The Children’s Society – Ian Louis Harris

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?

Ged Tries To Keep His Head While Kev Fly Slips, MTWD “Lost Masterpiece” Three Part Match Report on Z/Yen v The Children’s Society, Holland Park, 26 June 2007

14 years later, Barmy Kev & Mrs Barmy returned to the scene of the crime and relived Kev’s Holland Park/fly slip moment thusly.

Normal people who simply want to know a little about a great fun works match between Z/Yen and The Children’s Society should look at my main Ogblog entry for this day – click here.

The piece that follows is a ludicrously long match report, authored by me and Barmy Kev jointly. It was published as a three-parter on Middlesex Till We Die (MTWD) over the winter of 2007/2008 when we were desperate for feature material.

It is one of the MTWD “lost masterpieces”; as explained more fully in the posting linked here – Sportnetwork managed to lose all the features that were published on all of its web sites during a period around that time. However, I still have all the features that I wrote and edited. The version below is pre final edits and pre division into three parts.

I realise now that I started using pseudonyms, such as Charley “The Gent” Malloy back then, as early as 2007, prior to my King Cricket piece days. I should note, though, that new dad “Alex DeLarge” in this piece is not the same person as “Big Al DeLarge” from King Cricket pieces such as the one linked here.

It runs to over 4000 words. It is for connoisseurs, not normal people. You have been warned. Here goes:

Ged Tries to Keep Head as Kev Fly Slips

After 2 incomplete 20/20 games Monday and Wednesday, an MTWD editorial representation complete match took part on Tuesday. This match was full of drama and twists and turns and seeing our captain Ged becoming very animated.

Big Match Build Up – Qualification Rules – Ged’s View

The annual cricket match; Ged Ladd & Co v Charley “the Gent” Malloy’s Charity XI has become somewhat of a grudge match of late. Ged Ladd & Co employs 10 to 20 people at any one time, whereas Charley the Gent works for a large charity which employs over a thousand of people.

Team selection has become a matter of great debate in recent years, with Ged trying hard to stick to staff, associates, WAGs/HABs/relatives of staff, close friends and the like. Meanwhile Charlie “the Gent” had found a rich seam of massive Saffers (tangentially connected at best to charity staff), one of whom nearly killed someone last year by bowling proper medium pace to a man in his fifties with a serious heart condition.

Indeed, the Big Saffer qualification situation became severely muddied this year, as one of the Big Saffers, EK, fell in love with a member of Ged’s staff at the match 3 years ago and married her (now FK) a few weeks before this year’s fixture. Did this mean that some or all of the Saffers should now play for Ged? No – we agreed this year that we should be far more strict about the qualification rule. This made sense, but this year left Ged with a bit of a talent-pool shortage, despite having one Big Saffer unquestionably now qualified for Ged’s team by marriage, as several people from last year’s Ged team had hung up their boots to avoid the risk of further injury or worse.

The Pre-Match Encounters – Banter and Sledging – Ged’s View

Banter and sledging starts early for this fixture. March time normally, when the pitch is booked. Charley the Gent was dischuffed this year, as Regent’s Park was already fully booked so Ged’s people booked the synthetic pitch on Holland Park – coincidentally the scene of the initiating star-crossed lovers incident (EK & FK) three year’s ago and equally coincidentally the scene of the most recent victory by Ged Ladd & Co, in unseasonable weather conditions in 2004 (the evening before the abandoned Middlesex v West Indians fixture).

Charley “the Gent” was convinced that Ged had deliberately chosen “fortress Holland Park” to up his chances of a win. Ged would never do such a thing (have you noticed that great captains like Michael Vaughan and Ged refer to themselves in writing using the third person, by the way) but Ged certainly would get in early with the sledging. Ged and Charley had a couple of pre match nets and Ged warned Charley that he’d worked him out but refused to say where he’d set the field for said “working out”. Ged’s wicket-keeper, “The Tazmanian Devil” sent a long distance sledge, telling Charlie that Ged might as well tell him the field he’d set for him as Charlie lacks the talent to do anything about it, even if he knew what was on Ged’s mind a year in advance.

Meanwhile Ged had an horrific second net. Everywhere the ball can go to hit unprotected flesh and cause maximum pain, Ged managed to get hit. Below the pad on the front leg, above the pad on the back leg, both sides of the box and Ged even managed an upper cut into his own eye. Bruised in both body and ego, Charlie’s obvious pleasure at Ged’s discomforture was uncharitable to say the least. Charlie had a super net that day, bowling straight and putting Ged off his bowling line (it doesn’t take much) with some clean hitting.

You’d have thought that these were two bitter foes, but the reality is, once the grudge match is over, that Ged and the Tazmanian Devil join Charlie the Gent’s charity team for the rest of the season (one or two matches). From nemeses to stalwarts is but a few short strides.

Team Selection – Do We Have Eleven People Who Can Walk Today? – MTWD to the Rescue? – Ged’s View

As the day of the match approached, team selection was not going well for Ged. Indeed, Ged himself was struck down with a gastric bug a few days before the match and still felt very weak on the day before the fixture. Ged was thinking about standing aside himself, when he got the call from his practice manager that day, concerned that two of the team’s “dead certs” looked distinctly “uncert” due to illness. Ged decided that he’d have to play come what may. He didn’t want to have to ask Jez Horne to play – Jez is one of the founders of MTWD, a key member of Ged Ladd’s staff and one of the several who had suffered in 2006 and requested not to play.

But Barmy Kev had noticed Ged’s mention of the fixture on MTWD and e-mailed Ged to ask if he and Olivia could watch. Ged thought he spotted an opportunity. “By all means come and watch – copious beer and cake – you might even get a game”, read the e-mail. “I’d like to play – I can sport my Middlesex pink”, came the reply from Barmy Kev. “Got one”, thought Ged.

Big Match Build Up – Barmy Kev’s View

I had a last minute invitation to Ged Ladd’s company cricket event with possibility of playing. They weren’t desperate, honestly. Nor was I. And Ged’s mention of copious alcohol being available was purely incidental in me agreeing to turn up. I told Olivia that duty calls and so forth. I also told her that she’d finally get to meet Ged and Daisy. In fact, Ged has been saying for some time now that he and Daisy believe Olivia to be my imaginary friend, as I keep saying that she’ll be at matches and then she doesn’t come.

As, I arrive I am still uncertain whether I’ll be playing. The Ged Ladd & Co 11th man/woman has childcare issues and someone else had transportation delays. This is a logistical nightmare for captain Ged. And a nerve-wracking nightmare for several people who have turned up on the strict understanding that they do not want to play, only to drink and watch. Does Michael Vaughan have such problems when deliberating on final line-up before a test I wondered? Or Ed Smith when preparing Middlesex for a County Championship match? (Well, possibly…)

I was picked and given an impression my role would be a JD World cup “can’t bat /can’t bowl but hey its always an honour to be there” role.

