Paul Harris came from L.A. to play village cricket with us. It was everything he hoped for: a perfect green pitch in the sun and a deer park opposite. And exactly what he wanted to get away from: competitiveness, business talk. A pity about the absence of cucumber sandwiches but that is down to Sarah and I have had a word. Our opposition were precisely what Paul imagined: gentlemen all, mostly from Balliol where the team originated, and decked out in a variety of pink and green striped caps and jackets, from the smarter clubs. Their captain, James Rivington, sets the tone. Corinthian in every sense, ensuring that everyone who wants to bat or bowl does, whether they can or not. Although a Magdalene man himself he is a democrat and prepared to rub shoulders with the Balliol men around him. And he defies the years at the crease and in the field. I think he threw overarm at one point, but that might have been an oversight.

I lost the toss in a 35 over game, and we fielded. We opened with Sunil and Dennis. James opened their batting with Coales, and both are fine classical batsmen, but Coales was run out by Adam at square leg, and James was bowled by a beauty from Dennis (who said, modestly, that it would have got better batsmen than Boycott). He also bowled their no. 3, Scudamore, for 8 and despite their excellent keeper / batsman Nasser steadying the ship, they lost quick wickets to terrific balls from Martin Bowden when he came on (both bowled). He also had Brian Berrigan caught brilliantly by Nick Emley for a golden duck, putting him on a hat trick, narrowly missed. The dismissal of Brian was a turning point. He is a very good batsman in a team lacking batting depth, to put it ever so politely.

There was one emotional moment when Martin shouted at Adam at short square leg ON THE SINGLE which one assumes to mean please be vigilant, walk in and stop any possible chance of the batsmen running a quick single. Unfortunately the next ball they ran a quick single. To Adam. Martin said something unflattering to Adam about his dopeyness, laziness and incompetence, which his mother might agree with, but which Adam felt was uncalled for. He was doing his best, it was just not very good.

Nasser, despite a potential match winning 40*, was unable to farm or truly dominate the bowling which remained accurate even when Peter Linthwaite came on. Pete might have got Nasser caught behind if Nasser had been keeping. There were another couple of keeping gaffe’s in an otherwise faultless performance (no byes): a ball was skied off Adam. I shouted MINE. I ran for it like a gazelle. But at the last moment was distracted by the sight of Paul Harris, no offence, and dropped it. The next ball there was a run out chance. With lightening reactions I broke the wicket, which the Laws of Cricket say you must do to effect a run out. But they also state, apparently, that you must have the ball in your gloves at the time and this I had failed to do. But the batsmen were both down my end and luckily the ball ran to a fielder who threw it to Adam. He gathered it at the third attempt and knocked off the bails.

Sunil once again showed his prowess in the field with one brilliant catch off Adam at cover, low and hard, and a sure one off Martin at mid-on. When Martin had 4 wickets and was understandably hoping for his Michelle (Pfeiffer – five fer, geddit?) he let a possibly catching chance from their no. 10 drop harmlessly at his feet. Dennis surmised audibly that Martin had wanted the man’s wicket himself for his Michelle. I cannot believe that a team man like Martin would be interested in such stats.

There was some swashbuckling stuff at the end from their no.s 8 and 10, Evans (21, his highest score ever) and Lane, but in the end despite Nasser they managed only 113. Their slow start, at 44 for 6 they had used up half their overs, had not helped and had put pressure on later batsmen.

Lunch as always was excellent. Marred by Adam ruminating on the distinction between crossdressing and transvestism which is not the sort of talk Balliol men want to hear over their assiette froide. He himself is a Cambridge man and thus errs on the louche side. Tea was also provided by Sarah and if she eschewed fancy sandwiches she had gone to the trouble of unwrapping the Kit Kats.

We opened with the standard pairing of Emley and Morris and once again it paid dividends. While Nick saw off the penetrative bowling of Brian, Rupert whacked the loose ones the other end, one majestic sweep for 4 the epitome of class and timing. Eventually, after six 4s, Rupert was caught in the deep one handed for 36, top score, and Nick went for 33 (three 4s and a 6) after some purist drives. We did not wobble, Dennis (26*) came in and hit some fearsome boundaries and it was left to Paul Harris (10*) to finish his agreeable day in the country by hitting the winning boundary. Paul is a noted agency photographer and his snaps of the day will be circulated free of copyright restrictions.

All in all a lovely day if not a close finish. Dennis strummed on Pete’s guitar, some lingered on the porch with a substance and a beer. Rupert and Dennis are now away until September and will be missed.

We have played the Erratics for 20 years or so, and it is nice to play a team with a similar demographic to our own. But age has not wearied them nor the years condemned, to judge by the sight of the sprightly James, Chris and Brian et al. What is their secret? No sex before a game I was told, not for a month before. Not a difficult choice for some of us.