The ALL SORTS are named after a box of liquorice sweeties. Like Bassetts Liquorice Allsorts they’re a mixed bag. Some are butch and young, others not. David Pitlarge suggested, by the way, that I have a Manichean view of cricketers, they are either butch or effete. But there are exceptions and skipper Adam Jacot falls in between: his feminine side is dominant in the kitchen but his virility is apparent in his bowling and robust batting. His manliness was evident when a ball smacked him in the mouth. He retired reluctantly from the field, was patched up by the wonderful Emma and returned to his bowler’s mark, bloodied but uncomplaining. His captaincy was typically tactful, with late-order batsmen bowling and everyone getting a chance to do something, however badly. Adam’s fielding was as always languid, and generous to the batsmen. Christiaan and I had a chat about the […]

The Legends, as their name suggests, are a team that seek to aspire and leave a legacy that can be handed down through the generations. Playing only twice a year this seems like something of a tall order, but who am I to question the deeper tides of human endeavour. Memories struggled to recall previous results and thoughts quickly turned to more serious matters such as what was on the menu for lunch. Under the skilled leadership of Joe Tetlow, V&A elected to field and the opening salvos from Lachlan Nieboer and Christiaan Jonkers were textbook in their execution as under cloudy skies and a damp outfield the Legends openers struggled to reach the boundary. Rarely has there been such spirited and concentrated appealing by V&A, as time after time bat engaged with pad, yet the umpires remained resolute in their decisions of not out. Lachlan was seen appealing to […]

There are two Coningtons near Peterborough, and I found the wrong one. I gave Joe and Nick Constantine a lift and they weren’t too impressed. We drove around the lanes of a scrubby village and asked yokels for the cricket pitch. ‘No idea’ was the stock answer and I thought them moronic not to know their most picturesque spot. ‘It’s by the church. Opposite the manor house,’ I said. Blank, stupid looks. ‘Mark Braid is the owner.’ Who? Then a bloke said – ‘You might mean the other Conington.’ Fuck. So we were late. We were 13 for 0 when we arrived with Jasper and Marc looking comfortable against goodish bowling on a flat pitch. But Marc, a very good batsman indeed, contrived to nick a fastish ball to the armpit of a bemused first slip. Out. Enter Lachlan who looked set for a good score but played back to […]

With the holiday season upon us, and short of a few regulars, I was delighted to receive the call up from Adam J to play for the V&A, as did a couple of my Town & Country regulars, Tom Walsh and Pete Bridge, along with Tom’s eldest son, Vincent. I think that Adam was probably after the very capable bowling and batting of my youngest Barnaby, who has the scalps of a few notable V&A regulars in recent years (no names!), but with Barnaby away, the V&A had to make do with second best. I played my first game for the V&A over 20 years ago, probably in the last century in fact (Nicky will know the exact date no doubt), when a touring V&A side were down in Cornwall seeing our great old family friends and V&A stalwarts, the Jenkins.  I happened to be on holiday, and I was […]

When Mr. and Mrs. NICK JENKINS joined us at Stonor almost 40 years ago we benefitted in two ways. Sarah brought her culinary skills and Marigold gloves; and Nick brought his drinks cabinet in the boot of his Renault Alpine. What Nick did not bring was cricket skills. He was, technically speaking, useless. One year he caught a catch but it was a mistake, the ball nestled in his armpit as he was trying to duck. He was ignorant of the terminology of cricket. He thought a yorker was a bloke from Leeds. He was unwordly too. I asked him to field at square leg. Where’s that? Adjacent to the umpire, I said. ‘Adjacent?’ But he is a wonderfully affable man who gives good pub. His missus may be more erudite but is no less congenial in the face of some provocation, the worst of which was Bruno Wollheim’s barb […]

I’ve written one match report for the V&A prior to this. Funnily enough, it was for our game against the Jesmond Jaguars last year. Writing our match report for this fixture is swiftly becoming a yearly tradition. If you don’t yet know what Jesmond is, and want to change that, you can go back to that report. Jesmond was well summarised by one person as being ‘not a bad’ postcode to be in in Newcastle. The Jags played rugby together at university. The game was initially delayed by some pretty torrential rain. The power went out multiple times in the Stonor pavilion. The dogs were deeply displeased. The children were scared. Steph reported leaks. Nevertheless, this was a chance for the first game of one hand one bounce I’ve seen in the Stonor pavilion. The rubber matting in the home changing room created deep cracks for bowlers to exploit, along […]

It was something of a perfect storm of extenuating circumstances this weekend as the Regatta descended upon Henley and the Aussies upon Lords. For the V& A this is a bit of a Christmas-and-birthday-at-once situation. Thanks to the efforts of our seasoned selectors we ended up with an 11 a side game by Saturday morning, not including their skipper who had a motorway mishap but including this skipper, who was just very late. By the time I arrived we were already two down after only a few overs, Tom P-G and local colt Tom Atkinson both getting caught. Obviously I’m not totally privy to the circumstances of these wickets but TPG’s lack of willingness to talk about his caught and bowled said a lot. The often reliable and elder Pitlarge missed the opportunity for a father-son partnership getting bowled by Rupert for 2 leaving Pitlarge-the-Younger (Alex) to steady the ship […]

‘Cricket is better than sex’ (Harold Pinter). I quoted this old chestnut the other week and one V&A stalwart told me – ‘I tried his theory out with the missus after the pub, it being Saturday – a sort of practical. The missus said Pinter was right. And she hates cricket.’ He went on: ‘Cricket is actually like sex. It involves absurd positions. And etiquette, confrontation, argument and disappointment. And recrimination.’ We had all the above on Saturday, to a lesser degree. There was ‘organised loafing’ too (Archbishop Temple), as we hung about for an age before wandering out to play. We batted first in a 35-over game skippered with his customary skill and tact by Rob Taylor. I umpired and was soon embroiled in a minor argument and confrontation with a very reasonable bowler who asked politely why his LBW appeal was rejected when the ball would have hit […]

Eventually we corralled a motley crew and the game was on. We tossed up, and the Bandits won the toss, but we got to bat anyway. Batting wasn’t our strongest suit on the day, so it was good to bat first. And it was also cooler at 11:30am than it promised to be by mid-afternoon Opening up was Tom Bird and Jasper Arnold. Jasper hit some penetrating shots through the offside, punishing the ball to the rope with his new bat. Jasper spends most of his time out of his crease, and it was perhaps his unusual approach to running between the wickets that did for Tom Bird, who was caught short of his ground early on.  In at number three was Tetlow Snr. He was a very good batsmen in his day and played for Lancashire schoolboys, but not for his leg-spin which featured heavily in local car parks. […]