Pleasure Lumberjack Report: July 3

After waking up at 11.20 after having hit the snooze button too many times, I was proud of my effort to make it to the Camel by 11.40, and indeed not be the last to arrive. There the team assembled and the conversation was mostly about the weather, talk of plus 40 degrees and high 90’s humidity, and whether or not this would affect our decision to bowl first. Oh, and Swoop also expressed his opinion on the relative intelligence of the fairer sex.

Leaving the air-conditioned comfort of the bus on arrival at the SRFC, we passed our first major test and were able to make it to the far end of the field without loosing too many players through heat exhaustion. Having won the toss, our the skipper Tank reversed his decision and sent the opposition in to bowl in the sweltering conditions, to murmurs of agreement from those who still had the strength to murmur.

Pitstop and Pothole got away to a positively cautious start (positive by Pitstop, more cautious by Pothole), until Pitstops eyes lit up at a fullish delivery and lost his middle stump. This brought Omega to the crease, who in no nonsense fashion saw that there was little to be gained by running, and hit boundaries from his first four scoring shots. What looked to be the start of a very promising innings was sadly cut short after the first drinks session, which triggered a vintage Bashers middle order collapse, with the newly christened Basher Manoj “A Trois” Zalpuri, myself, Swahili, Tank and the enduringly patient Pothole all returning to the greenhouse we called a batting shed (Special mention goes to Tank for inventing a new shot, the lofted forward defensive shot).

Swoop provided some badly needed runs, before the youngsters Kitbag and Puberty went on to show the older members of the team how it is done, in what is becoming a consistent pattern. Billy unfortunately only got to face one ball, before we were bowled out for 149, not a bad effort in the conditions.

Hitting the field with confidence, a few loosish overs by myself were compensated for by some nice bowling by Kitbag, who soon snared one of the openers. Boundaries and wides were keeping the oppositions run rate ticking along, however the consistent taking of wickets was keeping us in the game. Swahili and Billy then bowled in beautiful partnership some miserly overs with more balls beating the bat (and in Billys case, the helmet) than was fair for them not to claim more wickets.

Tank brought himself on, and initially the radar was a little askew, his usual surgical strike accuracy giving way to a more blanket bombing approach. His second over however was much more on target, though he went for a few boundaries. This led to Omega being brought on, who was easily the pick of the bowlers, his tight zippy spinners chasing the batsmen back into their shells, and his was ably supported by Puberty at the other end.

This all lead to a very tight finish, the penultimate over being bowled by myself where I let the side down by bowling 2 wides after a very tight over. This put the responsibility on the shoulders of Swahili to bowl the final over with two runs to win. A ludicrously attacking field was then set, a single being stolen early on before Swahili then took the glory away from the opposition by scoring the winning runs himself with a legside wide.

Some satisfaction I guess can be gained from the fact that we kept ourselves in the match the entire time, any match that comes down to the final over is one that keeps the blood pumping, and the spirit and commitment of the team was never questioned. The new boys to the team all performed admirably, indeed Billy’s performance with the ball made us question the legitimacy of his being brothers with Sinbad. However, wides were once again the determining factor for us.

A great fines session was then had back at the camel, with A Trois being initiated, where he chose to throw the beer at his face rather than actually drink it. Mumma Sinbad sat in as a runner/drinker for Billy, which clearly shows she has placed her faith in the right son. After that it all kinda became messy for me. I remember sitting with The Korean, Tank and Filthy for a while discussing tactics, until it was suddenly just Filthy and I, and I was having to repeat every sentence due to slurring, and then I was in a cab on my way home at 1.30am, sending booty call texts to girls back in Australia, with whom I have never slept with or indeed even spoken to in several years.

Thank you Bashers once again, for bringing out the best in me.

• Sunday 3 July 2011 SRFC Far
  DPR Hot Dogs 150/8 (7.5)
  Bashers Pleasure 149/10 (3.09)