9.20 am Sunday Morning, 5 overs in against Pudong Dads and Lads, and Bashers Leisure is 5-34.
Jaguar: “It is a collapse”
We took it a bit too far perhaps? The bus driver had removed our first carton of empties at 8.30am, and we slipped in a few more before Game on at 9. We opened the SRFC bar at 9.15 after a solid start with the Spanner quickly into double figures…smoooth. But 9.20am ??? Five-for???
The Bashers tent is a blur of pads, with an impatient fielding team as a backdrop. We’ve got four new guys…bit on, bit off at the moment. Tantric has kept his shades on so we’re not sure, but there is a fair chance he realises he is at the crease.
Our worst fears are confirmed when, just minutes later, Captain Dags informs us, “I think the collapse is working against us.” Confidence plummets, and then….
THAT Delivery….the Delivery of the Season.
From out of the East, a merchant arrives on foot, holding aloft the bright Helmet of Green and the Shoes of Grip, and presents them to the Jaguar.
Jag gets the kit on: “Superb!” The parade is distracting but, hang on….9.40am, 10 overs and 64 without further loss?
Tantric and The Hustler are taking the opposition apart with precision placement; forcing wides and fielding mistakes. The partnership passes 50 and the Pudong attack collapses under the pressure.
Loose reckons he’s feeling the love while Tantric lives the dream. Opposition shattered… nothing left. Loose and Dags follow to clean up the mess and compile a completely viable total of a 140 something.
Hell yeah we can bowl at this. Loose rips into it. Terrifies them! Woodstock…same! They keep it up. Lean as, and wickets are starting to go. The Gear is faultless at the stumps so the bowlers open up. And then a few of the surprise weapons…. The Hustler can’t take his eyes off middle, suckers everyone with off spin at 120 kmh and picks up 3…. The Pope, who can really swill the pubes in a Bashers Cup, sends a few more Pudong souls to heaven, Mule picks another two troublemakers off. Shit shoes hasn’t (he reckons) touched a a ball all game and throws himself into his only opportunity with complete disregard for personal safety. And then the Jag! Mama mia! He’d thrown down the stumps once without success…but, just balls later wraps up the Basher’s victory by shattering them from many metres away with a direct hit.
Huge comeback performance to make the win so satisfying. Welcome to the four new Bashers, who could still taste victory at the Camel well into the afternoon:
#196 Benedict “The Pope” Collins (finding the gaps in Basher confession coverage)
And if you haven’t been drinking at The Camel, eating Kooka Pies, swilling Just Beer, or picking up some downtown space at Swire …get amongst it!
PS If anybody sees Parrot, could you ask him to report to the central commentary position.
2012 Division Three
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