V&A XI:N. Constantine (c) , C. Jonkers, A. Jacot de Boinod, D. de Caires, J. Waddington, D. Pitlarge, J. Arnold, C. Kulasingham, I. Krunic, C. Malhotra, Zaf

When someone mentions cricket in April the mind immediately flies to those rather hilarious images of slip fielders in three jumpers, with bobble hats on and hands thrust firmly into deep pockets that contain multiple handwarmers. Such is the lot of the County Championship cricketer who starts his season when there is still frost on the ground! I can’t personally recall an opening fixture of a V&A season bathed in quite so much sunshine as we had on Saturday. The worm(cast) has turned, clearly. 

The Top Knockers are a wandering side, captained by Nick Berry, with good Shropshire Lads as their foundation. They approach their cricket in much the same way as we do: affable, amateurish (in the very best possible sense of the word) and full of the joys of spring to be out in the middle. We’ve contested close fixtures over previous seasons and always look forward to their appearance. They are slightly more in touch with the zeitgeist than we are, though. I’m reliably informed that their Tour last year was in Ibiza. Apparently they don’t use empty jeroboams of tequila for stumps. 

They were nine. We were quorate. I won the toss and elected to bat on a dry wicket that looked promising. Attention had been paid to it by our often elusive groundsman, for which we were all grateful (or so we thought). Waddington and Pitlarge took to the wicket with the promise of pace, bounce, and most importantly: runs. 

To say the start was gentle would be kind. The Top Knockers opening pair, and Sunderland in particular, were metronomic. The ball reared and spat one minute, and scuttled through the turf at toenail height the next. Both openers protected their wickets with the sort of tenacity that you expect from anyone who has waited to bat for half a year. A few lusty blows from Waddington and some deft dabs and clips from Pitlarge took us toward the half century. Pitlarge’s vigil was eventually ended, and Jonkers strode to the wicket. I like watching Jonkers bat. He does so in a wide-brimmed floppy hat, rather than a V&A cap. When paired with his horn-rimmed spectacles and those moustaches inspired by Field-Marshall Haig, it does feel a bit like watching a pre-war documentary following a House XI. At least he’s given up tying the V&A tie around his waist as a belt. 

At lunch we were 64-1. 

In anticipation of rather changeable weather (the forecast was 2c – 19c), we laid on Cottage Pie and a garden salad for lunch. Lizzi Constantine slaved away in the heat of the kitchen and produced what we thought would’ve been enough to feed 40. It was nearly all gone by the time we were done. Jasper had thirds. Christy complained that there was no tabasco. We ate under the sun in shirt-sleeves and all was right with the world.

At lunch we (and for ‘we’ read ‘Nicky Bird’) discussed the law of copyright, and infringements thereof. We also discussed who, in the world of art and auctioneering, is trusted to confirm whether a painting is real. Suffice it to say that, after much deliberation, nobody that took lunch at Stonor on Saturday is a member of that trusted few. Especially not Nicky. 

At the resumption, the message was clear: we needed runs. Waddington fell on his sword after providing a decent platform. I went in, hungry for runs, and found the boundary before being trapped LBW. Jonkers then went, which brought Arnold and Zaf together. Some decent stroke-making, some quick running (from Zaf, mind – Arnold still remains resolutely in second gear when running between the wickets) dragged our total up to a modest 133-5 from our 35 overs. 

I must admit to thinking we were well short. What happened next was remarkable. 

Krunic and Jonkers opened the bowling for the V&A. Though wicketless in his first over, Krunic had the ball on a string and generated steep and vicious bounce from just short of a length. Jonkers, with his customary guile, had a very convincing LBW shout turned down. To his credit, the usual chuntering one hears when that happens was limited. Another LBW shout a few balls later saw the finger go up, and the rout had begun. 

After just four overs the score stood at 4-4. Two apiece for the opening pair. This brought Berry and Sunderland together, needing to steady the ship. They set about their work patiently, watchful of a surface that was doing its very best to pray on the mind of the batsman. 

At tea, there had been no further wickets and the score was 50 odd. Looking to make the most of their efforts, Berry and Sunderland attempted to force the pace of their chase. Enter Kulasingham, who first removed Berry with a ball that nipped back sharply, and then Sunderland (with one that stayed a little low). Constantine removed Armstrong, and Kulasingham had the last man LBW. Neither had troubled the scorers. In fact, there were six ducks, and aside from Ahmed’s four singles, all the runs came from the Berry / Sunderland partnership. There were also seven extras. 

58 all out. Done by 5PM. We basked in the sunshine with beers and tried to remember the last time we’d bowled so accurately. 

At the pub, Jonkers tried to explain to Kulasingham what the meaning of the term ‘a rum egg’ meant. I suspect Christy is still scratching his head. 

V&A Bowling Figures

I. Krunic: 5-1-8-2

C. Jonkers: 4-0-15-2

N. Constantine: 5-0-17-1

C. Kulasingham: 5-0-17-3