Mrs Malloy – Ian Louis Harris

When Everything Went The Right Way, Women’s World Cup Final, Lord’s, 23 July 2017

Back in October 2016, when the Women’s World Cup dates and venues were announced, I mentioned to Janie that we should book out 23 July for that match and also suggested that we ask Chas and Dot (aka Charley the Gent and Mrs Malloy).

“Don’t put me and Dot through the embarrassment of her constructing excuses for not coming to the cricket”, said Janie, “she really doesn’t like cricket”.

“But I know they enjoy watching women’s cricket together; they often go to Chelmsford to watch it…let’s leave it for now”, I replied.

Less than 48 hours later, I received an e-mail from Chas:

…I know this may sound a strange ask, but Dot likes the English ladies cricket, she has seem them play at Essex for a number of years and really enjoys watching them.

I mentioned the women’s world cup final at Lord’s next year and she expressed an interest to go!…

…My favour to ask, do you have any influence in getting reasonable seats?

I called Janie to have a gloat, knowing that she would make me suffer for it at some stage, but still Janie expressed delight at the idea and instructed me to get tickets for all four of us.

My reply to Chas:

Really funny that you wrote to me about this today, because I mentioned it as an idea to Janie over the weekend. Janie said that she’d be up for it but as Dot had said no to the pavilion the other week and to Edgbaston in August, Janie was sure that Dot would be uninterested and that we should stop putting pressure on her to do things she doesn’t want to do blah blah.

Anyway, members’ area seats will go on sale in a private December mailing after the ICC public sale. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble snapping up enough tickets to enable all four of us to go, as long as I leap in quick for the initial members’ sale, which I shall of course do.

And so I did.

There was much doubt about the weather in the run up to finals day; every time I looked at the weather forecast it changed, but the nearer we got to the day the more ominous the “risk of showers” sounded. On the morning itself, it looked as though the afternoon rain might be so bad that the match would be rain reduced or even held over to Monday, which would have been such a shame.

As it turned out, apart from a couple of sudden but blustery/blow-over type showers, which did not even interrupt play, the weather smiled on Lord’s for the whole match.

We had managed to persuade Chas and Dot to accept our hospitality picnic-wise, not least because I had enjoyed their picnic hospitality at Chelmsford recently and would enjoy it again for the start of the Edgbaston test in August.

Hence the large fillet of dry-aged beef which graced our table on Friday after my MCC v HAC match and then bulged out of the large brioche rolls for Sunday; with wasabi mayonnaise to bring out the flavours. Janie’s other culinary masterpiece was equally enormous brioche rolls stuffed with Duchy of Cornwall turkey, enhanced with a lemon mayonnaise. But we all agreed that the beef was the standout.

Daisy and I brought a jolly Provencal rose wine to grace the turkey and a bold southern hemisphere Cabernet Sauvignon to support the beef. Plus various small nibbles, vegetables and fruit – not least pears for Chas – although all the pears came home with us. Chas and Dot also brought a bottle of fruity Riesling, lots of nibbles and plenty of sweet stuff, most of which went home with them again. Plus soft drinks and waters, most of which didn’t make it home.

We had probably just finished munching the turkey rolls when Daisy took this picture

As the England innings went on, we reduced our estimates of what a par score might be. In the end Chas reckoned 225 and I reckoned 240, so when the England innings closed at 228, we agreed that we should have a good match on our hands.

The interval entertainment was a gospel choir singing some soul and gospel standards at high volume and with great intensity. Far more to our taste than the usual test match fare of marching bands, bagpipe bands or Yorkshire Tea folk with tea mugs on their heads and brass instruments in their mouths.

While Chas and Dot were taking a stroll in the interval, Daisy wanted to take a double selfie in similar style to the one she took at the test match two week’s previously.

