Brasted & Sundridge – Home – Won by default

Having heard the kind of form that Buss and The Boys are in at the moment, Brasted did the only sensible thing and ran for the hills.

Old Ethanians Granby III – Home – Won

After what might best described as an average week weather wise (average meaning dull, grey and rainy), Saturday began in bright sunshine. An omen? Breakfast was very tasty and I swear that the orange juice sparkled. The paperboy even managed to deliver the right paper! All was well with the world. So it was with a glad heart that I dragged out my bag and began to find my cricket gear – yes, today marked the return of Fennell from nearly a whole seasons absence due to injury. Just in time for the last game!

The phone rang, it was Buss. Our demon strike bowler and all round good egg – Wynne, was stuck in Sevenoaks without any transport. No problem, our ever helpful scorer was dispatched to go and fetch him. It was that kind of day. Another omen?

The Usual Suspects had gathered in The Clubhouse and Ray was cooking up a storm. Everyone seemed cheerful and there was a buzz of excitement in the air. The sun began to climb and it was turning into an magnificent day. The only thing that caused us some concern was that there was the possibility that Basher might wear shorts!

The first disaster struck before a ball was bowled – Granby turned up with an umpire and we had to toss. We lost and were put into bat which was a little surprising as the temperature was climbing towards 30°. There was no way I’d opt to field in heat like that. Still, they might have a plan and with a growing sense of unease Evans and Cook strode to the crease. Both batsmen were chosen for their steady and unflappable approach and they didn’t disappoint – the first five overs yielding 7 runs. Then Evans decided to change tack and blasted 10 off the next over including an effortless six. Could this be the start of something big? No – two overs later, he let a ball go down leg and the keeper with infinite optimism appealed for a stumping which was turned down. Phew. Oh no, Evans (thinking he’d survived) wandered out of his crease and the keeper had another go. He was given out. Everyone looked at one another and knew what was coming. There are no nuclear fall-out shelters in Wrotham so we had to made do with cowering under tables and waited …… nothing …….. still nothing …… a brave soul pops his head up to see Evans stroll back to the pavilion and take off his pads. This was very unnerving but one by one we all reappeared and the game continued. Young Smith was next in and next out all in the same ball. I was then the turn of Harvey Junior to try and avoid the ignominy of the bowlers hat-trick. His first ball was a vicious inswinging yorker which he somehow managed to dig out. Normality returned and we steadied the ship.

Then more bad luck – Harvey went to sweep a ball to leg and was struck on the pads – out LBW. There was a collective inhale as even at 100 yards we could see that this was a harsh decision at best. The bowler even had the good grace to look embarrassed. We were 37 for 3. Buss was the next man in. He’d been having a bit of a revival with the bat this season and coupled with the in-form Cook there was a feeling of optimism (although we were still a bit nervous of Evans). And so it proved to be – both players rotating the strike and upping the run-rate to nearly 6. Then with the total on 83 and Buss beginning to look comfortable he played a leg glance that hit high on the bat and he was caught on the boundary for 19. The very next over, the umpire once more joined in our collapse with yet another harsh decision and Cook was out LBW for a very well earned 37. We were 83 for 5 off 22 overs. This was not good.

The next pair in were our resident overseas players (or foreigners) – Bailey who by his own exacting standards had not been batting well (unsurprising really as he hadn’t picked up a bat in some years) and Fennell who was still one handed and under orders from the doctor not to play. Faces fell, hearts sank, hopes plummeted. It’s at times like these when true characters are revealed and what did we see – they are both very stubborn. Neither was going to give in and so the fight back began. Bailey with singles and Fennell (who is fundamentally lazy) with boundaries and then Fennell with singles and Bailey with boundaries. Together these two toiled in the sun for an hour and a half and put on 124 before Bailey was caught for 53. I must say it was very thoughtful of Buss to arrange a flyby by the Red Arrows to mark his maiden 50. Speaking of military jets, at one point both French and US fighters were dispatched to investigate reports of missiles being launched in the vicinity. They soon turned tail when they realised they couldn’t compete with the firepower of these two batsmen. The RAF sent a Hercules! We were 207 for 6 off 39. Much more respectable.

Burton came in next and received a most bizarre ball that started well outside off, swung down leg and cut back in to clip the leg stump. With six overs to go the Boy Bryce joined the now weary Fennell (well, he’d been batting for two hours) and the rules were explained – no quick singles. Two balls later, the rules were explained again – I really mean it – no quick singles! Bryce seemed to take the hint and settled for hitting a series of mighty boundaries and together they put on 52 for the final partnership, leaving us with a total of 259. A run rate of nearly 6 an over.

After tea, Buss was seen to go behind the pavilion and the scorching sunshine disappeared as if a switch had been flipped. Now I’m not saying that he is some sort of weather god but have you seen it rain on him? No, me neither. So, on a balmy summer’s evening, Burton took the new ball and provided some scorchers of his own. As with most of the season, he was unplayable. So much so, the batsmen weren’t even able to get close enough to edge the ball. It hardly seems fair that all this effort should go unrewarded. Wynne, on the other hand, started off with a wicket in his first over, which is always nice! Due to tight bowling and excellent fielding, the Granby innings seemed to dawdle along with a series of overs going for one or two runs interspersed with a couple of edges for four. They got to 38 for 2 when Buss played his trump card – Smith the Unknown. In the nets, young Smith had fired in some quick but wildly inaccurate deliveries and so the field spread out in anticipation – how rude! We needn’t have worried though, as he gave us a demonstration of very accurate offspin, which slowed the run rate even further. With bowlers the calibre of Evans, Harvey Senior and Buss still to come, the outcome was never in doubt. Runs trickled and wickets fell and Granby simply ran out of overs. A truly professional display by Wrotham to close out the game and score the points. All of the bowlers chipped in with spells thatkept the runs well below half the required rate – Burton (8-0-28-1), Wynne (9-0-17-1), Smith (7-0-34-2), Evans (6-1-12-1), Harvey (11-3-32-2), Buss (6-1-18-2) and Bailey (3-0-15-0).

Man of the Match: this one has to be shared – the two foreigners, Bailey and Fennell, for showing us the meaning of awkwardness and refusing to go quietly. The runs they piled on gave us a base to control the game.

Moment of the Match: two really, both with their elements of luck. The first was when Fennell launched a simply huge 6 that cleared the pavilion and landed inches away from the Rolls Royce parked down the road – the luck of the Irish avoiding what could have been a costly bill for the club. The second was one of those “funny until you realise the seriousness of the situation” moments. Bailey smashed a 6 into the trees over mid-wicket. Lost ball. While Harvey Senior and his magic stump searched for the ball, we got another ball and the game continued. The very next delivery, Bailey smashed a 6 into the trees over mid-wicket. Lost ball. We laughed until we realised that the ball had hit Harvey in the face. A mere mortal would have succumbed but these Harveys are made of sterner stuff, although their language leaves something to be desired! The luck of the Zimbabweans, meaning the ball was an inch lower and thus avoided a costly funeral.