Let the Game Begin – Ged’s View

A few of the Ged Laddites warm up and Ged realises that Barmy Kev probably can’t bat, can’t bowl and can hardly field (ideally qualified for the Ged Ladd & Co team), but he does have a bit of a throwing arm, so he could be more useful than most in a key fielding position. One of Ged’s favourite positions for amateur cricket is fly slip. Catches go there off slow-medium bowling and the position can often save one or four. It’s no-mans-land in real cricket but can become key in scratch cricket.

Ged also figures that his team’s bowling is probably not going to be strong enough to defend a total this year (crumbs, even Ged is going to have to bowl, the team is sooo short of bowling), so Ged will elect to bowl if he gets the chance. The artificial surface neutralises most if not all “bat first” advantage.

The best laid plans – Ged wins the toss and surprises Charlie the Gent and his team by electing to field. With quite a lot of cloud and a delayed start due to late arrivals, Charlie’s team are in no hurry now. Ged’s elected to do his batting later – in the dwindling light.

Let the Games Begin – Barmy Kev’s View

As I took the field I felt my credentials were extended to can’t field as Ged told me to field at Fly Slip. A rare position normally, in my view, reserved for the fielder you need to hide. I within the wide scope of position occasionally moved around to deep gully and would then sneak closer at times to barmy backward point to add some pressure and be in better earshot for my sledging.

Our team got off to perfect start – 2 early wickets. More surprising the 2nd was a decent batsman top edging one of Ged’s dolly drops. The very next ball the no. 4 batter, who was a woman, was deceived, I think by Ged’s flight, and stumped way out of crease. The umpire gave it not out, claimed unsighted. This woman later proved to be no mug with bat. It transpired she was a regular league player from South Africa and contributed to the bulk of the opposition total. “Co-incidentally”, another female in the opposing team was bowled 1st ball, and the same umpire belatedly called no ball. Ged was not happy and was hoping, if required, for a similar concession for our team for our 1 female and me in Middlesex Pink.

The Opening Salvos – Ged Reports

Knowing the opposition of old, Ged knew that Ged needed to hold back quite a bit of the better bowling for their big hitters down the order. So Ged decided to open the attack with EK’s military medium at one end and Ged himself with donkey drops at the other end. This was expected to give Ged a pop at Charlie the Gent himself, but that plan went awry (or well, depending on how you look on it) when EK sent Charlie’s stumps flying during the first over. Charlie was not having one of his better days so far.

Ged then bowled at a rather fearsome-looking tall lad named Matt, who lacked the Aussie accent that normally accompanies such a name but Matt looked like he could hold a bat and had chosen one with a long handle. It’s hard for most bowlers to get one to float in above the eye-line of such a lanky batsman, but a donkey-drop specialist has no fear of air and the result was as planned – back lift exaggerated, shape to shot diminished, tiny bit of top spin effective and the ball goes vertical. At that moment time stood still. The Tazmanian Devil keeper had not seen the ball and was stationery. It was like one of those horrible car-crash scenes in a movie in ultra slow motion and silence. Ged intervened. “Catch it, catch it”, cried Ged pointing in the direction of the descending missile. Meanwhile (no doubt) air defences were being put on red alert and UFO spotters all over Kensington were pointing their telescopes in the direction of Holland Park. The Tazmanian Devil set off on his run forwards and dived headlong to take a brilliant catch. Ged had taken his first wicket in over 30 years (let’s be fair folks, Ged doesn’t usually bowl) and the oppo are two down.

Next ball, Ged decides to try a similar delivery again. Ged knows that the larger-than-life South African woman before him, Charlene, is no mug. She’s played cricket at a very impressive level in South Africa and is Charlie the Gent’s proposed secret weapon for the late July “UnPro40” fundraising fixture. Up goes the ball (delivery), down the track comes Charlene, unaware of the almost infinite variations that might occur whenever Ged is daft enough to try to bowl, she is beaten hook line and sinker by the “flight” and is stumped by a good many yards. The batsmen had almost crossed in fact. Charlie the Gent’s umpire says not out and Ged is denied a chance at a hat trick. Possibly just as well – Ged did once take a hat trick with donkey drops in a school game, more than 30 years ago. Ged’s still talking about it (it’s a dull story folks, unless you happen to be Ged) and the schoolmaster who was umpiring the game has never really recovered from the fit of uncontrollable laughter the landmark event induced in him.

And Now, Back to the Match – Charity XI Innings – Barmy Kev Reports

Anyway, after a promising start the opposition run rate was increasing and Ged was getting flustered. I didn’t help Ged’s blood pressure by tactically moving myself from fly slip to close in to a new batsman. I was told to go back to fly slip in no uncertain terms.

Next over seeing a massive offside gap, I moved myself to point and was not spotted by Ged. Typically, a thickish edge looped over slip ahead of third man and guess who it would have been a chance for if he had simply done as he was told and guess who wasn’t happy with me??

My next contribution came soon afterwards, Not wishing to wind up our stressed captain any further, I fielded at fly slip about half way back to boundary. A flying top edge came our way, bisecting me and 1st slip. 1st slip was running back and I was running towards the ball at easy catchable height. I was determined to catch this and shouted, “leave”, but either first slip was deaf or equally determined; I spectacularly pulled-out at the last minute, diving out of the way as 1st slip caught the ball comfortably. I’m not sure whether relief was the vital wicket or serious injury being avoided.

I was asked by our Tazmanian Devil of a keeper to move to point, rising the wrath of Ged, but there I stopped a hard hitting shot saving four runs and was pleased I made a tangible contribution in my more favoured position.

After 20 overs the Charlie “The Gent” Malloy’s Charity XI achieved 110 runs – in the context of previous games a good total. I was hopeful the 4 runs I saved would be significant.

And Now, Back to the Match – Charity XI Innings – Ged Reports

Of course, the Charity XI umpire being so generous to unfortunate young ladies was a subtle Charity XI ploy to secure a reasonable score. Bolstered by the umpire and some good players in their middle order, the innings ebbed and flowed as a good 20:20 innings should. We actually play 20:20:20 cricket for this fixture – a successful batsman retires at 20 to ensure that everyone gets a go, with a chance to return at the end of the innings once everyone else has had a chance. Charlene and another Saffer, Big Malc, retired in such circumstances. Ged’s ploy to hold back a fair chunk of the better bowling prevented the better batsmen from scoring too quickly and wickets fell at enough regular intervals to escape that feeling that the innings is getting away from you.

