- The Twenty Minuters vs White Ligtning
- South Park
- 19th August 2006
- Toss: White Ligtning
- Result: Lost by 4 wickets
- Man of the Match: H Lloyd-Baker
| The Twenty Minuters innings | |||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| L Willis+ | c Cox | b Plummer | 10 | ||
| H Lloyd-Baker | bowled | b Daniell | 40 | ||
| J Greayer | run out | 29 | |||
| H Nicholas | c Godson | b Gibbon | 0 | ||
| C Stevens | bowled | b Gibbon | 9 | ||
| A Stevens | bowled | b Daniell | 14 | ||
| J Elwes | c Nicholson | b Plummer | 25 | ||
| R T C Groom* | bowled | b Godson | 1 | ||
| P Cannon | c Smythe | b Godson | 18 | ||
| J Nethercot | bowled | b Smythe | 0 | ||
| R Irens | not out | 2 | |||
| (148) | |||||
| Extras | (w 16, nb 3, b 11) | 30 | |||
| Total (all out after 39.4 overs) | 178 | ||||
| FoW: 1-14, 2-94, 3-95, 4-109, 5-115, 6-139, 7-147, 8-169, 9-175, 10-178 | |||||
| Bowling | O | M | R | W | Econ. |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Plummer | 8 | 0 | 30 | 2 | 3.75 |
| Smythe | 7.4 | 0 | 22 | 1 | 2.87 |
| Clarke | 6 | 0 | 20 | 0 | 3.33 |
| Godson | 6 | 1 | 47 | 2 | 7.83 |
| Gibbon | 7 | 0 | 28 | 2 | 4.00 |
| Daniell | 5 | 0 | 20 | 2 | 4.00 |
| White Ligtning | |||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Cox | c A Stevens | b Nicholas | 71 | ||
| Todman | bowled | b C Stevens | 3 | ||
| McGarry | c & b | b C Stevens | 1 | ||
| Plummer | c Willis | b Cannon | 35 | ||
| Beck | c C Stevens | b Elwes | 32 | ||
| Nicholson | c Lloyd-Baker | b Nicholas | 0 | ||
| Smythe | not out | 15 | |||
| Gibbon | not out | 5 | |||
| (162) | |||||
| Extras | (w 7, nb 4, lb 1, b 5) | 17 | |||
| Total (for 6, after 39.4 overs) | 179 | ||||
| FoW: 1-15, 2-37, 3-97, 4-138, 5-138, 6-164 | |||||
| Bowling | O | M | R | W | econ. |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Elwes | 7 | 0 | 46 | 1 | 6.57 |
| C Stevens | 8 | 1 | 49 | 2 | 6.13 |
| Cannon | 9 | 1 | 31 | 1 | 3.44 |
| Nicholas | 8 | 1 | 31 | 2 | 3.88 |
| Willis | 3.4 | 0 | 14 | 0 | 3.81 |
Match Summary
Forthcoming...
The View from Fine Leg
One thing I never got about Pandora, she of box-opening infamy, (why hasn't someone come out with a line of tin-openers branded Pandora?) is the tiny little caveat at the end, that once all the horrors of the world had escaped from the box, one remained inside. Hope. Now, since it was found in the box are we supposed to think that hope forms part of the horrors of the world? Or is it there to help us deal with them once they'd escaped, like a sort of antivenom? And why was it still in the bottom of the box? Are we supposed to think that Pandora then ushered it out, using the logic: "Well, I've let all the others out, so you might as well join them..."
Such were the thoughts that swilled about my head, like the flies around the dog poo by my foot, as I stood at fine leg, watching Barney steam in to bowl. Hope, you see, can be just as much a hindrance as a help. On the whole it's considered a good thing, giving us strength and optimism when all is dark. But you see, hope has another side, an evil underbelly, so to speak. (Can you have an overbelly? You can have a belly, and an underbelly, why not an overbelly? Would it be the overhang on a fat man that conceals whether or not he's wearing a belt?) Anyway, hope's evil underbelly is known as disillusionment. And the trouble is that once Hope has delivered, even if it never does again, it will always reveal its underbelly.
If you've ever had the misfortune of being upgraded on a long-haul flight, you'll know what I'm talking about. In one fell swoop you are condemned to a lifetime of flying and knowing that you're missing out. I think it's government policy to give people one upgrade in their lifetime, to give them the incentive to work. Just one. Should you think of forgetting what it was like, don't worry, you'll have to walk past all the big comfy business class seats, with their fold up TVs and their complimentary newspapers, on your way to 53F. And as a mid-flight reminder...
"We're approaching some turbulence, would passengers like to return to their seats and fasten their seatbelts... and would passengers in business class like to fold away their footrests and place their champagne flutes into the specially designed holders and invite their Filipino masseurs to hasten the end of the pre-prandial scrotal rubs."
Why do we need to know? There are different intercoms for the different sections, we all know that. Why tell us? It's a government conspiracy I thought as I stared at the dog poo.
"Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Its little poo-lips seemed to whisper back to me. I nodded. I had loved. I had loved Burton Court. Truly, I had loved it. The lush green outfield. The glowing white pavilion. The boundary rope that was the best friend to anyone who had fielded at fine leg. The lack of dog poo. The fact that aged passers-by would lean in and ask:
"Who's playing today?"
"White Ligtning and The Twenty Minuters"
"Ah..." A sage nod and they're on their way.
And we haven't even mentioned the beautiful arrogance-inducing fact that Burton Court is the third most valuable cricket pitch in THE WORLD!
I had loved it.
And we lost it.
As if to a V2 bomb, or a real estate developer, we lost it.
I looked forlornly at Barney as he sat, forlornly, on his rump, wallowing in a slippery puddle of muddy kitty litter and parmesan shavings. Here at South Park, someone had been pitch-tampering. They had picked its seam, scuffed its leather and placed dog poo at fine leg, gully, second slip, third man... well, there was a lot of dog poo. I've done a little research on tampering in the game of cricket and apparently you can tell if cricketers are using sugary saliva to polish the ball by the red slash of colour on their slacks. A brown slash on your slacks means something else. It means the pitch has been stolen and replaced with a giant dog poo. But such obstacles cannot dampen the annual cricketing extravaganza that is White Ligtning Vs. The Twenty Minuters, and, attired with shiny new sweaters, caps and shirts, the teams ventured forth.
The thing about ball tampering is that it's difficult to know where the limits lie. You can tamper to preserve the ball, but not to damage it in any way. Saliva is allowed. But gritty saliva is not. And sugary saliva is questionable. You see how it's difficult to know where the limits lie?
I've been thinking about it in light of the Darryl "Pubic" Hair episode. (Apparently that's an official soubriquet in Pakistan.) (Although they had previously leant it to Ian "Pubic" Bell and of course Mark "Pubic" Butcher.) and essentially it all comes down to one subjective opinion. Is an action to be considered to reflect sporting prowess or ungentlemanly conduct? Certain ruthlessness needs to be displayed if you are to win a cricket match, but how far is too far? Bearing this in mind, let's look at the evidence of Sunday's match and see what the umpire of the moment has to say about it:
The Twenty Minuters' top three seemed to be actively playing to the fielding positions where dog poo was to be found as they notched up an initial 94 for 1.
Pubic Opinion? Although it was difficult to do otherwise, Ungentlemanly Conduct. Scoring well, with some lusty strokeplay, the openers opted to run for cover during a mild shower and stock up on beer and pork based snacks.
Pubic Opinion? Sporting Prowess. Cricketers need calories. White Ligtning's captain changes the bowling to bring on 'the Clarkefather' and 'the crown green wizard' and slow it all down a bit. Four wickets tumble.
Pubic Opinion? Sporting Prowess.
The Twenty Minuters send in their secret batting weapon wearing a kung-fu headband. He's bowled for 0.
Pubic Opinion? Undisclosed.
Another Twenty Minuter hits Godson for two sixes in a row.
Pubic Opinion? Ungentlemanly Conduct, redeemed by holing out going for the third.
The Twenty Minuters set a target of 178 all out.
Pubic Opinion? Sporting Prowess. Or so one would have thought...
White Ligtning send out Tods to see off the new ball. Twelve overs and three runs later he's bowled.
Pubic Opinion? Ungentlemanly Conduct. On the part of The Twenty Minuters.
New Recruit Andrew Cox scores 71 runs to make the match safe.
Pubic Opinion? Scoring so many is almost ungentlemanly, but then considering the rest of team's lack of batting ability, that has to go down as Sporting Prowess.
The captain flings his box to the ground in disgust after being given out 'caught off the pads' by his own wicket keeper on 32.
Pubic Opinion? Ungentlemanly Conduct. Especially when one considers that said keeper was out for a duck.
Tods volunteering this reporter for a stint as umpire so that he and the rest of the team can "mack on your girlfriend."
Pubic Opinion? Sporting Prowess. (well it is, isn't it?)
Leaving the fairer halves of both the captain and the wicket keeper in charge of lunch, thereby ensuring the following selection of pork products: Ham, Parma Ham, Cocktail Sausages, Pepperamis, Scotch Eggs, Pork Pies, Pâté Gelée.
Pubic Opinion? Sporting Prowess. It's no secret, cricketers need calories.
White Ligtning win the match without this reporter having to wield a bat.
Pubic Opinion? Sporting Prowess, when one considers that this reporter's favourite shots are the forward defensive and "Leave It!"
And there we have it. Is that conclusive? No. Does it resolve the debate about ball tampering? In no way. Does it even give a fair reflection of the match? Not really. But who cares? Not this reporter, I'm in the business of writing what the hell I like, so there.
And in conclusion let's usher Hope out of Pandora's box and see it fly into our hearts as next year we pray, we beg, nay, we beseech that Burton Court is not water-logged and that we can forever say goodbye to the caramac wrapper-infested dog poo that is South Park cricket ground. Amen.
