Aloof Theory Part 6: Aloofness run amock
Having survived to stumps last week, I spent the first part of this week imagining going out to bat again and gradually getting more anxious about what might happen. I pictured getting dismissed in the first over of the day after sweating it out for a week. Fortunately, the Wednesday night net session cleared my head. I came out of it resolved to focus solely on picking the line and length as quickly as possible and get my feet into the right position. That and sticking around until we'd chased down the 194 runs required for victory.
So come Saturday, I had achieved a zen state of Aloof Theory when I arrived at the ground. The entire opposition team were there, I was the first to arrive from ours. Three minutes from the start of play, only two other team members had arrived. Finally Willy, my batting partner arrives, pretty much dead on the start of play. He rushes to get padded up and we walk out. As I approach the pitch, one of the fielders calls out to me, "Mate, aren't you wearing pads?" I look down aghast. I'd forgotten to put pads on! Out of all the most ridiculous things I've ever done on a cricket field, this was first, daylight second. Sure, I have to concentrate on the ball but this is aloofness run amock! I rush to the boundary, throw on the pads, run back and arrive at the crease, breathless and flustered as I prepare to face the first ball. Perfect start to the day!
I was disappointed to learn their legspinner was not playing today, replaced by their usual opening bowler. Less spin, more quicks, not a good equation. Their opener was bowling the first over to me. He bowls fast, with outswing, tight line and length. Despite the less than ideal preparation, I manage to defend my way through the first over. Willy defends the next over. We bat out several maidens. The bowlers are giving us nothing but a lot of sledging. Constant chirping between deliveries, particularly from the smart mouthed cover fieldsman (the guy I nearly brained last week). Finally, Willy snaps and swings across the line, trying to smash the ball into the trees past deep-mid wicket. He misses and off stump flies out of the ground. Later, he confesses he'd drank 4 cups of coffee that morning, was all keyed up and the chirping got to him. Sledging and caffeine, a lethal cocktail on the cricket field. 2 for 39.
Our best batsman, Craig, strides in. He immediately starts middling the ball and hits several powerful boundaries over the bowler's head. Meanwhile, I'm happily nudging the ball around for singles so I can sit back and enjoy the fireworks. A new bowler comes on, a young, fit looking bloke. He bowls quick but doesn't move the ball around much. He spears one in at Craig's pads. He tries to turn the ball to the legside but misses. The ball spoons off his pads and dribbles onto the stumps. 3 for 77.
His brother Dan replaces him. Not quite as talented a batsman as Craig but still hits the ball pretty hard. Two balls later, he plays a forward defensive shot, inside edging it onto his stumps. 4 for 77. Okay, now I'm starting to worry. Pappy waddles out. He's old, overweight but a tough character - if anyone can grit his way through this situation, it's Pappy. But I'm surprised to see him struggling against the bowling. He's stuck on the crease, sparring at the ball, playing and missing a fair bit. Finally, he wafts at one outside off and plays onto his stumps. 5 for 84.
The ball isn't moving around much - it's about 50 overs old by now. But they're bowling with discipline, maintaining line and length and not giving us much to hit. I've been out there for nearly two hours but still don't feel like I'm timing the ball. The smart mouth comes in right under my nose, challenging me to cover drive. He's so close, it's a fairly risk-free shot and the next full ball, I drive hard straight at him. It narrowly misses him, flying past his right side, but he's unperturbed. "That's batter 1, fielder nil. Gonna try again?" I drive the next full one, this one flies past his left side. "Third time lucky maybe", I reply. He withdraws back to cover. The exchange keeps him quiet for at least a few deliveries.
Meanwhile, wickets continue to fall at the other end. One of our tailenders come out and I nearly have a heart attack when on his first ball, he backs away and tries to smash the ball over cover. It turns out that's the only shot in his repertoire as he continues to smash everything and manages to connect most of the time. He smashes a huge shot over deep mid-on that narrowly misses six. Our partnership reached 22 and suddenly the runs required fall less than 100. Next ball is a knee high full toss, he mishits it to mid-on who pouches the ball comfortably. 7 for 108.
