Thurgarton Manor, for the Third Time

So, a cricket ground where I used to take my first ever girlfriend for a walk back when I was 17 and skinny as a rake. The ground, beautiful on hot day with its ancient trees inside the boundary ropes, hasn't changed much probably since the club was founded in 1874, but I have.

We were a bit of a scratch side today, but still as it turned out a good one, but luck wasn't with us right from the off as our leading quick bowler knocked over their opening bat, only to rip an arm muscle soon after.

Meanwhile Fiskerton and Thurgarton had a cancelled game, and so a couple of their second teamers were playing for them. I, opening the bowling for the first time this year for the third team, had to do a fair bit of bowling at two of them and, ruined as my body is with legs so stiff I can barely run, I did ok after a shaky start. They were very good though, and I had to cope with being spanked for the odd four.

I did get one of them, bowling him  with an inswinging delivery not long after the skipper, who is claiming to be semi-retired, dropped a catch off me.

Seeing as he then took a far harder catch off one of our excellent juniors a little while later, who is in his fantasy team unlike myself - I am in nobody's fantasy team - I am beginning to get a whiff of corruption. Ten overs I bowled, and it was tiringly hot out there.

The bad news continued when our young keeper injured a finger, and we were down to ten in the field, one of whom was our injured bowler who had to resort to shot putting the ball in like a more attractive version of an 80s Soviet female putter. Luckily his girlfriend, drafted into the side today, fielded well enough for three of us. I felt old and creaky.

The skipper also forgot his retirement long enough to bowl as well, and for a while we were back in the game and getting on top, before another of their experienced batsman, helped take them over 200. I felt I had earned the massive tea I then ate.

Chicken tikka sandwiches for the win.

I rather regretted the decision to eat a lot when the skipper decided I should bat at 5 while he lay on his back and relaxed. It's apparently a form choice. I was flattered, but I'm a little high at 5. Didn't do too badly, got 15 and was annoyed to get myself out LBW when I felt I could have got a fair few more. Other bats did well, others less so. The wicket was so slow by this point you needed a spade to get at the ball off their canny old spinner.

We fell for 104. Still a lovely game though, at a ground through which the Brimstones flew, and swallows skimmed.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 26.05.18

Operation Shellacking

Today saw us playing...Fiskerton and Thurgarton again! We've only just played them yesterday, but while that was the Saturday 3rd team, this time it was their Sunday first team we were up against.

Equivalent - Division N standard, to Division C standard. And our team only had one player who wasn't Division N standard. We were very outmatched. And as ever for these sorts of games, I ended up being captain again.

But at least we were playing at Thurgarton Priory, the most beautiful ground I've ever played on and apparently voted the 6th most attractive in the country. Since we played before in May, flowers have been planted around the charming pavilion, and it was very noticeable how as the afternoon wore on, lots of people arrived to use the ground as a social facility.

We were there for business, the business of playing cricket.

We bowled first, to make sure we got our money's worth for the afternoon, and we made a good start; good bowling from myself, for a change, and our other main bowlers. We had them 4 wickets down for not very many.

Then there was a small partnership of about 600 which did for us, the two best batsmen on the team, and they took the game miles away from us. We needed some overs from the fill in bowlers, and sadly the fill in bowlers got filled in.

Nothing you can do. Just keep on trying to enjoy it. If you can enjoy 294-6.

A tea which was helpfully illuminated with flags telling you what you were eating, and was also very nice, followed before we went out to bat. I put myself at 9, mainly because I like the number, and let better batsman get on with it. Things went ok for a while, and after a spell operating the electronic scoreboard, had a walk round this ground, a ground where I had walked with a girlfriend when I was 17.

The bees were driven wild by the flowers! Loads of them nectaring off the...whatever they weres. Swallows were all over the ground when the weather was warmer, then the flocks of wagtails took over, mummies, daddies and youngsters. THe beauty of the ground has a drawback though. it's hard to see among the trees.

That's my excuse anyway. I was out for 0 again. I am so desperate for runs I just can't relax and actually score any. Driving me mad. I haven't scored more than 1 since May. AARRGGGHHH. Again! And the team was all out for 77. AAARGGGH yet again.

Still love it though. And I dived a few times today, making a complete mess of it on each occasion.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 06.08.17

The Sketching of the Frustrated Cricketer

First day of the new season, out at the beautiful Thurgarton Priory ground on the way from Southwell to Nottingham.

I find myself back in the third team this season, after an influx of talent returning to the club from various exiles. Either that or the second team skipper is glad to get rid of a piece of hopeless deadweight.

I feared I would be having a sort of "bat number 11, don't bowl" sort of day, but luckily El Presidente skipper decided to give me the new ball. I did my best, I really did, but no amount of bowling as quick as I've ever bowled in my life could change my luck - a few chances were missed off me per usual - and also the fact I have a bad habit of throwing in a few full tosses for reasons I don't understand. Invariably these get smashed into the far distance.

It's not that I'm trying to bowl them!

The other thing I notice is how amazingly banal a lot of chat on the cricket field is when someone is bowling. "Oh yeah, loving it", "Oh yes!", "Oh yeah, every day there", or "Oh yeah yeah yeah yes!".

Maybe I'll write a book about it.

Luckily we have bowlers who are luckier than me, and don't bowl full tosses, and so we kept the opposition to 230 for 8. After a hearty tea - I much prefer bowling first - the simple resignation of the fact that I would be batting at 10 or 11 meant I could wander off and photograph the ground, and even do some sketching even as the day got colder and chillier.

The trees and massive priory, now luxury flats attached to the church building, makes for a natural amphitheatre, and the smack of leather on willow echoed round the ground in the most satisfying way. A team mate reckoned this was because of the stream running along the edge of the ground, and whether or not this was true under the trees there was carpeted with wild garlic and was stunningly lovely.

I went in there to fetch a ball and came out smelling of garlic.

We were in with a good shout of winning the game at one point, but our batting rather subsided and I felt rather gratified to score 1 not out, somehow, especially as I was initially clueless facing their quickest bowler.

I just wish the sun had been out.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 06.05.17