Match Report
Thursday 1 August
The departure of Ralph, the continuing incapacity of Moysey and the unavailability of Loved-up Wilsdon, meant there were only ten available players for our final fixture against Lord Tankards at Loxhore. Fortunately the Scouser’s fixture had been cancelled and we were able to draft in the services of Stevo, to get us to a full compliment. In order to fit in a reasonable lunch-time session, we set out early for our trip across Exmoor, stopping on route at the Black Venus at Challacombe. The locals were treated to a rumbustuous rendition of 'She Fucking Hates Me' by Puddle of Mudd, which seemed to have been adopted as Unofficial Tour Song by most cars, with the exception of Gordon’s in which you could listen to some very laid back Soul.
The pub initially appeared very pleasant, until the appearance of a very scary landlady; we were not surprised that she emanated from Gravesend. What was more alarming was that her father appeared to have mated with a mule to produce her. After a couple of pints of what we were assured was the cheapest ale around, we continued to Loxhore.
Thursday 1 August -v- Lord Tankards at Loxhore
The ground at Loxhore was very long and narrow, with the wicket in a position, that meant a straight six in either direction, would need only a forty yard carry. Our opposition were a little more antiquated than in our previous fixtures and first impressions were that we could give them a hell of a beating. Chuckles who had tried to maintain some control over the lunch-time antics, called incorrectly and we found ourselves asked to field. We then lost Makker for the whole of the session, after he offered to drop Danglers at the pub in nearby Bratton Fleming and was then engulfed by an overwhelming compulsion to remain with him. Jim opened the bowling for a third consecutive match, having told Stevo that 'he didn't have much of a run up, but he did have a fast arm' - Stevo's still waiting to see it. In contrast Stevo took only one ball to announce his arrival at the club, clean bowling the opener. It was fairly apparent that the Tankards did not encounter such bowling very often and very soon two more batsmen had succumbed to the fiery Northener. Despite the small perimeters, Tankards were having difficult accumulating runs, settling instead merely to survive. Chuckles finally 'called off the dogs' and introduced Gordy, Spud and TImmo – ‘the twirly trio’. Even this fairly gentle fare could not encourage some lusty blows, with twenty overs of spin costing a miserly 40 runs. These figures would lead those not witnessing the event, to believe that the ball was turning at right angles on a pitch with more serpents than 'The Temple of Doom'. This was not the case, with Timmo in particular relying heavily on the 'one that goes straight on', even though his flouncy action would appear to be imparting immeasurable spin on the ball. Chuckles finally released the pressure valve by introducing himself and The Ox. My Old Mum couldn't fail to score off these two, and so it proved, with our hosts adding close to 100 runs from the last twelve overs. After a marathon 51 overs Lord Tankards innings closed on 207 for 9. Makker returned during the tea interval and Chuckles demonstrated that lessons had been learnt from the despicable treatment of the "Burham Four', by offering the openers berth to him. He was joined at the wicket by his roommate the Wing-Co, but within the first two overs both were returned to the pavilion. Glenn started our response with a first ball six (bet he couldn't have hit one if we'd asked him), then patted back the next four before being bowled by the last ball, attempting another outrageous hoick. Nick failed to trouble the scorers, still appearing a little taken aback by Makker's bedroom outburst. Sumo supplied some quick-fire entertainment with a brisk 10, but it was left to Richard and Stevo to bludgeon the bowling into submission. In just under 19 overs, they added an unbeaten 183 to secure a draw. Stevo cantered to a century, hitting 9 sixes and 7 fours in the process and Richard was undefeated on 80 when we believed the winning runs had been struck. Their partnership was a club record for the 4th wicket and for all wickets.
Nick and Neil bade us farewell, before we took refreshment in a pub where Moysey seemed on first name terms with most of the bar staff. After a couple of pints and some food we returned to the hotel for the 'big, money arm wrestle'. Alas last night's preamble had left the farmer boy clad in an elbow bandage and all bets were off.
Friday 2 August
A supreme effort from Moysey saw him surface in time, both for breakfast and to see the Scouser's on their way. The majority of our party left shortly after, leaving only five to partake in the inaugural staging of 'The Spud Whale Four Club Challenge at the Minehead and West Somerset Golf Club. On probably the warmest day of the week, there was an air of inevitability about the result, with Spud carding a fine 87, beating Makker into second place. Both Timmo and The Claw had decent rounds and Gordon was also on the course - then off the course...then on the course. The end to what was widely agreed to be a fine week. Maybe one lesson that could be learnt if we tour again is that it is not necessary to drink to excess in order to enjoy yourself.
Latest First To Die Odds From William Hill
Moysey 4-5 Complete bodily shut-down
Simon 6-1 Self diagnosed ruptured spleen
Chris 6-1 Drowning from over active tear ducts
Chuckles 8-1 Natural causes - old bugger
Chris 8-1 In-growing eyebrow causing massive brain haemorrhage
Chris 10-1 Complete flaking of outer lavers of skin
Richard 20-1 Ritual hanging for brash Aussies
Bill 25-1 Gout
Chris 50-1 Blow to the head from cricket ball