Of course, things might have been even better if fielders stuck to Ged’s game plan. The worst offender was Barmy Kev who simply wouldn’t stay put at fly slip despite the fact that enough action was happening down there to convince him, surely, that this was a worthwhile place to field. On one occasion a catch splintered off towards fly slip, only for Ged to observe a vacancy where the fly slip should have been – Barmy Kev had crept up to gully again surreptitiously. On another occasion, when Kev was doing what he was told (for once), a skier went high up in the air between slip and fly slip, much closer to our (very competent) slip fielder, Martin. Kev lunges in the direction of Martin yelling “mine” and then, just as it looks as though there would be no wicket and two casualty admissions to A&E, Kev bails out of the run, giving no audible warning that “mine” had been switched to “yours”; nevertheless Martin took the catch like a proper cricketer. “Who is that clown?” asked one of the team regulars. “Martin?”, enquired Ged.

110/9 was their final score – very respectable in our terms but distinctly gettable if the Ged Ladd and Co team perform. And 110/9 is almost certainly a very accurate recording of the score. But Charlie”the Gent” Molloy and several of his team mates found it very hard to believe that the scorer, our very own MTWD founder Jez Horne, with a first class degree in maths, could possibly have recorded the score accurately. True, it was a difficult assignment to keep the score in those circumstances, with several members of the Charlie “the Gent” rabble trying to convince Jez all the time that the umpire had just signalled four/six/wide and that Jez had missed the vital signalling moment while looking down to record the events of the ball. But Jez was undeterred and undistracted; he applied all that learning from his maths degree, combined with all those years of following cricket, to complete the scorebook with extreme precision.

Ged Ladd’s Innings – Barmy Kev’s View

Ged read out the batting line out to achieve target. I was wondering what my role was. It was an occasion like at school when playing football and players are against wall and you are last to be picked. When Ged chose 1-10 without me being mentioned, I am sure Ged picked me as 11, after looking out for other latecomers to turn up as my replacement. However, I respected his authoritative “ Kev you’re in at 11!

Ged himself was opening. This would have been clear to any of those present who did not know Ged – indeed to most of Kensington and the surrounding boroughs, with Daisy continually screeching “come on Ged” at the top of her voice. Ged certainly played a sheet anchor (or something sounding a bit like that) role. He successfully was holding his end up and continually nurdling runs, not exhausting himself with any risky running between wickets. With Ged having helped the team put on 45 in the first 7 overs (a great many of which were wides and byes), the South African lady whose stumping had been denied to Ged clean bowled him for a solid 12. I realised that Ged could in fact run straight and fast, as after his dismissal he sprinted to the red wine bottle.

Ged’s Innings – Ged’s View

Ged opened the batting with fellow Middlesex supporting stalwart, Peter Bramley, far and away the best batsman on display that day. An opera company were rehearsing some enormous Wagner monstrosity in the outdoor concert arena nearby. The opening batsmen strolled out to bat to the strains of some heroic Wagnerian overture and for some reason the orchestra decided to strike up whenever Ged was on strike. This noisy stuff seemed a bit distracting at first, but once the innings got under way and Ged got a few runs under his belt and saw Peter and the extras column getting off to a real flier, the heroic music seemed somewhat fitting, nay, almost encouraging.

Of course, you can tell the difference straight away between Tazmanian Devil style sledging and the Old Etonian sledging that Ged received. When Ged said to the wicket-keeper “I’m finding the music rather uplifting”, the reply came “oh dear, I was rather hoping the Wagner was putting you Orff”. Taz would probably have said “you’re such a cr*p batsman the DJ’s celebrating your wicket falling already, you stupid b*st*rd, anyway you could get a whole f*cking orchestra between your bat and your front pad when you try to play a shot”. But mercifully, Taz was on our side and when Peter retired on 20*, Taz joined Ged and merely said, “hey, you’re going really well today mate, keep going”. But soon Taz was also on his way, going for glory too early in his innings and skying one to the only member of the opposition team (Big Malc) who stood a cat-in-hell’s chance of catching that ball.

Ged was then joined by Alex DeLarge, who needed to bat early in the innings so he could go off and be a new dad as quickly as possible. Alex is a regular in the team who sometimes comes off (leave it to him) or sometimes doesn’t (better stick around and anchor). Alex was having an “on” day and got off to a good start with a couple of good 2s and then he struck a really good 4 with ultraviolence. Ged knew that he might as well get on with it now and that retirement loomed soon if he could get a couple of big hits away himself. That is usually a recipe for disaster, Ged-wise, normally in the form of lobbing an easy catch to someone. But Charlene is a better bowler than that, had seen the gap between Ged’s front pad and the bat, and subtly switched tack to off-cutters. It only took two of those to dislodge Ged.

Oh No, Surely We Can’t Lose It From Here – Kev’s View

An all too familiar Middlesex like collapse started to occur. At this stage I was beginning to enjoy the social side of occasion and still thought we were meandering to victory. Then with 7 wickets came a shout from Ged “ Kev get your pads on”. Our no. 8 was a female who didn’t look like could hold a bat and I was frantically trying to get pads on, done in my usual ungainly manner hoping a hat trick was not going to happen. There were enough overs left but wickets were problem. Everyone was crowding the bat around our female who was struggling to get bat to ball. We thought we might have to rely on umpires again developing selective myopia.

Don’t be Daft – Ged Never Doubted Us For A Moment – Ged’s View

The middle order left a little to be desired, once Alex DeLarge was removed, although by that time we’d got within 15 to 20 of the target and still had plenty of overs to go. Also, EK was still there, although he was uncharacteristically going for 1s and 2s, perhaps awaiting the arrival of FK at the crease. At 7 down, it was time for FK to have a go. She has played once or twice before and is a generally sporty young woman, but Charlie “the Gent”‘s team spelt blood and strangely, their umpire seemed to have forgotten about the “no-one gets out first ball” rule when one of our other stalwarts got cleaned up for a primary.

So there you have it – about 12 runs still required, 4 or 5 overs to go so runs is not the problem, a couple of rabbits in the hutch plus one returnee. But most importantly, you have a newly-wed couple at the crease, hoping to get the team over the line. Charlie’s team are trying to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, giving no quarter, EK was offering a great deal of assistance, one might say instruction, to his bride, FK. The odd single here or there. Then, FK plays the shot of the day. After the match, she claimed that she didn’t see the ball properly at first and just went after it once she got sight of it. Ged describes it as a perfectly executed late cut for four – one of the hardest and most elegant shots in the game. The Ged Ladd & Co supporters are in ecstasies and the target is down to very few indeed. Soon, the scores are tied and EK is on strike. He goes for glory – trying to wrap up the match with a big six into the crowd – and guess what? – he pulls it off and the game is won. The honeymoon couple at the crease together winning the match for their team. You couldn’t have made up the ending without seeming like the cheesiest writer since Barbara Cartland died.

Barmy Kev Summarises

Ged seemed mightily pleased with win and I felt his tension on what was a surprisingly competitive match. However, in true spirit of occasion, all parties were friends afterwards and enjoyed some more beers/wine.

It was a really fun afternoon despite my lack of contribution and receiving a few ticking offs. Mrs Barmy was there with a few other WAGS and we were made to feel very welcome. If invited next year I would certainly return and will be working on various aspects of my game, like listening to captain’s orders.

