Late News - Typically Rainy Tour Interrupted By Both Shock Cricket Match and a Peruvian Visitor

After seeing our traditional Thursday tour opener at Filleigh called off at the eleventh hour due to a water-logged pitch, the Beamers spent Friday cloud-watching and praying to the Devon weather-gods that the Twenty-20 thrash-a-thon at Bratton Fleming would be on.

Things immediately took a turn for the worse on arrival – an overcast day that had threatened rain finally delivered as the skippers left the pavilion for the toss. Thankfully it was but a brief trickle, and as debut-captain I was grateful for the increased moisture in the air which enabled me to win the toss and insert the hosts to bat on a slanty pudding of a pitch, with two incredibly short boundaries.



... the rain stopped just long enough for Peruvian visitor Towser to snap this ...






At Frank’s suggestion it was agreed with the oppo that each outfielder would have to bowl 2 overs – the half-truth that we wanted to ensure everyone had a bit of a game having travelled such a distance on tour was put forward in support of the idea, the fact that we had an XI chock full of bowling ability strangely wasn’t.

With Jeremy on the money right from the off, ably supported up by Mark Renshaw coming up the hill, the openers were kept quiet initially although the first change pair of Musso and Joe went for a few as the burly number 2 began to swing the bat in a manner befitting the rural landscape. Luck was on his side, and though the boundaries were initially not being troubled too often, strike was rotated and the scoreboard kept ticking along nicely. Midway through the innings, and with the pitch continuing to prove troublesome for bowlers and batsmen alike with its very slow, very low bounce (not to mention the resolute Jonners behind the timbers), the twin spin attack of Rigby and A&E were called upon to break the opening partnership.

A devastating 4-over spell followed in which Frank struck in his first over to remove the well-set number 1. A&E followed with the type of unplayable Dob for which he is renowned, bamboozling the young number 3 before Frank returned to send the number 4 swiftly back to the pavilion.

Siddo, having dropped a straight-forward catch off A&E 2 overs previously, was quickly offered the chance to redeem himself off his own bowling, but couldn’t make it stick, whilst Beast applied steady pressure from the bottom end, unleashing the trademark roar and taking the fourth wicket of the innings shortly thereafter, at which point Beamers had vague hopes of restricting BF to under 100. I closed the innings with Rob Nic, and although a further wicket fell, bringing the average age of the Beamers wicket-takers down to the lower side of 50, BF finished with 108, with the opener bagging an unbeaten half-century.

A hastily knocked up batting order saw Frank and Joe stride confidently into the gloom to begin the Beamers innings, although the challenge ahead was soon brought into sharp context as Joe missed a straight ball which failed to bounce more than an inch off a shortish length. The next over saw one of the more remarkable pieces of fielding of the season as Frank was caught by an athletic diving catch by BF’s not out opening bat. The jury’s still out on who was more surprised – Frank, the fielder or his BF team-mates.

Less than 3 overs in the Beamers were in trouble at not-many for 2, a situation which hardly improved through 8 further overs of slow accumulation, despite the unsuccessful efforts of Beast to launch the ball to all corners of Devon. Murmurs of concern were growing on the boundary as Beast and I continued to plod our way to 44-2 off 11 overs.

Sensing momentum not so much slipping away as disappearing over the horizon waving the finger, and with plenty of batting to come, the decision was made to up the run rate. A banquet of boundaries followed: I hit a young leg-spinner back over his head and the hedge on the short boundary to earn a much-needed rest as a search party was dispatched to retrieve the ball, Beast struck the same bowler skywards, only to see the boundary fielder hold a steepling catch… then take a step backwards over the rope for another maximum. Failing to recapture the magic of innings-past, Beast made a Captain Oates-like excursion from his crease, Jeremy replacing him as I continued to ‘go aerial’ at the other end.

With a round 30 required from the final 3 overs Jeremy was stumped and replaced by Rob N, and a decent pace bowler was replaced by the successful BF opener, who took it upon himself to prove that although a fine batsman and fielder he may be, the term ‘all-rounder’ was applicable only to his physique. Leaving gaps in the field and placing most of his fielders in the area from midwicket to long-on proved unsuccessful in stemming the flow as the run-rate continued to accelerate, the winning 6 being hit with two balls to spare.

