Slick Rick

Well done to Rick Bryce for raining over £300 for the cricket club by having certain parts of his body waxed!

Following the defeat by Old Gravendiansissmsms last Saturday, the wonder boy Bryce took a few for the boys and had many strips of hair ripped off his milky white body. Rick raised over £300 for the cause and was cheered on by many revellers in the George in Wrotham. Punters who paid £10 got to rip a strip off themselves. Rick is now very bald in the following areas; His legs! His back! His arms! And even his Arm Pits! Another £100 would have seen the good old sack and crack go for a burton too!

Rick, who was slipping and sliding everywhere after, commented, “ Ouch! “. Asked why he had done this and what the inspiration was, he answered, “ Ouch! “.

Rick, also known as Ricky, now faces several months of rehabilitation. His long term girlfriend Amy commented, “ He is still my Ricky. I don’t care that he has no hair, I will stick with him through this and give him my support all the way until he is back on his feet again. “ Amy, who is due to give birth to their first child very soon, added, “ It will be weird having a baby with more hair than my Ricky, but we will cope. He is a strong person and he always has my shoulder to cry on if it gets too much for him. I just really hope he doesn’t slip out of bed at night or fall off the sofa when watching TV. “

Rick will still turn out for the Dragons and the opposition can rest assured he will be a slippery character to get out!

We have thought of some good old tunes that he could walk to the crease to;

Born Slippy – Underworld
Slide on Time – Blackbox
Hair We Go Again – Whitesnake
Ticket to Slide – The Beatles
Hairbreaker – Dionne Warwick
Wax of My Tears – Smokey Robinson
It’s a Skin – Pet Shop Boys
Smooth Criminal – Michael Jackson
Killing Me Softly – The Fugees

Did you witness Rick’s terrible ordeal? What do you think of having your whole body waxed? Do you know any other songs that Rick could walk out to bat to?

Triumph

Snodland, away, won

The Georgian’s Triumph at Snodland, as told by BBC Five Live’s Stuart Hall

Thunder, bang, lighting, flash, rain, pours, the withering weathermen pose their fears. Its Saturday, dawn breaks like 15 reds on a snooker table, clouds gather. Bleakness looks to gate crash the party. But no, rain rain go away, come back another day, it works, clouds disperse, the sunny sun says hello. On they go, the mighty, the brave, the wounded but not defeated, the gallant Georgian’s from Wrothamshire.

An infantryman is slain before battle commences, the crusading army reduced to 10, but they fight, they fight, they fight like they’ve never fought before. Hoorah, 11. Our Irish cousin, the pride of the Fennell clan, brings his trusted friend Andros to conquer whatever beast, man or animal, may get in their way. The arrival at Snodland, once the scene of a fierce local battle between the Soodnan’s and the mighty Saxon settlers of Lercy. The victorious Soodnan’s laid their foundations and so their children’s childrens childrens childrens childrens childrens grandchildren, went on the war path with mighty Dragons of Georgia. Pitter patter, hop scotch. In God we trust, go forth my friend.

Spin spin spin, land, spin. Its heads, the Dragons are put to the test with the willow. Armour up men, Captain Buss, confidently, assuringly, proudly orders his fine men. The air is poised with determination, the smell of beads of sweat start to fill Gladiatorial cages beneath the Coliseum. Wrotham! Wrotham! Wrotham!, the crowd cheer in anticipation of the contest like sharks at a feeding frenzy. Behold, the batsmen appear. Armoured and ready.

Ward and Cook, lead the charge. Charge! Who cometh before them shall feel their might, let the winds of justice push me forward for I give my soul to the blessing of angels. Crosshairs at the ready, the bowler takes aim, left foot, followed quickly by the right foot, then left again, then right, left, right, left, right…he bowls. The ground is silent. The war has begun.

El Captiano Cook, not of the Buss kind, but of the James kind, the great explorer who discovered the green and gold of down under. He drives, its 4, the Georgians are charging. The contest is tense, the air is clear. Eyes stare. Teeth grind. Minds tinker. The maker above strikes his wrath. Ward. Down. Blood is drawn. Vultures fly low above. Comrades and Crusaders come to his aid. If he goes, we all go. One for all and all for one. He rises, he is strong as an Ox. He will rest, but he will avenge his injury with honor and rage.

Enter the creator of all things Buss. David. An accomplished veteran of many campaigns. He has no fears, he stroll to the arena. Takes on all who will dare. God is angry, the dark thunderous clouds gather above, his tears of emotion start to fall, he roars, but Buss answers him back with two glorious boundaries. God falls silent. He bows to Buss. Arrow to the heart, a fallen soldier. Cook departs.