Z/Yen v The Children’s Society Cricket Match, Holland Park, 26 June 2007

This was one of the more memorable cricket matches between Z/Yen and The Children’s Society, not least because it was one of the very few that Z/Yen won.

Also memorable because we have a lot of artefacts from the match:

a wonderful stick of photographs taken on my camera – click here or the picture above. I’d love to credit the photographer(s) but no-one so far has been able to recall who actually took the pictures. I think Janie (Daisy) might be the culprit, as for sure she was there but isn’t in any of the pictures. With confession will come redemption, credit and possibly yet more good things. Janie should probably get a medal anyway for turning up at one of our silly cricket matches on her birthday;
the scorebook pages – scans shown at the end of this piece;
a ludicrously long match report, authored by me and Barmy Kev jointly – click here – published as a three-parter on Middlesex Till We Die (MTWD) over the winter of 2007/2008 when desperate for feature material. It is one of the MTWD “lost masterpieces”; as explained more fully in the posting linked here – Sportnetwork managed to lose all the features that were published on all of its web sites during a period around that time. That three-parter is for connoisseurs, not for normal people;
a sensibly short piece from the Now and Z/Yen blog, replicated in its entirety below.

Z/Yen gets even hotter at games

If Ian Harris can claim that even one good thing has ever come out of Z/Yen’s annual cricket match, (an event which boasted it’s 10th anniversary this year), it must be the resulting courtship and recent marriage of our Fran Birch with Eugene Kinghorn. Three years ago, Eugene played for The Children’s Society while Fran played for Z/Yen. One thing led to another after the (cricket) match and those two were matched (married) a few weeks ago.

This year we returned to the scene of the crime, Holland Park, with Eugene of course now playing in Z/Yen colours (qualified by marriage, cricket was always thus).

Suffice it to say that Z/Yen won the fixture this year, with several Z/Yen people exceeding all expectations (even Ian, I kid you not). But you couldn’t have written the script for the ending – Eugene and Fran batting together, knocking off the winning runs.

Here is a link to the famous 2004 match, with its multiple-sense-of-the-word-match stories.

Scene of the crime seems like a suitable phrase for this match; Charles Bartlett being eyed with suspicion by the local constabulary:

I recall taking wickets (ripping my fingers to shreds trying to spin the new ball)…

…and scoring some runs opening the batting with Peter Cox…

Bartlett to Cox…sounds like apples and pears to me!

…which sent the crowd into an absolute frenzy…

…OK – in truth I think the frenzy was more likely to have been when Eugene and Fran were knocking off the winning runs and earning “match of the match” awards.

And here is the scorecard in full for true connoisseurs:

Tufty Stackpole v The Children’s Society, North Crawley CC, “Match Report”, 30 July 2006

With thanks to Charles Bartlett for the picture.

Brace yourself for a long one, dear reader.

The following report, on the 2006 match between Tufty Stackpole and The Children’s Society, played at the Tufties home ground, North Crawley CC, runs to over 3,500 words.

But this report is Charles Bartlett’s favourite, so it must have something going for it. I suspect that Charles’s pseudonym, Charley “The Gent” Malloy, which I started using the following season, was born in the first paragraph of this report.

Match report by Angus Martin-Blofeld

Changes at the top

No-one knows precisely why the captaincy of The Children’s Society team changed hands before the match. Some say that Tufty Stackpole insisted upon the change, as they were desperately keen to pitch their skills against a side that was to be captained incisively. Others suggest that it was merely a generous gesture on the part of Charles Bartlett to allow Ian Harris a once-in-a-lifetime chance at captaining a big match. The most plausible rumour, however, is that a major Buckinghamshire betting syndicate preferred the match price based on Ian Harris’s captaincy, so Mr Bartlett was tapped on the shoulder and politely told, “this ain’t your day, Chucky, we’re going for the short-end money on Harris”. So Harris got a shot at the big match and Chucky got a one-way ticket to Palookaville.

The morning before the night after the morning after the night before

Preparations on The Children’s Society side were going badly. Heinrich had already pulled out of the squad a few days before the match with an unspecified squash injury. He was to be replaced by Andrew Britten-Kelly (ABK), brother of Richard Britten-Kelly (RBK). (Presumably the younger of these two might be known as “Little” Britten-Kelly). Problem is, Heinrich can bowl whereas ABK (with all due respect) can bowl the odd straight ball but then shows distinctly Harrisesque bowling qualities.

Then, at the 59^th minute of the 11^th hour (OK, it was 10.00 p.m. the night before the match), Kyle, the team’s off-spinner, sent Harish a text message to say that he’s been had up for being drunk and disorderly and will be spending the next 24 hours in the cells rather than at the match.

[Editor’s note: the precise nature of Kyle’s excuse is lost in the mists of time. Some say there was mention of injury rather than imprisonment. We find the young offender angle more in keeping with The Children’s Society aims and values, so choose to embellish the tale in that direction]

Cometh the hour, cometh the man. Harish was immediately on the blower to RBK. Harish remains cool, calm and collected at a time of crisis like this. “Richard, you’ve got to do something. Kyle’s pulled out so we’re another bowler short. Ian will kill us. Charles will kill us. The Tufty’s will slaughter us. Help! Help!!”

RBK also remained cool, calm and collected. “Don’t panic! Don’t panic!” he screamed, while running around the room.

[Editor’s note: running around the room in a panic, while on the telephone, is a much safer activity than it used to be. In the old days, the telephone cable would get twisted around the panic-monger’s leg, often bringing the poor wretch to the ground and causing an additional injury scare for the team. These cordless phones are much better for pre-cricket-match panicking purposes].

“You must know somebody who’ll play at short notice”, screamed Harish, “you are South African after all”.

RBK thought deeply for a moment, while removing shattered bits of telephone from the wall, and from his left hand, and from ABK’s right hand.

[Editor’s note: Yup, that’s the one disadvantage of these cordless phone beasties, of course; untrammelled panicking is halted only on impact with walls and other people].

“The only person I know who is crazy enough to drop everything at such short notice is ‘Big Bad Simon’ who is as tall as Charles Nall and Will Jefferson, bowls wicked fast and doesn’t take prisoners”, said RBK.

“We’re desperate, Richard, we’ll take him”, said Harish.

Thus, the side had a full complement of eleven, but with far more pace in the attack than originally envisaged.

A tale of two captains

For several days before the match, Trevor Stapleton and Ian Harris were fine-tuning their personal preparations for the match.

Trevor Stapleton wanted the complete 2006 left-arm orthodox spinner look. He sallied forth to the “Sikh and You Shall Find” clothing emporium in Luton and was delighted to find a black sports turban, or patka, endorsed by Monty Panesar, in the style of the great man’s very own headgear. Trevor wanted to sport “a full Monty”, i.e. the beard to go with it, but was politely informed that the emporium does not stock the false strange; it is the Sikh tradition to grow your own.