Great thanks must be given to Bratton Fleming, who as well as generously agreeing to the suggestion on bowling restrictions which clearly favoured the touring team, and contributing to a thoroughly enjoyable and ultimately close contest, also provided a decent crowd to watch the match, found time to feed us with a fine BBQ and were generally magnificent hosts.

Nick

Beamers in Sinister Return to Form

A chaotic week of “selection” leading up to August 30th’s hastily arranged game away to Wadhurst Sunday 2nds, with withdrawals on the Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday, was not enough to put the 10 Man Beamers off their considerable stride.

After finally finding the ground, winning the toss and electing to bat, a new opening partnership of Maf and Sanjay was going along steadily enough until disaster struck in the form of two “interesting” decisions from Hangman John leaving both openers shaking their heads ruefully and, in Maf’s case, muttering about revenge.


There then followed a period in which The Beamers’ innings entered The Doldrums and became becalmed. Some of this was due to Mr Brett playing himself in typically studiously and some because every time Nick played an attacking shot, it went straight to a fielder. Unfortunately, a period of troubling the scorer by repeatedly asking him merely to place another dot in the scorebook was ended when Nick was about as lbw as it’s possible to be.

Fortunately for the skipper’s blood pressure (always a worry, frankly) Marlon strode to the crease looking as though he meant business and eager to justify his elevation in the order. A combination of elegant shot making, meaty drives and hilarious running between the wickets from Simon, Marlon and Ben saw the Beamers to approximately 170 for 6 – the highlight being Marlon’s 50 which featured a six that cleared two hedges, a road and a grassy knoll before nestling robustly in some nettles, there to be left undisturbed for some later civilisation’s archaeologists to discover.


With 30 minutes or so to go, Albert Pierrepoint joined Rob Nic at the crease with the exhortation from his skipper to express himself (and the exhortation from Maf to go **** himself) ringing in his ears. Luckily, John was listening to me, so he and Rob swung the bat mightily, taking the score rapidly up to 230 before they were called in 5 minutes early.

After a very tasty tea, the Beamers took to the field with some concerns about the very short boundary at one end – a tricky field to defend with one man down? Still, 230 would be enough wouldn’t it? With Rob Nic bowling well down the hill without much luck (apart from dismissing their skipper caught by Maf in the covers off a wide long hop, which qualifies as lucky for any number of reasons I guess) and with John struggling with his radar coming up the hill, the score was mounting steadily and questions were being asked about the lack of bowling support and the early declaration.

As any fool knows, what a team really needs in such circumstances are some left-armers to come on and bowl; luckily we had a couple. Firstly, Gordy replaced John coming up the hill and after a few sighters troubled everyone who faced him and soon dismissed numbers 1 & 3, one to an outstanding catch by Nick at square leg. With three wickets down and things looking a bit more under control, it seemed like a good time for me to say, “Thanks Rob – nice spell” and bring myself on to Dob some down the hill.

Modesty naturally forbids me from reporting how many victims resulted, but with one bowled and one beautifully caught by Mr Brett followed by three stumpings by Ben you can probably work out that it was a reasonable number... With another victim for the on-fire Gordy and Kneeless Nick’s seeing off of their 11 year old and despite some comedy fielding (we didn’t drop a single catch but the ground fielding was terrible at times), The Beamers wrapped up the game in fine style with 15 overs to go and with Wadhurst still nearly 100 runs behind.

Beers, boasts and banter in the bar followed as naturally as John, Marlon and Maf leaving without paying their match fees. Seaford Seagulls? Who are they?

A&E

Portslade 21 June - Benfield Valley

The approach to Benfield Valley takes you through Sainsbury's car park and past the petrol station hawking fuel at "1p off per litre with every £50 spent in store". Once past the smell of diesel a sharp left turn brings you out into an unexpected setting. The tree enclosed pitch headed by the pavilion cum bar gives no clue as to the immediate surroundings. Only the occasional motorbike with no heed to urban speed limits gives away the fact that this pitch is enclosed beyond the verdure by main roads and industry.

The start of the game was not the normal calm approach favoured by Beamers' skippers. A case of lost car keys meant that the vice captain (the always dependable F Rigby) had to carry out the toss in the absence of any higher authority. The toss won and with wise understanding of the state of some senior batsmen's heads Frank chose to field. (Beamers arriving home at 4.00am the night before a match will be discussed at the next disciplinary hearing!). The actual skipper, by this time tearing along the Old Shoreham Road, was informed by telephone of the situation. Clarke and Cordery were informed via the same medium that they were to open the bowling.

