IOW
2009
So here we are… another year
and another tour of the
So, I thought I would come out
of retirement to report on the events and to give my views of what transpires.
For me it started on the
morning of Friday 15th.
I arose after having worked
the previous night and consequently only managing to get 2 hours sleep.
My relatively short walk in
order to catch the airport shuttle bus was taken in a cloudless and
sun-drenched sky and my mind wandered to thoughts of Jim’s weather reports and
David’s perennial ordeals in attempting to produce the perfect wicket.
Arriving at an overcast, cold
and drizzly Gatwick, I was suddenly struck with in instant urge to return to
whence I had come from.
Bugger this; I was always a
fair-weather player at best, and since succumbing to the Spanish lifestyle. My
body is not conditioned towards such extremes of weather.
If I had bothered to have learnt any colourful phrases of the cursing
kind, in Castellano, then at this point I would have probably uttered them.
Anyway, we now jump to the
infamous last home game before the tour.
A match which has become
synonymous amongst the ranks purely due to the fear factor.
It all started three years ago
when the first tour was finalized.
A certain individual (chairman
Knight), thought it would be a good idea to introduce a full size duck suit to
the proceedings.
It was agreed, between the
chairman and the usual other suspects (Steve, Colin, Eggy etc…) that the bearer
of the suit would be the last person to score a duck in any of our matches,
including the last game before the tour.
This then, would insure that
somebody was made to adorn the garment upon arrival at the first match during
the tour.
And so the last game has
become a nerve filled roller coaster ride of emotions. Which some tourers
actively try to avoid playing in (you know who you are).
This year, as with every other
year (and it has to be said, every match) I was favourite to wear it.
So, WG v The
Greys, Sunday 17th May.
I arrived at the ground and
although cold, the sun drenched the Gudges.
It was like a chance meeting
with an old girlfriend.
She looks fantastic, and you
remember all the good times that made your union so perfect… including those
things that she did, which you wished some of your other girlfriends would do
for you.
Anyway, it all soon changed,
as the sun disappeared and the rain came… needless to say, it was cold, bloody
cold.
Something happened between the
captains and it was agreed to play a 40 overs game (club captain Steve wasn’t
pleased).
We started the bowling with
Tom Fantom at one end and Jamie (jeez how he’s grown) at the other.
Nothing really happened for a
while, apart from a lot of catches going down including the easiest, which was
directed at me…
doh! (Did I
mention it was cold?).
Tom eventually got a wicket,
whilst Jamie should have had one, but toiled well none the less before being
replaced by new / old boy Terry.
Simon, who up until that point
had dropped every ball that came near him (I’m sure he only did it, to make me
feel better though) caught a ball over his head that was rattling along (hoorar!).
Various others did things
(including highly impressive & destructive bowling from Neal), like
catching and taking wickets etc… but the star of the show had to be Terry whose
figures as you would expect I don’t know… and I don’t, but he and they, were
impressive to say the least. Especially the last catch, which was taken with
all the grace of a an Atlantic Salmon (the wild kind, not the ones that are
kept in cages out in the Atlantic and fed drugs to make them appear healthier
than they actually are… but now I think about it maybe he should have been
asked to provide a urine sample just to be sure).
And so, finally we were
allowed to retreat to the warmth of the pavilion and a beautifully prepared
Neil type tea (that man has such soft hands).
This was the highlight of my
day and with only 132 to beat surely I could relax after the tea and let those
people who pertain to be batsman, get on with it.
But no, those amongst us who
had more devious ideas thrust me up the batting order in an obvious and brazen
attempt to assure that the duck suit would belong to me.
James batted beautifully and
went on to score 50, whilst the club captain opening at the other end decided
to make himself
favourite for the suit by knocking it straight back to the
bowler for 0 (what normally would have been muffled sniggers, became
exasperated howls of laughter directed towards his plight).
Joe, whose his hair these
days, shockingly resembled the old pictures of David Williams (see pavilion
walls for conformation) batted like Steve should have, including hitting a
wonderful 6. But then, he too, clipped it softly to an astonished fielder.
Emile went it, and they tried
to change things by bringing on their Afghan star bowler. Who only stopped
freezing altogether by managing to get James to rocket one back to him… and so
I was in.
But not before the umpire
(Colin) tried to take everybody off for bad weather. However, it turned out,
that as it was only Colin who wanted to come off, everybody carried on playing.
The anticipation was
excruciating and Steve readied himself to pass the suit my way.
Why do they have so little
faith?
After facing a couple of
balls, I bided my time until one popped up just right to sweep.
A howl of disappointment was
followed by a chorus of boos from the club captain and eventually he decided he
could better manipulate the wearer of suit by becoming the umpire.
The rain and cold became
worse, which prompted me to ask the then umpire (Neal) if I could come off for
bad light and when I was told no, I asked if I could come off to go back to
Eventually when the cold
became too much and realising there was a lot of good
batting after me, I decided to swing at everything and was caught behind. (hooray, warmth)
The batting then collapsed and
the umpire released a huge roar of laughter when Simon was dismissed for 0
(needless to say, the umpire was Steve)
A subsequent roar of laughter
came from the showers when the news reached Simon that Sam (the shuffle) had
ducked.
Eventually due to fine batting
from Emile, Neal and lastly Tom we reached an easy victory and the wearer of
the duck suit had been decided.
Shame
on all those who continue to have me as favourite for
this.
Monday 18th
May
Ooh the excitement (oh, and
the rain), the tour this year would include three virgins in Brinky, Antonius,
and Mark Farley.
By the time we made it to the
ferry, we had already lost the first game against Brading
due to a supposed ’water-logged’ pitch.
But, spirits high and the
fines officer (Brinky) was already busy administering the miss-demeanours such as…
Tim Knight - driving offences
James - for bringing his dad
Martin - for bringing his son
Ollie - for wearing a umpa lumpa
kit
Lee - for being injured (as
usual)
We went to the famous Crab
& Lobster pub / restaurant for lunch and the sun shone, allowing us to sit
outside and eat our assorted fish dishes.
Afterwards the great room dash
took place at Pondwell and thanks to the custodians
of the site. Our so called ‘noddy‘, cricket bats
& stumps had been kept for us from the previous year.
Almost immediately, the
construction of the Captains cockta…. ahem concoction
lounge took place at a
feverish pace.
‘Noddy’
cricket ensued and all was well at Pondwell (unless
you were one of the other guests that is).
To make amends for the lack of
evening 20/20 cricket, it was decided that we should go and play ten pin
bowling (old uns v young uns).
As we started, Steve in
cohorts with Emile (well most thought that anyway) suggested we should all put
one pound in for a winner takes all, highest score pot.
It soon became obvious that,
Emile was a bit of a ringer at the game and that the old uns,
due to fact they were likely to have children and as thus were highly likely to
spend time in such establishments. Were, in fact, quite adapt
at the game.
In the end though, it was the
narrowest of victories for the old uns that sent them
into a state of euphoria and prompted some of the young uns
to go off and practice their punching on the boxing machine.
(laughter
and jokes about sexuality followed)
We then made our way to the
now, traditional pre-tour curry night and all was spicy, especially Mark (eh eh) Farley who claimed he thought a vindaloo
was a mild curry and then proceeded to go very red indeed.
Cockta…
ahem (sorry) concoctions were taken in the captains lounge (#27
I think) was the drink of the night.
Tuesday 19th
May
It seemed Pondwell
rose rather reluctantly to the sound of Ollie (Umpa)
and Steff (when are going to stop growing) playing Noddy cricket. So slowly, very slowly the team arose and
assembled to watch the proceedings.
I, from the warmth of bed,
managed to procure a cup of tea via Jim as he passed my window. Who then went
on to give me a weather report… it was still cold, but sunny.
Then the convalescent hut
(Jim, Simon, & Tim) decided to take breakfast outside my bedroom window by
eating ‘al fresco.
Other hut’s followed suit and Pondwell became a picture postcard for the British summer.
Off we went then, to do battle
with
Porchfield once
again looked fantastic. I would have to say that this is my favourite
fixture, purely for it’s geographical location. For me
it’s the IOW equivalent of Street and although the Bakeries themselves may not
have been as strong as we would wish or want, they are all, the most hospitable
and warmest team that we are fortunate enough to play here, by far.
Eggy was captain and after
losing the toss we were put into bat.
Jim and Steve opened, the club
captain was still looking for his first runs of the season and with his fuchsia
pink socks glistening in the Porchfield sun it wasn’t
long before he avoided the dreaded duck suit.
Buoyed by this upturn in his
performance, he then went on to steal the strike from Jim as much as he could.