Meanwhile, Ian Harris, fresh from reading “The Art of Captaincy” by Mike Brearley, also aspired to a strange. Brearley’s Ayatollah look had coincided with a particularly successful run as captain. Sadly, Ian left this strange decision a little late, so he turned up on the day of the match looking more Bob Geldof then Ayatollah in the facial hair department.

Coincidentally, Ian Harris also chose to sport some exotic headwear; a brightly-coloured Guatemalan bandanna of the Ramneresh Sarwan variety.

Captains have a lot of sartorial matters to think about ahead of a big match; it’s not all strategy, logistics and press conferences you know.

A massive erection

For many weeks before the big match, the sound of bulldozers and construction workers could be heard across the verdant fields in the normally quiet village of North Crawley. (Not another extension to Stapleton Manor, surely).

Without so much as a planning application or even a quiet “do you mind?” chat with the neighbours, the village cricket club had decided to erect a new stand in honour of their visitors. No pleas, no injunctions and no threats with big dogs were going to dissuade the Tufty craftsmen from their task.

The night before the match was a particular low point in the construction schedule. The new stand absolutely had to be ready for the big event the next day. Frankly, it wasn’t ready. In fact, work on the stand was still at a relatively early stage. In truth, it had not started.

Geoff Young, a handy fellow if ever there was one, took hold of the situation. Making expert use of existing materials readily to hand, some ply wood and some paint, Geoff rode roughshod over health and safety considerations and produced a massive erection emblazoned with the legend “The Ian Harris Stand”. Geoff figured that the visitors would be so impressed by the quality signage, they might not notice that there wasn’t much of a stand to speak of. Geoff, as is so often the case, was right.

Arrival of the TCS troops

Under the incisive captaincy of Ian Harris, The Children’s Society team arrived well ahead of the match start time for warm-ups, team strategy sessions, nets, throw-downs, throw-ups and all that sort of thing. Last to arrive was the “Britten-Kelly Gang”, with their last-minute signing “Big Bad Simon”.

“Hoezit”, said Big Bad Simon.

“Not out”, said Ian.

“Sis”, said Simon, looking none too happy.

“Simon’s just trying to be friendly”, said RBK, “hoezit means hello in Afrikaans”.

Remembering everything he’d learned from The Art of Captaincy, Ian Harris decided he needed to engage directly with this fellow to get the most out of him. Ian got out a step ladder, climbed to the top and addressed Big Bad Simon face to face. “I’d like to have a quick look at you in the nets”, said Ian.

Big Bad Simon bit the head off a chicken, kicked a passing poodle and replied, “eish”.

“It’s OK, he’ll do it”, said RBK, helpfully.

So off they all went to the nets. No-one is sure whether Ian Harris even saw either of the balls that smacked him on the upper thigh, but Janie certainly saw the bruises the next day.

“Lekker” said Big Bad Simon each time he hit the body. That means “nice”. Ian Harris made careful notes of these one and two syllable words that might make all the difference in motivating his player. Ever box free, Charles Bartlett made his excuses and left the nets pretty quickly. Ian suggested that his bowlers shouldn’t tire themselves out needlessly in the nets.

Enter the Tufties

Meanwhile several Tufties arrived at the stadium. Handshakes all round. Not for the Tufties the early arrival and endeavours in the nets. Not for the Tufties the lengthy look at the wicket and the fierce debate over whether to bowl or bat if the toss was won. Supremely confident in their own surroundings, the Tufty Stackpole team assembled effortlessly, almost imperceptibly.

Glenn Young was baited by Charles for agreeing to play with a broken finger some days ahead of his doctor’s orders. Trevor Cooper tried to unnerve the Children’s Society players by talking up the Tufty Stackpole team. Geoff Young explained that the sound system had been delayed in traffic, so that the match would have to begin without music. Charles Bartlett looked on the verge of tears at this news.

The toss

Trevor Stapleton and Ian Harris, in their respective headgear, strode out to the middle for the toss and to agree playing conditions. Incisively, Ian called tails and indeed it was tails. The Children’s Society would bat first, for the first time in the history of this great fixture.

A cheer went up from the Children’s Society ranks. There were plans to carry Ian aloft, shoulder high, in honour of his first and massive achievement as captain. But wait! The Tufty team dissuaded the Children’s Society masses from making that gesture. There was a far more important gesture planned.

Trevor Stapleton gathered all around and made a speech of warm welcome to The Children’s Society, unveiling the Ian Harris Stand. Ian responded with heartfelt thanks. Charles Bartlett muttered about the absence of a Charles Bartlett stand. He also muttered that he didn’t want to go out to bat without the stentorian strains of Jerusalem ringing in his ears, but the sound system was still some miles away.

The Tufty team took these vocal matters into their own hands. Tufty Stackpole formed a guard of honour for the opening batsmen, Charles Bartlett and Ian Harris. Those two veterans of so many matches past, strode out to bat through that guard of honour, who were belting Jerusalem at the tops of their voices while shaking hands with the incoming batsmen. What an emotional moment.

The Children’s Society Innings

The Children’s Society innings started at a furious lick. Tufty Stackpole chose to open the bowling with Geoff “Murali” Young. Although a so-called off-spinner, Geoff has four additional variations; the doosra, the straightonna, the quicker ball and the one that always somehow gets Ian Harris even if it is a pie.

Ian Harris, as usual, started to nudge and nurdle to get the scoreboard ticking and rotate the strike. More importantly, during that first over, Charles Bartlett hit a sumptuous straight drive through mid off for four off Geoff’s bowling. Remembering everything he’d read in The Art of Captaincy, Ian knew that now was the time to motivate the batsman.

“Blimey, Charles, I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Nor did I,” simpered Charles, choking back the emotions.

Another quick single by Harris off Nick Cooper got Charles Bartlett back onto strike. Then, disaster. Charles maintains that the ball nipped back ferociously off the seam. Some wise heads maintain that such a delivery must have been a no-ball, cruelly missed by the umpire. But those close to the action (other than Charles) submit that Charles played the Piccadilly while the ball went straight down the Bakerloo and that was the end of him.

That heralded the arrival of Mat Watson, The Children’s Society wicket-keeper and thorn in the side of Tufty Stackpole in several conflicts past.

Soon after that, Ian Harris tried to heave a Geoff Young pie into Bedfordshire. The fizzing off-break cruelly took a bit of bat, a bit of pad and a bit of the wicket on its path. Wise heads maintain that such a delivery must have been a no-ball, cruelly missed by the umpire. Suddenly the sound system was up and running. Always Look On the Bright Side of Life. Very droll.

Enter Harish, promoted up the order; more incisive captaincy by Ian Harris. Harish and Mat batted beautifully together, maintaining the momentum set by the brave openers at 5+ an over. The rate never fell below 4.5 and was 5+ for almost the whole innings.