At 2.28 there were 8 Beamers on the pitch. At 2.29 and 30 seconds we had the full compliment of 11 and with only the faintest hint of flusteredness the Beamers had transformed into the honed machine that has destroyed many a batting line up.
Nick Clarke opened up with a salvo of pacey length bowling and we only had to wait until his third over for the killer leg stump yorker to come into play ripping out the stumps of the promising number 3. Isaac Cordery bowling medium fast left arm over from the Shoreham Road end was loose to start with but once the correct line had been found became trickier and prior to the Clarke wicket had found the outside edge of a wafty poke, the ball looping to a grateful Nicholls swooping at gulley. 20 odd for 2.

Out came the number 4. Skipper, left-handed and described by Rigby F as having a gait and demeanour not dissimilar to Kepler Wessels. He was to prove troublesome.
Cordery was replaced by Nicholls and what followed was 5 overs of the best example of medium paced swingy, lengthy, seamy, drifty mesmerising bowling that Benfield Valley is ever likely to witness. A staunch in the flow of runs and two wickets taking out off stump was the reward for his efforts. "I've no idea where this has come from" was the bowler's insight to the killer spell. 74-4
7 overs of spearing pace from the pavilion end saw the end of Clarke's impressive opening spell and he wandered off to fine leg to nurse another slightly sore head.
On came the leg spin of Rigby R. Although whether the ball or his head was spinning the most is a matter for debate. Despite defeating the bat almost every other ball there was no joy until a leading edge from one that turned back into the right hander became a smartly taken caught and bowled. There was also unfortunately the biggest 6 of the day dispatched (by what looked like a league player to us)into the car park scattering shoppers and shopping alike. Small boys were sent into the thorny bushes to find the ball. Beamers were making steady progress but the left handed captain proved immovable and his 50 arrived.

Nicholls was replaced by Chafey who inspired his captain into the change with " if you like, but last time I bowled like a drain". More train than drain this time though and with 3-36 Chafey produced the best bowling figures of the day. A nicely taken catch at mid off by Ryan Nixon saw to the big hitter. This fielding display was not emulated at mid on where the skipper dropped a skier and a drive in the same over and performed mis-fields and acrobatics in a display of comic inconsistency. After studying the wreckage of another spilled chance Chafey decided to take the advice of Rigby B and promptly bowled his next victim. Another safe catch in the gulley by Nicholls brought the oppo to 8 down.

The left handed skipper was still there and was taking a liking to Riggers leg spin.
With a final throw of the dice the skipper brought on himself and Eaton A to close out the innings. A&E had some joy with a successful LBW against a failed reverse sweep.

The left handed skipper was still there. And sadly still there at the end when he successfully completed his century and declared leaving Eaton high and dry with no potential victims to snaffle. 227-9 dec.

Having received retribution from one of the hangovers about negativity during the first innings the skipper became upbeat about what looked like a large total. With the words "good pitch", "short boundary", "fast outfield" and "hangovers clearing" still echoing off the shrubbery a very tasty tea was taken.

The plan, as I recall it, was for the openers Rigby F and Rigby R to take stock over the first 10 overs, score what was on offer but take no chances. After 10 overs the acceleration would take us beyond the required run-rate and Rigby B and Clarke N could take over once the openers had been seen off and bring us home. The engine room of Nixon, Chafey and Nicholls were in the wings if needed to wrap things up.
A good plan which sadly failed to take into account either the pace of the opening left armer or crucially the quality of the oppositions fielding and catching which , it has to be said, was outstanding.

Rigby R clipped a couple of lovely boundaries before falling to a sharp catch at gulley from a wide half volley.

Rigby F, looking very solid and rock-like, fell to one that moved away off the seam and was taken in the mid-riff of second slip. Sadly this all took place in the first three overs and, despite the interesting scorers fact that after 1.1 overs we had had one of each type of extra, the second phase of the master plan was brought into operation about 8 overs too early.

All was not lost though and the next 10 or so overs saw a nice partnership developing between Rigby B and Clarke N. Ben at his belligerent best and Nick ensuring that phase 3 of the master plan would not have to be brought forward kept us well up with and beyond the run rate.

It couldn't last however and eventually Nick fell in the same way as Riggers and gulley took a superb catch which he didn't look like he expected to hold judging by the surprised expression on his face.

Joined at the crease by Ryan who played well for his partner, Ben battled on until he finally fell on 47. A little like Custer's last stand the heroes were falling and the circle of whooping indians was tightening.

Nicholls joined Chafey in the fray only to be another victim of a ridiculously good catch in the slips.

Out marched the skipper and amongst the hail of arrows and with smoke drifting across the bodies strew over the blood soaked ground Siddens and Chafey drew up the their final plans. A simple matter of a stand of 127 in 20 overs. As Custer discovered things don't always go to plan. A few overs of defiance saw the skipper finally fall to a burning arrow with his name on it which was chipped weakly to short extra.

With the remnants of his comrades scattered around him Chafey battled on with one incredible over going for 16. The Beamers thin ray of hope was dashed an over later as the valiant Chafey was bowled (in an all round man-of-the-match-worthy effort) for 49.

The chance of victory was gone but could we survive the remaining 11 overs. Isaac, Andrew Eaton and Jonners were all that stood between Portslade and victory.
A fine innings by Isaac including two beautiful leaves for 4 byes was not enough sadly to stall the inevitable for long. A spitting delivery with extra bounce caught the shoulder of Eaton's bat and a shorter ball was missed by Isaac. Jonners, bereft of partners could do nothing but surrender and was lost amongst the swarms of victorious Blackfoot and Sioux.

It wasn't until later that the reason for our defeat became obvious. As the Beamers collectively licked wounds and drank the bar dry of on tap bitter the victorious Portslade were back on the pitch practising with a stump for a bat and and fielding like their lives depended on it.
But in the evening sunshine with the youngsters dashing about it felt right as a Beamer to be sitting back reflecting on the game with a glass of " Fursty Ferret" to hand.

Siddo

Wall of Spin (c) Demolished in a Game of Two Halves

After a typically Beameresque opening (The Beamers plus oppo turn up at East Brighton. Spare oppo turn up at Preston Park. Skipper gets phonecall from Musso notifying him about location of spare oppo in case he needs them. Team agree that Musso seems to be losing it. Musso feels negative vibes and phones skipper again to mention an email he sent to spare oppo in March cancelling fixture...), the match started on time at 14:30, with A&E losing the toss and The Beamers being invited to bat by the Southwater skipper on a decent looking pitch in lovely and sunny East Brighton in a 40 overs game.

Scoring proved tricky in conditions conducive to swing against tight bowling and energetic fielding – at least, that's what was reported by a steady stream of batsmen trooping back to the hutch. With a few wobbles along the way, a steady knock by Pete and some excellent hitting by Billy (40) and Ben (45 no), married with a late flurry of silky strokes by God (regaining his touch delightfully), were taking us towards a defendable total when disaster struck.

No, I'm not referring to Maf's inability to distinguish between making use of his abilities (his glorious drive for four off his first ball) and being The Entertainer (getting out again swishing across the line a couple of balls later). Even worse than this, the rain clouds which had been threatening to deposit their load on lovely (and now rather less sunny) East Brighton proceeded to do so. So instead of The Beamers' 151 off 35 overs being Ben and Gordy's launch pad to something special (and with A&E and Jonners champing at the bit, who knows what glorious heights could have been reached?), it became the target for Southwater to chase.

Imagine the turmoil the skipper felt as the rain clouds cleared and the Southwater openers strode out to bat – our only seamer was Gordy, with the Wall of Spin (c) to follow and a red ball of soap without the rope to bowl with...

But glory be – Golden Arm strikes in the first over (nice catch, Ben) and a victory looks very much up for grabs. Until we realise that we were up against an Oppo Left-Handed Opener Who Could Actually Bat A Bit. As in, had already got three centuries this season. For their first team. Bugger.

In spite of sterling efforts from Gordy and the Wall of Spin (c) in now terrible bowling conditions, the score rose at an alarming rate, punctuated only by another good catch by Ben off Riggers (not the OL-HOWCABAB unfortunately), a couple of close calls and some comedy fielding by the skipper, including a retrieval of the ball from the second tier of the East Brighton terracing which was hopefully not captured on camera. (Am a little concerned that Siddo, watching on the sidelines, may have been packing a Pentax...)

