Diary of a Tour Manager aged 65 and a half: The Final Chapter

Friday 5th September

It had a been a mercifully quiet week. Only modest pressure had been applied to get 11 players confirmed for Saturday and Sunday and astonishingly 13 for the Friday evening's T20, including a welcome first appearance by Oxfordian, Josh. The weather forecast had steadily improved and only Prof Heather's refusal to use WhatsApp and Matt's changing travel plans were causes for concern.

Of one thing you can be sure, the T20 against FFTMCC would be a last over finish in the near dark. And so history duly repeated itself. Batting first, our 118 felt 10-15 short. We started too slowly and only Graeme, retired for an excellent 30+, really got going.  Out bowling attack expertly marshalled by first time Captain Jules, kept us in it. Andy was sharp and Dan economical. But it always felt FFTMCC were the favourites. With 5 required of the last over, Jules' "gut told him" to throw the ball to Graeme. Sometimes guts are not to be trusted and a no-ball beamer headed to the boundary to ensure a FFTMCC victory. A beer or two with the most convivial of oppositions and an excellent Thai meal at the local pub mostly made up for the (modest) disappointment of defeat.

Saturday 6^th September

A beautiful day at Warborough to renew rivalry with the Erratics. Despite being appointed Captain, Jonathan was, as so often, lost somewhere on the M25. Graeme won the toss and decided to field. A time game as usual. The Erratics, who had partially reversed their batting order, were soon 42-6 with Kish, Martin and Rob all bowling well and Jonathan taking two stunning slip catches once he had eventually arrived. But this served only to expose the Erratic top order who got them to a competitive 142 on a slow and low pitch with the legendary Chris Cook inevitably starring.

The impressive Erratic bowling attack steadily chipped away at our batting. 20 from Kish and an excellent 50 from a limping Paul kept us in the game. With 2 overs to go the last pair of Martin and Duncan needed 15 to win. Unfortunately, Martin's strategy of farming the strike to protect Duncan didn't work out and he was done for by what he reported was un "unplayable" delivery from Fraser (well unplayable by Martin) in the last over of the 20. Beer and pub food in the Six Bells capped off an excellent day.

Sunday 7^th September    

I woke up in the luxury of the Dicot Premier Inn. The sun was out and we had the final leg at Harwell to look forward to. Everything had gone smoothly. Too smoothly. Checking the Met Office, a severe thunderstorm warning had just been issued for Oxfordshire (happily it mostly missed us).  Message from Matt to say he was marooned somewhere in Surrey waiting for a non-existent rail replacement bus. In these circumstances there is only one thing to do: call for Bob. Yes, he is not the youngest of mandarins and he had already played and kept (exceptionally well) for two games, but his stamina puts the rest of us to shame. 

We won the toss and I elected to bowl. Harwell had stacked their top order with members of their first league team, but we just about kept them in check. Catches went down (of course) and Rob did what Rob does - 5 economical overs and a key wicket despite being hampered by a dodgy hamstring. Until Rob did what Rob never does: high no-ball for 4, wide, dot, wide, double bounce no-ball, 4, high no-ball four, 4, dot, wide, four..... (or something like this). A mere 27 off his sixth over. Happily, Adam stepped in to show his father how to do it and Josh in his second game took 3 wickets for the first time in his life. JP bowled an excellent 6 overs taking 1 for 16. 162 of 35 overs felt it should be gettable on a decent if slow pitch.

After Nikhil went early when looking good, Jonathan and Chris M put on an excellent century stand, Chris passing 1000 Mandarin runs in the process of scoring a career high 38 and Jonathan hitting his first 50 of the year. But once Jonathan had retired and Chris was caught by a blinder, we never got ahead of the rate despite having wickets in hand. 22 required of the last 5 overs, 6 of the last over, 2 off the last ball, but the closing Harwell bowling attack of two Oxfordshire Under-13 lady players proved too much. Defeat by 1 run. In the post match festivities Andy was named D*** of the day for a second time for squatting in the tea lady's special chair, something the rest of us had been very careful not to do.

A great tour as it so often is. But after three last overs defeats, I felt it was time to resign before I was pushed. Thanks to everyone who has turned out over the last 5 years, especially those who don't need continually reminding of start times, those who have played when injured, those that read what's on the WhatsApp group and especially those who have stepped in at the last minute when another player has dropped out (ie usually Bob!)