Easier said than done, this selfie business, especially the double-selfie. After about five attempts I was getting a little exasperated, although I’m sure it didn’t show on my face…

…and soon we were both seeing the funny side of it:

Look out for the gentleman in the blue shirt behind us, showing his daughter something on his smart phone

Strangely, I chose the above photo (from a batch of many) without noticing the blue-shirted gentleman and his daughter behind us in just that one picture.

About five minutes after Janie took that photo, when she popped out briefly and just before Chas and Dot returned, I heard someone bellow, “IAN” at high volume. I turned around and saw the blue-shirted gentleman waving at me.

“Hello Ian,” he said as I wandered up to speak with him, “I’m Jeff Tye’s son”.

“Chris!”, I said, “it’s been years and years. How did you recognise me?”

“I wasn’t 100% sure, but I knew that, if it was you, you’d turn around if I shouted out your name loud enough.”

Chris’s dad, Big “Papa Zambezi” Jeff is one of our Heavy Roller’s clan, last seen with us at Edgbaston in 2015.

More on Big “Papa Zambezi” Jeff and our tales of derring-do can be found in the MTWD archive – click here.

Chris was very pleased to learn that Chas was also with us, so we all spent a few minutes chatting at the end of the interval. Chris’s daughter (Jeff’s grand-daughter) must have wondered what all the fuss was about.

The second half of the match was so exciting yet it seemed to pass so quickly. An early wicket, then a good stand, then a smart run-out, then another good stand…

…India looked as though they had the match in the bag at 190-odd for three. Just before that point, Chas had said game over. I said it looked grim but one wicket could change the whole thing and I still gave England a one-in-three chance around that point.

Daisy kept telling us that we weren’t getting behind the team enough and was yelling, “come on England” at high volume as only she can.

Then a wicket…no, two wickets…no, a flurry of wickets…then some incredibly tense cricket…then an England win.

When Anya Shrubsole took her fifth wicket, the little boy who was sitting with his mum next to us, scoring the whole match carefully in a big red scorebook, told Chas proudly that Anya Shrubsole’s dad was his PE teacher. That was a bit of an “oh, wow!” moment for all of us. Soon after that, Anya took her sixth wicket and quite rightly won the player of the match. The little boy looked incredibly happy.

The scorecard and everything you ever wanted to know (apart from Ogblog of course) can be found here.

England Women Receive The Trophy Right In Front Of The Warner Stand

Double-selfie once slightly more-oiled and celebratory than the earlier double-selfies

Heather Knight while the lap of honour stops down our way

One last toast with Chas and Dot before we part company

It had been a great day for us; everything had gone our way.

But more importantly, I think it had been a great tournament and a great day for women’s cricket. The standard of women’s cricket is improving so quickly now; this was genuinely entertaining sport at a very high level of skill. This year’s women’s world cup has shown off that improvement in the best possible way, with several high quality and nail-biting matches at the conclusion of the tournament, not least the high-profile final which we had just witnessed.

Lord’s had been a sell-out, with a really good vibe all day – a far cry from the corporate Champagne-swilling of the tests or the muscular beer-swilling of the T20 sell-outs – a different style crowd enjoying the cricket and many people enjoying seeing cricket at Lord’s for the first time.

As the interval gospel choir had put it, “Oh Happy Day”.

An Exploratory Mission Into Deepest, Darkest Essex, Prested Hall and Chelmsford, 27 & 28 June 2017

It seemed like a brilliant idea when I/we arranged the trip.

Middlesex were playing Essex in the first ever round of day/night county championship cricket matches. I’d drive out to Prested Hall on the Tuesday morning, drop my bags, have a real tennis lesson, join Charley “The Gent” at Chelmsford for cricket on the Tuesday afternoon, return to Prested after stumps at night, check out/play real tennis the next morning, drive back to Chelmsford for at least a couple of sessions play Wednesday, then head back to London in reasonable time towards the end of that day.

Indeed, it was a pretty brilliant idea, confounded in part only by the weather “turning Charley on us” (as it were) and Middlesex’s dismal performance. Of course the latter was no disappointment to Charley “The Gent” Malloy, who is enjoying watching his team ride high in the county championship this season.