And then. Too little, too late: chaos. With 20 runs to win, the skipper finally acknowledges his responsibility to contribute to the team's performance and brings himself on. Three overs of Dob generate three wickets (a collector's item stumping from Jonners, and a couple of good catches from Pete and Billy) and with another Riggers victim (thanks to a wonderful catch from Billy) Southwater were suddenly 6 wickets down – best of all, the OL-HOWCABAB was out for 98.

The scores were level: could The Beamers pull off a miraculous tie?

(Controversially, if we bowled them out, would we even win on fewer wickets lost?)

No.

Southwater win by 4 wickets.

P-P-Put Down By Penguins

It augured well: A rare sunny September morning; the Beamers, having been thwarted by capricious weather for most of this season, raring to go on their home turf; a Welsh visiting team who were reported to have had three nights on the lash; Captain Rob Nicholls winning the toss and capitalising on the bound-to-be-frail Welsh by putting them in to face the renowned pairing of Musso and Renshaw.

What followed were the longest 2 and a ½ hours of this scribe’s life. Early forays were promising, the Pwllheli Penguins pinned down by bowling straight and true. Then! Tragedy struck on Renshaw’s run-in; reduced to a canter, it was immediately apparent that a muscle was strained or torn, and his action consequently reduced to Dob. The Beamers’ mood slumped, and fell further when Jim Kerr – having spent the years since his last appearance for the Beamers plying his skills in cricketing backwaters like Australia – showed that time had indeed dulled his razor-sharp fielding skills, as he let a crawler go through for four.

Some clever bowling by Musso claimed the first wicket, but the going was hard, and against a talented Welsh strikeforce the Beamers were leeking (sorry, couldn’t resist…) too many unnecessary runs. Young Ben Rigby, taking Kerr’s lead, let a few through his normally-reliable fingers, Johnners at wicket-keeper let a few through his normally-reliable legs, and as time passed and the eyes repeatedly followed the ball towards the boundary, a figure was spotted; yes, the Dobmeister himself was observing the action, his tightly-folded arms indicating his displeasure, his scowl directed at the selectors…

Wickets fell oh-so-slowly – Gordon Young sporadically worked his magic by turning them this way and that – and the runs game quickly, and spectacularly; one six hit off Kerr is still travelling back down the M4. However, Kerr’s revenge came immediately with a contender for ball of the day - a beautiful Yorker - and his consistent probing line and length was an inspiration, some light amidst the gloom.
It was now apparent that the Welsh were not content to have spent three days drinking, and were opening the cans with zeal, whilst further undermining Beamers’ confidence by batsman-umpire chatting in their vowel-free language then laughing; the joke was on us, but we couldn’t understand the punchline. To cap it all, they appeared to be amusing themselves by directing their fours towards little girls cycling around the ground, like shooting fairground ducks.

Just before 4 o’clock, Mussett returned to the attack and used his well-honed craft to scupper another boyo; however a total of 210 certainly spoiled the otherwise faultless spread supplied by Pret-a-Rigby. My favourite was the chicken and chutney, a solid-yet-spicy combination surrounded by a hint of salad and a moist brown bread.

The Welsh continued their psychological warfare, with more cans opened and one of their number taking to the field wearing a comedy hat. No matter! Rigby and Pete Bailey were opening, so Maf at No.3 could put his feet up. Alas, the ball had started to move – a trait hardly seen since 1.45pm – and a beauty took Bailey out. Maf, for the 2nd week running, demonstrated his ability to stay at the crease and grind out a draw by swinging at a wrong’un and quickly returning to the bosom of his ecstatic teammates. Around this time the Captain remembered to tell some Beamers that he’d agreed with the Penguins that they could play 12 fielders, a charitable act akin to the taxpayer bailing out hedge fund managers.

Some also questioned Captain Nicholl’s selection of yours truly at No.4, including yours truly, and a few nervous prods gave substance to the worries; a slow but solid 13 covered a mishit by Rigby to mid off, a plum LBW for Nicholls, and a lively 14 from Ali that ended with a poorly-chosen lifter off a bit of Welsh Dob. The ‘higher order’ were gone.

Gordy followed soon after, LBW courtesy of a lifted finger from Maf that the Welsh hardly appealed for. Siddo turned up with children to urge the Beamers on, and was soon joined by the injured but otherwise physically perfect God Rigby, plaintively crying ‘What’s going on? WHAT’S GOING ON??!’ Beamers looked away, embarrassed, sheepish (could that count as another Welsh gag?).