John Hawkins

Shaken up at Elstead

A road closure meant that the approach to the Elstead ground by car took a circuitous route in the by-roads, including a bone-shaker filled with potholes which, if taken at the wrong speed, resulted in car and passengers enduring a severe buffeting; alas, a flavour of things to come.

Matters on the pitch began promisingly. Captain Rangaragan was mustard-keen and ‘up for it’ (in front of proud visiting parents from India), inserting the opposition in a hybrid format 40 over game that could nevertheless be drawn (!?), with a plethora of nine Mandarins assembled at start of play despite the usual A3 roadworks. Opening bowlers Eastaway and Wigram kept things tight, followed up by Aussie newcomer Saunders and an especially miserly Hurst. Elstead had made a contained 67 for 0 off 20 at drinks with only one sharp caught-and-bowled chance going begging. The initial breakthrough came soon afterwards after swift work by Lowin in the outfield resulted in a run out. Wickets then fell with regularity as Elstead never really cut loose, Mandarins took most of the catches on offer (six in total) and capt. Kish ended with the best figures (3 for 8 off 4 overs) having held himself back. A target of 162 off 40 overs looked eminently gettable on a good pitch with three short boundaries and a fast outfield.

It didn’t take long to disabuse us of that fatuous notion with the introduction of Elstead’s opening bowler Lincoln who was pacy, but kept the swinging ball low from short of a length. Despite managing to pull his opening loosener over mid-wicket for four, your correspondent was soon fishing outside off stump and was bowled in the fourth over. Ducks for Wilmot and McKeown soon followed and we were reduced to 24 for 5 off 12 overs with Lincoln withdrawn from the attack as a gesture of generosity. Counter-punching defence from Lowin, Wigram (19) and capt. Kish (25) then ensured that scorer Baker’s speculation about records for lowest Mandarin totals and worst collapses was soon snuffed out. However, we were never realistically back in the hunt but gamefully kept trying until all out for 96. Johnny Extras contributed a miserly 5.

So half-time hopes were dashed and the recent run of close finishes at Elstead was broken in a game notable for Kishen’s first outing as captain for the Mandarins and Pat Murphy’s first year after retiring from active cricket duty. Hopefully, the roadworks will be completed by next year’s fixture and we won’t be shaken up so much.  

Paul Mills

Runs Aplenty in Beautiful Box Hill

Since 2012, I've been making the long journey down to Box Hill to play Mickleham, a friendly side who's cricketing ethos is very similar to our own. It's one of my favourite fixtures, despite the irksome journey across country from Reading.

The visitor is rewarded with a delightful view over a large verdant expense sloping down to the busy a road just the other side of a row of trees. It's one of a dwindling group of clubs on the circuit to offer a good tea, and visitors are hosted at the Running Horses for a bit of staged managed fine-making after the game. 

This being the first weekend of the school holiday, both teams turned up short. We had 10 players, they had seven, and it's to their credit that they even turned up at all as seven is two fewer than my normal cancellation threshold (not that we've done that for a while).

Anyway, we agreed to lend them one of our better batsmen (Arun) to ensure a good game, and also a fielder, a courtesy which they returned. Someone's dad turned up after a while and that made it 9 against 9. 

Batting first and led by Raki, Tim Baxter and our holidaying guest, Rajiv, opened the innings. They met with some very accurate bowling from one end (at least) which Tim, who's been looking for better form of late he tells me, treated with much circumspection. His first 26 balls were rewarded with just 5 runs; but with a change of attack he began to score more freely, eventually falling to an LBW decision courtesy of John Hawkins. Of course, Tim was "a long way forward" and it was "sliding down", but judging from the swiftness with which the finger was raised, John was in no doubt whatsoever!

Nevertheless, Tim and Rajiv can boast 64 runs for the opening partnership, and once Rajiv fell three runs later for 26, the baton passed to Jonathan Wilmot and Kishen. They pressed the gas pedal to take us swiftly onwards. By the time their partnership had been broken, 102 runs had been scored. Kishen got a 75 green-inker, his best score (to date) for the Mandarins.

John came in unusually late for a Mandarins number 5, and just as he was reaching lift off... Well there was something of a mix up with his batting partner - several decades age difference etc. - Tim had the pleasure / duty of giving John out. An unbeaten nine from Abhijit and with our old friend Johnny extras lobbying in 25, we reached 211 from 35.

With plenty of runs to spare and a decent tea inside us, we felt confident of defending our total. Mickleham started slowly, with the first wicket coming in the 5th over (Jonathan pouching a top edged skyer) when we'd conceded only 17. 

