Vs Streat 23^rd July 2023 

The Mighty Greys jumped through a hole in the jet stream’s relentless deluges and found themselves in Streat, its ground nestling resplendently at the foot of the South Downs scarp slope, and once host to an international cricket match.   

Breaking with tradition, Captain Ben called correctly and put Streat in to bat on a spongey but drying wicket, and before long Diamond Dan and our other DD had reduced Streat to 10-3.  Wickets continued to fall when a fully inflated Richard Partridge bowled Colin Marshall and EO got Martin Butcher LBW with a high full toss.   

During this tumble of wickets the Applause Police were hard at work, and it was a great shock that I found myself being served with an Insufficient Applause Notice by the Applause Commissioner.  On one of the many occasions we waited for Ian to emerge from a hedge or field, I took the card out of my pocket and read that Officers of the Club had mandated me to attend something called a Clap Clinic. But it got worse: I turned the card over and read “AND YOU HAVE ALSO BEEN BANNED FROM BOWLING”.   

With the Greys’ main strike bowler out of the attack, Streat plundered the bowling, with Adam Slimin helping himself to 94* and Callum Wolff 55 before he was well caught by Richard off Dan. TMGs had been set 192 to win in their 90 minutes plus twenty.  

There is a growing belief, to those fed on a diet of Pommie Bears, that what matters in the modern game, especially in a challenging run chase, is to hit the ball as hard and high as possible and hit sixes.  People even spend hours practising something called Range Hitting or using something called a Bowling Machine.  Apparently this is all to do with someone called Baz, the one who plays maracas in the Happy Mondays.  

More than anything, dear reader, this sounds unnecessarily strenuous, a crude and inelegant over-exertion to the point of being a bit of a chore, and all because of the modern obsession with something called the Strike Rate.  There is another way which is far more effective and consumes less valuable energy.  Read on and I’ll tell you how.  

After ten overs, TMGs found themselves three down, with most of the Grey’s reply coming from the bat of Adam Millest. After diligently blocking a few Adam started to thump a few boundaries when he realised that not many were going to come from the other end, eventually falling for a well made 47. Most importantly, 50 runs had been added for the fourth wicket.  Looking to get off the mark quickly, RoborBob went first ball, with the Mighty Greys 5 down, and still needing 114 from the remaining twenty overs. If he was in two minds about which shot to play then maybe its time we gave him a single name.   

But while there is Dave Day, there is hope. Dave announced himself by playing a powerful, fully committed off drive which scorched through the Covers and crashed against the wall of  the groundsman’s hut with a pleasing thud.   

But we were still up against the rate, one of the most unseemly sides of the leisurely sport of cricket, as it can involve a lot of scampering about or something called Running. Unless you’re DD.   

With Dave on strike, the thirty first over went as follows: 

• 4 through the covers 
• 6 (toot!) back over the bowler’s head and into the hedge.  Spare ball please 
• 4 through mid-off 
• 2 – we had to run these.  Thanks Dave! 

• 6 (toot!) back over the bowler’s head and into the hedge. Another spare please. 
• 6 into the field at square leg.  Are there any spares left?  

It was an awesome experience to watch this bowler destroying onslaught from the other end, watching and listening in to panic setting in amongst the fielding side.  

They were in shock 

At such a great knock 

All I did was block 

With my bat 

And sometimes my 

Pads.  

With 28 scored in the over, we now needed only 49 from 13 

We (OK, I mean Dave) carried on accumulating until, with eight runs needed, yours truly got bowled.  Me and Dave had put on 102, of which Dave had scored 71.   

I did manage a six though, without having to resort to any of that vulgar range hitting stuff. Here’s the secret.  

First, you must fool the opposition by gently and repeatedly prodding the ball behind square on the leg side.  As the Laws cruelly still require you to move in order to score something called Runs, start strolling towards the other end at a leisurely and gentlemanly walking pace while a hot and increasingly bothered opposition try and fail to throw down your stumps (except for the occasion when they do so by deliberately standing in the way of your relaxing promenade). 

Then, when they least expect it, glide the ball into something called the off (or “Devil’s) side and stride with unbecoming purpose to the other end.  As you make your way back, watch with wry amusement as the over excited fielders hurl the ball past the stumps, down the hill and over the boundary.   

And there we are.  Six runs with barely a calory expended.  Quite why this deliberate, ingenious and PSM winning tactic didn’t earn a toot on Biff’s horn is completely beyond me.   

Captain QB came out and smashed a couple of elegant fours through Covers and The Mighty Greys, chasing nearly 200, had won by 4 wickets with seven overs to spare. 

 DFWTMG 

Post Scriptum 

The recent emergence of Pommie Bear cricket has seen many new changes to the Laws – such as the batsmen crossing – but one that must surely happen soon must concern running. 

Cricket has always been the most leisurely game of them all, to be played with a minimum of effort or exertion.   

If you’ve managed to hit the ball with your bat, why do you have to then run AS WELL?  

Surely the captains of the two teams can come to an amicable agreement about what the shot is worth, as they do with the boundary.   

One of the most regrettable changes to the Laws in the last hundred years is surely the removal of Law 22.2.3.  

I quote from my 1909 Wisden: 

“Where a batsman has inadvertently made excessive contact with the ball, such that it approaches, but does not pass, the boundary rope, he shall be rewarded by being carried in a sedan chair for three times the length of the pitch”. 

One of the saddest sights of visiting older cricket grounds like Firle and Lindfield is to espy an old, decaying cast-aside wooden sedan resting by a rusting old unpowered roller.   

The requirement that a batsman who has gone to the trouble of prodding the ball a whole five yards into a gap should then be required to ALSO scamper an additional TWENTY TWO yards has surely got to change.  There is an unarguable case to be made for painting a white line across the middle of the pitch at eleven yards, as they do in indoor cricket. That’s surely far enough. 

Maybe one at five yards too.  

The batsman should also be awarded four runs just for managing to make it from the pavilion to the crease at the start of their innings.  These distances don’t get any shorter, you know.   

To save time on drinks breaks a small bar area should be permanently sited this on mid-pitch line for the increasingly fatigued and exploited batsman, preferably serviced by someone called Dave Harris serving a Vera and Tonic, with ice and slice.  

While there, you could have a chat with him about this. 

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The same applies to the gully area, which also deserves its own bar.  Something like this: