unlike me.
Here is the note I sent to Charley the Gent in January 2006:
Charles Would you believe that since we spoke I have: ¨ Ascertained that the Ultra Cricket forum in question has been archived ¨ Ascertained that I did not keep a copy of the write up (silly me, silly mistake, won’t do that again) ¨ E-mailed Tim Astley in Tasmania who must have better things to do at 10:00 p.m. ¨ He has rescued the piece from his old server and sent it to me – I owe him, I owe him ¨ So here it is
(Can’t think why I didn’t send it to you at the time, except the euphoria of Edgbaston only a few days later made it all seem to pale somewhat)
Cheers Ian
Here is my contemporaneous but self-centred write up of the 2005 Tufty match, as posted on the Ultra Cricket Forum and rescued by Tim Astley.
Match report dated 1 August 2005
Tufty Stackpole v The Children’s Society at North Crawley 31 July 2005.
Thought I’d report on our annual 40 overs a side charity match 31 July 2005. Tufty Stackpole (them) against The Children’s Society (us). It was a cracker!!
They batted first. Started slowly but then built steadily. They took advantage of the fact that one of our two main seamers broke down after 3 overs. As a result, we didn’t take enough wickets early doors and had to resort to 6th and 7th bowling options. They posted 254.
I’m asked to open the batting “to try and take some shine off the ball and see off their strike attack”. Managed to survive 12 or so overs, much of it using the “Geoff Boycott method for playing Glenn McGrath” (get t’single and watch from t’other end) against their best bowler, although I did straight drive him for 4 once – the best shot I have ever played and probably ever will. Made 14 at a strike rate of 40/45ish. Got out to the dibbly leg-side spinner as usual. Disappointed to get out (as always) but job done.
Even our better batsmen found it really hard on a low slow wicket that was getting lower and slower, until we found ourselves c60/3 off 20, requiring nearly 10 an over off the last 20 overs. Twenty20 here we come. By this stage, I was umpiring.
Slowly but surely our better batsmen got going, not least an enormous Saffer who also bowled and fielded superbly and who decided the best way to deal with this problem was in sixes off their medium pacers. Cars in the car park, sheds and conservatories in neighbouring gardens took a battering. It was awesome to watch from the umpire’s position.
However, the run rate required stubbornly hovered around 11 or 12 for a long time and we lost a couple of wickets at the other end. After 37 overs we had 225 for 5 so needed 30 off 3 and then we lost the big Saffer. 28 off 16 balls required, one real batsman left and numbers 10 and 11 are the side-strained bowler and a decent batsman who dislocated a finger fielding who was only to bat “if absolutely necessary”.
13 runs off the next 10 balls was OK, but 15 runs off the last over seemed a big ask of tail enders. I thought we were done for.
But the pressure is also on the bowler, and although he was good enough to clean bowl “The Big Saffer” he could also bowl a couple of wides which were runnable, so we ended up needing 4 from the last ball and then (after a run wide) 2 from the last ball. The first run was taken comfortably for the tie and of course the boys tried to scramble the win. I was required to make the uncomfortable but honest decision to run out one of his own brave guys to determine the match as a tie off the last ball.
254 for both sides. But as we won the trophy last year, the tie meant that we retained the trophy.
Far and away the most exciting game of cricket I have ever played in. And of course Janie maintains her fine tradition of witnessing last over thrillers when she attends one-day games.
How many people ever witness two tied matches in one season (the other being the ODI final between England and Australia a few weeks ago)?
But today, to put it politely, I’m knackered.
Ian Harris
Charley The Gent chimed in with some idiosyncratic (or do I mean self-centred) points of his own:
Hello Ian.
Absolutely wonderful – it brought it all back, floooooding back!! and what a great bloke Tim is (who ever he is – and why on his server in Tasmania of all places!)
If I had to nit pick!! no mention of the other opening bowler who had is best 5 over spell EVER! and the other opening batsman who took all (well nearly all) of the most aggressive fast bowler, who had a strange habit of staring at the batsman after each ball (and others at the same time! ) there was a lot about you in the report!
The only tactical error this opening bowler, opening bat and Captain (is there anything I do not do on the pitch?) was to let Mat bowl – but he did want to showboat to his girl friend!!
I do agree it was the best match ever and in the best year ever for English Cricket – which we all were are a part of.
Thanks for retrieving this (and to Tim!)
Charles
What else can and should I add to these contemporaneous gems from the archive? Well, strangely, there are some other memories I think worthy of note.
It transpires that the 2005 fixture was due to be a home match for The Children’s Society. Kyle The Offie (seen in the 2004 team photo second from the left with ball in hand) had tried to organise a ground for us in Tower Hamlets or Newham but had been let down at very short notice. Fortunately, the North Crawley CC ground was available that Sunday, so we (once again) presumed on the wonderful Tufty Stackpole hospitality and organised transport at the last minute.