And then Arun took a bit of a fancy to yours truly and my military medium fare, smashing a swift 36 - mostly in boundaries. Thankfully it wasn't to last, being trapped in front of middle with one that maybe didn't get up as much as expected. 

Abhijit bowled a full, tight spell (2-23) and Rajiv chipped in with a couple of overs at the end, unlucky to have his maiden Mandarins wicket cancelled. No one could say for sure whether the ball had hit the stumps directly or bounced back off Jonathan's glove. So it goes.

But it was the Raki who made the decisive play when he brought himself on at second change. Mickleham lived the illusion for a while, responding to scoreboard pressure; but then wickets began to fall at a regular pace as the skipper finished with a 4-fer.

Catches were all taken if I recall - Kishen, Ravi and Jonathan taking the credit. LBWs were fairly awarded by both side, four in total.

And finally, we adjourned to the Running Horses where fines were distributed in the usual objective fashion, implemented as usual via the Malibu Delivery System. Tim & Kishen are representing the boys in mandarin, below.

Andy Heard

Abinger Hammer'd

Not quite a Hammering, but a convincing Mandarins win

Arriving early for our game in the picture-perfect setting of Abinger Hammer, the lunchtime storm soon gave way to allow a reduced game of 30 overs a side. Winning the toss, Rakesh did what Ben Stokes should have done a few days before at Edgbaston, deciding that runs on the board was the way to go.

With that direction set, the second ball was a rather faltering start as Michael fell for a duck, before Jules soon joined him back in the pavilion for six, both bowled on what was quickly proving a slightly unpredictable pitch to bat on.

Called to the crease as Jonathan fell for the fourth wicket, your stand in match reporter formed a useful partnership with Paul, as we picked some useful runs, almost exclusively in well run singles. In attempting to open up though, I met my downfall top edging to square leg. Returning to the pavilion, I found out my partner had videoed that delivery, seemingly having hoped for a far better outcome.

As wickets fell, it opened the door to a match defining partnership as Rakesh and Kish dragged our total well past 150 as they ended on 66 and 59* respectively. Had we played 40 overs, a 100 would have been very likely and well deserved too. In the closing stages. John sneaked into the scorebook with a 1*, with the Mandarins ending on a very respectable 196

In pursuit of 197, Abinger started their innings cautiously, with boundaries hard to come by, and the extras column instead setting the early pace. It was Abinger’s struggle to find the boundary, coupled with some excellent fielding through the team that ensured that as they headed into the second half of the case the required rate had already reached 10 an over.

Despite this tough ask, James Rumble, Abinger’s opening bat led the effort admirably, finishing on 83 off 91, before finally falling to an excellent second spell by Tom and some quick glovework behind the stumps from Jonathon to have him stumped. With an almost guaranteed Mandarins win in sight, the game was sealed by a fine catch from Paul, (what a fielder he could be with two functioning legs) and a last over from Jules supported from some tight fielding to get us over the line.

As the sun began to dip behind the distant trees, we retreated to Abinger’s delightful clubhouse for drinks with our new members of the Mandarins fan club (my family and in-laws) to celebrate another excellent team performance.

Matt Brown

 

Mandarins Turn Nasty to Vanquish Heber

Even though it has been going for fewer than 10 years, the match against Heber is undoubtedly one of the highlights of the Mandarins’ fixture list. It is always a hugely enjoyable game against a convivial opposition, albeit one that we have failed to beat since 2019. We reckoned that 8 of the Heber XI had turned out for the Mandarins at some stage, and previous incarnations of this fixture had seen several of the collective XXII play for the other side. It’s just all so nice.

And this got me pondering. One of the things about the Mandarins is that we really take pride in being nice. Over the course of the year we will often get comments from oppositions that we are their favourite fixture – not necessarily for the obvious reason – because we are nice. So we play Heber, who vie us for niceness, and we dial up our own niceness a notch. But they really do this well. Alex Frankpitt, occasional Mandarin and often a heavy run-scorer in this game, hits the most apologetic sixes I have ever seen. Heber as a team give off this vibe of being a bunch of dads that are just thrilled to be out on a Sunday playing cricket – and they genuinely are. But then they beat us. Year after year.