The weather forecast for Tuesday was changing on an almost hourly basis. Charley at one point Monday messaged me to see if I still wanted to give it a go, but when I explained that I was coming out to deepest Essex anyway, we agreed to meet at the ground Tuesday come what may.

In the morning, at Prested, I had the honour (and pleasant surprise) of getting my real tennis lesson from Rob Fahey, the former and longest-reigning world champion. I doubt if I was utilising even a tiny fraction of his skills and knowledge, but I learnt a great deal and he was a thoroughly delightful coach for that hour. He filled my head with all sorts of stuff that will probably come in handy down stream but which I have so far been utterly unable to put into practice. A few simple tips on placement of shots and serves are already coming in handy.

Then to my apartment room in the health centre area. Comfortable-looking and very large – there would even be room for Janie, Benjy the Baritone Uke and all of our attendant paraphernalia in one of those, I noted for future reference.

Then a very dingy drive to Chelmsford, but it wasn’t raining and the forecast suggested that we might get a few hours of play before the rain set in for the evening. But five minutes before play was due to start, an unscheduled, sharp shower put paid to the prospects of play for a while.

Chas and I braved the pavilion while all that was going on, which gave us a chance to catch up on news and gossip over coffee (not bad stuff and just one nicker per shot) plus some headway into Mrs Malloy’s splendid bap sandwiches.

The weather looked reasonably promising again for a while; they even announced a 16:25 start and the Middlesex players came out to warm up. But almost inevitably it started to rain again at 16:20. Looking at the forecast and the rain radar, Chas and I agreed that the prospects of play now were close to zero and that we had cunningly focused most of our attention on the more perishable elements of the picnic, allowing the less perishable elements to return the next day.

I returned in the driving rain to Prested Hall, where I was able to catch up on my reading and blogging (as well as sleep) in that comfortable appartment/room during the evening and into the next morning. I had a very tasty light bistro meal in the evening there, again noting that this would more than do the job for me and Daisy on a future visit.

In the morning, after checking out of my room, I played real tennis against a very charming gentleman who managed to capitalise well on all the new ideas drifting around my head (but not onto my racket) from yesterday’s lesson. Why I should suddenly start over-hitting and mistiming my shots in these circumstances is beyond me.

I tried a bit of bestial roaring when stretching for difficult gets and my opponent responded in kind, less often as I was making him stretch less. We were on the Prested Glass court – across the other side of the galleries is the Prested Far court, where a far finer exponent of bestial roaring than either of us was playing that hour.

The upshot was, I just couldn’t get any sort of rhythm going and my opponent played really well for his handicap. Still, I couldn’t have lost to a nicer chap, who celebrated his win by buying me a coffee in the bistro afterwards. This was good timing, as once he had gone and I had done some warm-down stretches and showered, I was ready to say goodbye to the friendly, helpful Prested team and head back to Chelmsford.

Chelmsford was once again well gloomy; I even drove through some drizzle as I approached town. But the cricket ground itself was dry and the forecast was far more promising than Tuesday’s.

Indeed, although we got the occasional tiny bit of drizzle (perhaps merely mizzle) during the day, it mostly stayed dry; just seriously dark and gloomy throughout the day. Just as well this was a floodlit match, as I doubt if there would have been much if any play with a conventional red ball and no floodlights.

Even though we had spent some time together the previous day, Charley The Gent and I had no difficulty filling several more hours with chat. Tales of derring do from playing and watching matches in years gone by. A bit more news and gossip. Bants, although it is hard to bant too much when the match is so one -sided – click here for scorecard. The locals who were sitting around us seemed to enjoy some of our chirp, so it can’t have been too bad.

We were in Charley’s favourite position at the front of the Tom Pearce stand. At times we both felt a bit chilly and took turns taking a brisk stroll to get coffees from the pavilion.