By now one of the Penguins was visibly drunk, but against this flagrant breech of good sportsmanship and respect two Beamers nobly tried to make a contest of the day itself – a difficult task – and achieve the much less-contested accolade of Beamer’s Man of the Match. Showing fortitude, patience, tenacity and a sound cricketing brain, Musso and Kerr showed the higher order how to do it, momentarily worrying the opposition into thinking that the game could be spun out to a wholly-undeserved draw.
It was not to be, Musso going down to a ball that hardly rose off the pitch, and a brave Renshaw’s now hardly-moving leg ensuring that his usually nimble in-crease footwork was AWOL. Small consolation was offered by a total of 99 – which would have won last week’s game – and the skipper’s observation that we have been walloped by a group of Welsh drunks could not be gainsaid. A long – if hardly full – season showed on the Beamer’s countenance and demeanour throughout the day, and it is left to those lucky enough to be selected for Twineham, Wineham and Dine’em to salvage some pride for the team.

"It's in the bag" - Watersfield 14th September

I've tried to write a witty, uplifting match report that somehow captured the tension and excitement this match produced but failed. In the end Musso's succinct message couldn't be bettered:

Watersfield Nightmare!

Its amazing how having to score 17 runs can suddenly seem like having to score 170 to win the game.

Oh the humanity!

Siddo can be excused ( i suppose ) for being dismissed by what was said to be the best ball of the day. It was quite good i suppose, slipping between dimensions as it did on its way down the wicket and re-emerging from a wormhole to dip, turn and lift through a 5cm 'Gate' into middle stump.
Steven Hawkings has been informed of the event and was lost for words......

I hold myself in contempt for feeling completely comfortable and then chipping a leg side delivery into the hands of Watersfields best fielder.

Maf, you just need to listen to me. Unfortunately the 'take the lid off' approach that had been planned when we got past 50 with no wickets down probably didn't help.

Esso was conscious of having to score at least 8 off every delivery when only 0.03 of a run was actualy required.

Smith decided that rather than kicking the ball away he would let it roll gently onto his back foot which was planted firmly in front of middle stump.

John Riches will have to go down in the book as 'did not bat'.

Anyone not mentioned above, however, did a good job.

Beamers lose by one run

"Don't worry Simon this has been planned like a military operation."

How quickly skippers words to his opening bat Private Smith seemed to collapse into dust as not even out of the carpark before the game Beamers captain for the day, going under the codename Burt Reynolds, appeared to have little idea where the kit was. Any semblance of credibility was further undermined when 23 Beamers , their 22 wives, their 21 lovers and off spring all turned up to the Dripping Pan en masse. Maf had excess baggage and so a clumsy quick cull ensued. On the positive side Cat looked in fine fettle, the Beamers youth policy were keen and some old faces were welcomed back onto the teat. However dark clouds loomed above like Thora Hird's hips.


St Michael's narrowly won the toss and Beamers were put into bat at 2.13pm BST. By 3.59pm BST they were all out for 85. Lateral swing, poor shot selection and niavety all claiming motherhood of this low scoring child. Field Marshall Francis Rigby's measured knock the only outward display of resistance to a spirited bowling effort from Lewes.

Tea was served. Tea was ate. Frank gave way to Musso and doom begat defeat. Skippers sheet of A4 tactics was scribbled on as attack the only option. Burt Reynolds once graced a film called The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas and as I scribbled I dearly wished I was in that little magical house too, and I would not have cared if it was actually in Goole. Cricket seeming to have lost its sense of abracadabra.

St Michael's took to the crease with some arrogant gusto, reverse sweeping attempts off opening bowlers never steady skippers heart rate. The low total was reached with three days to spare. Again however there was some silver lining as Smiffie skittled wickets at almost metronomic regularity, the first bowl of each of his overs.

