We have history at Crawley. The Skipper, padding up, wistfully recalled playing his first innings there, when he was 12. Tom Talks gleefully remembered being coached in his bowling by one of their players – he attempted to iron out the idiosyncratic hop that Tom does right before his delivery stride. As will become clear, the Racqueteers have every reason to be glad that, in this unwise project, the Crows’ coach was unsuccessful.
Now cricket is never about solo performances. Except sometimes when it is: and this was a match in which one of our bowlers took five wickets and another four, and one of our batsmen scored more than half of our runs, cruising past his half-century and steering us to a comfortable and particularly satisfying victory. Step forward Tom “Ted” Talks, Leo “the Pope” and, at the crease, Mike the Skipper. And let it not be forgotten – why are wicketkeepers so often neglected? – that G took two catches behind the stumps.
We started in the field. Ted’s bowling seems to mature every year, adding consistency and cunning to his enviable pace and snap. And resilience too – he bowled 10 overs. He struck in his first. And again in the sixth, seventh, ninth and tenth, finishing with figures of 5 for 31. Mike the President opened at the other end, and bowled six solid overs before the Pope rolled up in his Popemobile and began probing the Crows’ defences with his challenging left-arm inswingers. He struck in his second, third, fourth and fifth overs, finishing with enviable figures of 4 for 11 off six overs.
Now the Skipper is not known for letting victory slip from his grasp, but with Crawley down to their final pair and only 70-odd on the scoreboard, at this point he could be forgiven for relaxing a little. He gave the ball first to Shaun, who after an understandably nervous first over steadied himself admirably and bowled an irreproachable maiden; it bodes well. Jules bowled well, too, finding just the right line and length. The Bard, meanwhile, tried an over of medium pace. But the runs were adding up and we just could not dislodge the last pair so the Skipper sensibly threw the ball to OC (1 for 7) who finished things off like a heron dispatching a small perch: stab, swallow, gone.
Our turn. The Bard (7) and Sepia (4) opened, and both made the long walk back to the pavilion somewhat sooner than they might have hoped. The Bard was out à la Bairstow – wandering out of his ground after the ball had gone through to the keeper, and finding the ball had been rolled back onto the stumps behind him while he blithely contemplated his next shot. G thought it was fair enough. Perhaps it was.
But the story of the innings was not about that – it was all about the Skipper’s performance. G called it “a captain’s innings”, and it was. An innings of 69 runs, built patiently but not slowly, singles giving way to boundaries, judicious cuts and flicks maturing into flowing drives. He was ably supported by OC (10) and Benno (29). OC offered his usual positivity while Benno played the perfect foil to the skipper. Is there a better cut shot in the Racqueteers than Benno’s? And how about that swivelling pull shot as well? The Skipper and Benno’s partnership – cheered on by both their actual partners, pleasingly – took the Racqueteers from mild nerves to absolute confidence, and it was only left to the Pope (5), at the Skipper’s side, to provide the final benediction.
We all play cricket for many, many reasons. Perfecting our own performance and perhaps also facing some of our own, personal fears and inadequacies. The sheer love of the game, and its rituals, and what you might call its sonic landscape: the snick, the crack of willow, the thudding of a bowler’s feet on turf, the thump of ball into pad and the cries of “howzat”, the comfortingly snug slap of a ball successfully caught, the voices of our teammates drifting across the ground. Birdsong. Wind in the trees around a ground. Camaraderie, and the opportunity to make friendships with opponents, sometimes over many years. Every cricketer feels these pleasures in different measures and in different mixes. But one pleasure that I think we all share is the delight in a win. And a win, I think, is all the sweeter when you beat a team that wants to win even more than you do.
The Racqueteers Cricket Club 