There was a reasonably sized crowd but I’m sure it would have been so much better had the weather played ball; especially as Essex were doing so well.

Dot (Mrs Malloy) did us proud with the bap/sarnies yet again; corned beef, ham and cheese for me – I think Chas had some egg; we each got personalised sandwich boxes with kind notes from Dot; Chas’s note was signed off “wifey” which seemed rather quaint to me.

I wanted to get home in reasonable time, so when Essex declared soon after 20:30, that seemed the perfect moment for me to bow out after my very first taste of pink ball cricket. We’d had a really enjoyable couple of days.

The Day Charley the Gent & I Didn’t Go To Radlett To Watch Cricket, But Chas & Dot Did Come To Noddyland For Dinner

Most of what needs to be said about this day is summarised in the King Cricket piece about it – click here or below:

Middlesex Second XI v Essex Second XI at Radlett

If by any chance anything ever goes awry with that link, it is scraped to here.

In case you can’t be bothered to click but can be bothered to read my scribblings, the plan was for me and Chas to go to Radlett to watch some cricket, after which we would retire to Noddyland where Dot, Chas’s wife would join Chas, me and Janie for dinner.

In the end it rained such that cricket made no sense but a very pleasant dinner still made sense.

I’ll leave the final word to Chas:

…we had a great time yesterday, the house and garden are both very beautiful, the area is gorgeous, you both have made a very good decision to live there.
I felt a little embarrassed as the food was everything thing I adore, and lovely wine too!
To my amazement Dot enjoyed the Salmon and really enjoyed the hospitality, even the singing and ‘metal’ playing!
Don’t forget the option for you to see cricket at Essex is still very much open – just let me know some possible dates and I will organise.

I took Chas up on that offer – the following season – reported here and below:

Essex v Australians at Chelmsford, Day 2, 2 July 2015

But before that, indeed fewer than 10 days later, Chas and I were together again at Lord’s for Day Two of the Sri Lanka Test:

England v Sri Lanka Day 2 Lord’s Test Match, King Cricket Match Report, 13 June 2014

Those are both events reported more comprehensively on King Cricket than on Ogblog!

Essex v Australians at Chelmsford – match report

England v Sri Lanka at Lord’s, day two match report

Middlesex v Essex T20, Lord’s, Followed By Artemis Quartet, Wigmore Hall Lates, 26 June 2009

I often say that there are only two places remaining on earth where staff and stewards still call me “young man”: Lord’s and the Wigmore Hall.

So what better places to celebrate Janie’s birthday than both of those august institutions?

We’d probably booked the Wigmore Hall late night concert before we knew/realised that Middlesex were to play Essex in the T20 tournament at Lord’s that evening. Low marks to the cricket authorities for demographic matching for scheduling that fixture at that venue that night, but they probably won’t make that mistake again in a hurry.

Anyway, Charley “The Gent” Malloy was keen to see that fixture and suggested (once he knew it was Janie’s birthday and that we had a later evening engagement at “The Wig”), that we make that match a couples outing, with Dot (Mrs Malloy) up for the idea of a T20 game and a picnic at Lord’s. So that’s what we did.

Cricket

Chas and Dot were able to get to Lord’s early, so they established a good spot at the front of the Tavern Stand for us. Their hopes and expectations for the match (as Essex supporters) were much higher than ours as Middlesex supporters. Essex had been doing well in the tournament that year, whereas Middlesex, despite being champions, had been consistently poor. So much so, I had written a scathing “futurology” MTWD match report of the Hampshire away match earlier in the week, before that match even took place.

But of course, as fate would have it, Middlesex played a rare decent match and spoiled Chas and Dot’s fun a bit:

Here is a link to the scorecard.

But it clearly only spoiled their fun a bit, as Chas said in a note the following Monday:

That was a super evening last Friday at Lords with all of us there; it was an absolute delight, although I suspect that the loss by Essex cost them dearly!

