Watching those lifelong dancers of a day
As night closed in, I felt myself alone In a life too much my own, More mortal in my separateness than they– Unless, I thought, I had been called to be Not fly or star But one whose task is joyfully to see How fair the fiats of the caller are. We’ve begun quoting poetry, apparently, so have the above excerpt of Richard Wilbur’s Mayflies to accompany this report on how the Plastics flitted fitfully amongst a swarm of those pesky flies and caused plenty of reflection on what the bloody point could ever have claimed to be. Mayflies’ excessive gestation and short lifespan are an apt metaphor to our performance, comprising a long build-up which belied and belated only the briefest of beatitudes on the most beautiful of grounds in a consummate loss to Egham Roses — who by any other name would be just as lovely an opponent. There really is not too much cricket to report. Having lost the toss — naturally — Matt was asked to get his men to pad up and set a target over forty long overs on a true pitch but under skies whose changeable nature was all the more notable for the 900-year-old Windsor Castle they tried to remove from view. The castle has not yet been around long enough to see Anthony or Charlie play a foolish shot and the ticker to begin with was nice enough, till Charlie misjudged some late swing from Egham’s nippy opening bowler. This did at least bring in Pete B and the former-bowler-turned-number-3-extraordinaire played with class and elegance for 36 before being run out due to, by his own admission, recklessly “ambling” what should have been an easy second run. Pretty much everything else about the batting performance was dreadful or odd. Alex died by the sword; Mark was out stumped (and stumped as to how he was out) having misjudged a leg side tickle and fallen over just as the keeper’s pads rebuked the ball onto the stumps; Peter was bowled while Mark sulked so the latter (your author) can’t report what happened; Joey was inevitably caught trying to play sensibly. Matt treated us to a dive in a typically energetic not-out five. Blushes were at least somewhat spared by ringer Mike’s counter-attacking 33 batting at 8 with some lusty blows taking advantage of a quick outfield before losing out to a truly astonishing catch at cover (one-handed dive taking the sting out and then some sort of contortion to allow the other hand to gather in the ball inches from the floor). 109 runs were ultimately mustered - 18 of them extras and 69 coming from Pete and Mike, which leaves a pitiful amount from the other nine of us in what has to rank amongst the Plastics’ worst batting performances given the talent available. Egham knocked off the runs with no great trouble, losing only one wicket in the process. This despite some really very good bowling from the pacemen and Joey, and terrific sharpness and willing all over the field. Indeed, while the Roses’ batsmen maybe weren’t particularly troubled by anything but the sternest tests from a strong bowling unit, we comforted ourselves by concluding it didn’t feel like they had many gears to switch up to in the c. 20 overs it took and so had this been a T20 (or had we not given such a poor account of ourselves with the bat), a genuinely balanced game could have been in the offing. After tea the Plastics and Roses inaugurated The Hundred, which can happily be confirmed a stupid format because 10-ball overs are really tiring. This reversed-order beer game was played in wonderful spirit with some interesting chat from the sidelines courtesy of long-suffering spectators/Egham’s middle order. Abridged highlights: Anthony took two wickets and is now convinced he’s an allrounder; Matt managed a superb one-handed catch while keeping, having shifted his weight for a leg-side delivery that was somehow scooped towards first slip, and remains convinced he’s the best fielder in social cricket; Pete managed to get run out again (three innings in a row over two weeks); Joey and Mike hit some crunching sixes; our lower order is well capable of slapping the remaining lacquer off an old ball. Somewhat unbelievably, the game was tied, each side managing exactly the same score of maybe 128 (I haven’t got the scorecards). Two things are for certain. 1: we can play a whole lot better than this. 2: Egham is a team full of lovely blokes (and plus-ones/pavilion helper-outers) who enjoy the game the right way. We hope to return next year and might be able to manage more than five runs each.
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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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