A Leisure v Devils Lumberjack – But not the one you’ve been waiting for.

The Leisurists arrived at Wellington in dribs and drabs greeted by a damp, heavy outfield and a scattering of devils laying out the boundary rope with little apparent enthusiasm. 

The pre match routine was notable for the appearance of the lesser spotted James Gooding, Basher #3, after a hiatus lasting over a decade. With the return of a fabled founding member also come the failed appearance of Fruitbox’s Turkish attaché, the D1 captain filling in for his exotic friend. Natural announced it was his last game before returning home and there was a sense of determination to make it a fitting swansong for the man with the Cheshire cat grin.

Fisty Cymbals contrived to lose the toss but came out the winner anyway as the opposing captain made the rather baffling decision to invite us to bat then immediately asking to borrow a fielder. The skipper declined, politely but firmly and not unfairly. 

Tipsy Pringles elected to open with Pope, the second surprising decision of the day given his scratchy form with the bat all season. All eyes, however, were on the appointment of scorer – such a crucial role these days in the outcome of the game and the mood in the camp generally. Birdie took the reins and we all felt in safe hands, anxious to avoid being labelled a bunch of rabble again. 

Session ales were cracked, pads were donned and the opening pair strolled out to a ripple of gentle applause. The devils had been slow to get ready, their inability to show any kind of urgency already emerging as something of a theme for the day. Some further faffing about between keeper and helmet, some huffing and puffing by the increasingly irritable Crispy Dimples, and we were off. 

With gaping holes all about runs were not hard to come by and at times it felt like the devils were missing more than just the two men, so quiet was it among the field. The friendly conditions were soon taken advantage of. The batsmen moved the ball around and ran as hard as could be expected given the humidity. The good start came to an end after Frisky Nipples skied one to the keeper to give the beelzebubs a barely deserved breakthrough. In walked Gooding and he quickly showed us just what we’d been missing all these years with a delicately feathered cut shot straight into the keepers gloves, for a golden. Bowlers first ball of the day and well taken too. 

Omega wandered casually in from square leg and immediately looked to attack, with some lusty blows from the get go; in front of square on the leg side being a particularly fruitful area of his scoring. A solid partnership was building with Pope and with plenty of extras thrown in for good measure the score edged up to 100. It was around this time that controversy struck with a fielder refusing to acknowledge the ball had hit the boundary rope when asked by the umpire. He could probably have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for those pesky opposing players located right at the scene witnessing the whole thing with their very own eyes. Once Fifty Singles had had his now customary shouty meltdown, normal service resumed – apart from the baying crowd continuing to make their displeasure known. 

After proceeding quite serenely to 30, Pope’s eyes lit up when the portly captain brought himself on to bowl. The inevitable followed first ball up – going back and missing a straight one, bowled middle stump. At least the run of ducks had been curtailed. Omega had ridden his luck a fair bit, being dropped 3 times, but kept things moving and eventually departed for 30 at an eye catching strike rate of 150. By this point it was 107-4, helped along by a healthy flow of wides down leg. Fake News anchored the lower order with a gritty innings of 25* aided by useful contributions along the way from Schlost and Giraffe. As the 9^th wicket fell and since Fruitbox was unable to bat as he’d played up too many times, there was some chat on the sidelines as to whether we should request last man in could continue with a runner at the other end. Skip was having none of it, not of a mind to ask for favours given how he had responded to theirs. Fair enough. We ended on 157/9, their spinners doing most of the damage – beneficiaries mainly of the lack of respect being shown to them.

After the turn Giraffe started encouragingly, teasing away at a good line and length. We presumed that their two latecomers were their star batsmen – the only explanation for the decision at the toss. But one of them, the opener, didn’t do that presumption much justice, spooning up a leading edge to Gooding to take a regulation catch on only his second ball faced. Relieved to have partially redeemed himself with some belated positive input to the game, #3 would have felt even better on hearing some in the field getting behind ‘The Contributor’ as a potential basher name (side note; he had remained un-named up to this point, 14 years after his debut – names clearly not being mandatory back in the very early days). 

Our tails were now up and with The Contributor probing at the other end things got tasty. With few runs coming off the bat the unrelenting pressure soon told and before we knew it the devils found themselves at a scarcely believable 15-6, all the wickets being shared by the opening pair. Just reward for bowling in consistent areas if in truth the wee lucifers were somewhat complicit in their own downfall with poor shot selection. Giraffe bagged 4 wickets and his best return of the season matched only by The Contributor’s return from the wilderness. 

Natural, who never quite managed to get going with the bat as a basher, had no such troubles with the ball, producing some steepling bounce and generally unsettling the batsmen with his natural (see what I did there) variation. With U-Turn holding down the other end, Natural weighed in with two wickets and, crucially, removed the second latecomer – the only one to show any resistance to the onslaught. Schlost hurled down a few looseners before finding his rhythm and showed great pace and menace, with the promise of wickets to come in the future. A (you will forgive the author) smartly taken stumping off Omega was the last of the wickets before a tail-end grudge match ensued between Omega and his boundary-denier which resulted in a victory for the charlatan who hit 2 of the last 3 balls for four, with the pressure very much off. 

The better-late-than-never rearguard action gave some semblance of respectability to their score, which ended 108/9 after 25 overs. But the victory was never really in doubt after the devastating opening spell. Other notable efforts in the field were Birdie’s alacrity at backward point, Fakey’s two dropped catches and Fisty’s attempt to go aerial without his feet leaving the ground. Seems he’s only mobile horizontally. 

It should come as no surprise that post-match we had some beers though no fines session on this occasion. The Contributor was confusingly given a different name, Boomerang, and happily slurped from the box. The sun came out and we settled in to savor the sweet taste of victory and watch D2 flex their muscles (then play some cricket). Happy days.