Jim, fresh from breaking another finger, was steadfast, elegant and quite
obviously, still mad.
Steve eventually got out after
having being dropped and James was introduced into the fray.
James didn’t appear to look his usual comfortable self until Jim was replaced
by Ollie and all of a sudden the old adversaries were pitted once again, in
union for the WG cause.
Both now, started to play
beautiful cricket and the race was on for who would score the first six.
This distinction,
would eventually fall to James and once he had reached fifty he then tried as
hard as possible to play with Newham like prowess,
whilst attempting to get out.
Ollie,
reached his fifty and with them both now letting rip the score rattled along at
a pace.
Ollie was dismissed first and
Tim went out with ’duck avoidance’ on his mind.
This he did and then he was
duly dismissed, which brought about the introduction of the overseas player.
This had been eagerly
anticipated by travelling throngs for some time and a hush settled around the
ground, as those who had foolishly betted on him being out for a duck were left
cursing their luck as the overseas player once again went on to defy the odds
and play with distinction (shame on you all).
Eventually we finished our
innings on 256 and a by now, a welcome and warm tea was taken.
Eggy decided to open with
himself as he had done the previous year and was ably assisted from the other
end with Martin Fellows and Antonius (on his debut) behind the sticks.
And so, Eggy set his field…
always a humorous performance and something we all seem to enjoy (some of us
placed bets on how long it would be before he would claim injury).
Eggy, facing their young and
very adept opener, clipped his bat on the offside and the ball flew into
Antonius’s gloves, first ball.
Eggy, was beside himself and
it looked for a moment as if he might spontaneously combust.
Antonius was relieved,
surprised, and besides himself all at the same time. Spirits were raised as the
weather seemed to get worse and colder.
Eggy then went on to get a
wicket in his next three overs and all signs of the normal physical breakdown
were forgotten.
Martin’s first over went for
nine… a stat that wasn’t helped by an easy leg side dab that was allowed (by
the overseas player) to trickle under his body for four.
I would like
to point out that for the first time in my WG playing history,
I was actually not displeased at the thought of my error. Because as soon as I
saw it, I knew that the club captain had been forced into chasing the offending
ball down to the boundary… always a pleasant site.
Martin then went on to dismiss
their captain with a delivery that he had clipped legside
and which forced Antonius into a fantastic legside,
diving take. All, went bonkers and shouts of ’sign him up’ were heard to ring
out.
During the mass
congratulations Martin was heard to thank Alfonso for his sterling efforts
behind the sticks and… hang about did Martin call Antonius Alfonso?
He had of course and much
laughter ensued, this was quickly shortened to Fonzie
by Ollie and a nickname had been born.
By the fourth or fifth over,
they were four wickets down and we were trying to think about ways to slow our
progress down. Eventually it was decided the easiest way to do this was to
bring the overseas and Farley on into the attack, punctuated with a bit of
practice for Steff (who had been struggling with
constipation). This then, surely would help remove the offending blockage
whilst removing the now steadfastly blocking out batsmen who were aiming for a
draw.
Alas no; Porchfield
defended stoutly and not even the awesome sight of the overseas player bowling
line and length after a year abroad could dazzle them into making an error.
Eventually Ollie was brought
on and we all began to get excited. Prior to this, the only excitement had been
the discovery that amongst us had been placed by the fines ‘Nazi’ sorry officer, an on field snitch (James). Who, at one point
produced a piece of paper and a pen from his person (were he had these hid god
only knows) to make notes of the supposed indiscretions.
Unusually for Ollie, he wasn’t
instantly as destructive as is the norm with Ollie and we all had to wait until
with four overs to go, he dismissed what had been Porchfield’s
best bat of the day, with his worst delivery of the day.
Eventually after a couple more
dismissals the game fizzled out into a de-facto draw, under by now, be-calmed
and quite beautiful evening skies.
Drinks, fines, and jokes were
administered liberally and we all relaxed with the fantastic Porchfield team.
Antonius (sorry Fonzie) was heard to say “It had been a number of years
since he’d had balls slapping in his palms” (Ooh err missus)?
On the way back to Seaview, Ted Ted, unusually was scuppered by an
un-helpful road diversion and an even more un-helpful navigating team (Martin
& Sam).
We stopped to get provisions
at Tesco’s and buy fish and chips.
Drinks were taken at the ’under
new management’ Wishing Well pub and then later on at the Captains concoction
lounge.