Now hear this, now hear this. The Irish are in town. The Snodlanders stand back in fear. They’ve seen this man before, heard of the legendary tales from other settlers. This Fennell. Russell Fennell. Elegance. Confidence. Hickory Dickory Dock. Its magic. He is the rock. Buss the Creator falls. A victim of a stray arrow. He is down, but is he out, only time will tell. Enter the arena, his apprentice. Stacy. He has lived for this moment. He has the look of vengeance. Whoever shall slay his father, shall reap the whirlwind. The bowler hangs his head, he knows he has a fight on his hands. A clap of Thunder? No, it’s the first blow in a bitter feud. Buss strikes the first glancing blow of an edged four. The crowd cheer. There is justice in this sometimes vile land, where poverty is bare and lives are hindered.

Fennell and Buss take control. There is no answer. One small step for man. Over in the corner of the arena, a young starling pecks at a used watering can, he starts gentle at first, but then he rages with rage. Poor thing. Speaking of poor things, Fennell is stitched up like a kipper, as if thrown into a deep, dark, almost bottomless, un-escapable pit. Shot down, in a blaze of glory. The red, angry glint in his eye on his way back to HQ says it all. Fire and brimstone, his rage is furious, his demeanor exemplary.

The boy Bryce. Rick. Ricky. Rickster. Little, tricky dicky. The saviour of battles forth gone. A magician is being groomed. The agile, nimble Rick Bryce. He plays this innings with more caution, playing second fiddle to Captain Buss. Strike me down with passions of fire. Buss is out. 43 of the good ones well earned by our courageous skipper. Long may he reign over us. Time is running out like a leaking coconut. The young guns, Bryce and Fennell, Morecambe and Wise, Cannon and Ball. Go steaming ahead, but Bryce loses his trusted partner in crime, Starskey loses Hutch, Cagney loses Lacey, Batman loses Robin. Shock, weep, despair. But he’ll be back, to fight another day.

Not to crusade is to not crusade at all, say the Gods. But crusade again did brave Ward. Innings over, a total of 183. Defend this great honor.

Tea was nice, in fact pleasant. Thunder in air, not from grey clouds. Not from Fennell on his slain. From Captain Buss. Sandwiches of the cheese and chicken kind, ruined, devastated, by, by, by pickle. For miles around people hear his response and war cry…” lets beat these pickle loving barbarians!”

Innings starts. Whats this. A dibble? A dabble? Cook, the protector of the missed shot, opening the bowling? Trundle? Up and down. Whats this? Fennell, the protector of all that’s green, opening the bowling? Flight and guile? Hello, hello, a mere 29 runs only conceded from 10 overs. Our Lord, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Then enter the wizards. They seek them here, they seek them there, they seek them, everywhere. Buss of St David, and Earl of Harveyshire. Each end. Wickets, wickets, wickets. Catches from the stump guardian, St Peter the Great.

The war, the contest is near to its end. Harvey has destroyed their will to fight, Buss has condemned them to oblivion. We shall not, we shall not be moved. Land of hope and Glory, Rule Britannia. The mighty Dragons of Wrothamshire, the Defenders of the St Georgians, have won yet another battle. Scars are evident, some irreparable, but the brave crusaders are ready, ready to fight to the bitter end. For Wrotham is the kingdom, the power and the glory, Georgian forever and ever, Amen.

D. Cook

Man of the Match.
Toughy this week S.Buss for his stable 43 which laid the foundation for a strong total , D.Buss for art and guile with bowling figures of 8-4-8-3 , N.Harvey for his demolishion of Snodlands top order with figures of 8-5-19-4 . Hard to say but Klondykes 3 cat like reflexes behind the stumps get my vote , it was almost as if he was plucking £50 notes from thin air.

Moment of the Match
Well Nick Nick , you obviously didn’t read the memo about head butting a cricket ball ??? it read something a little like this ……. WHEN BATTING USE BAT NOT HEAD !!!!!

The Cook Report

Wrotham Vs Bromley 3rd XI
Saturday 27th may 2006

 

 
Wrotham were very unlucky not to win this close encounter, losing with just an over and a bit to go and fielding just 10 players.

On an overcast and damp day, the conditions were always going to play a factor. Bromley 3rds won the toss and elected to bowl first. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that with all the week’s rain, the pitch would be nice and juicy for any pace of bowler.

