521/SH Breakfast Champion 360 Gradi Indian Kitchen Vicston

Bashers Cricket Club

Lumberjack – Leisure V Daredevils, 24th May 2015

Triple Header 2.2 – The Bloody Basher Blitzkrieg

How do you begin to write your first lumberjack for the 2nd Triple Header weekend and not only that, one that follows the rambunctious evening of the night before? Oh, like that I guess. I must warn you this is a long one. Are you sitting comfortably? Then let us begin. As a precursor, if any of the information contained below is mistaken, misleading, exaggerated or just damn right lies, well get stuffed, you can write it next time!

The Morning after the Night Before:

The morning began with some sorry looking Bashers showing the full extent of their excesses from the night before. With memories of two male Geishas and some extensive partying, still firmly in our minds, but hopefully not also in our dreams, the day began. Very little to no sleep was had by all, Fruitbox burst straight from his apartment with uncontainable jittery excitement. Correct that, not his apartment the ‘Apartment’. As we gathered and took stock, there was more than one trip required to the bathroom to try and expel the demons from within, before facing some other devils of a different breed. Six Bashers made it to the camel for the bus, Dags, Hardon, Messi, Fruitbox, Spanner and the as yet unnamed gay rapist, Nick Britz. Now it could be said that going on the bus together creates a team bond, a chance to nourish the Bashers’ camaraderie. Some would even go so far as to argue it is an essential part of the whole team ethos. This is in fact a false premise, especially if you have a Truffles arriving at the ground before you and bringing the required cacophony of ingredients for the simply gorgeous and much needed, Miss Bloody Mary. It was like being pulled back from the gates of hell (or taken back to pearly-cake steps of Nanjing) and from this moment forward the Leisure team were unstoppable. Well, almost…


Now that is what I call a welcome.

Now that is what I call a welcome.

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

Which at last takes us at last to some cricket- Dags was either missing, or elected not to take the responsibility of the toss, who knows? So Bullet stepped up to the plate and as if by some stroke of genius, zapped from the cloudy overcast sky above, he elected to take to the field first. On his return to Captain’s duty, Dags designated Hardon to open up the bowling attack against their strongest batsman Adash. Next up was Cranky who faced the loud and cocky Pamela. More on him later. Hardon bowled well, but at one point after some poor batting technique, which still happened to get fours somehow, the chirp piped up from the Daredevils “Can you bowl to us all day?” the next cobra-like delivery stung the batsman solidly in his mid-rift. It was only pathetic whimpers from then on in. At one point a ball was sent spaceward, coming down with a sprinkling of snow on top, straight into Messi’s hands. His earlier cheers for actually managing to focus and hold on to one (that was simply fielded to him) was still ringing in his ears; he had time to remove his cap, make a cup of tea and watch the ball go into his palms and then bounce straight back out of them, leaving a different kind of blood sister, as evidence of at least making contact with the icy meteorite.   This left Hardon ending his session unrewarded, with 0/38 off 5.

Meanwhile, Cranky was on a mission to take Miss Anderson down a peg or three, actually he wanted to drown the poor little bugger, with no hope of The Hoff saving the day. He basically talked his way into his wicket, twisting his brain inside and out, before dispatching his stumps in fine fashion, with the last ball of his 3rd over. This was quickly followed with a wicket in each of his last two overs, ending up with 3/22 off 5. At one point, we all thought we were on the beaches of California, the sun was shining, a cool breeze was gently blowing against our now rosy cheeks, but the waves of nausea were about to return from the deep within. In the distance, as if in slow motion, the C.J. Parker look-a-like came racing towards us, his golden locks flowing from side to side, up and down, up and down, up and down, but that was not all that was moving in such a way. Some things, once seen, cannot be unseen and this was one of those occasions. I am sure you can fill in the rest of this moobiopic cinematic double entendre.

‘El Capitan Dags’ looking down from his summit onto his shiny new footwear, put himself in to bowl next, supported by the ‘Duracel Bunny of Cricketers’, Fruitbox. Dags began a spell of bowling that was later praised as his best this year. The ball was swinging, catches were taken and bails were removed with aplomb. Fruitbox provided the perfect counterbalance to this devastating period of bowling prowess. He conducted his fielders, this way and that, two steps out, five steps in, move round, swap sides, do a silly dance. He had everything and the batsmen didn’t know where to hit the bloody thing. Dags and his awe inspiring shoes, ended with a decisive 3/24 off 4 and Fruitbox with a very tightly orchestrated and unforgiving spell of 2/19 off 4.

The exact details here are all a bit of a cloudy tomatoey mess, but some moments of clarity include Fruitbox and Spanner standing about 2 meters apart, looking longingly into each other’s eyes, with arms spread out readying for a hug, as the ball landed directly between them. I guess no-one called for that one and each was hoping the other was going to ‘make the first move’. At some other point in the day, but nobody here is exactly sure when, the ball was up in the air once more and the usually safe hands of Cranky was underneath. Let’s just say had we not been out the night before, it would have been a certain catch, but not today. A few balls later and the ball went straight to Bullet and without even needing to take a step, it finally stuck- followed immediately by the cry “Now that’s how you take catches!”, this was the catalyst the team needed. If Bullet is making a home for the ball to land in, the rest of the lads needed to step up. And step up they did, catches were taken as Cranky and Messi made up for their earlier fumbles, Hardon and Miyagi playing their part and Spanner taking an awkward sideways catch whilst under pressure from the non-striking batsman, determined to get in his way. We were back, and the Daredevils had their pointed tails between their legs.