Music

The Wigmore Late concert was a real treat for Janie; she loves a bit of Piazzolla and this was a concert full of the stuff.

Here is a link to an interesting article from The Telegraph explaining why this quartet likes playing Piazzolla.

It was a lovely concert.

It had been a long evening; I recall us going back to the flat feeling very tired but also very happy.

BENTLEY BRING AND BRAAI CRICKET MATCH, Unfinished Masterpiece, 20 JULY 2008

Here is the unfinished “masterpiece”, which started to tell the tale of the Ian Harris Invitation XI v Charles Bartlett Invitation XI, Bentley CC – reported in a more Ogblog stylee here.

Sorry I didn’t have time to write a shorter one…

…or a complete one.

BENTLEY BRING AND BRAAI CRICKET MATCH – 20 JULY 2008

Big Match Build Up

Hailing a brave new world, the annual Z/Yen v The Children’s Society cricket match had been laid to rest as a fixture. Several of the original protagonists worked for neither organisation. Further, numerous transfers and inter-marriages had occurred over the years. It now seemed more fitting for the match to be renamed appropriately. Ian Harris Invitation XI v Charles Bartlett Invitation XI sounded good. Charles agreed to design a new trophy. Even Dot Bartlett thought that “The Harris/Bartlett Trophy” sounded very grand, but Charles’ ego couldn’t sanction the title that way round, so the new trophy was named The Bartlett/Harris Trophy.

As the day of the big match approached, both captains were busy making their plans of campaign, more or less as usual. Some things never change.

In order to cultivate a rich seam of talent, Ian had engaged the services of Heinrich The Gangmaster, who had in any case long-since moved on from The Children’s Society and was doing a great deal of work for Z/Yen. Ian therefore claimed rights over Heinrich and his entire South African entourage. Since Albus, top talent that he is, had married Fran from Z/Yen and led the way to a classic victory in 2007, it seemed only fitting that Heinrich’s entire gang switched allegiance.

There were fierce salvos of e-mail and a few frosty telephone and face-to-face exchanges, mostly revolving around size and shape of players. “No giants” was the gist of it, but definitions and playing conditions as usual got blurred in the debate.

Heinrich The Gangmaster was trying to be helpful when Ian spoke with him on the telephone. “We can easily put together a winning team”, said Heinrich, “Rubeus is available, for example”. “But Rubeus is a giant”, said Ian, “and I have promised Charles that we’d not field any giants”. “Rubeus is only half-giant”, said Heinrich, unhelpfully, “but what about Lucius and Draco?” “They’re evil”, said Ian, “I can only field players who we can be sure won’t try to take the opposition’s heads off”. “What’s happened to your sense of fun?”, asked Heinrich. “I lost it when you arranged for all of those giants and unhinged people to play against my team a couple of years ago,” Ian replied. “I think I get the message”, said Heinrich.

Meanwhile Charles was taking no chances. To counter the perceived threat, Charles Bartlett had cunningly ensured that he had access to the services of as many Bentley CC players as he might need, plus the festering talent pool of Tufty Stackpole, as well as the Children’s Society people, their friends and relations.

Of course, you wouldn’t guess any of that from the discussions between Charles and Ian. “Not sure I can even get eleven people,” said Charles on one occasion, “been let down left right and centre. Even that Bentley lad, Andy, is doubtful now.” “We can always see if Heinrich the Gangmaster can find us some more South African hired hands,” said Ian. “Funny you should mention that”, said Charles, “as I believe The Children’s Society has a couple of Heinrich’s mob back on their books again”. “But no giants”, said both Charles and Ian in unison.

Meanwhile Dot Bartlett took on the unenviable task of arranging the most important element of the fixture: the catering for the day. She was none too pleased when the original choice of caterers helpfully informed her that the firm had been taken over and that the new owners “wouldn’t get out of bed” for a poxy little catering contract like ours. But Dot scrambled around and found a suitable alternative, little knowing that Heinrich The Gangmaster had his own ideas.