The sound system did its worst, especially once Ian Harris added an iPod full of sounds to the substantial collection of Matt and Kerry, that outstanding DJ pairing of fixtures passim. While Mat (the Bat, not to be confused with Matt the DJ) and Harish scored their runs, the DJs played Heatwave, Viva Las Vegas and Dreadlock Holiday. The crowd, well, Janie and Ian anyway, danced themselves dizzy. The afternoon was suspended in that glorious haze that only a brilliant cricket match can conjure.

Eventually Harish fell to a good one. Laurel and Hardy. Very droll. But that only brought Marko to the crease and the momentum continued to build. Wickets fell at fairly regular intervals, but everyone from The Children’s Society chipped in and the momentum rarely faltered.

Nick Cooper was the most economical bowler – 2/33 off his full 8. Trevor Stapleton threatened to keep the runs in check, but a couple of his overs went south – 1/49. The surprise bowling package was star batsman Nick Church, who was pricey but effective – 3/41.

Mat, as is becoming his habit, anchored the innings, 66 runs off 104 balls. Marko Bekker scored a quickfire 45 (lekker, Bekker) and Rob Morley the Aussie bowler with a very useful “40”, although even Rob admits that the scorer probably gave him a few of ABK’s runs. Malcolm from the helpdesk, a genuine all-rounder, chipped in with a quick and useful 20-something. Even Big Bad Simon, batting at number 11, hit the last ball of the innings back over the bowler’s head for 6. 258/9 off 40 overs.

Mid innings pondering and fuelling

While substantial, indeed a record score for the fixture, everyone remembered that the previous year’s match had been a tie: 254 playing 254. 258 was very much “of that order”; it should be enough, but at the same time it could quite conceivably be surmounted. What a fixture. Three innings and only 4 runs between those scores.

Some chowed down. Some ate with restraint. Some were so excited at the prospect of the next innings they couldn’t possibly digest food.

[Editor’s note: the author admits that he didn’t actually meet anyone who was so excited they couldn’t eat. But the sentence does give the appropriate dramatic build to the report, so it has to stay]

Ian Harris consulted with his bowlers and his vice-captain, Charles Bartlett, to plot the defence of their total. Not one cream cake passed the captain’s lips, he was so busy planning and consulting. Such commitment.

Trevor Stapleton, meanwhile, made some serious headway into a hearty tea and advised his players to do their best. What a trooper.

The Tufty Stackpole Innings

They say that captaincy is 90% luck and 10% skill, just don’t try it without the 10% skill. Well, Ian Harris certainly used up his ration of luck on this match. Soon after Trevor Cooper fell early to a good ball from Malcolm, that same Malcolm was lurking down at long leg while Adam Hinks bowled to Colin. A relative whippet, Colin calls Mike Archer for a second never thinking that Malcolm might attempt the bowler’s end with his throw. “Bowler,” screams Malcolm and throws to the bowler’s end in the hope that Adam can gather the ball and run the man out. But Adam wasn’t needed. A direct hit at a vast distance saw Mike Archer go in most unfortunate circumstances.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, soon after, Glenn Young, early in his innings, hits a ball hard to mid off – where Adam Hinks wears it on the body and takes the catch. A yard either side and it would have been four. Had Ian Harris (mid off to the right-hander) and Adam swapped over for the left-handed Glenn, that probably would also have been four, carrying Ian over the rope with the ball, all the way from mid off.

On such small matters can victory and defeat hinge. But in any case The Children’s Society were bowling a consistent and pacey line and length. Adam’s first spell from the Bowling Green End had not been quite his best, but Malcolm’s first from the Bungalow End applied pressure and Big Bad Simon seemed well equipped to cope at the Bowling Green End. Rob Morley was no relief at the Bungalow End; although he went wicketless he was in many ways the pick of the bowlers 0/30 off 8.

Over 15 seemed the right time for a change of pace and The Children’s Society sought another breakthrough. Although the run rate seemed under control and the Tufties were 3 down, everyone knew from past experience how quickly such a match can get away from you. That wicked-fast outfield and the short boundary on the Ian Harris Stand side of the ground. Also, those Tufties bat all the way down and have previous in holding back some surprise hitters into the late order to bamboozle their opponents.

Enter The Children’s Society’s partnership breaker, Charles Bartlett, from the Bowling Green End. As if to order, a simple catch is spooned to mid off where RBK, possibly still picking broken bits of telephone out of his hand, drops a sitter. “Can’t you get your fielders to blooming well catch?” yelled Bartlett. “No I can’t”, replied the captain, “I can put them in the right positions but I can’t make them catch”. Charles Bartlett took some tonk for the rest of the over, which turned out to be a one-over spell.

When Charles Bartlett returned from the Bungalow End, another simple catch went begging, this time ABK (also probably down to the freak telephone/hand injury). “What is it with those Britten-Kelly’s?” said Charles, somewhat uncharitably for the former captain of a charity team.

Meanwhile the asking rate kept creeping up and the wickets were falling at fairly regular intervals. Nick Church top scored with 38 but rarely looked completely comfortable and offered more than one chance before he fell. Harish managed one of those juggling drops where you feel that the fielder had three or more chances to catch it but still didn’t make it. Ian Harris knows all about those and made incisive but sympathetic noises when these rare aberrations occurred.

Eventually, Nick Church hit one very straight but also very high. Marko and Malcolm converged (incisive captaincy that, best fielders at long off and long on at that stage of the match – youngsters reading this report in search of instruction should note). Was there to be a dreadful accident? “Mine” yelled Marko in a masterful voice at which point no-one (apart from Marko) believed for one moment that the catch might be dropped. In any case it wasn’t and Nick was gone for 38.

Trevor Stapleton provided an anchor role and hit some lusty blows for his 33, before falling to a deceptively straight delivery that he fancied sending into the bungalows and probably would have done had he hit it.

Several others chipped in with some good shots and cameo innings, but with 15 overs to go and more than 10 an over required, that wasn’t going to be enough. Adam Hinks returned, this time from the Bungalow End, and bowled a superb second spell at the death, returning 2/31 off his full 8.

The Children’s Society pleaded with the late order batsmen to sacrifice their wickets or retire so that Geoff Young could get a bit of a bat at the end of the match, but the Tufties would not oblige and Geoff was shouting coded instructions from the sidelines, such as “stay out there. I don’t want to bat” and that sort of thing. 188/8 off 40 was the final score.

And so to the pub

The awards ceremony and raffle was held in the pub, as is the tradition of the fixture. Firstly, there was a grand cake to be cut by the highest scoring batsman of the day. Mat was about to leap out of his chair and start cutting cake as effectively as he had cut the short delivery a few hours earlier, but Masters of Ceremonies Stapleton and Archer soon intervened. Relying on an ancient playing condition from the village annals of 1737 (which looked suspiciously like a dusty old ledger from the back of the pub), 7 runs per year were to be added to the score of any visiting player over the age of 50. That made Charles Bartlett the cake-cutter and thus he cut the cake.

