The Swelling Scene
Text message from Swoop the previous day to all D2 players was that neither sex nor masturbation was allowed prior to the game. Only the married guys saw this as a major interruption but heeding the call the tissues were placed back in the cupboard. G’rilla had one of the most beautiful women in Shanghai beg him to take her and be ravished by the hairy one but the call to arms by Skip Swoop meant more and he declined her advances. He couldn’t have afforded her anyway. Only Tantric understood the patience.
Everything was focused towards the day’s game. Victory would mean a spot in the final against the Devils and a shot at the Prize. All blue balled and tall the Bashers were heaving for the game to begin and Swoop won the toss and to bat we began.
Hollywood faced 16 balls without scoring until he cleanly snicked one between keeper and first slip. Neither moved to snare the prize wicket of “Papa” Hollywood, and as he said later, “he found the gap” and he was away. His opening partner Korean fell for five and was replaced by “Terra” cotta when serenity began. The sun yawned its way through The Simpson’s-like clouds and the batsmen picked singles, left the bad balls as the Bashers behind the boundary like toddlers either slept or were distracted by Hard On’s Hitler jokes unbeknownst that the two Bashers in the middle were getting the job done.
And it was warm and lovely…the bees buzzed…the pretty girls…ah serenity…
I wandered lonely as a cloud
that floats on high ‘o’er vales and hills,
when all at once I saw a crowd
A host, oh fuck we’re one for 80 odd!
Awoken from the slumber the “wood’ and “terra” had taken us to an unBashers like openingesque stand as we blinked into the sun when we saw them at drinks. One fa! Now we watched. Twelfth and thirteenth men Hard On and Bullet had played early game entertainment but now the cricket took centre stage. Terra was sublime in his effortless back-footed guides over and across the boundaries. On the front foot he placed and fooled the dirty dogs to run and chase his nonchalance as he ran and stood his way to 34.
A fine innings cut short with a run out.
But Hollywood. Hooray for Hollywood!
Given a life he took the opportunity provided and then as you do with a puppy to teach it not to shit where it wants, grabbed the Dogs and shoved their noses in it. He smeared them with drives that had them running chasing their own tails. He made them eat what they served up with some extraordinary hitting over the mid-wicket and one of the finest shots over the long-on boundary that has been witnessed in many a year. Hollywood did to the Dogs what we have been saying what we will do to them for many years. And in spades as the boundaries flowed and inked themselves onto the scorecard.
Hollywood batted to the end without losing his wicket on 84. An outstanding performance. He was allowed his merry way with support from Post Op and Shrek and probably Cranky’s finest two runs he has ever made.
218 for the Bashers and Hollywood a hero.
To the Field
The last time you saw Cranky with such a serious look on his face was when Cristina said, “Denzyl, I’m pregnant,” to which he replied “Does this mean I have to be home before sunrise”?
Like 12 years ago he came to the party. The poor openers were shocked that the 105 kilo maybe 120 kilo 40-something could possibly run in and bowl with any kind of venom. Korean at keeper said to the slip cordon: “We better back up a couple of metres boys.”
The big fella stripped the years back and bowled like it was 2005. He hurried the openers who never looked comfortable and he had one caught behind and the other keen to get away from the fiery bearded-one panicked, and their number 2 and 3 were at the same end. Korean hurled the cherry down to Cranks who whipped off the bails. 2 for 5 in the 3rd over.
The Bashers could smell blood and they were unrelenting. Fueled with the desire to get to the bar early, the skipper decided to open the bowling with his medium swingers and created carnage. Happy to be away from Cranky they thought they would get relief with the slow bowler. How wrong they were. The breeze had picked up and the ball was as red as Bullet’s butt cheeks (more on this later) and kept its shine throughout the innings. The batsman opened the shoulders but as the ball swung, seamed and sizzled the ball went up and Swoop had 3 wickets caught by some fantastic catching from Toe and Omega. Toe had to run some 400 metres to reach the ball and caught it like it was nothing. Omega’s catch came from a ball that was in the air for so long that Post-op took a crap and came back to see the ball comfortably sitting in Omega’s timely two hands. 4 wickets for the skipper.
The Dirty Dogs were 8 for sweet bugger all.
Terracotta and Tantric (who once again missed out on batting and bowling duties) led the way with some fine stops and running. The same couldn’t be said for G’rilla’s attempt at a catch. Statues have made better efforts. Shrek finished the innings off with two wickets in his only over and the day was done. The Dogs all out for 74. The Bashers win by 144. One of the finest performances from a Bashers team in its history.
The jugs were bought and a raucous Fines session began four hours after 12th and 13th men Hardon and Bullet began theirs. They in turn were supported by Mouse and Woody, both attired with jackets and the wit of winners.
There was discussion of putting Hardon and Swahili in a room together with 24 beers and see what coherent conversation was possible after a few hours. But this was disrupted by Bullet challenging himself to streak and he became so overwhelmed with his own position that without hesitation dis-robed in front of everyone and streaked 20 meters up the field. A Basher’s first. When he realized that the game he needed to streak through was a further 500 metres away he sheepishly turned around with his tackle covered by his enormous mittens. No wonder his Mrs calls him “horse.”
The Terra C sang us home on the bus with some of the most ribald songs you have ever heard and he has become the Bashers official song starter as we all screamed out the choruses to damage the moral development of Cranky’s Hot Head.
A great win and a great attitude, that will be fuel for the final on October 12. Book your tickets Bashers. It’s gonna get wild!