AINLEY’S ASHES
ONE WORTH REMEMBERING

LTCC 273-6 (40 OVERS)
WCC 274-2 (40.4 OVERS)
WCC WON BY 8 WICKETS

 

Greasy Spoon breakfast - £4
Team fags - £5
Round of pints at pre-match boozer - £7
Taking home the Silverware - Priceless

The scent of victory from last years fixture against the old foe was still fresh in the nostrils (the smell later turning out to be a pair of socks that had been left in the change room 12 months ago – unclaimed then as now) when young Ralph Smee won the toss on his first outing to the middle thus giving Skipper first pick of what looked like a lively strip to do battle for, and I quote, “a splendid new trophy “Ainley’s Ashes” in memory of Tony Ainley who played for both clubs and is remembered with warm affection”.  With such a prize on offer it was not surprising that fewer pints and a lighter lunch than usual were had at the Black Prince and a number of Weekenders were even seen sneaking off to the ground early-doors to “warm up”.

Trusting in the devil you know Skips sent the Theatres in and a “strong on paper” squad strode forth deprived only of the steadying presence of G.Hogben whose issues with faulty rubber were only fully explained by the arrival of the AA man post match. 

PJ and Flat Pete opened the attack and in a moment of pure sportsmanship Jules put down a sitter off Flat “just so as to make a game of it” - the two Ps were then promptly pasted to all corners.  Morty Vickery replaced Pete and the mentally suspect speedster, having failed to eliminate past demons, withdrew himself from the attack after a new record of just three overs citing “an inability to bowl” rather than any physical ailment.  Jules snaffled a couple of quick wickets to help stem the flow although his sportsmanship got the better of him again and a quick check of the abacus revealed one fruity over worth 22 to the oppo as Hoggers was spotted limbering up on the boundary in expectation of his first toad of the season.

They say you can only play with the hand you are dealt and Skips shuffled his bowling deck masterfully but in a pack lacking all of his usual aces and most of the picture cards too knowing when to bowl ‘em, knowing when to spell ‘em, knowing when to take ‘em off and knowing when to just give up was always going to be difficult.  When the name of bowler number 8 was yelled to the sidelines and scorer Jenny replied that she had run out of coloured pens it was clear that the barrel bottom hadn’t just been scraped but broken up, nailed together and asked to send down some more pies.  Laurence Emmett and Nass Husaini picked up a wicket apiece and Flat pouched a fly-ball in the deep but is was Marvel Harvey’s 2 for 30 off 9 and Smee’s tidy work behind the timber which shone on an otherwise gloomy day in the field.  As LT smugly declared on 6 for 273 everyone assumed that TC’s quip of matters being “in the bag” referred only to LTs vice-like grip on the trophy.

Hoggers and Vickery set off at a blistering pace and upon reaching their respective ends and taking guard settled in to steady the listing ship.  The 50 came and went in the blink of an eye , in fact so fast did Morty V score that his own personal milestone went unnoticed as the ecstatic crowd of 7 launched Mexican wave after Mexican wave.  Morty duly received his overdue applause on 59 and when Hoggers too passed the mark the spectators found their voice chanting without pause - “come all without, come all within, you’ve not seen nothing like the mighty Hog-bin” being one which received more airtime than it perhaps deserved.

Not satisfied with 59 the crafty Queenslander bludgeoned his way to 91 of a mere 62, a deserved ton sacrificed in the hunt for quick runs but sharing an opening stand of 151 and setting the lads up for 20 overs of hope.  Emmett came in to anchor an end, nervelessly supporting a rampant Graham whose own three figure milestone drew nearer with every flashing drive and some odd sort of slog-sweep shot that no-one back in the pavilion could quite describe but all agreed was effective.  When Emmett fell signs of imminent choke were all too obvious but Keeza thought otherwise as a long handle and pace between the wickets saw the Brighton Doc smote a run a ball 40.  With Hogben surging past three figures it was definitely game on.  As spectators paced the scoreboard indicated 6 needed, 3 overs left, 8 wickets in hand - all felt that any result was still possible……until GH spanked a mighty six over square leg to scenes of delirium on the touch-line.

The silverware was graciously handed over, speeches were made and all agreed it was a cracking day that Tony would have thoroughly enjoyed.  Skips set out to parade the trophy before the adoring throng and a top day was then followed by a top tea at the Top Wok all you can eat diner as the Weekenders food intake record book was not simply torn-up but hurled out the window with a spring-roll per square inch record unlikely to be bettered for years to come.

