V&A XI:N. J. Tetlow (c) , N. Constantine, C. Jonkers, C. Kulasingham, D. Pitlarge, A. Jacot, A. Pitlarge, I. Krunic, M. Krunic, L. Nieboer, Shok (wk)
One wonders what the cricketing equivalent of “Trouble at t’ mill” would be? ‘Sticky wicket’, probably. And yet, that would be kind. It is probably easier to bat in one of the craters of the moon than on the square at Stonor at present. Sincere apologies to visitors and club members alike.
We are, however, perfecting the art of winning shockingly low-scoring thrillers. That is very much a skill in its own right. Gone are the days when 180 would be par for May, and you could flirt with the idea of scoring a century before lunch. We’re in the era of variable bounce, bodyline, and good length balls clattering into the helmet. If anyone bowled at real pace it would be classed as a blood sport. We’ll have to make a betting book reminiscent of The Drones, where we take bets on who loses a tooth first.
The Invalids are a wonderful bunch, and we always look forward to the fixture. In recent years, the battle between Bird and Clarke has begun to look somewhat different (neither of them seem to play the fixture anymore), but they’ve been around for longer than us and even have the decency to wear the same colours as we do, which is delightful. They have a flag. I wish we had a flag.
Tetlow, who has been out of the runs this season, won the toss and elected to bowl first in the heat of the day. He “likes to chase” (verbatim); thankfully he was also engaged relatively recently so at least we know he was talking about cricket. He was not popular in the dressing room: it was north of 30C and there was barely a whisper of breeze. We passed around the tanning oil and electrolytes and strode, albeit timidly, out into the glare. Tetlow has never lost as skipper, apparently. I am not sure of the veracity of this, given the fact that we’ve barely won anything in recent years, but he remains adamant. The fact that we very nearly failed to chase 93 will explain why he has no fingernails left.
We started very well. For reasons known only to himself and God, the non-striker (yet to face) attempted to pinch a single to a ball spilled by the otherwise excellent Shok. A quick scurry from first slip, an instinctive sling and the ball cannoned into the base of the middle stump courtesy of yours truly. 0-1, and the first time I’ve seen an opener run out without facing a ball. Careless.
Jonkers & Krunic are fast becoming an established double act at the top of the innings. Both attacked the stumps doggedly. What they may lack in pace (these days) they more than make up for in persistence and guile. The cordon lost track of the amount of times the ball beat the bat, and what runs did come did little to alleviate the pressure before Krunic struck in the 8th over. Jonkers struck in the next. Krunic struck again in the over after that, and the score was 18-4. The bowling was changed.
The next wicket fell to Kulasingham in the 14th, with a frankly extraordinary caught & bowled. The ball flew into orbit off a leading edge toward point and Christy had the time to shoo away the keeper, the slip, the men in the covers and Jonkers at point (who was standing under the ball). But, if you want something doing… etc. 51-5.
We lunched with the score at 65 (ish) – 6. We’ve retired the hot food buffet until September. It’s too bloody hot for Shepherd’s Pie, and Lizzi Constantine had no intention of standing next to the stove. Quite right, if you ask me. So we’re back to rare roast beef, gammon and other bits and pieces that don’t scream gout. Nicky said something about the late Queen and her connection to Stonor. It turns out there isn’t one.
Sated, we trudged back out to mop up the tail. The last four wickets fell for less than 30, with Ilija taking two in an over and another run out (me again) bringing things to a close.
The Invalids were 92 all out.
Our innings did not begin well.
I middled a defensive prod to the man at mid-off from the first ball of our innings. David Pitlarge fell shortly after, as did Marco Krunic and Nieboer. The score was 22-4 and four of our top five had scored five runs between them. Disaster loomed.
Tetlow, competitive beast that he is, ground out a fantastic 36 before he finally fell to one of the grubbiest grubbers I’ve seen at Stonor. There is simply no justice. It turned out to be a captain’s innings anyway. He took two to the helmet and played a bizarre mixture of French Cricket and deft clips to the boundary before being bowled. Shok & Kulasingham added four between them, for the loss of another couple of wickets.
At 63-8, I believed. You’ll have to ask Adam Jacot and Joe Tetlow if they did, but if you want the inside line: Joe chainsmoked his filthy Rothmans for about 45 minutes, and I’ve never heard Jacot groan: “Oh, Goddddd” quite as much as he did every time Jonkers went for an ill-advised biff outside the off stump.
Nevertheless, that indomitable pairing of Jonkers & Krunic, so steadfast with the ball hours before, proved to be exactly that with the bat. Krunic is akin to a hare between the wickets; Jonkers is more like a badger. One dashes and darts; one trundles. Both got to the other end enough times for us to knock off the remaining runs, with Krunic slapping the ball away down the hill to clinch a victory that looked very much in doubt for the majority of our innings.
We repaired, relieved, to The Golden Ball and had a hilarious time asking AI to tell us about club stalwarts. Lachlan Nieboer may be the only one of our number with a Wikipedia page, but we’re all under the microscope of ChatGPT (other LLMs are available)… at the end of the season, we’ll release the AI XI of choice.
We play the Town & Country Folk XI on Saturday.
