V&A XI:N. C. Jonkers (c), A. Jacot de Boinod, T. Bird, N. Constantine, D. Pitlarge, J. Tetlow, T. Walsh, J. Arnold, C. Kulasingam, B. Horan, I Krunic
Well the England captain is in disgrace (again), if you can call it that. Quite why the man seems incapable of having a couple of beers and going home before midnight is beyond me, but there you go. It was good of Stokes to stage his fall from grace at The Sloaney Pony, and 151, though. Many a V&A player has frequented both establishments over the years (not necessarily on the same night, but it’s a pilgrimage as well established as the Camino Frances) – indeed I even heard Adam Jacot telling Nicky Bird that he was big on the 151 scene back in his days as a young tearaway.
Speaking of disgraced captains, Nicky Bird was our captain for about four decades, and remains our leader. He also remains no stranger to the odd faux-pas. Debatable as to whether these have been career-ending though it may be, I have it on good authority (Nicky’s) that one must always blame senior management in the event of a ‘c&@k up’.
It has made me think rather hard about what sort of outfit we might become if one of our number was made Managing Director of V&A Cricket. More on this anon.
Having lost our last fixture to rain, we watched endless clouds with bated breath (and no little dejection) as the deluge continued day after day. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly Stonor Park drains of that much water. Perhaps it explains why the outfield is so ‘lush’, and the wicket so green? They’re playing on a green top at The Oval this week. Must be tactical.
I don’t recall whether or not Jonkers won the toss, but we batted first. Pitlarge and Constantine opened, the latter hoping to occupy the crease for longer than the solitary ball he managed at the top of a previous innings. A flurry of boundaries, some last gasp digging to keep out the grubbers, and things looked good. Alas, one always has one’s name on it, and Constantine was undone by one that darted in, stayed low, and clipped the back leg before ricocheting into the stumps.
17-1. Tetlow strode to the middle and immediately went to work with Pitlarge. They ran many a two (some excellent shots that would be four anywhere else just didn’t quite make it to the boundary) before Tetlow was caught behind off an excellent delivery by Simmonds, nipping away just enough to take the edge. Pitlarge followed almost immediately after with the score at 77-3.
Horan came and went briskly, which brought Arnold and Walsh together. At the stage, the score was 88-4.
As cricketers, they could not be more different. Arnold bats like an opener: he has a good leg glance, a late dab, a solid cut shot and a decent drive through the off. Reliable, patient and measured at the crease, he is the sort of man that lets others bat around him. The black pads will have to go, though.
By contrast, Walsh is more cavalier and offers a shot a ball. Wonderful for the spectator, it must be said. Flowing hair, lusty blows and a cricket shirt that resembles a tunic that you might’ve found on the set of The Duellists. He battled through the early part of his innings, adjusting to the pace of the wicket (there is none), before unfurling many a shot to all parts. I said his nonchalant flick off the hip was Richards-esque. Jonkers said his cut shot reminded him of Gower in his pomp. Not bad, as cricketing bedfellows go.
Walsh finished 88*, with Arnold 30*. Their 136-run partnership was essential, and at 220-4 off 35 overs I thought we were out of sight. The highest score this summer has been about 150, so that should tell you a thing or two!
We had lunch before the real hitting started. Steph Bird provided wonderfully seasonal fare. A cold Thai noodle salad studded with peanuts and fresh herbs complemented a delicious spiced pork roll. I maintain hope that she will one day start a catering business (if only to see Tom Bird in an apron, with yellow Marigolds pulled up to his elbows whilst he slaves away as Kitchen Porter).
Nicky made one of his customary speeches. However, it must be noted that something rather remarkable happened. Those of you who have either heard Nicky, or read one of his reports, will know that it was in fact he, and not Donald Trump, that introduced the world to the concept of ‘alternative facts’. Were you to fact-check most of what he comes out with, you’d understand.
However, given that The Legends are Old Oundelians, Nicky gave a rather smart discourse on the stained glass in the War Memorial Chapel there. To my great surprise, there were nods of assent and even the odd ‘Yes, that’s right!’ coming from the opposition. To say I was shocked was an understatement. I nearly choked on my rosé and Adam Jacot nearly choked on his pork in surprise. Jonkers was busy doing the maths on how many times Nicky has fibbed in a speech over the last 51 years.
I can’t count that high.
Krunic and Jonkers opened the bowling for The V&A. Both bowled tight, probing lines, but what life there was at the beginning of play had been well and truly baked out of it by mid-afternoon. On another day they might have had three or four wickets apiece, but the opening batsmen survived until the first change in the bowling. Constantine had one well caught by that man Walsh to break the deadlock, and the score was 40-1.
Jacot had Campbell, Kulasingam had Isaac and Prabhu, Jonkers had Cope, and Krunic came back to take two crucial wickets at the end.
In the heat of the day, there were moments where I thought we might be in trouble. In truth, I worry too much.
Another fabulous day under the cerulean blue skies of Stonor. We carted ourselves off down to The Golden Ball where the drink flowed, and Michael Constantine had to help some rather feckless chap jump start his 1950s Alvis. Noblesse oblige, and all that.
