Lumberjack Leisure Vs Dulwich 16th April 2017

Leisure met at the camel at 730ish for the trip to SRFC for the second match of the season.

Square Root was making a welcome return after being back in the UK on royal engagements and was obviously excited for the match day ahead. So excited that he had got hammered the night before and at about 3am Sunday morning decided to share some delightful prose in the match Wechat group, where he effused about each team member by trying to use a characteristic of their bashers name to describe them. In the lumberjack below, names will be followed in brackets by Rooty’s 3am description of said Basher.

Windy (Kunt; Rooty hadn’t met him before but still got it right) and Rash (my leftovers of a night before; not sure about this one, please explain Square Root) were no shows. The former texting the skipper the night before to say ‘he would definitely make it and don’t worry.’ but currently not answering messages or calls. The latter hungover and changing plans last minute to go direct.

Worst still when Tampon (my cushioning of a hangover) arrived at 7am, he found The Chancellor (My Lord! The head of wisdom to which no man can compare; debatable), waiting for the camel to open. Once we had gained access, we discovered the camel chef hadn’t arrived and it looked like we would be pieless. On the cusp of 730, as the bus was about to leave, the chef arrived and said she could warm the pies, which would take 10mins max. We all knew this was fanciful but we were hungry and so we agreed. A quick text to Dulwich to tell them we were having ‘bus trouble’ and could they set the field bought us some time and Tampon (my cushioning of a hangover) went to the kitchen to make sure the pies were warmed as fast as possible. Noting that the camel had refurbished the bar yet didn’t bother to refurbish the kitchen (maybe they ran out of money after spending it all on bricks and high stools?), Tampon watched the chef distributing the pies, which seemed particularly massive this week (shout out to our sponsor Fluffer and Tuck Shop Pies) between 3 ovens and a microwave in an attempt to get them from frozen to edible in 10 minutes. After about 15 minutes we decided we could wait no longer and so took the pies and left but not before Parrot (talking shit like no one on this earth) forced the terrified young chef to board the bus and apologise for the delay.

The pies were still cold of course, damn you Fluffer and your massive pies! On the bus journey we learnt that Bhenchod’s (my tea will flavour your life, Rooty referring to Bhenchod being a professional tea taster in this description) Grandfather was an officer at the Somme and after being defeated at said famous bloodbath went on a record run of unbeaten victories against the Bosch, kind of like the All Blacks of WW1. N.B. Most of the WW1 All Blacks got killed going over the top first at the Somme, probably on Bhenchod’s Grandfather’s orders ‘I’m right behind you boys!’ We all felt comforted by having some British Officer class in the team this week.

Arriving at the ground Tampon (my cushioning of a hangover) won the toss, making it 2 from 2 and decided to bat as Rash (my leftovers of a night before), Sharapova (for which no words on this earth are worthy) and Pope (delicious human being) had still not arrived.  Windy (Kunt) was a definite no show, but as we had 12 he was dispensable and would drink at a later point for his betrayal.

Tampon had suggested Parrot (talking shit like no one on this earth) and Spanner (the tool in my mind as I work the cogs of my bowling strategy; more on Rooty’s bowling strategy later) should open but Omega (My final thought as I fall asleep) said that as he and Parrot had successfully opened the batting the week before they should do it again. The captain agreed and Omega duly got out for 2 citing that this week’s ball felt particularly heavy. Spanner (the tool in my mind as I work the cogs of my bowling strategy) came in next and got the scoreboard moving with Parrot; Spanner eventually got out bowled for 33 bringing in Pope. President Parrot (talking shit like no one this earth; Rooty really nailed this description) was moving along nicely and scored 38 before also being bowled taking his Leisure average for the season to 88. Pope (delicious human being; as anyone who has seen pictures of Pope dressed as a nun on his stag night will tell you, this is a deeply flawed description) got 2 which brought Bhenchod (my tea will flavour your life) and Square Root to the crease. The aristocratic pair started to get things moving with some nice fluent batting, despite Square Root putting his back out to the second ball he faced. Once Rooty was out, Sharapova (for which no words on this earth are worthy) came in next and scored 10 then it was Rash (my leftovers of a night before) for 0, Birdshit (my morning song on the way to the bus) for 5 ending with Tampon (my cushioning of a hangover) not out 10 and The Chancellor (My Lord! The head of wisdom to which no man can compare) not out 1 and we had set a total of 152.

After a calamitous fielding practice, we took the field with Rash (my leftovers of a night before) and The Chancellor (My Lord! The head of wisdom to which no man can compare) opening the bowling. Rash must have had pies for dinner Saturday night as his bowling could actually be described as ‘serving up some leftovers from the night before’; and The Chancellor wasn’t being his usual wise and economical self, which meant that Dulwich got off to a not bad start. Sharapova came on next and provided the most economical bowling of the day despite not taking a wicket before Omega (My final thought as I fall asleep) came on to bowl and took two wickets, clean bowling two of the Dulwich batsmen whose final thought as they left the field was the sound of their wickets being rearranged. Best bowling of the day goes to Bhenchod who bowled his full 5 overs in a row without a single wide and was proving very economical until his penultimate over when he got tonked for 4, 6, 4, but in his last over took a wicket.

Before the match we had said Dulwich had two gun batsmen that we had to watch out for, one of them was in by this point but they also had a vacationing 15 year old Australian boy who was proving quite handy and who eventually retired for 50. At one point Pope (a delicious human being) stumped the 15 year old when he wandered out of his crease on a dead ball, so proving that he’s actually not such a delicious human being in the field.

We had originally hoped to bowl Square Root earlier in the match but after having fucked his back doing his first exercise in 6 months, he was looking particularly immobile. He did come on after drinks for a bowl, as the game drifted away, with his strategy being ‘keep me bowling or my back’ll cease up’. As Dulwich closed in on the target, Tampon did the bowling change of the day by bringing on Birdshit (my morning song on the way to the bus), who got a quick wicket but it was becoming apparent that Dulwich would more than likely chase down the total.

As we got to the last couple of overs and all the children playing for Dulwich had retired, Rash was brought back into the attack to try and take some wickets. Sharapova was heard to say in the field, “Rash, bowling again??” It was true, he was bowling and thanks to Birdie who fielded a comical 4 wides on the boundary off Rash’s bowling Dulwich only needed one to win, which they got with another wide.

Dulwich had chased us down in 22 overs but everyone had contributed in the match and things were looking up. The sun had come out so we had drinks on the SRFC terrace (sounds so romantic) before getting on the bus back to Camel for fines. Things got better as the cold pies from the outward journey were kindly warmed for us by SRFC for the journey back (great pies Fluffer) and we met up with the Judas Bashers, Bambi and Skiddy, for a fines sesh at the Camel before moving onto Hop project where Windy (Kunt) turned up to explain that his phone had run out of batteries and his alarm hadn’t gone off. He drank, we all drank, there were some pickle juice based shots and the day became a blur.