Rob Eastaway – the original Heberin (not my term, coined in a previous match report) – texts me a few weeks before the game to suggest that he doesn’t skipper the Mandarins this year. John Hawkins repeatedly refers to “The Great Eastaway Let Off Of 2022” versus Heber (or it might have been 2023, we’re not quite sure as match reports suggest that this isn’t quite such an egregious snatching-defeat-from-the-jaws-of-victory as John would have us believe, though I am fully signed up to the why-let-the-truth-get-in-the-way-of-a-good-story school of thought so am happy to keep this one going); nonetheless, this has clearly played on Rob’s mind, with him declaring that he lacks the objectivity to be an effective captain for this fixture. As Chairman it falls to me to take on the mantle and I decide that that we need to take different tack if we are going to give Heber a decent run for their money this year. So if we can’t out-nice Heber then we need to go the other way. Enter the nasty Mandarins.

The first act of nastiness is winning the toss and asking Heber to take the field. And reader, it is a hot, hot day in Dulwich. We’re talking 30oC plus. We then do what Heber don’t want – or at the very least what they don’t expect. Cue opening with a pair of Eastaways – after the success of the Formen against North Enfield the previous week, this feels inspired. It doesn’t work out quite as well but nonetheless we are treated to some classical Eastaway Snr technique and get a glimpse of what Eastaway Jnr is capable of with a glorious four clipped off his legs.

However, Wickets fall regularly and Tunbridge Jnr joins Wilmot in the middle with the Mandarins at a rocky (and not very nasty) 53-4. “No rush, it’s a time game”, I tell my son and sure enough he takes me at my word, dropping anchor, with Wilmot similarly slowing up as the Heber attack takes what little pace there is off the bowling. Whether by design or due to the heat (of course it’s the latter, this is Heber, no gamesmanship here), it succeeds in slowing things further. We reach 70 after 25 overs and talk on the boundary turns to what a defendable total is. I think the unthinkable and then say the unsayable to the Mandarins waiting to bat: “Don’t worry, we’ll carry on after tea”.

Such shock and awe tactics have the desired effect on those waiting to come in. Wilmot and Tunbridge Jnr succeeded in grinding down the bowlers, allowing Ramani and Rangarajan to plunder runs against a tiring attack. I throw in a few lusty blows for good measure and Forman carries on his form from the previous week. We add 114 in the last 15 overs and reach a solid total of 184 but not before I had administered a true act of duplicity – insisting on coming on as a substitute fielder for the aforementioned Frankpitt I sabotage the Heber efforts directly, conceding an overthrow almost immediately. “If we lose by one run, I’ll….I’ll….I’ll….be a little bit less chirpy” says Dan Taylor, another Heberin, to me. Considering that one of my Mandarin highlights is taking four catches whilst playing for the opposition against the Mandarins (and for those that may not be aware, it is the reason why it has become something of a tradition that I am an early sacrifice in any games of Werewolf), this is as nasty as it gets for me.

And then we go again, seeking to take 10 wickets. I tell the team to make the atmosphere hostile in the middle: “Don’t laugh at their jokes, they really hate that”. And what don’t the opposition want? The Mandarins very own version Branderson kicking things off. Hurstaway or Eastawurst, you take your pick (I know which one I prefer), but with over 1000 wickets for the Mandarins between them, this is as nasty an opening pair as I can conjure up. They take a little bit of time to find their range but settle into their groove and account for the dangerous opening pair of Elias and Phillips.

And then Heber do their thing, getting to 80-odd for three with little fuss and batting to come. And the Mandarins do their thing, giving batsman chances with some tricky, but gettable, catches going down. Baxter lets one through his fingers on the boundary and takes a glancing blow to the forehead; Tunbridge lets one through his fingers on the boundary and takes a glancing blow to the testicles. Both induce equal parts embarrassment and rage, but added to the new nasty Mandarins, it makes for quite the combination and the atmosphere on the field darkens. But lo, wickets start to fall – Forman with two and then Baxter with two (both catches juggling efforts taken by Ramani and Wilmot) leaving Heber with 50 runs to get in the final 10 overs with three wickets in hand.

Rangarajan has been one of our most dangerous bowlers this year though a hamstring tweak the previous week had meant that he had avoided my eye during the innings, unsure of how it would hold up. “Get a grip” I snarl, “next over from the far end”. Wilmot expresses concern “He’s injured, are you sure this is a good idea?”, quick as a flash I snap back “The soft power diplomacy of the Hawkins era has failed, you’d better strap in for this ride under your new Chairman”. Chastened, Wilmot takes his place behind the stumps, but I definitely detect a newfound note of respect.

