Match Report by Ben Boorman

It was with unbridled enthusiasm that The Bloody Lads set out for verdant, bucolic Gloucestershire for the annual friendly fixture with long-time friends of the club, Cranham CC.

What greeted the Lads was a reminder that there are three things that we just don’t get in London; a pavilion, a great tea, and a damn good thrashing at the hands of superior cricketing beings. What needs to be established early on in this report is that this wasn’t a subtle, small-scale deconstruction of a side, more a comically enormous Monty Python appendage crushing our hapless heroes underfoot, leaving only vaguely human-shaped imprints in the ground. It is testament not only to the sportsmanship inherent to Cranham but to the spirit of the BLCC that the 2016 encounter transpired to be the vibiest games that has played out in recent memory.

After losing the toss, skipper for the day Ben was asked to lead the Lads into the field, captain Cranham Sam Cooper wisely taking the decision to have a bat, on a strip bookended by sloping turf, on a beautiful summers day. After two zoots and a quick rehearsal in the nets, Ben decided that, in the absence of an opening bowler, a hastily-decided upon change in technique would qualify him to start the game off with some improvised seam-up from a five-step run up. The first over saw some probing deliveries posed to the hench Cranham partnership, mostly around ankle-height and mostly thanks to a misguided missile of a shiny new cherry; a crocked Karl Mathiesen was big enough to shoulder of the weight of opening from the pavilion end, and initially found some success as the obviously talented batsmen sought to play correctly and take a look at this bizarre species of urban cricketer. Ben in particular owed a great debt to Henry Lloyd-Hughes at cover, who not only acted as ball magnet for the day but who took on the role with great relish, snaffling cleanly the sort of drive that would inspire you to write a treatment for a rental car service ad campaign. It was only for the hands of Lloyd-Hughes that it took Cranham’s Chris Insertsurnamehere 7 overs to retire on 51, a score that was aided by Ben’s now-wayward deliveries. Karl and Ben were replaced by Dan Foat and debutant Lad Chris Hale, bowling hoops and left-arm orthodox respectively. Dan found that his blossoming hangover was not helping him find a good length, but nonetheless was drawing both swing from the ball and the occasional compliment from the observing umpires as he extracted a bit of nip off the seam. Of the two, Chris was creating more chances, a couple of high, swirly catching opportunities sticking in the breeze and landing safely between the conventionally-placed fielders. But the two were also undergoing the same rough treatment from the local bully boys, and if hitting out had been ruled anti-banter by some sort of UniLad system of post-match forfeits by the home side then Luke Bennieyworth clearly remembered that he had bank holiday Monday to deal with the consequences, dumping a massive maximum over the sightscreen to retire on 59 - the fact that he remained at the crease after reaching the half century surely to be subject to a stewards enquiry. Or, just maybe, we ’re assuming the worst and he was actually awarded 10 runs for being the first man to relocate a cricket ball to the ionosphere.

With Bennieyworth’s partner also making a decent account of himself, a silent recognition of the reality dawned on the fried field - maybe Cranham could go the distance without loss, the only rotation of the batsmen coming when the latest superhuman grew bored of marmalising the duke’s special into something resembling a school sports day beanbag. So it was with great delight that Dan Foat and Ben Boorman combined to dismiss the terrifyingly confident Matt, Foat delivering something just short of a length and Boorman instinctively snaring a chance at shortish midwicket. The breakthrough! And it was legitimate, rather than through the opposition’s choice.

And so, the euthanised Matt was replaced with Karl, a sexegenarian who looked as though he might be more familiar with the world of stairlifts and step-in baths than the rest of the lineup, but who was now happily pumping the ball into the Gloucestershire undergrowth. It wouldn’t have taken an eagle eye to spot the England Seniors cap that sat upon his head of grey hair, and he too had soon reached the half-century prerequisite for a retirement. In response, Henry Lloyd-Hughes re-established the BLCC bowling attack as a clear and present danger, clean bowling Stefan, who is about 22, drives a drop-top Jaguar and probably didn’t really care.

Matt Ross was his usual unflappable self, looking every inch as comfortable as if cricket was his daily occupation, and had no second thoughts about taking the ball. His consistent and accurate deliveries, perfectly suitable for the competitive scenario of the NELCL, gave the batsmen something to really think about, and think they did - they thought it was worth about 10.5 an over and they went happily about their business. The introduction of Paddy McGuinness to see out the last two overs from the pavilion end was a masterstoke from the captain so late in the the innings, so late on in fact that the sort of damage that had been done to the scoreboard practically rendered it condemned, and Paddy did well to come out as the most economical of the BLCC attack with a frugal 4-an-over rate.

