Sat. 5 May 2007 = WG v Polegate - League

Polegate 222-5

Isfield 140 all out

Polegate 30 pts, Isfield 8 pts.

A SAD AND SORRY TALE

An old man I met upon ye old green sward up yonder in the village told me a story that made my hair grow white and my toenails curl up and die. He was brushing the detritus of the weekend's excitement from the tired pitch with a toothbrush and he bent my ear with a tale of woe and misery. Shuffling his feet in clogs of wood and turning his eye slyly from mine, he relayed the sadness of the to-ings and fro-ings of the match.

Apparently, he had partaken in the event, even at his great age which could be counted in the myriad rustling leaves of a small copse and in a way held himself partly responsible for the tragedy of defeat. Adjusting the strings about his knees he admitted to me in strictest confidence that it was he who bowled the last over which was smitten for many lusty blows by the champion bat of Polegate, thus allowing the visitors from afar to reach the maximum batting points and immediately declare their innings closed.

In reply, old master Tim cast off his crutches and playing like a new born lamb of many yesteryears, batted like the long lost youth of summers past. Our own champion batter of great repute, young Chasseaud, did likewise accumulate, if not merrily then at least with steadiness of will. But this happy situation did not last. As if stung by the maddening midges of insanity, the team threw themselves from the bridge of safety to the rocky chasms of calamity below.

One stout fellow stood between inglory and an honourable draw. Lazarus himself, in the shape of Chris Saunders, did gird his loins and others parts too painful to describe, held firm as others tumbled. The safety of the end of the day was drawing nigh but with cruel destiny flapping her black wings, the old man did a terrible deed. On the last ball of the over before the pulling of those wooden pillars from the blessed ground, he was consumed with madness and took a run leaving him to face the final six deliveries. With failing eyesight he peered forth at the bowler but was deceived by a clever straight ball shadowed by the dark oak behind and was bowled through his gate that had been left ajar. Alas poor Isfield you have met your nemesis at last, your proud record has fallen as did in ancient days the lore was of Troy. Oh Hector, why were you off to Pakistan as your subjects were sent into the captivity of unhappiness. Those whom the gods would destroy first make cricketers.

The End.

jh (with acknowledgements to Tolkien, Homer and Samiuddin)

M Fellows - 10-0-50-2
Saunders - 15-5-45-1
D Williams - 12-2-65-1
H Williams - 3-0-23-0
Farley - 4-0-33-1

Catches for E Chasseaud and M Farley

T Knight 46,

S Newham 2,

E Chasseaud 47,

M Farley 0,

H Williams 0,

M Barrett 8,

S Bailey 0,

Saunders 16*,

Jamie Hall 1,

M Fellows 1,

D Williams 1.