At the other end I introduce Tunbridge Jnr who, like Forman, carries on his good form from the previous week and bowls a tight, tidy spell. And it’s clear that, whilst both he and Rangarajan are in their first season for the Mandarins, they have quickly worked out what it takes to be a successful Mandarin bowler – take the fielders out of the equation. Three clean bowled wickets later and it’s victory for the Mandarins and vindication for my new approach to this game.

And then, as Baker packs away his scorebook, we shed our snarls and swap it for beers instead. Two teams, one pitch, plenty of shared laughs. Heber shake hands, proclaim they’ve been properly schooled in Mandarin “nastiness” and wander off muttering about revenge plans for 2026. I raise my pint. “Do be gentle on us next year” I say with a grin. They just smile back, plotting their own devilish kindness. And truly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Graeme Tunbridge

Fathers’ Days

Mandarins (98 all out) lost to Weekenders (100/6) by four wickets (time format)

https://mandarins.play-cricket.com/website/results/6977876

Mandarins (223/6) beat North Enfield CC (222/5) by four wickets (overs format)

https://mandarins.play-cricket.com/website/results/6866058

First, appropriately enough on fathers’ day itself, to Regent’s Park, against our friends from the Weekenders, and where sons of both skippers were in their respective sides. And where the Mandarins were glad to be supported by one daughter, two sisters and four female partners of players, from a total of five spectators from among the fairer sex (stick that one in the New Scientist puzzles section).

After an arranged toss, skipper son no1 Stan Forman was sent in to face skipper son no2 Blake Husseini, and it was Stan who got the best of the battle with a blistering 40 to get us off to a fair flier, but not before Blake had got the better of Baxter. However it was a crash landing after that, with no one else offering much of a contribution, albeit on a tricky, slow and uneven pitch. Kishen told the story of how his dad had once impressed his mum when she first came to watch him play by deliberately hitting boundaries to where she was sat. With his own wife in attendance for the first (and last?) time, Kish instead ran himself out by running half way down, slipping on the way back and only being able to watch from the floor as the fielders did their best to fumble the chance, only eventually getting the bails off as he got back on his feet still 10 yards short. Which just about summed the undignified innings up. We were 98 all out, taking an early tea and giving the Weekenders an extra half an hour of batting which it seemed highly unlikely they would need, however their innings went.

However a spirited and skilful effort in the field very nearly did bring those extra overs into play. We didn’t quite get to squeaky bum time but we did make them work bloody hard for it. Eastaway R and Healey C were highly economical with the new ball. Wahaj and debutant Ted were sharp in pace, with Ted picking up his first wicket for the club. And then Rakesh (7.3-5-11-1) and Kishen were relentless in refusing to let the Weekenders get over the line with anything easy, taking us well into final 20 overs and getting them six down and perhaps one away from a real wobble. One of those six was a shouldn’t-be-allowed-on-a-Sunday direct hit run out from Wahaj that would have graced the World Test Championship final across the road at Lord’s. But instead we went slightly in the other direction of Primrose Hill for a pint with our always convivial oppo, with Stan and Blake picking up the tab for their fathers.

A week later we were back in north London to face North Enfield CC, with not one, nor two but three father-son combinations in the side (Harry Forman, Adam Eastaway and Sam Tunbridge being the relevant offspring) and a game that will quite possibly be talked about for generations to come. It was a rollercoaster affair on the steeply sloping Strayfield Rd ground, with more plot twists than an episode of Succession.

Put into the field we were under the pump immediately with Enfield opener Gillman racing to 79 from 47 balls and taking his team past 100 in the 13^th over. So we were grateful that Graeme held on to him under the tree and that the umpire deemed that a slight brush of a branch did not breach the local ‘can’t be caught off the copse’ rule. From there skipper Tunbridge Snr marshalled his increasingly limited resources (including injuries to himself, Kishen and Harry) expertly on a rock hard pitch where the short boundary on one side and the downhill on the other presents some impossible captaincy choices.

His saviour was his son and heir Sam, making his full ‘competitive’ debut after his first appearance in the intra-club anniversary ‘friendly’ last year. Sam (5-0-8-1) was exceptional, having to bowl from both ends and against the Enfield skipper Will Munt (who was on his way to an unbeaten century) in the last 10 overs. He found a consistency of line and length that has long eluded his father, and helped keep a total that had looked like it could easily exceed 300 to a tough but chaseable 222. A word too for Nikhil Gidwani (4-1-12-2), not just for his best bowling for the club but also for a worldie of a one-handed catch at midwicket that surprised no-one more than himself. Mike Duggan will also bowl a lot worse and take a lot more wickets than he did on debut here.