London Theatres  6 (dec) – 273 from 40 overs (D Chisnall 112, J Holmes 82)

PJ                 3 – 0 – 17 – 0
Flat               4 – 0 – 45 – 0
Morty V        4 – 0 – 27 – 0
Marvel H      9 – 1 – 30 – 2
Chiari T        5 – 0 – 23 – 0
Jules            8 – 1 – 58 – 2
LEmmet       4 – 0 – 41 – 1
Nass            3 – 0 – 25 - 1

Catches – Chiari, Simmonds

Weekenders CC – 2 - 274 from 40.4 overs

A Vickery    91
G Hogben          116*
L Emmett           10
T Chiari                  40*
Not required because top order were so good
M Harvey
PJ Harvey
H Husaini
J Lyons
P Simmonds
T Smee
M D’Inverno

Weekenders win by 8 wickets.

 

PJ HARVEY

 

 

 

THE VIEW FROM THE OPPO:

 

 

London Theatres Productions Proudly Presents,

 

 

Plenty of Pies, Mounds of Mash and Lashings of Liquor

Or “A dose of the runs” or

“CAN YOU?”

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

In Association with “Mrs. Miggins” promotions

 

 

Starring

 

 

                        London Theatres                           Weekenders

 

                        J. Kustow                                           A. Vickery

                        D. Chisnall                                         G. Hogben

                        C. Wright                                            L. Emmett

                        J. Holmes                                           T. Chiari

                        W. Parry                                              M. Harvey

                        S. Bennett                                         P. Harvey

                        A. Wise                                               P. Simmonds

                        G. McChlery                                      J. Lyons

                        D. Cunningham                                 H. Hussain

                        S. Holmes                                          M. D’Inverno

                        J. Hemmings                                      T. Smee

                        M. Vivian

                        M. Mitchell

 

Act One 

An historic day began with an ominous sign, when Skipper lost the toss to a five year old! Only the most important toss of the season too! The silverware could depend on that toss? Weekenders knew it. We knew it as well.

Another point is that we had selected 13. Any more omens needed?

And it was with some delight that Weekenders skipper, Mark D’Inverno, invited us to dine at the self service buffet first.

The historic day was the inaugural Anthony Ainley trophy match, played in honour of our departed friend. The trophy had pride of place in the Molins bar awaiting the gleeful grasp of the victorious captain.

But who would it be? Who would have the honour of having their team name inscribed in pride of place? Who would be first?  The mixture of young bloods and experienced pro’s, (for experienced pro’s read old farts) lined up to do battle for the honour of Ainley…….something which had been lost  early in his career when he was caught giving an ASM some theatrical instruction in between a matinee and evening show at the Intimate, Palmers Green.  With a combined age of just under eight hundred our doughty boys took to the green, thought better of it and opted for a classy shade of peuce.

 

 

Act Two

 

Weekenders opening bowlers, Harvey and Simmonds were first to realise just how fast scoring a ground this was. Kustow and Chisnall steaming along at 6 an over. On the boundary the newly formed trio The Platonic Mittens were showing their cheerleader skills.  As Lizzie Lookout, Sasha Good-one and Dawn Rising bumped and grinded their pom-pommed touches along the toucheline, they sang their motivational ditty…

”WE ARE FIT AND WE ARE STRONG,

 BUT WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?

PLAY WITH STYLE AND PLAY WITH GUSTO

GO GO DEAN  AND GEN’RAL KUSTOW

YOU MAKE THE PERFECT COMBINATION

A LAD FROM WIGAN AND A VISITOR FROM AN ALIEN

NATION.

 

The scansion not being what it should be they soon discarded their pom-poms, opened some champagne and planned their first tour.

The shorn outfield showed no mercy for any bowler? ( good job there weren’t any real bowlers here then!) any shot that beat the infield was a certain boundary.

Weekenders gained some relief when they dismissed Kustow for 22. The score had reached 86 with Chisnall comfortable at the crease after his 2 earlier skied escapes.

We had set our sights on 250 expecting this to be enough, but in a previous year we had set 240 and lost heavily, so maybe a few more would be needed? Surely it wouldn’t happen again?