Then those Masters of Ceremonies tried to turn defeat into victory by relying on the same strange playing condition, adding 3 runs per year to the home score for each home player over 50. Remembering everything he had learnt from the Art of Captaincy about respecting the strange traditions of far-flung places when playing away, Ian Harris diplomatically responded that these playing conditions sounded perfectly reasonable and had they been agreed upon before the match would naturally have been applied. However, that not being the case, the conventional score should stand. This was agreed unanimously.

In interview afterwards, Ian Harris informed this reporter that he had a further finesse up his sleeve, the even lesser known Edward Rudolf playing condition in which both teams score gains 10 runs for each left-hander inflicted on them by the opposition team. The Children’s Society out of politeness has always withheld from using this playing condition.

Ian Harris further pointed out that the Tufty Stackpole playing condition of 1737 can only remain effective until October 2006, when the new Age Discrimination legislation comes into full force. Mercifully, therefore, this particular debate could not legitimately occur next year.

With the outcome resolved, The Children’s Society accepted their trophy and the match awards were duly made. Nick Church and Adam Hinks won sets of Owzat dice as Man of the Match for each team. Mat Watson and Trevor Stapleton received match balls for their superb efforts.

The raffle was drawn, beer and cake flowed long into the night and a very good time was had by all.

Most importantly, the raffle raised more money than ever and Tufty Stakepole even managed to stiff Ian Harris for £50 a year ground rent (to The Children’s Society of course) for the Ian Harris Stand!

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.

Match Of The Day & Play Of The Day, Z/Yen v The Children’s Society, Holland Park, 22 June 2004

By 2004, the Z/Yen v The Children’s Society cricket match had become a well-established fixture in the social calendar.

In the few years preceding this 2004 match, we had settled on Regents Park as the venue of choice, but Regents Park was unavailable that year, so we thought we’d try Holland Park’s non-turf pitch for a convenient change.

Two extraordinary things happened on this day in 2004. The handful of relics remaining of the event leave only tiny clues about those things, but in this Ogblog I shall deploy my forensic skills and reveal those memorable happenings.

Here is a link to the Now and Z/Yen write up of this match, which reads thus:

Longer than the Longest Thing

The annual Z/Yen versus The Children’s Society cricket match was held in Holland Park around the longest day, 22 June. And it must have seemed like a long evening to the largest ever crowd of friends and spectators, huddling under the trees in the cool drizzle. Perhaps it was the bottles and pin of superb beer sponsored by Youngs brewery (via George, Giles Wright’s brother) that kept the crowd motivated and audible throughout.

Z/Yen batted first and accumulated 91 for 4. More or less everyone got a bat with several players, even Ian Harris, retiring not out. Restricting things to 15 overs per side saved the game from the impending rain, as well as the use of some handy Astroturf. Z/Yen bowled well – John Davies (Helen’s husband) getting man-of-the-match for his efforts – restricting The Children’s Society to 73 for 6, despite some late heroics by Harish Gohil and Richard Britain-Kelly. So for only the second time ever, Z/Yen has regained the Rashes (risk/reward ashes) trophy.

In a desperate attempt to rebuild the devastated relations with this important client, Ian Harris helped The Children’s Society to win (for the first time ever) its annual Tufty Stackpole match a few weeks later. Ian’s help was mostly vicarious of course (p-lease), lending The Children’s Society Z/Yen’s star ringer Mat for the 45 overs-a-side Sunday marathon.

Yes, the original write up records one of the key features of these quintessentially beer-match-style cricket matches. Giles Wright’s brother George being an essential ringer for our Z/Yen team, not least because he was the head of marketing at Youngs Brewery and would insist on donating lashings of beer for the event. No wonder we started to draw sizeable crowds during that era.

I also have the scorebook for this match:

Play Of The Day

The casual reader glancing at the above relics would not settle upon the name James Pitcher and imagine that the play of the day might have anything to do with him. Did not bat. Did not bowl.

James was a reluctant member of the team. That’s not to say that he was an unwilling participant in events, far from it. But James was convinced that everyone else in the team deserved their place in cricketing terms more than he did. So when time was running out and I offered him my place in the batting line up, James deferred. He also stated firmly that he could not and should not bowl.

Importantly, James also implied that he couldn’t really field that well either, but he could run, so we agreed that the outfield would be best for him.

When my friend/nemesis Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett came out to join Eugene Kinghorn at the crease, the match was still well poised, but the Children’s Society knew they needed to get on with it; they were falling behind the required run rate.

Charles drove his first scoring shot (it might even have been his very first ball, you know) extremely well, straight down to long on, quite near to the location where James was peacefully grazing in the long grass.

Eugene, gazelle-like compared with most of us, set off at Charles’s call of two and I’m pretty sure again yelled “yes, one more” on the turn, as he would be running to the danger (non-striker’s) end.

But James didn’t throw to the non-striker’s end. Why would he? How could he? James, the non-cricketer, simply ran as fast as he could, picked up the ball and hurled it (he’s not named Pitcher for nothing) vaguely in the direction of the action.

Had James thrown to the non-striker’s end, Eugene would have been home easily even if James had hit those stumps directly.

Instead, James’s throw somehow managed to hurtle an additional 22 yards past the non-striker’s stumps and directly hit the stumps at the striker’s end, with Charley still running a few yards short of the line. Run out.

It was an incredibly long throw for a direct hit. As James has subsequently agreed, we could set him that throw as a deliberate exercise and he might hit the stumps one time in a couple of hundred attempts.

I am reliably informed that Chas still has nightmares about this dismissal.

Pitcher by name… (this photo from the 2007 match)

Match Of The Day

But even that incredible dismissal was not the most extraordinary thing to occur that evening. In fact, both the score book and contemporaneous match reports are silent on the momentous occurrence.

I mentioned earlier Eugene Kinghorn as Charley’s batting partner during the unfortunate run out incident…the run out described above in some detail…the one that Charley still has nightmares about…

…anyway, Eugene formed another partnership that evening…

…with Fran Birch, one of the Z/Yen players.

By the time we all returned to “the scene of the crime” – three years later we again needed to decamp to Holland Park, those two had got married, Eugene was no longer working for The Children’s Society and he thus ended up playing for Z/Yen.

These are the lengths some Z/Yen folk are prepared to go to in order to strengthen the Z/Yen cricket team.

Joking apart, I really do believe that Eugene and Fran’s initial meeting at one of our silly cricket matches is one of the very most wonderful things to have come out of all of those events.

The 2007 match is Ogblogged here and below:

Z/Yen v The Children’s Society Cricket Match, Holland Park, 26 June 2007

Linda gives Fran and Eugene the “match of the match” award, Holland Park, 2007

As luck (and a little bit of tactical captaincy on my part) would have it, Eugene and Fran even ended up partnering each other at the crease to knock off the winning runs in the 2007 game. Funny old game, cricket.