Divan The Big Saffer, who came as part of Heinrich the Gangmaster’s seemingly limitless collection of sporty Saffers, became a bone of contention in future matches. He was SO big and SO strong – he played rugby for London Irish if I recall correctly – even when he tried to rein it in, his bowling terrorized the less experienced players who might join in the fun – e.g. in Z/Yen against Children Society matches.
But for the Tufty match Divan, was high class but certainly not “beyond class” and he was the saviour of the day in several ways. Not only was it his good contribution with the ball and massive contribution with the bat that turned the match into a last-ball thriller, but it was in his capacity as a sports physio that he sorted out poor RBK’s dislocated finger…
…a dislocation so extreme it made the poor lad’s hand look like something from an alien species, until Divan relocated it. Daisy was getting ready to take RBK to A&E but Divan said “let me look at it” and just…dealt with it.
“Are you sure?…” said Daisy, who is, after all, somewhat of a professional digit person. “Yes”, said Divan, “it’s what I do”, and then wandered back to his fielding position in the outfield. Classic.
The other element of this match that deserves some extrapolation is Mat Tazzy’s grandstanding for his new girlfriend. Charley was quite right that Mat should not have bowled – ever. In fact, Mat should never have taken off his wicket-keeping gloves. He was an exceptional keeper – had been on Somerset’s books for several years although left before progressing from Second XI to full County representation – way above our level. But that day he wanted to show off to his new girlfriend and hang around a bit in the outfield – so I think Harsha took the gloves for an hour or more that match.
Unfortunately Mat’s grandstanding also extended to his batting that match, so unlike the previous year’s equivalent fixture, when his heroics were a major contribution to us winning the match, in 2005 Mat got out having a swipe for glory far too early in the piece.
I wish I could remember the identity of our strike bowler who broke down early and then needed to help slog out the last few runs…along with poor old RBK who did need to bat with that dislocated/relocated finger and swallow some dirt while diving for the last run scramble.
When this extended piece gets a wider reading and circulation, perhaps some of those who were at the match will read it, remember and help me to fill in some of these details.
On the matter of that final ball run out; Mat Tazzy, along with several members of our team, maintained that they didn’t think that the wicket-keeper put down the wicket correctly in executing the run out and that I, as the adjudicating square-leg umpire, should have adjudged the run to have been made and the match won rather than tied.
I am convinced that I saw the keeper swipe his arms above the stumps, without dislodging anything, to take the ball and then swipe the stumps with his arms once the ball was in his gloves. I had by far the best view of all the post-match pundits on that subject – apart from the keeper who I think an honest fellow and who was adamant that my reading of the event was spot on. But I was shaking like a leaf with excitement as we came off the field, so perhaps I didn’t look as credible an umpire as I should have looked.
One final, self-centred point. I said in my contemporaneous report that I thought my straight drive for four off “Cooperman” was the best shot I have ever played and probably ever will. 13 to 14 years on, I haven’t played a shot that comes close to comparing with my memory of it.
Similarly, when I said then “far and away the most exciting game of cricket I have ever played in”, it is fair now to add, “and probably ever will”, to that thought too.
Today, Janie and I were battling out the tightest of sets of tennis, as oft we do. We ended the match at 5-5 as a tie. We tend to do that if the scores are level at 5-5 or 6-6. Janie and I believe in ties.
Of course there is a huge difference between amateur sport and professional sport. But Janie also felt strongly that the 2019 world cup should similarly have been determined as a tie and shared between England and New Zealand. I’m not 100% sure; it certainly isn’t the modern way for tournaments.
But on the way home from our epic tennis tied match today, my mind wandered to a match that Janie and I witnessed in that glorious and exciting summer of cricket that was 2005. We went to Lord’s to see the final of the one day international (ODI) tri-series between Australia, Bangladesh and England; a final between England and Australia that ended as a tie.
How was that tie resolved, I wondered. I couldn’t remember. So I looked it up.
In fact, back in 2005, the playing conditions for that tri-series – presumably agreed between the three nations but ultimately under the auspices of the England and Wales Cricket Board (ECB) rather than the International Cricket Council (ICC) – determined that final as a tie if the scores were level after 50 overs.
England and Australia shared the trophy.
No super over (I don’t recall ever seeing those back then), no boundaries count back (I don’t recall seeing that until this most recent ICC World Cup), no priority to the team with the most wickets remaining at the end of their innings (that method had been discredited quite early in the Duckworth- Lewis era as anathema to the mathematical logic of wickets and overs as being algorithmic-equivalent resources that can become exhausted).
It had been a great match, that 2005 ODI final. At first we thought England were way ahead…
…even when Australia crawled back to post 196 runs…
…until England ended up 33/5 and we thought England had blown it…
…until England somehow managed to crawl back to 196/9, securing a couple of leg byes off the last ball to tie the match.
Perhaps others in the crowd thought differently, but Janie and I left the ground feeling thoroughly satisfied with our day’s entertainment, the thrills and spills of the ebb and flow…
…and a feeling that justice had been done to a hard-fought match when the trophy was shared for a tie.
