V&A PLAYERS: Dennis de Caires (captain), Adam Jacot, Nick Emley, Christiaan Jonkers, Ross Ashcroft, Chris Mounsey-Thear, Lachlan Neiboer, Nick Constantine, Phil Goodliffe, Rob Taylor, Andy Jones.

The V&A Cricket Club is fortunate enough to have one or two Vice Presidents who are pleasingly quotable. The Rt Hon Sir John Major is one such individual. In April 1993; during a speech to The Conservative Group for Europe (sorry Ross), Major said: ‘Fifty years on from now, Britain will still be the country of long shadows on Cricket grounds, warm beer, invincible green suburbs, dog lovers and (…) as George Orwell said, ‘Old maids bicycling to holy communion through the morning mist’ and, if we get our way, Shakespeare will still be read, even in school.’

Well, Saturday’s beer was cold, Shakespeare is still read in school (usually badly, though) and we are indeed a club of canine enthusiasts. What he left out was that we’d also still be the country where, in May, it is common to find 22 flanneled men hiding from a persistent downpour, in a wooden hut. Alas, we were among the many who succumbed to the fickle will of nature last weekend.

The Authors XI travel with a dedicated umpire (the cynic in me thinks this a cunning ruse to quell fears of leg before shouts being fairly judged… more on that later). However, oppo captain Charlie Campbell did tell us at tea that Lachlan Nieboer’s opening spell (0-13), which was bowled with excellent control and no shortage of aggression, was one of the best he’d seen in a long while. I suspect this has something to do with Mr. Campbell feeling a touch guilty for immortalising Lachlan in his book, ‘Herding Cats’ (which if you haven’t read, you should). Lachlan and I are early birds. We got up to the ground early and had a net. You might think practising for success smacks of vulgar ambition. In mine and Lachlan’s case, you would probably be right. He has a total loathing for any batsman prepared to face him without a helmet on. I have a total loathing for anyone who bowls fast enough to warrant it. He put one past my nose and I told him I liked my teeth where they were. He then, gleefully, did it again and accused me of being ‘so old school’ because I bat in my cap. Never mind what I accused him of being, but I have a potty mouth. I pitied their openers when, under a steely sky, Dennis lost the toss and the V&A were invited to take the field first.

Chris Mounsey-Thear (0-9) was metronomic with ball in hand at the opposite end. He beat the edge of both the left and right-handed openers with alarming regularity and was unlucky not to take a wicket. The energy was high and after nine overs the Authors were 22-0. The balance, it seemed, teetered toward The V&A.

Dennis de Caires (3-14) is a good captain. I don’t say this because I wish to be selected the next time he’s skip (he’s off to Barbados for a month so, frankly, I couldn’t give a toss), but because he defies the general attitude that pacemen don’t captain well. It was a great decision to hold himself back as the sixth bowler of the attack. He replaced my rather erratic stuff and struck immediately, removing the opener Broom (37), who batted with grit and style. The new batsman, Thacker, came to the crease and caused rather a stir among our side. He is the living embodiment of the schoolboy coaching mantra that one must bellow at the non-striker between the wickets – if only to unsettle the fielder at whom you’ve struck the ball. This he did with operatic gusto. The morning session ended with The Authors XI on 97-1 after 21 overs.

Luncheon was provided by Jane Emley, and what a lunch it was! Nick Emley claims that he had a hand in it. But when pressed for comment, he admitted that he had carved all of the meats. I knew something was up when he called the coleslaw ‘Russian Salad’. But then again, we are going to Salisbury on tour with Agents Ashcroft and Mounsey-Thear in a couple of weeks, so Nicks mind might have been on other things. There is backbench gossip that Jane is now horrified her efforts have sparked culinary competitiveness at The V&A. She has been quoted saying ‘I was just doing my job!’. Well, you did it marvellously, Jane, so thank you very much for your efforts!

Conversation ran to Dennis and his impending retirement as a professor. He seems to be looking forward to it, and did say that it’s nice to be excited about something ‘at his age’. I was a little shocked at this having met his daughter last weekend, who is to be married soon. Rob Taylor asked him if they still handed out gold pocket-watches for that sort of thing (retirement, you understand, rather than the marriage of one’s daughter). Dennis said he hates all that stuff and doesn’t want a fuss made over him. I raised an eyebrow and made a mental note to order the Haynes Retirement Manual and some wrapping paper. Lachlan and Christiaan were still bickering over the bowling averages and which of them had deserved the award for last season when the rest of us took to the field to begin the afternoon session.

Andy Jones (3-21) came on and struck almost immediately. Dennis kept them quiet from the other end and eventually struck twice in two balls, for the second week in a row. Within four overs of lunch, The Authors had lost three wickets for ten runs.

                Interlude: ‘The Sledge Sessions, Vol. 2’

It is with great sadness that I must report no (audible) expletives exchanged between our men and theirs. However, before the game, Christiaan had clearly decided to light a little fire under the seat of Mr. Nieboer. We’ve touched on the excellence of Charlie Campbell’s book, ‘Herding Cats’, but not on the details of Lachlan’s part in it. Charlie is kind enough to call Lachlan ‘a decent quick’, but suggested that his follow-through was ‘theatrical’ (it is) and that he showed disdain to the batsman by ‘lingering between deliveries to restore order to his hair’ (he does). In summary, he is the Narcissus of the V&A’s travelling circus. I read this to him before their innings, and he claimed to have been ‘rather flattered’ by his bowling being dubbed ‘high and wide’. Yet when Charlie took the crease, Lachlan took the opportunity to creep forward to silly mid-off and sweep back his hair in theatrical fashion, whilst Christiaan tried to bowl. When I said his hair looked fine, we all had a chuckle.

Oh, and Christiaan threw a strop over an LBW again. He assured me that it was hitting middle halfway up, and hit the pad before the bat. Given that the batsman was on the drive, I felt it unwise to argue.

The innings wound up with The Authors XI at 166-7, from their 35 overs. Dennis deserves a round of applause for using eight bowlers during the innings and taking three wickets at an average of 4.2 (you’d think running in to bowl might be something he’d look forward to in retirement, really). Everything was set for a bullish chase of 167 on a wicket that offered enough for bowler and batsman alike. It had just started to spit a little bit when we jogged up the steps of the pavilion. Tea was to be delayed until after our innings because the weather looked rather ominous.

Unfortunately, the rain got heavier. The Authors valiantly took to the field. Their opening bowler, Tom Holland, slipped in his delivery stride after a few balls. The safety of the pavilion beckoned. Not even their hardy Northern contingent were prepared to stick at it. Sebastian Faulks told me that he ‘didn’t play cricket in the rain’. I am of his school of thought.

Tea was taken. It was delicious, but the rain persisted. Christiaan demanded that we wait for a pitch inspection, but there was a puddle on the wicket. Charlie suggested a gladiatorial mano a mano battle between one of ours and one of theirs. We volunteered Jonkers as tribute, but no Authors dared match him. Suitably dampened by the weather, we called the game off. It is the general desire of both sides that the fixture should be rearranged for the 15th of September. In writing, as in life, the suspense is key. But try telling that to 22 cricketers.