So it was that the Lads, erm, restricted the home side to a meagre 269 from 30 overs, and tea was taken. And oh, what a tea - an embarrassment of riches greeted a team that is more accustomed to Red Stripes and Camberwell Carrots at the changeover. In summary, the weather was with us, the vibe was high and the field settings were on point - but there is only so much the average height Lad can do when the ball is disappearing over their head at an altitude that would render the Stroud area a no-fly zone, so it is only right to an include an honourable mention to Lexi Burgess, playing his first EVER cricket match and mercilessly posted to deep midwicket/deep extra cover, electric sliding around the boundary rope and saving fours with the sort of coccyx-snapping ground fielding that would have Stuart Pierce re-assessing his whole slide-tackling career. Oh, and fellow debutant Matt Incledon did a sterling job of fetching the ball from the potato field next door.

After tea, Ben outlined a plan that involved a chance at the top of the order for Paddy McGuinness, to be partnered by Chris Hale, a batsman more accustomed to facing the new ball. I say new ball, we actually used the same ball from the first innings because the Cranham kit man couldn’t be bothered to walk to his car to fetch a fresh cherry. It was just that kind of day, and it was just fine. Both Paddy and Chris were watchful in the face of the slow bowling of Mason and Stefan, who were clearly keeping their their bionic arms on ice but were accurate nonetheless. It was tragic that, just as the scoreboard stared to tick over Chris was run out, trying to double a tight single but falling some way short of the crease for an exemplary 14. Matt Incledon, batting at number 3, induced a sharp ankle-height catch from cricket-bot Bennieyworth, and Max Bennett was clean bowled after exciting the growing crowd by running 3. Stan set about not just re-building the innings, but erecting a wall of his own, which was of course metaphorical but irl probably would have been in dry stone as an homage to the rural surroundings. Stan played an essential role in making the game last longer, and was unfortunately caught at mid-on, but not before running out Patrick McGuinness for 34 after a rush of blood to the head; the whoops of delight from the boundary upon seeing a scoring shot convincing him that a leisurely single might actually be turned into two. The fact that I’m now writing about Foat and Boorman’s partnership must surely mean that I’ve strayed from the chronological path, but ignoring that fact we’ll have a brief analysis of the 50 partnership between batsmen 6 and 7 that left the Lads if not over the line, then surely passed out somewhere within touching distance. Foat, one toenail down after a particularly energetic bowling spell, was hitting cleanly but couldn’t battle through the pain barrier to get over strolling pace, so his portfolio of well-timed shots yielded about half the runs they were truly worth, which quite suited Ben, who was well and truly toasted by this point. Nevertheless, he too weighed in with a well-measured 24, with the two Lads now seemingly taking part in a competitively-themed open air net session that involved little running and led oppo captain Sam to enquire why Dan and Ben were batting so low down the order. I made up something diplomatic-sounding about wanting to give everyone a game and didn’t mention that we were scared that the big boys might actually bowl at us properly. The unbeaten pairing took the Lads to 157 (shout out to Extras with a cameo worth 19 runs) after the alloted overs, but in reality the required total may as well have been 458, 856473932, an old VHS copy of Men Behaving Badly or a figure that can only be expressed as a series of imperceptible changes in atmospheric pressure - it would have taken a miracle, or Dan being able to run, to get anywhere near it. But, and here’s the thing - IT DIDN’T MATTER. We had all made it to the most spectacular slice of the West Country, we’d all been kissed by the sun god, we;d all seen a spectator who looked like Father Jack Hackett and we’d all been hosted with a level of geniality that has become synonymous with Sam Cooper and the Cranham crew. Post-match, the Lads were treated to a BBQ watched over by pit-master and local legend Les, who was nothing short of generous with the ethically sourced char-grilled meats. After one farewell blaze, the Lads were back on the road, and the speed with which we made it back to the city left us, or at east those of us without kids, close family or meaningful occupation in no doubt that we’d just experienced a perfect day.

Man of the Match: Dan Foat - One of only two to take a wicket and he also put runs on the board- if he could have taken quick singles or twos he would’ve made 50