Woody re-counted a tale of man
who wore glasses so thick he needed fuck**g good eyesight to see through them.
Wednesday 20th
May
The day started with the
eventual movement of Steffs bowells, apparently at approximately 10.30 am,
without any screams.
The now fashion for al-fresco
breakfasting continued and possibly maddest bunch of mariners had already left
for a day out on the high seas.
Fish suppers, were merely a
formality, we had been informed and what could possibly go wrong on the good
ship Otro Mundo with
Steve, Martin and Mark Farley as able semen (sorry seamen)?
Lee ran around the site eager
to prove his fitness, a problem that was belayed by his constant limping when
forgetting he was supposed to be ready for the fray and the fact that one of
the selectors was on a boat in the
The sun shone with a little
warmth for the first time.
(Have
I mentioned, it’s been cold?)
Whilst studying the figures,
Brinky commented “it was no wonder the crowd went to the pub, when there was
eighteen maiden overs bowled”.
Lee decided that after failing
to fool anybody into picking him for today’s match, he wasn’t going to come and
watch the game (ho hum, prams & toys etc…).
And so we arrived at Ryde cricket club, scene of our worst performance during
the previous tour… only this time we’d brought reinforcements.
Unfortunately during the
course of a pre-tour phone call between the match managers (ours being Colin)
our increased strength was kept secret in order to provide us with a perceived
tactical advantage.
There was however just one
flaw in this tactic.
What if Ryde
didn’t field a strong enough side?
And so it was,
that upon arrival we were faced with a team that could be described in many
ways but none of them polite.
So let’s just say, a very weak
side that even needed the use of one of our players.
Much to the glee of all, it
was decided that we should call Lee and invite him to show us what a mistake we
had made when showing concern for his well-being by leaving him out of the
side.
Lee arrived broke a bottle of
bottle that he had forgotten he had hidden in his kit bag on the changing room
floor and shortly afterwards, one of their players was injured and so now our
overseas was thrown into the fray also.
Although Ryde,
complete with both Lee and our overseas were still an incredibly under-strength
side.
So much so, that I am barely
able to write about such an appalling spectacle.
Maybe it’s due to the fact
that we were all so excited about playing this fixture?
Maybe it’s because there was
finally going to be a sun-filled day that had a bit of warmth to it?
Maybe it’s because some of us
wanted revenge so badly for the previous years
experience?
Maybe it’s just because it’s
such a nice place to play.
Well ok, I‘ll try my best but
nothing really happened, honest.
Something occurred with the
coin toss and we were put into bat.
Jim and Colin opened the
batting and with Ryde having one talented Kiwi
playing for them, he tied the two of them down adeptly, with some fast line and
length bowling.
Although at the other end,
there seemed to be all manner of balls being thrown towards them.
Unperturbed by this assortment
of bowling, Colin and Jim began to move steadily (oh so steadily) towards
building a foundation.
Nothing much happened after
that really.
People came and went, the events were briefly livened up when Ryde introduced WG’s Lee &
Overseas into their bowling attack.
Although Lee, did what he
always does in such situations and tried too hard and hence struggled to control
the ball at all.
We went on to score 190 odd
and they didn’t (sorry couldn’t) even attempt to try and have a go at it.
A de-facto draw was once again
the result and we all started to look forward to the barbecue.
After partaking of burgers and
steaks (a rumour suggested that suggested Mark
Farley, had eaten six), the majority of us paid a quick visit to Pondwell and then made our way to the pub in Seaview. Where, Brinky instigated beer drinking games such
as spoons.
Unfortunately, only Steff was (shall we say, naïve enough) to fall for this
one.
Although, momentarily, we all
thought that Brinky had been bested in his self-instigated position of
entertainments officer by the manager of the bar, who it seemed, was keen to
get in, on the action.
But as it turned out, he was
nothing more than a kind-hearted buffoon, whose games lacked the skill, wit,
novelty and down right deceitfulness of Brinky’s.
Late night concoctions were
partaken in the CCL (Captains Concoction Lounge) and Ollie tongue tied Colin
and brought the house down. When claiming that ‘Colin must have felt like, Hew
Heffner’ when surrounded by as many as thirty teenage girls recently during
birthday celebrations at his home.
Mad Jim Healey earned himself
yet another nickname in Jittery Jim, due to his on field actions. This was
later shortened to just ‘Jitters’, and very apt it seemed to all.