The Day of the Match – Ian Harris Invitation XI Innings

Come the toss, Ian was a little concerned that two members of his team were still missing: Michael and Elisabeth Mainelli. Even more concerned was Ian when he lost the toss and was promptly inserted by Charles, as Ian was planning on opening the batting together with Michael. It was a cunning plan. Ian was to do his regular sandpaper bit, while Michael was to “pinch hit” using the baseball stance and technique which worked rather well against Barnardo’s 10 years ago.

But the Mainelli family arrived just in the nick of time. The Mainelli’s came as a gang of four, including daughter Xenia (only the cruel and misguided suggest that Xenia was named after the business) and their priest, Father Bill (taking no chances this time, we nearly needed the last rites read more than once last time those big Saffers played).

“There’s a zoo, there’s a zoo”, shouted Xenia excitedly as they arrived. “I can see zebra, wildebeeste, crocodiles, ostriches and snakes”.

“That’s not a zoo”, explained Michael, “it looks as though the Saffers have brought some food with them. This looks distinctly like a ‘bring and braii’ to me. If I’d known, I’d have brought some charismatic mega fauna with me as an offering.”

Meanwhile, Elisabeth was protesting that she had no suitable clothing or even footwear, as Michael had forgotten to tell her that she was playing today. A very brief panic ensued, until Heinrich reminded Ian that we could, if utterly desperate, engage the services of Antonius Bloch, his former flatmate. While Charles was remonstrating that Ian’s team was sleezing in a last-minute Saffer giant, Henirich assured everyone that Antonius’s only known sporting prowess was at chess. Indeed, we could se Antonius playing with a rather shadowy-looking figure as we spoke. Ominously, Father Bill was mumbling incantations at rapid speed while keeping a very safe distance from the chess-players.

While Elisabeth was remonstrating with Michael that she would have gladly played had she only been told that she was in the team, Ian was simultaneously rushing Michael into his pads and various protective clothing, all the while speaking in tongues about “pinch hitting”, “run rates”, “leg side”, “cow corner” and such like.

The problem was, of course, that in the intervening years Michael had seen a fair smattering of cricket and even been to see some 1^st class matches, so he had seen how batting was supposed to be done. So Michael ignored all this strange instructions and simply knuckled down to emulate the technique he had observed.

Several years seemed to pass as Michael and Ian’s opening partnership got underway. The entire crowd fell into a deep and profound slumber, except for Heinrich the Braaier and his Assistant Braaier, Severus.

Suddenly there was a terrifying roar, the sound of a wild beast in agony.

“Nnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh”.

“Jou dom stuk kak, Severus”, yelled Heinrich, “I’ve told you before, man, don’t put live wildebeeste onto the braai”.

“I didn’t, man, that yell was Ian saying ‘no’ to a run”, said Severus, sheepishly.

“Sorry man. Score still nought for nought then?”, asked Heinrich.

“Something like that”, said Severus.

No amount of pleading managed to persuade Michael to try a scoring shot, despite his pinch hitting role, but eventually he was put out of his misery and Matt joined Ian at the crease. Matt didn’t find it much easier than Ian and Michael to get the ball off the square of the pudding-like wicket. Eventually Matt decided to play a straight one, played across it, and Charles Bartlett had clean bowled Matt of all people! Some say that Charles did himself some permanent damage celebrating that wicket, while others insist that the damage had been caused a long time ago through Charles’ strange habit of not wearing a box when batting.

Ian Harris Invitation XI v Charles Bartlett Invitation XI, Bentley CC, 20 July 2008

Charles Bartlett in action, me umpiring. It’s Chas’s photo, thanks Chas, but clearly he didn’t take it!

A few of us were clearly taking it seriously that year. The diary and e-mail correspondence suggests that we had a net on 27 May at Lord’s – me Chas, Matt and Adam Hinks:

Just a note to remind you all that we are netting this evening. See you at HQ Indoor School in whites just before 18:00.