As we took aim at these pitchfork wielding, pointed tail-enders, Birdshit and Messi were given the nod. Birdshit bowled accurately and did not give much away in his first over, however he did check to see if Miyagi was ready to put his gloves into action and Miyagi left us with little, to no doubt, that he was; in fact he proclaimed “he was born ready”. The next ball came up off the bat and straight towards his maternal birthing gloves…what seemed like an after pill later, the ball aborted itself onto the grass. Messi followed up with the next over and took his usual approach to field arrangement, i.e. stay where you are and get ready for a catch type of thing. His casualness and ability to follow a horrible wide with a confusing shifty looking ball, takes him from darkness back into the light, with some bowed but unbent, slower paced bowling. The batsmen predictably thinking they can hit him, which at times they can. This leads them into a false sense of security and the ball goes up in the air and is then caught with ease by Cranky. One wicket left and Birdshit enters his 2nd over and quickly dispatches the last man, bowling him clean. Messi coming from the ‘Grey’ and into the ‘Joy’, he always pays the iron price for his wickets, but it is a price worth paying, ending 1/16 off 1 and the far more economical and precise Birdshit finishing them off with 1/3 off 1 and a bit. The Daredevils end up 116 all out in under 21 overs. Marvellous!

Like a Bat out of Hell

Are you still with me? I will try to be more concise with the batting, I promise.

Coming off the field Dags was deep in thought over his master plan to overcome the deficit. He opted to open with Bullet and Hardon, giving the specific instructions not to get out for 5 overs, it didn’t matter about the runs, just stay in. They responded and almost did what was asked with a partnership lasting 4 overs. Hardon thought he was playing a test game and was so determined not to give his wicket away cheaply, that he occasionally forgot we also needed some runs. After Bullet faced 6 dot balls he went for an lbw. Out came the Bashers newest recruit, fresh faced and wet behind the ears, it was as if he came straight from a sex dungeon or basement that requires no sanctions, permission or authorisation, he was ready to make a name for himself, and he succeeded in just that. He faced the last ball of the over and then Hardon went back on strike, moments later Hardon hits the ball and then runs to the other end with ‘Britz the Debaucher’ staying firmly rooted to his spot looking dazed and confused, as if caught in the act of some male defilement. What was the reason given for this comedy of errors, I hear you ask? ‘He said no and I switched off’. We all got the feeling this was not the first time this has happened to him whilst facing a raging hard-on. It may have been an accidental pregnancy, but a new Basher was given life and Consent was born. Consent run out for 0.


New Basher – Consent


The arrival of Truffles saw the stem of fallen wickets subside, although the low run rate was starting to concern those on the edge of the field, still consuming Bloody Marys and beers and joining in to a remixed ‘Save Me’ rendition from the theme of Baywatch. Followed by our latest little Basherette – Firework, singing all manner of songs in exploding support for dad and the boys, from Katy Perry to Frozen, what a firecracker! In the 10th over Truffles hit one and was caught. He left the still standing to attention Hardon, with a score of 11 runs to his name. Meanwhile, on comes Spanner who does not do things by halves, smashing his first ball to the boundary in unrivalled style and etiquette; unfortunately he hit another one on his next delivery and was caught, scoring 4 runs. Cranky was next to face the music and quickly bedded himself in, hitting a couple of glorious fours before breaking for drinks with the Bashers score at a humble 48-4.

We knew we needed a big innings from Cranky and he duly obliged, as he continually hit the ball around the ground and even literally out of the ground at one point. Hardon managed to play a supporting role to this domination, but after starting to swing the bat a bit more ended up being caught in the 17th over. An amazingly composed display, keeping us in the game with 23 hard-earned runs. Cranky meanwhile with Fruitbox in tow, produced a magnificent 54 runs retired.  Miyagi came on to finish off the job, scoring a single run, not out. Fruit box, knowing we only needed 3 more runs to win, patiently waited for the right ball. If he was going to win the game and take the glory, he was going to do so in style. A feat which was achieved a few balls later as he took aim and fired a glorious four and the Bashers were on target for achieving their weekend whitewash. Fruitbox ended up with 14 not out.

The Inglorious Bloody Aftermath

We came to the ground, a variety of shades of greens and greys, we were the beaten and bruised victims, attempting to redeem ourselves for our sins and facing the Beelzebub, however, we left as Hail Bloody Marys and feeling like champions, and indeed we even sang the song to prove it! The bus journey back was full of singing and dancing, Dags and Truffles showing particular finesse with their moves on the bus. A fantastic weekend was had by all and we celebrated in true Bashers’ style, finishing the rest of our beers and half of the Business team’s supplies as well, eeek! (although we did manage to send them some more cases back). We left the ground with hope and anticipation for our fellow Bashers to complete the task and they dutifully replied.

An amazing weekend! Well done to everyone, especially Fruitbox, who went on to play his 3rd game of the weekend with no sleep, what a trooper





Copyright © 2023 Bashers Cricket Club.
Log in -