Rain everywhere. Rain down the M3 Southbound, where it follows the Itchen through the water meadows; rain up the M3, where it heads back north from the docks past the pollutions of a not-so-great (and dirty) city – and yes I’m talking about Eastleigh. Rain on the Rec, rain on the downs. Rain creeping down the necks of runners and dog-walkers. Rain on the umbrellas and kit bags of cricketers getting into their cars, looking up the weather forecast or looking up at miserably watery skies and muttering ‘Alex must be out of his mind – there isn’t a chance that the game will be on.’
Except – the rain was not quite everywhere. Seemingly, King Edward VI School had Come To An Arrangement. Perhaps the “Boy King”, looking down, had had a word. Perhaps there really is a “blue hole” over Southampton. Perhaps that’s what you get for your £5,682 a term. Because as the Racqueteersapproached, and as it got to 6pm, the skies cleared, the roads dried, the covers came off and the game was on.
The Vikings batted first. And those Racqueteers who, after hearing the words “staff team”, had naively expected gents in flannels – the kind Ronald Searle might have drawn for the St Custard’s staff team – were abruptly reeducated. These staff seemed to be mostly Australians and South Africans over for a bit of Southern-Hemisphere-winter coaching. Big, youthfuland distressingly athletic. We’re not allowed to call them colonials, but you could say that in physique and temper they bore the stamp of their pioneering ancestors. Imagine the sort of cricketers who look disappointed every time they don’t hit a six.
The response of the Racqueteers, however, was remarkably positive. We bowled with consistency and aggression, and took crucial wickets. The Vikings’ opening bat may have retired on a commanding 34, with a strike rate of 226.67, but from then on every batsman left the field chastened. Head of Trout and the President both took two, at a rate of 7 an over – impressive in the circumstances. The President, in particular, bowled a line and length that would cause anyone to take stock. Leo “I bowl therefore I am” the Philosopher took a dramatic 3 for 13, continuing the successes of his first season, while Flipper, Owen and Shep shored up the attack with some serious pace. Some crisp fielding really helped – notably from Guy “Shep”, who picked up and returned the ball so fizzingly quickly that the words “down boy!”, at one moment, were distinctly heard coming from somewhere out at deep midwicket. At the stumps, the Bard made his debut as a wicketkeeper; if he was disappointed to let three wides go through for four, he was pleased to manage to stop a few as well.
The target set, then, was 162 – quite a run chase, but the Racqueteers were up for it. Shep (6), opening, and the Skipper (2), both fell to good catches, but Leo, our other opener, hit 33off 34 balls, including four 4s and a substantial 6. Paddy (22) pushed the run rate on excitingly and stylishly before also being caught, passing the baton on to Flipper (28) who batted with promise and growing confidence before losing his wicket to a run-out – a game attempt to chase down our target. Owen (16 not out ) saw it home, getting his runs off just 15 balls. We were close, but not quite close enough: we ended our innings on 144 for 4.
Given that draws are not allowed by the rules of our 20-over game, you might call this a “technical draw”. Or even a “moral draw”: not exactly a moral victory, but definitely one of the Racqueteers’ stronger performances, especially given the quality of the opposition. And apart from one torrential over, the rain held off all night. In the eternal English battle of Weather vs Cricket, Cricket, this time, was the winner.
The Racqueteers Cricket Club 