Wright kept Chisnall company till he was beaten by a good’un and castled for 10, making way for J. Holmes and his Gordon Greenidge impersonation ( beware batsman with limp).

Deano reached his 2nd ton of the season and looked set for a big red inker, he celebrated with 2 more huge sixes before a low one pinned him in front. Umpire Vivian having no doubts in raising the deadly digit. The lad from Wigan looked long and hard down the track.  How could “sir” give him his marching orders?  With a gritty northern looook that said “Tha couldna deerect traffic.  Ah’ll give thee Peggy Sue.  Ah’m off t’ seek cuumfat in ‘arms of mi Lizzie”, he strode back to ‘pavilion.

Wardy is due some runs. Today would have been a good day for them too. He’d brought Sasha to see him play, the gallery was gathered in front of the pavilion, the stage was set. Alas, it was a tragedy that he starred in and not a Shakespearian epic. He’d been undone for a single. Much Ado about Nothing! Sasha-cord smiled lovingly as he returned to the pavilion believing that he had missed her so much that once he got to the crease, he decided he’d made a mistake and hurried back to her welcoming arms.

Skipper strode out, another in need of a knock, and made a brief 14, all the while That rascal Sir Jasper was continuing his one legged assault from the other end. As liberated by his Richard the Third image, he thumped and thwacked the cherry all over the park, scattering many a Weekend in his wake.

The final partnership, between Wise and Jasper was brutal. Producing 71 in 7 overs with Jasper kindly falling to a Simmonds catch at Long On off the last ball of the 40th Over.

At this point skipper called a halt to the slaughter expecting 273 to be far too many!!!!! ( we wouldn’t have fancied chasing that many)

He also thought that the extra half an hour would be needed to prize out the Weekenders batters on this featherbed pitch.

Theatres had 1 hand on the trophy at tea. Would they be able to add the other hand by the end of the day?

 

 

Intermission

A Cunningham’s Catering extravaganza was set before us. Desperate to beat the earlier benchmark score set by Raffles, David recruited the big guns in Megan and Shirley, hoping to steal the tea idol trophy away.

9.5 out of 10. The perfect 10 awaits. Will it be awarded this season?

 

 

 

Act Three

273 to defend should prove a doddle. A walk in the park. Attacking fields could be set. All bases could be covered. Surely we were safe?

Weekenders openers thought otherwise and set off as if they actually thought they could get them? I mean how ridiculous a notion is that? Weekenders scoring 274 to win? Against us as well.

Gareth opened with Skipper and the second course of the banquet commenced. Weekenders scored even quicker than we did, which says a lot for the standard of fielding and bowling from both teams. A veritable feast was taking place before our eyes, with Weekenders batters gorging themselves on the offerings.

It took us till 152 to grab the first wicket and, even then, we still thought we would win! Deano bowling Vickery for a 62 ball 91 ( did he think we were playing 20/20?).

We managed to snaffle another scalp, but not before the 200 had been posted and 20 overs called. Wright holding a simple chance off Skipper to dismiss Emmett.  Pulses started to race.  The mercurial Mitchell dispensed his wicked and particular sort of humour from mid-wicket……”Do you think they are scared ….you’re joking, aren’t you?  The cards are dealt against us so let’s Kaluki!”  With that he performed a curious dance called a straight flush whilst laughing like Woody Woodpecker. 

Chiari came in and made his intentions clear straight away taking 10 from skippers first 2 balls.

Theatres just had no answer to the onslaught. History was being made today and Weekenders were staking their claim for the silverware.

Hogben completed the 2nd ton of the match and won the game for Weekenders in company with Chiari.

Theatres were beaten. The Anthony Ainley trophy would be leaving us for at least a year!!!

 

 

 

 

Encore

In simple terms, if you can’t defend 273 you don’t deserve to win. We batted well but bowled and fielded poorly. (Practise anyone?)

Too many mis-fields and ill-directed throws. Too many half trackers and full bungers.

Too little lack of variety in the attack for which I accept responsibility. The variety was there, but ignored.

Tony would have loved today.

He would have loved seeing so many runs scored and ordinary bowling displays.

He would have loved the cut and thrust of the day.

He would have loved the quick outfield and true pitch.

He would have loved the trophy.

He would have loved to have been there and shared the day with us.

He was.

 

“CAN YOU?”

 

 

…………….. ….(“sorry, bowler”)

 

God Bless.