It seems like a long way away at the moment, what with the frigid wind howling around our ears, but despite what the producers of Game of Thrones might tell you, summer is coming. And with it comes the third full season of everyone’s favourite hot pink wearing, Mean Girls quoting, weak-weak social cricket team.
There have been a few changes over the off season, but do not fret, The Plastics remain fully committed to amateurish performances on the pitch and histrionic drama off it. First, but by no means most significantly, we have a new captain. Charlie eventually tired of explaining to grown men exactly what “one in and one out” means and has gracefully retired from the role. This means Matt, as the most enthused, and more importantly, most available, of the squad, now takes on that mantle. The team eagerly await the day when one of the prominent veins in his forehead explodes in apoplexy when a fielder lets a ball go for four through their legs off his bowling, but until that happens, he is frantically thumbing through his copy of “The Art of Captaincy” and realising that the author assumes a level of competency that he is in no way close to possessing. Next up, we have James assuming the role of Digital Secretary, despite his protestations that he ought to be titled “Chief Imagineer”. Building on the fine work Jamie did last year, he is currently attempting to raise the profile of the team by liberal (some may say excessive) use of the boomerang feature on Twitter and more emojis than a man in his twilight years should really be comfortable using. Charlie has made the lateral, or possibly upwards, move to Social Secretary, and is busy relaxing at the prospect of only having to organise a few piss ups and the occasional extreme sports event while also saying “I’m so happy this is the only thing I have to worry about this season”. We hear Matt is hopeful that Charlie’s bread and circuses may distract the membership from the season’s inevitably tragic win/loss ratio by keeping everyone too hungover and/or in fear of their physical safety to notice. Maithri and Robert continue in their respective roles as Fixtures Secretary and Treasurer due to the excellent job they did last season and absolutely not because no one else wanted to perform them. Jerry has been named official vice-captain on the basis that we should probably have someone crashingly posh in a largely ceremonial role, just for the look of the thing. In addition to changes in what may nominally be referred to as the top in our non-hierarchical, democratic team model, we have also managed to swindle some more unwitting souls into committing to turn out for the omnishambles that we call a cricket team on a semi-regular basis, so welcome to; Pete Bishop, the Treasurer’s evil twin and devilish swing bowler; John Papa, lustrously bearded Australian/Greek medium pacer; Dom Gillan, a proper batsman so manly he tries to soften steeplers with his face before pouching them safely; Anthony Mortimer, doughty opener and wicket keeper/first slip on the basis you have to move less and, last but not least, Tom Morgan-Grenville, fast bowling, hard hitting wunderkind who the author senses has yet to work out how best to apply his considerable natural talent. Alas, it’s not all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows on the members front, as we have most carelessly lost two favourites of yesteryear; Niall, who has decided that he has completed cricket after the video of his legendary dismissal has bought him the kind of fame that members of the England Test team could only dream of, and Leo, who has moved to the East Midlands because apparently there are things more important than being given out LBW erroneously by your own team mates every Sunday. Alas, despite these grievous blows, the Plastics train hurtles ever onward, and this season is the time where our burgeoning club needs to take the next step in our development. To that end, we have decided that it is not enough to merely allow teams in London the confidence of victory that our name on their fixture list lends them, and have organised a tour in late August to the West Country, where we hope to bring our distinctive brand of cricket to a new audience, and more importantly, have some proper cream teas and cider with twigs floating in it. A little closer to the time of writing, the team are girding their loins for the now-traditional Intra-Plastics match on the 27th April. After a rocky start in its inaugural year due to a combination of sub-zero temperatures, an inhospitable pitch, and rank incompetence on the part of Team Lynx Africa, it has been determined that everyone had a bloody good time regardless and it’s far funnier to watch the Plastics fail when you aren’t, in fact, playing on the same side as them. This will be the first match of a season that currently closes on the 14th of September with a match every weekend between those two dates, demonstrating amply that everyone likes a graceful loser. This post wouldn’t be complete without a shoutout to our sponsors, Zipjet, who don’t seem to care that we’re not good, and have been incredibly supportive despite the fact we lose the vast majority of our games. While we can’t promise them success, or even basic cricketing skills, on the pitch, they can rest assured that we will be trying our very hardest to at least get them some good photos throughout the year.
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THE TEAMFormed from a collection of players who met on the internet via social cricket at Archbishop's Park, Plastics XI represents the foolhardy members of that group who decided they wanted a bash at proper cricket instead of playing with plastic balls. The team's ability is best described as "weak-weak". Luckily, our social media game is much stronger. Find us on: Archives
October 2021
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