Adam – FYI – I’ve bought and am bringing my helmet after our last net together! Although, having seen Mr Flynn on Friday, I’m not sure I’ll be trying to hook the head-high stuff anyway!!

Chas typically complained about aches and pains the next day:

Great being at Lords last night, but am I the only one suffering from multitude of aches and pains from the cricket net?

And he calls me a wuss.

The planned 10 June net was cancelled by Lord’s; the diary says that we had a net with bowling machine 15 July (presumably the rescheduled gig.) I think that was just me, Chas and Matt, after which both of them claimed that they didn’t much like the bowling machine, so I don’t think we did that again. But the machine experience got me SO ready for battle. I think Moses (Hallam Moseley) was the coach that day. Either him or Jamie Thorpe, whose left-arm bowling when without the machine tended to cause me all sorts of problems.

Anyway, this 20 July match was briefly reported in the Now and Z/Yen July 2008 issue, here, with the following words:

Caught Harris, Bowled Mainelli

A large Z/Yen contingent sallied forth to Brentwood in Essex, late July, to contest the new Bartlett-Harris Cricket Trophy. A Charles Bartlett Invitation XI (curiously similar to the old Children’s Society team) took on an Ian Harris Invitation XI (not discernibly different from the Z/Yen team of old). Z/Yen’s highlight of the day must have been Monique’s superb batting. But before that the lowlight of the day must have been the opening batting partnership between Messrs Harris and Mainelli; that managed to send any spectator who remained awake to sleep. Stick to the day job, fellas. But things were very different in the field, when those two teamed up for Ian Harris to take a sharp catch off the bowling of Michael – the first time he had ever bowled in his life. Ian also took several wickets with his moon-balls, including both Bartletts (father and son) in the same over. So perhaps Messrs Harris and Mainelli might choose to give up the day job in favour of cricket after all. As is so often the case, Ian’s team came second, but in any case The Children’s Society always wins, on this occasion to the tune of several hundred pounds raised towards that good cause. And a really good time was had by all; players and spectators alike.

There is a Flickr album with dozens of photos from this match (just one sample shown above and another below), with thanks to Charles Bartlett for the photos – click here.

Actually we have an embarrassment of photographic riches from this 2008 fixture; here is a link to the Z/Yen collection from that day – thanks (I think) to Monique Gore – click here.

I composed much but not all of a lengthy report on this match, from build up to part way through the first innings. Then I must have run out of ideas or steam. It builds on the style of the 2006 Tufty Stackpole report, which Charles Bartlett likes a lot.

Anyway, click here for the text of the unfinished masterpiece.

Perhaps I shall finish off the story one day. Perhaps not. Who knows where and when the muse will take me?

Far And Away The Most Exciting Game Of Cricket I Have Ever Played, Tufty Stackpole v The Children’s Society, North Crawley, 31 July 2005

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.

The Children’s Society Team, North Crawley, July 2004

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.

The Children’s Society Supporters, North Crawley, July 2004 . Back row l-r: The Boy Malloy, Mrs Malloy, Daisy. Front row l-r: Bananarama Monkey-Face, Hippity The Green Bunny.

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.

But those were heady days – we played the Tufty Match on 31 July, I wrote it up hurriedly on 1 August and probably did an unfeasible amount of work 1, 2 and the morning of 3 August. By the afternoon of 3 August I was playing garden cricket at Big “Papa Zambezi” Jeff’s place near Bedford (a stop-over ahead of Edgbaston) and by 4 August we were sitting in the front row of the Priory Stand watching the opening two days of one of the greatest test matches of all time. I have a lot of other writing to do about the summer of 2005. But I digress again.

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.

From Charley’s Archive, 2003 – It’s funny how some people can look the part and play with passion, without really bringing much ability to the party at all

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.

But I still have the memories. What a match.

Here is the January 2019 Googlies & Chinamen issue that published an edited version of this Ogblog piece – it’s all over pages 9 to 12.

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