The scorebook was handed over to Musso, team photos were snapped and Johnners sensitively asked skipper for his subs and match fee. As I handed over the £30 I felt ruefully how it could have been more wisely and recklessly spent in any little house in Texas.

beam on

maf

New Season, New Beamers , New Boobs and Panties

With the sight and sound of the IPL Cheerleaders still resonating around the minds of some of the squad, Brighton Beamers CC began the 2008 season with a tricky away game against Southern Cross at Horsdean. Despite the motions passed and the new resolve pledged around improving communication and organisation at the AGM, preparation for the match was marred by what can only be poetically described as a “fuck up” in getting an agreed time to start play. Fingers were pointed, aspersions flung and rockets prepared for the tired arse of an absent absent-minded old skool Beamer. On the positive side a handsome new scorebook was available, its purchase no indication of guilt as to who had lost the previous one. (Last time I recall it was in the back of Musso’s car, anyway there’s no need here for spurious recriminations right now so let's get on with the match report.)

The Beamers welcomed three new members to the fold - Ben, Dave and James Dean - as well as welcoming A&E’s new boots and Frank's new circus like warm up routine.

" God morphs into Harold Shipman and appears to want to join the Circus..tame those lions"

The sky was blue, the sun shone and all was good in Beamerland. The toss was then lost and eyebrows raised, as, put into bat on a damp pitch, some Beamers thought their place in the order did not reflect previous close of season form with the willow. Of more concern was the state of The Cats’ kit and the hint of whisky breath. Whilst admitting he had been heavily on the lash with some young kittens the night before he assured comrades that his ability behind the stumps would remain the same.

God and Pete opened and strode out to the crease with the purpose of lions ready to devour antelope, wildebeest and the Southern Cross opening attack: guile and artistry their chosen cutlery for the feast. Unfortunately a spoon would have been preferable as the spongy pudding of a wicket saw God back to the pavilion for an unusually low score. Enter the entertaining Woodworm sponsored number 3, and although the game was young he evidently felt the need to push the run rate along. A few mistimed swipes and some boundaries, which those Bangalore beauties no doubt would have swooned and cooed over, raised the tempo. It was not to last; the calming influence of Pete evaporated with his own departure and ‘The Entertainer’ played across the line once too often - out for forty - ouch!!. A&E sagely noting that any score on ‘that’ pitch is worth double. Newbies Ben, Dave and James Dean all tried to keep the pace up-beat but the pitch and the bowling was unforgiving and unforgivable. Beamers 56 for 5 and only 70 minutes gone.

The sky became greyer and the sun became shy. Darkness loomed like an uninvited Uncle on Xmas day. Never mind - hope was not yet a distant cousin: Marlon, Caveheart and Siddo were still full of intent, Sunday lunch and something to prove. Alas and alack their efforts were not to bear much more fruit and when the Beamers' final partnership of jonners and dobmeister ended like a sorry romance we woke up and realised we had posted only 90 for the oppo to chase.

"The Cat ponders the Beamers score and keeps upright....note the fresh fleshy buttocks leftfield"

One sensed that the antelope and wildebeest were skipping smugly to the waterfront - yes even the wildebeest seemed to skip . But how glorious it is to see God give the nod to Cave and Marlon, and to witness their untamed purpose. With an opening attack like these soul brothers how could we fail to score on the dancefloor. Perhaps a little too untamed though as Marlon begins the season with a ‘Harmiston’ that even the The Cat can’t save. However the Beamers are, as ever, “on their toes, looking lively and staying focused”. Pride the only emotion as each fielder emoted belief in their capacity to make a difference. Obama supporters in North Carolina may chant “Yes We Can!” with gusto and brio but for a few minutes in Patcham on Sunday so did The Brighton Beamers Cricket Club and somehow it meant more. And then HOWZAT!! A fantastic caught and bowled by Caveheart was followed by an awesome skittling of the stumps by Marlon. Game On?

Canny as ever, God ensured slip placement was inch perfect and that during the tea break no wayward Beamer was to entertain the back of the pavilion with urine. “There are toilets inside” . Was it the tea break, the chocolate buns, the weak greased tea or the grandiose surroundings that broke the new found belief? Despite burning the Southern Cross to 65 for 6 (approximately) Beamers dropped some hard catches that could have altered history. Victory was not to be. An awesome caught and bowled by James Dean, some excellent fielding from Ben, Siddo and Marlon were all to no avail. The talented Southern Cross late order dispatched the tiring Beamers for the required etc etc with four overs remaining. Whilst some might rue this defeat, there was enough to ensure that Palmers will quake again at the thought that next Sunday a sharper, more battle hardened and hungry Beamer-shaped lion will roar at Hove Rec. Viva The Beamers!! Viva those sweethearts of Bangalore!!

Maf