And then the chase. A bit difficult to write about objectively for me as really there can be few greater pleasures than putting on a 100 partnership with my son. And with Harry in this form the best thing for me to do was spend as much time as possible at the non-strikers’ end with the best view in the house. He found all corners of the quirky ground in his 86, with a couple of hits over long on that Harry Brook couldn’t have struck much further. He got us well ahead of the required rate before he departed with the score on 127. Chris McKeon and I then just about kept us on it, I inched my way past my club best score and then 50, and we took the total to 189-1 with seven to bowl before, well, we never make things easy for ourselves, do we?

191-2, 192-3, 194-4, 198-5, with an over going by each time too. So 25 still required with just three to bowl now. Hearts were in mouths. Fingers were in front of eyes. Whatsapp messages were pinging on phones in Melbourne, Manhattan, Berlin and Chennai. Enter the dads, Tunbridge and Eastaway Snrs, with clear heads, cold blood and killer heart rates fashioned from years of Mandarins poker and even more years of Mandarins collapses in front of the gates of victory. But that wasn’t the lesson they wanted to teach their sons. Graeme found the boundary every time we needed him to, taking 10 from the over to keep us in touch. The next was tighter but the dads stayed cool, leaving 12 required from the last. Dot. Four. Two. Four. Nothing less than finishing G-nious from the skipper. Two off two required. A single to take the scores level, leaving Rob to face the last. Calm enough to tap rather than swing, he pushed into the offside, scampered the single and brought the victory home, our joint second highest ever recorded successful run chase. There are fathers days, and then there are days for fathers to tell their grandkids about

Dan Forman 

Two in Two as Mandarins Win Again

So here we are at Brightwell once again, a small Oxfordshire village enjoying a recent population boom driven by our erstwhile PM. The Club is in some ways a ‘throwback ‘to traditional village cricket, no League membership, friendlies only and full of characters, some from my very own Hockey Club.

In line with tradition Capt. Heard, having won the toss, elected to bat, allowing time for the late arrivals to swell team numbers. Weather in South Oxfordshire had been extremely wet in the prior 48 hours and the soft wicket suggested ‘low bounce and stickiness in the outfield but ‘lo and behold’ the bounce was acceptable and the ball rolled well.

Thus out strode Williams and Hawkins to meet a carefully positioned fielding side. As the match was to be of thirty overs per innings, some confusion existed as to the batting tactics to be adopted. Thus musings suggested—10 overs of resistance, ten of acceleration and 10 of wonderful exuberance, as an imaginary strategy to be pursued. Their opening bowlers were being worn down successfully but a quick single was called, JH like a scalded cat hurtled to the bowlers end only to be dismissed by a direct hit!

Tony came forth but after some close shaves nicked one to slip. Old man Kulkarni joined Williams and the first period of resistance closed with 42 runs ,a rate of 4 per over and 2 dismissals. The middle section saw an acceleration by NK and JL, and ,as DW departed  the rate climbed to 5 per over with excellent running and hitting (the running even complemented by the opposition over a beer in the pub!). The prospect of a respectable 150 total was within reach. But now  Mandarin effervescence overflowed, more from Kulkarni reaching an elegant 50 before retiring, bringing Kishen to the wicket to continue the push. Runs were scored at a rate, JL departed after a fine vibrant and combative knock, bringing Wilmot to the crease who with a deft single clipped between his legs completed the innings with a grand total of 179.

Now to the attack, not defence. Eastaway and Heard, tearing in at ‘Mandarin Warp Speed’ threatened success but the opening bats were making good progress towards our total. AH removed a threatening bat with a caught and bowled and then ‘the oldest swinger in town’ deceived the next, gaining one of two LBW’s given this day. For a while the ball flew in the air scattering Mandarins like pigeons as they strove to  either, catch or avoid the ball and frustration was building. The Captain , with such a proliferation of skills at his disposal was inspired to bring on the multi-talented CH to bowl his swinging wobblers and make a further breakthrough. Yet now, enter Kishan who, seizing the day, sent 4 Brightwellians back to the pavilion knocking the heart out of the opposition. So for the ‘coup de grace’, Thompson and Kulkarni, smart stumping by JW we pushed for victory.

The last man fell from a spirited edge ,plucked out of the air by our substitute fielder ,young Aadi Kulkarni, with much glee and celebration.

Beer followed at the Red Lion.

Scorecard here

Cheers, David