There was talk of Emile’s
famous casino being opened, but it never materialised,
due to in-part, to the fact that, most tourists now know that it’s much cheaper
and quicker just to give Emile your money.
Thursday 21st
May
The day started bad,
apparently some amongst us (actually most) had said that they would be very
interested in attending a ‘paintballing’ morning.
However, after three days of
touring and consequently a three late nights (for most) spent in the CCL. Very
few tourists had the desire to go and dodge bullets and it seemed like James in
particular, was a little disappointed with the lack of interest.
A large contingent of tourists
made their way to the infamous ‘Copper kettle’ café in Seaview,
in search of a cooked breakfast (one or two eyebrows were raised when it was realised, that our chairman was on first names terms with
the staff)!
We arrived in
The opposition though had the
choice of some good non-playing WG tourists and they couldn’t have picked
better than James and Ted Ted.
On top of these goliaths, they
also had an ultimate trump card in the form of a
incredibly athletic fifteen year girl, whose sporting credentials were
prominently displayed throughout the day.
I’ve no idea who won the toss,
but already by now Ollie, who apparently had been promoted to match manager for
the day, and had completed his by now, traditional pre-match (in camera)
inspection of the wicket, in the style of Geoff Boycott.
WG fielded and the match was
played in the style of a last match of the tour, complete with ’Billy Smarts
Circus’ fielding.
The weather was sunny but with
one hell of a gusting wind blowing.
It was the kind of wind that
would have most of the island salivating at the thought of raising a mainsail
or cutting a jib etc…
Anyway, Colin was in charge
for the day and with the wind as it was and the fact that Colin had only been
able to manage three hours sleep. Due to Jitters and the chairman’s insistence
on finishing the bottle of Baileys Steve had produced during the previous
evening.
Colin struggled to be heard
over the wind and being forced to witness such comically bad fielding, he
seemed to give up and let the team get on with their capitulation.
To cut a long and many error
strewn innings short… Colin toiled, Eggy boiled and the rest of us spoiled.
They scored 200 with James
batting well and the highlight of the game being the chairman’s chipped leg
side shot over Colin’s head. Who up until that point had been imploring all to
drop back and give themselves some space to catch Tim.
Steve, then
bowled him, middle stump, with some beautiful filth.
We opened the batting with Lee
and Woody, both of whom were dismissed cheaply and it was left to Emile, Steve
and Sam to try and build an innings.
But the excellent James, who
it seemed, had only to keep wicket to have had the most perfect of perfect
days, had other ideas and either caught or bowled WG throughout the innings.
Sam the shuffle, did start to
build an innings but then was run out when Wobbler
refused to leave his crease (the Pavilion consensus was that there was a run
available).
Eventually WG edged towards
the total but we were running out of batsmen and overs.
With Eggy batting
fantastically, it was left to a now severely injured overseas player complete
with Simon as his runner to see us home.
Unfortunately, it seemed like
the overseas player was already thinking about his next match away to
WG had fallen short and all
looked forward to the evenings entertainment at the Seaview pub.
Brinky’s tour
quiz was a three way tie between Colin, Mark & the overseas.
The evenings
meals of
Speeches were made, spoons
were played at Sam’s expense (sorry Sam), Steff (who
has to be the most affable and gullible of tourists) had a pint of water poured
down the inside of his pants by Woody and a good time was had by all.
Evening concoctions were
partaken in the CCL and a good but subsequently failed attempt was made at
consuming the mountain of obscure liquids that had arisen during the course of
the tour.
Friday 22nd
May
After a quick pit stop in Ryde, where upon the Club Captain was forced to return to Pondwell to retrieve Mark Farley’s phone charger. The
tourists were eventually back on board the IOW ferry bound for the mainland.
Entrapped once again in the mini-bus, much Glynde baiting ensued and try as they might (and they are getting better), the Umpa lumpas were unable to resist
the bait.
Consequently the baiting
became more vociferous and humorous… but as they say ‘that’s why we’re
champions’!
Overview
Another fantastic tour, albeit
with the most inferior opposition we have faced so far.
However the varied mix of
tourists and once again excellent organisation
definitely helped make it the best tour yet in my opinion.
The tour virgins all played a
big part in adding new verve to the event and lets
hope that they and more new virgins are there next year.
Upon returning to BCN the
overseas use of soft hands proved more than sufficient in subduing his Brasilian opposition into submission.