Wrotham openers Evans and Cook strode out to do battle and were more than equal to anything the talented Bromley opening bowlers could throw at them. Going was difficult but there were no real scares within the first 8 or so overs. Whilst attempting a drive, Cook twisted his right knee and was forced to hobble around more or less on one leg. The injury is an old occurrence of a freak base jumping accident in which Cook’s parachute didn’t open and he somehow managed to survive the 15ft drop from his first floor bathroom window.

Cook decided to retire hurt and rest his knee rather than waste his wicket. This brought the well inform Jim ‘ Jimmy ‘ Alexander to the crease. Going was still tough for Evans and Alexander but both looked comfortable and were looking to open up their shoulders. As soon as it looked as if these two would strive forward the innings, disaster struck. Alexander was bowled whilst trying to clip one to mid wicket. Alexander was disappointed with himself and spent at least a good hour or so shaking his head in disgust with himself saying,” Rupert, you idiot, I said last week not to play that shot. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. “

This brought Stacy Buss to the wicket. The ex Captain was quick to find his feet and started playing some fine shots to support Evans and help build a solid foundation for Wrotham. Around this time the rain began to fall lightly and the pitch was starting to aid the bowlers even further. It was this extra advantage that helped Bromley gain the wickets of first Evans, and then Butler of the Wayne kind also looked comfortable and was unfortunate with his dismissal. This brought Cook back to the crease after some rest and some vitamins. Cook went out to unsettle the consistent spinners. It kind of worked although almost immediately the rain became harder and the players trudged off for shelter.

After the break and tea, Buss and Cook continued to push the score up. Conditions at the wicket were very difficult and it wasn’t pretty out there. Buss’ excellent reverse sweep drew gasps from the 5 strong crowd. Cook was run out by Buss deliberately. Knowing he had a dodgy knee, Buss called a second run that was never there. Enter Davey ‘Woody Wood Woody Woody’ Wood to the crease. Woody didn’t last long and was caught out after skying one from the edge of his woody bat made from wood from a woody oak tree in a large wood in Forest Wood, near Petts Wood. Woody was ‘barking’ mad! He was told to ‘leaf’ it out.

Enter into the fray the entertaining Jason Butler and Stevo Burton. These two certainly lit up a gloomy day and shots were frequent and it helped unsettle the Bromley bowlers. Basher Burton helping himself to 3 magnificent shots to the boundary.

After the fall of Burton and Butler of the Jason kind, stalwart Neil Harvey and rookie Sam Davies frustrated Bromley who were looking to gain extra overs by bowling out Wrotham before the 46 mark. Buss made a brilliant 50 to give Wrotham a respectable total.

So, Bromley were chasing 145 for victory and the rain had stopped and the pitch began to dry, apart from the sogging outfield. Wrotham’s bowlers had to keep it at around 3 an over if possible with a slippery ball. Harvey and Butler of the Jason kind began our defence. Both were doing well but the conditions didn’t help Butler of the Jason kind. Skipper Evans then brought himself on and this gave the Bromley openers cause for concern. Wickets started to fall through some brilliant and hard working bowling by Evans, Harvey and Buss. The fielding within the side was also a highlight. There was the odd lack in concentration but overall, considering the wet conditions, Wrotham were excellent in the field and kept Bromley at the 3 an over mark more or less all innings. Stevo Burton came on to bowl and was causing problems for Bromley. Wrotham were unlucky on many occasion not to take wickets.

A bit of tail wag from Bromley looked to have taken the game away from Wrotham. An excellent one hand stumping from wicketkeeper Cook gave Wrotham some hope and then Buss came up trumps more than once with 2 wickets from full tosses and 1 from a long hop. The wicket from the long hop brought the moment of the day. A top edge saw the ball loop over the keepers head towards young Sam fielding at short fine leg. The ball went quite high in the air, with Sam steadying himself and looking up at the heavens, he caught the ball waist height to give Wrotham a chance of victory. The shear look of amazement on his face at the realisation of his catch was priceless. He was immediately mobbed by his team mates and the biggest, broadest smile you are ever likely to see on a cricket field, lit up the place with the light fading. You could have said Wrotham had 9 plus young Sam, but the rookie didn’t put a foot wrong all game.

Unfortunately Bromley held out and gained the victory with an over or so left. A brave effort by Wrotham and although a defeat, it was seen as one of our better performances in the field. Pick of the bowlers was Neil Harvey who went for just 19 off his allotted 12 overs, gaining 2 wickets. Excellent stuff. Everybody contributed in some way and can take great pride in their performance.