V&A PLAYERS: Tom Bird*, Ross Ashcroft, Chris Mounsey-Thear, Nick Constantine, Phil Goodliffe, Vin Grantham, Martin Bowden, Ben Horan, Steve Coltman, Max Coltman.

As far as I’m aware, cricket was not altogether popular in the dust bowls of American history. I’ve failed to find any proof that Prairie hands took to the turf during a lull in the swirling winds, amidst the tumbleweed, to crack the ball around in flannels and serge. It is of no consequence, though, as Stonor Park and our own arid pastures have afforded similar conditions of late. Taking to the field has become a matter of tripping the light fantastic in the Devil’s own cauldron. Still, mustn’t grumble.

The day dawned hot and dry. The fanciful rumours of rain clouds threatening The Chilterns were wrong, as they so often are. The opposition, The Cricketers Club of London, were an affable lot full of vim and vigour. I like an opposition whose players tuck into a cold beer before a ball has been bowled; it shows character. As we milled about waiting for the toss, one of the opposition reminded me of that inimitable W. G. Grace take on what to do with a green wicket, on a hot day: “When you win the toss – bat. If you are in doubt, think about it, then bat. If you have very big doubts, consult a colleague – then bat.” Mercifully, our skipper Tom Bird won the toss and invited The Cricketers to field first without the need to consult any of us. He knows what is expected of him.

Ross Ashcroft and self opened the batting, the former looking extremely well after a family holiday to the West Coast of Scotland. Ross wasted no time, dispatching the ball to the square leg boundary off the second ball. The strike fell to me and I inexplicably missed a knee high full-toss on nought to leave us 5-1 at the end of the first over. The Cricketers’ star bowler, Pinchen, bowled excellently from one end and had the ball dancing around in the corridor. Vin Grantham struck a couple of his glorious drives through the off side and the battle between bat and ball tussled on. When Brodrick had Grantham (13) caught at the wicket, the score was 27/2, with runs hard to come by. Our powerhouse, Chris Mounsey-Thear, who has been in a rich vein of form of late, was in at four. The pitch was tricky. Inconsistent bounce, decent seam movement from both ends and late swing were all in evidence, and The Cricketers used them to their advantage. Pinchen bowled one over to Mounsey-Thear where he beat the bat off the seam with every delivery. It was a joy to watch. He then had Ashcroft (21) caught well in the gully, by Tozer and the score went to 39-3.

Enter Tom Bird (14), with a captain’s innings to play. After a few obdurate defensive shots and scampered singles, Tom hit his stride, a highlight being a sweetly timed on drive to the boundary. However, the Cricketers continued to pile on the pressure. Another couple of wickets reduced The V&A to 76-5. There was brief resistance from the Coltman father and son duo. Steve (19) drives the ball excellently through the covers, and his son, Max (4), was undeterred by the pressures of facing deliveries from grown men. The V&A predict a bright cricketing future for little Max. Just don’t take example from your elders: remember to practice. At lunch the score was 103-7.

In the changing room before the game, Tom Bird announced to Penfold, Grantham and self that he has recently had one of those ‘Well Man Body MOT’ things that GP’s apparently do. I don’t trust doctors and prefer blissful ignorance to my unhealthy lifestyle. I don’t like surprises. Tom’s doctor has said that his cholesterol is rather high for a man his age: ‘No more daily bacon for breakfast – have muesli instead’ is the new mantra. Now, given the divine spread that greeted the jaded players on Saturday, I understand why his might be higher than the average.

Steph Bird had decided on a French theme for lunch. On arrival at the ground we were all treated to the sight of baby Bird on her mother’s lap, as Steph sliced and diced endless beautiful salamis. There were two mountainous plates of cooked ham, endless frites, an oozing wheel of brie, rappées of carrot and celeriac and an abundance of cold bieres. It amazes us all that every week the catering seems to improve. I am beginning to think that there is probably some underground betting syndicate among the V&A supporters to see who will be crowned ‘Best Chef’ at the closing of the season. Steph – you’re getting my vote!

The Cricketers know what’s what. John Fingleton; “Fingers”, to you and me, very graciously proffered a couple of bottles of bubbly to mark the occasion. Not only is he a Master of Ceremonies with a string of anecdotes longer than the boundary rope, he is also the most liberally colourful dresser that I’ve encountered. Fingers, The V&A salutes you and your cornucopia of blazers. A couple of decent Picpoul de Pinet’s and Côtes du Rhone’s also graced the table, so thank you, Cricketers, for that.

Conversation at my end of the table turned to booze. It usually does. The announcement that Taittinger are producing their own English Sparkling Wine drew some raised eyebrows. For some, the Hundred Years War is still fresh in the memory, it would seem. Considering that The Cricketers and The V&A share an enthusiasm for playing cricket whilst remedying aches and pains with the restorative beer or three, we also discussed the optimal intake to ensure carefree strokeplay. I pointed out that if you can be a better driver after one pint (something to do with the dilation of the pupils and extended peripheral vision… it must be true, I was told it on a Speed Awareness Course), then the same surely applied to cricket. Mr. Smyth, The Cricketers’ wicketkeeper suggested that it was more like three or four. He’s got more hairs on his chest, and a better beard than me. Thus, I trust his judgement.

Lunch drew to a close, Steph Bird extolled the virtues of Crémant de Bourgogne and Ross Ashcroft regaled us with a tale of a stroppy matron at a fish restaurant in Scotland. They’re not a hospitable lot, the Scots. Ben Horan (8) flourished a lovely cover drive to the boundary after lunch but fell to the bowling of Odedra shortly after. Phil Goodliffe (2) was then caught with Martin Bowden (7*) the undismissed batsman. The V&A had made a stuttering 108 all out.

The Cricketers made a measured start with Brockton and Lowe getting to grips with the wicket steadily. It wasn’t until Martin Bowden, canniest of club cricketers, dismissed Lowe (17) that The V&A had any real luck. The score was 41-1, The Cricketers were firmly in the ascendancy. Martin continued to challenge the batsmen, and I tried to hold down the other end to keep the pressure on. The wickets of Tozer (4) and Odedra (3) fell to Bowden; Chapman (4) and Funge (0) fell to me and suddenly The V&A were in the hunt again with The Cricketers at 68-5. When Steve Coltman claimed the wicket of Smyth (0) it was all to play for. However, much to the chagrin of The V&A, Brockton (41*) and skipper Bickley (10*) managed to weather the storm and steer The Cricketers to victory.

The day was a delight, as it so often is. Sun-drenched and parched, we repaired en masse to The Crown in Pishill. Another round of applause must go to Steph for her gargantuan efforts in the kitchen. Warm thanks again to Fingers et al for the contribution to the days libations, and we look forward to your return next year. Hopefully, it doesn’t coincide with the circus.