The Children’s Society v Z/Yen Cricket Match, Regent’s Park, 28 June 2001

Who is wearing the brighter whites? Chas or Ged?

A memorable match in many ways.

Charles “Charley the Gent Malloy” Bartlett and I had sloped off to the nets a couple of times ahead of this fixture, if I remember correctly. The tuition paid dividends for both of us. We both achieved scores of 20 not out (retired).

But…

…on this one occasion on Regent’s Park, Z/Yen was to prevail.

David Highton, with his reliable medium paced dobble-bowling, took a hat-trick for Z/Yen, ripping the heart out of the Children’s Society batting line up.

Charles kept his pads on, as the “retired not out” batsman was permitted to resume if the innings would otherwise be complete.

On resumption, Chas somehow managed to lob the simplest of catches to me at midwicket.

“Tell anyone about that catch and Tony The Tarantula will pay you a visit. He knows where you live, know what I mean?”

I wrote to Chas early the next day, a long and rather dull e-mail about work stuff, in which I concluded:

Look forward to seeing you Wednesday – oh and I have not yet told [anyone] about the dolly catch.

Chas replied that morning with one of the worst, laugh-out-loud excuses for a dismissal I have ever read:

As I recall I was being verbally abused by some of your close-in fielders – and to my dismay some of my own team on the sidelines!

In an attempt to satisfy everyone (low scoring but wickets tumbling around me!) and finding it almost impossible to get a bat near any ball. Wides, no balls and balls trickling along the ground. I attempted a pull shot to leg, only to be temporarily blinded by a shinning white vision, which turned out to be Ian’s brand new cricket whites!!

That is pretty much as I remember it!!

One vital matter that emerges from this piece of cricket archaeology is proof positive – we might call it silicon dating – that I bought my cricket troos that spring, 2001, confirming that they are significantly older than England cricketer Rehan Ahmed, which was a matter of some conjecture and debate in King Cricket circles when that lad had his debut. Indeed they are older than I suspected when I estimated 2002 or 2003 as the purchase date.

Six things older than Rehan Ahmed

Here are the scorecards from that historic and seminal 2001 match, which Z/Yen won by a smidgeon – 4 runs:

The Children’s Society Cricket Match, Regent’s Park, 24 August 2000

I came across an entry in my diary for 24 August 2000 which had me completely…

…forgive the pun…

stumped.

17:00 Children’s Society, Regent’s Park

I couldn’t remember a thing about this event. It certainly wasn’t a Z/Yen thing.

Following some archaeology on the old e-mails, I ascertained that this was some sort of a match between The Children’s Society and Cable and Wireless; but still nothing came back to my memory.

It was clear from the e-mail trail that both Nigel and Chas had been involved with this match, so I wrote to both of them to see if they had any recollection of this event.

I needn’t have worried – yes they did.

Their replies were so comprehensive…

…and amusing…

…that with a little bit of sub-editing they made a very jolly two-hander for the King Cricket website, which published the piece in January 2018 – click here or below to read the piece.

Charity cricket in Regent’s Park – match report

If by any chance the King Cricket link doesn’t work, I have scraped the piece to here.

To my mind, this is one of the wonderful things about Ogblog – an opportunity to re-engage such memories. Sometimes an event that was not so memorable for me might have been, for some reason, especially memorable for someone else.

Nigel – still shouting from the rooftops about the August 2000 match, perhaps?

Z/Yen & The Children’s Society Tennis Evening In Lammas Park, Ealing, 4 June 1999

Janie, with tennis racket but without step ladder, in Lammas Park, 2020

Following the success of a cricket evening the previous year…

The Very Second Z/Yen Charity Cricket Match – The First With The Children’s Society, 25 August 1998

…we decided to do that again in 1999 (late July), preceded by a tennis evening, which Janie and I organised, through Larry, at our then spiritual home of tennis, Lammas Park.

The Lammas Park “club” in the 1990s was a very informal place, under the auspices of Larry and his gang. Warm-hearted for sure, Larry was absolutely up for it when he heard that this was a charity event, allowing us a brace of courts for the evening and organising a barbeque for £200, according to Janie’s diary. We organised the drinks separately and naturally allowed Larry and his gang to join us in the libations.

Janie’s diary also suggests that we went to see Dick at the sports shop in Ealing, where we bought balls for the tournament and I am pretty sure I purchased the now-famous cricket scorebook on the same occasion, ahead of the July match.

I was pumped, ready for tournament play.

I think we had eight to ten people from Z/Yen and a similar number from The Children’s Society that evening.

I am pretty sure the Mainelli family attended and that Linda and Geoff Cook were there. Teresa almost certainly came along. I think Mike Smith ducked out of this one – he usually did for these events. Other attendees – possibly the Rutlands (Geoffrey and Rupert), possibly The Hightons (David & Elisabeth) who live nearby.

For The Children’s Society, Charles “Charley the Gent Malloy” Bartlett was there for sure; perhaps with Nick as well. I am pretty sure that Harish “Harsha Goble” Gohil was also there; I think I had only met Harish a couple of times before this event. One or two from that IT team who were resistant to cricket were less resistant to the idea of tennis and barbeque. Michael and Jonathan I think.

I especially remember Charles Nall, who was new to The Children’s Society at that time, being there. I remember this, because I told Janie ahead of the event that she would meet the new Finance Director. When Janie asked me ahead of time what he was like, I replied, “very tall”.

On meeting Charles, Janie looked up at him and said:

Gosh, you are tall. I’m going to need a step ladder to look you in the eye and talk with you!

Charles Nall looked down at Janie with a puzzled expression on his face – possibly wondering whether or not he was supposed to be angry at this…then burst out laughing.

In truth I had no recollection of how the tournament went. I remember it more as an opportunity for people to eat, drink and make merry. Perhaps for that reason, it seems that Z/Yen, for once, prevailed in this tournament. How do I know? Because it was headline news in Now & Z/Yen June 1999, that’s how. Click here to read all about it…and more. That edition of Now & Z/Yen doesn’t read like one of mine – it has a Mainelli feel to it, either as author or editor. For those who don’t like to click, an extract below:

“We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills…but never, shall we surrender”

Stirring as this is, apparently Sir Winston was not talking about the fifth Z/Yen versus charities sports match. We fought Barnardo’s on the cricket pitch, twice – and they thrashed us. We fought The Children’s Society in the bowling alleys, twice – and they thrashed us. It was looking like the hills when Z/Yen won The Children’s Society challenge on the tennis courts! At our victory roast, the innocent victims were … forced to … watch us gloat. A good time was had by all the winners, and some of the victims who enjoyed some of our particularly sadistic IT trivia games. Sadly, the cricket season is soon upon us.

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Z/Yen gets even hotter at games

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Longer than the Longest Thing

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