Next comes our captain. Fairly dodgy technique but can hit the ball hard. "Let's save this game," he mutters as he reaches the pitch. Inspiring captain's words, I almost believe we can do it. A couple of overs later, he edges it to the slips, out for a duck. 8 for 111. The final two tailenders both fall for ducks and our innings ends on 115, a gaping 79 runs short. I batted for 3 hours, the longest I'd spent at the crease but only managed to amass 34 runs. It was satisfying being out there for so long but I never felt in, never really timed the ball well. When wickets started falling, I aimed to preserve my wicket, tried to build some partnerships. Maybe I should've batted more aggressively, challenged the bowlers, upped the run rate. Hard to say. One thing I know, I'm going to have to develop more scoring shots than the leg glance and nick through slips.
Before I know it, we're back in the field. We only have 1 hour left to play so the goal is to take as many wickets as possible, score some bonus points. I sidle up to the captain and suggest if we're after quick wickets, maybe some flighty leg spin would do the trick. He says he was actually thinking the same thing. Hmm, maybe you do need to sell yourself a little to get a bowl in this game. Only problem, every muscle in my body is aching, I wonder if I can muster the strength to send the ball all the way to the other end of the pitch. Good thing I'm a donkey dropper, not a fast bowler.
Trev is taking wickets at one end but Dan is getting hammered at the other end. After a 4, 6, 4 in the first 3 balls of his third over, the captain calls out, "Cookie, you're on at Dan's end next over". Gotta feel for Dan but well, someone has to make way for the leggie. To add insult to injury, the last ball of the over is smashed in my direction, I misfield and it rolls over the boundary. Dan does not look happy.
In the next over, Trev dismisses their top opener who had just smashed Dan out of the attack. So two young guys at the crease as I come on to bowl. I fancy my chances. My second ball is a dead set pie, short, wide down the leg side and he rightly smashes it for four. Next few deliveries are well flighted outside off, including a play and miss. For the fifth delivery, I consider the quicker arm ball but as I run in, I change my mind and bowl wide of the crease, attempting to confound him with the different angle. It pitches outside off and he reverse sweeps it over gully's head for two. Dang, should've gone with the arm ball. I try the arm ball next but he defends. That horse had already bolted.
Next over, I try giving the ball more flight, coaxing a wicket. First ball, he smashes it towards long off. Ouch. No, wait, there's a man out there. It's the captain. He's sprinting towards the ball. Can he get there? He gets there! The ball flies through his fingers, into his shoulder and spills onto the ground. Ouch again. They manage to get to two more of my donkey droppers on the full, milking a few twos. Last few balls, they defend and I end my second over with figures of 0 for 12.
The captain brings on spin from the other end, a blood lab technician with the inspired nickname of Dexter. He takes a wicket with his third delivery as the batsman bunts the ball feebly to short mid-wicket. Wickets are falling freely. The opposition captain runs out and offers to end the game early. There's still 10 overs to go but our captain accepts. As we walk off, I mention that the opposition were perhaps concerned about the bonus points we were accruing with the wickets. Captain replies that he was mainly thinking about the beer back at the club house.
So a day of mixed feelings. To carry the bat is a satisfying achievement. To score only 34 runs in 3 hours, not so impressive. And the bottom line, we failed to chase 194 runs and lost the first innings points. We're going to need some good results in the last 4 games to salvage the season.
Final CriciWiki scorecard here...
| Posted by JC on Tue 16 Jun |  23 comments |
Posted by Ajesh Nag on 2009-06-16 23:06:44
Anyhow JC, good going and as articulate as ever! However, I bet they've renamed you 'Boycott' in the shed - or Lawry? Sounds like this match needed a Boycs or Phanto tho'!
I blame the 20-20 meself.
Posted by virtualgaz on 2009-06-17 16:14:45
Posted by JC on 2009-06-18 09:25:17
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