Who would have won on a super over? We’ll never know.
Who would have won on boundary count-backs? Australia.
Who would have won on the basis of fewer wickets lost? England.
Who gives a fig how the match would have been determined if the playing conditions had been different? Only a pedant, really, as either or both teams might have played the final few balls differently if other playing conditions were being applied.
It was a summer of fine margins, really. England prevailed in the tournament that really mattered, the Ashes…
…we were there that day too – the final day of the 2005 Ashes series – to be Ogblogged in the fullness of time. But that Ashes win came as a result of a drawn match at the end and a couple of really tight finishes, especially the Edgbaston test (also to be Ogblogged in the fullness).
The key takeaway (for those unwilling to click) is that I did not think anything like as highly of this book. I did enjoy Ed’s third book, What Sport Tells Us About Life, but that is another story.
My second commission from MTWD was to review each of Ed Smith’s first two books. Ed had been signed by Middlesex in the autumn of 2004.
I had been meaning to read Playing Hard Ball for some time anyway, so the commission was a good excuse to read that one.
I got to know Ed quite well that summer of 2008, when he was injured and sitting around the pavilion a lot second half of the season. Coincidentally, he and his then girlfriend (now his wife) Becky lived just around the corner from me in W2. I would run into him/them occasionally in the neighbourhood for a few years after that injury forced his early retirement from the game.
During the summer of 2004 I discovered the Middlesex Till We Die (MTWD) website and started corresponding with people through that on-line community’s message board. I decided to use Janie (Daisy’s) pet name/nickname for me, Ged Ladd, as my moniker on MTWD.
That autumn, the site moderators (in those nascent days David Slater, Kevin Ziants and Jeremy Horne) electronically “tapped me up” and asked if I would contribute some editorial pieces for the winter. I think we even met up that autumn to discuss matters. Part of the deal with the sites host, Sportnetwork, is that you must provide regular (at least fortnightly) editorial, otherwise the site (including the popular message boards) gets shut down. The minimum editorial requirement is easy to meet during the season (e.g. with match reports), but the long off-season presented a problem for the moderators at that time (and as I understand it, still presents a problem today, 2016 as I write).
Anyway, I enjoy writing articles and was happy to oblige. My first contribution was a “career tombstone” piece when Sven Koenig, one of Middlesex’s gritty opening batsmen, decided to hang up his boots. Word reached me later that Sven had seen the piece and rather liked it, as indeed he should.
The highlight, in my view, is the statistical device that indicated that it was not the colour of the ball (white or red) that affected Sven’s batting average, but the colour of his clothing, presumably for sartorial rather than cricketing reasons. Strangely, no cricket administrator seems to have picked up this theory and run with it since when assessing other dapper cricketers. I cannot imagine why not.
Janie and I formed part of a very sparse crowd for this National League match, which was meant to be 45 overs-a-side, in 2004.
The crowd was especially sparse because the game, which had been scheduled for the Sunday, was moved to a reserve day on the Monday because Leicestershire found themselves in the final (and indeed winners) of the almost new Twenty20 tournament that year.
But Janie and I had booked a day off that Monday anyway and the weather was deceptively good earlier in the day.
I remember only a few details about this match; Janie remembers less. I do recall sitting at the front of the Tavern Stand, with Darren Stevens fielding right in front of us.
Daisy (Janie) wanted to know about Leicestershire’s celebrations and party after their cup-winning success a couple of days earlier.
For a while, Darren Stevens played Daisy’s questions with a characteristically straight bat. But Daisy’s line of questioning and her persuasive manner can bamboozle even the most seasoned batsman. Eventually he failed to pick her metaphorical doosra, which was expressed roughly in the form…
Oh go on, you can tell me, I won’t tell anyone…
…at which point he spilled a few beans about the celebrations and party – now long-since forgotten by us, even if that victorious night remains memorable to him. The details he passed on will have been mere crumbs.
Still, when the rain came to interrupt Middlesex’s rather poor innings before it might well have in any case been brought to a premature end, Janie and I took refuge in the Middlesex Room.
There we and a few other refugees from the rain joined “the Middlesex gossips”, as I used to describe the regulars who tended to reside in that room.
I vaguely remember Auntie Janet expressing an interest in Mark Cleary, although Ottis Gibson and Claude Henderson had been the pick of the Leicestershire bowlers that day. I think this day might have been the only time I saw Charlie Dagnall bowl.
As it became clear that the weather was clearing up and that the Leicestershire innings would go ahead, reduced to 20 overs due to rain, the mood among the Middlesex fans became quite pessimistic.
“It’ll be a Twenty20 innings for them and they are the Twenty20 champions; we don’t stand a chance”, was the prevailing view. We (Middlesex) were offering a pretty depleted bowling attack that day too, due to injuries, wear and tear restings etc.
But Daisy’s view was laden with inside information:
I’m not so sure – they had one heck of a party to celebrate their cup win on Saturday, which by the sound of it went deep into yesterday…