Aloof Theory Part 7: donkey dropper and cannon fodder
Last week, I suffered the indignity of walking out to bat without any pads on: a feat so monumentally stupid, even Jrod saw fit to comment. This week, we turned up to the ground to find teenagers in the outfield pegging cricket balls at stumps. Get off our field, you whippersnappers! Turns out Pappy got his wires crossed and we were at the wrong ground. Another cracking start to the day!
We rush into our cars and speed off to the new location which turns out to be the most God forsaken cricket field I've ever played on. As Pappy described it on the mobile to some teammates struggling to find the area: "Drive for ages along Peel Rd, then turn left at Antarctica".
As we drive there, Will complains to Pappy about why the captain never gives him a bowl, particularly after he won the bowling trophy a season or two ago. I remember making a similar complaint to Pappy a few weeks ago (except the bit about the bowling trophy, no such luck). I realised just about every guy in the team is busting to have a bowl but there's only two ends of the pitch to bowl from. My dream of being a frontline spinner is turning out to be a tad more difficult than first realised.
When we finally arrived at the address, all we saw was a football field and a dirt road trailing off into bushland. We followed the dirt road which wound through what looked like a swamp, turning a corner to find a cricket field nestled in amongst the reeds. The location was so obscure, I was inspired this week to add a Google Maps feature to CriciWiki to help clubs more easily locate their cricket grounds. Here's where we played:
Our season is in dire straits - out of 4 games, we'd only won once. This game was crucial. Our captain, Thommo (named after his slinging bowling action), won the toss and batted. I was written down as #5 so I made myself comfortable, basked in the winter sun and found myself dozing off. Finally to rouse myself, I got Pappy and Dexter to bowl some balls at me. Just as they were finishing up, the 3rd wicket fell. I strode out to the wicket, patting myself down to ensure I was wearing all the requisite pieces of equipment.
Will of the 4 coffees was at the other end. Fortunately he hadn't had a chance to O.D. on caffeine this morning. I found myself facing a young quick bowler, possibly still in his teens. Will advised me he wasn't getting much movement. His first ball speared towards off stump, I stepped out to it but it swung away. I let it go through, nice delivery, good leave. Once again, thanks for the heads up, Will. The next ball was similar, towards off stump, but this one didn't move away. In fact, it cut back in off the pitch, a cracker of a follow-up delivery. Being just short of a length, I let it pass over the stumps. Even nicer leave. Great bowling but I confess I was quite proud of how I handled it. Would've been nice to know he was moving it both ways, though, Will!
Next ball was on the pads so I leg glanced for two. Then he bowled a full toss outside off and I drove as hard as I could. The ball shot hard and low straight at point, reaching the fielder at about shin height. He bent down but didn't get a finger on it and it shot off to the boundary. Thank goodness for crappy B-grade club fielding. Good first over.
At the other end, the bowler was channelling the spirits of Lasith Malinga and Jeff Thomson. He had one of the longest run-ups I'd seen in a club game, pounding in like he was about to hurl a javelin in an Olympic final. He had a huge slinging action. But the delivery, well, it was lively but a bit of an anti-climax after all the initial build-up. Nevertheless, the slinging action was like a red flag to Will who batted patiently against the other bowlers, steadily approaching his half-century. Against this guy, he tried to smash every ball out of the park. Finally, Slinger got one on the stumps, Will tried to deposit it over cow's corner and his off stump was neatly plucked out of the ground.
In came Pappy. Slinger bowled a chest high full toss. Pappy deftly steered it over third man for six (lamentably, the scorers only marked it as 4). I saw off the teenager at the other end and their opening bowler replaced him. This guy bowled useful outswing although the ball was 50 overs old at this point and not doing much. But it did enough to get past Pappy's bat and he was trapped LBW in front.
Next, out came Mick. He only had one shot in his repertoire and sure enough, first delivery, backs away, clears his front leg and smashes the ball over mid-on's head for two. Typical sighter for Mick. Next delivery, exactly the same shot, the ball goes to exactly the same spot. Unfortunately for Mick, mid-on had moved back twenty metres and comfortably takes the catch. I've only been out there for 7 overs and 3 wickets have already fallen. After watching 9 wickets fall from the non-striker's end last week, I'm beginning to think maybe I'm a bad luck charm. I decided I wasn't going to block my way to another red inker this week. This time, I'm going out swinging.
The slinger is replaced by an off-spinner. Perfect, love facing spin. At the start of the over, I cast a greedy eye over the vast expanses from deep mid-on to deep mid-wicket. Plenty of runs out there. First ball was flighty and full. I stepped out to it, tried to smash across the line to the on-side, played over it and was bowled. Beaten by the very thing that snaffled me so many wickets - greed, under-estimating the bowler, pre-meditation, brain explosion, take your pick!
I trudged back, deeply dissatisfied with only 7 runs. My season average suffered a Husseyesque plunge from 46 to 37 (noting that I've not yet notched a score higher than 34). Predictably, our innings didn't take long to wrap up, all out for 154. Afterwards, Mick tells me some of the team were discussing batting me at #3. The comment was quite flattering. He then elaborated with "that way, we can shield our good batsmen from the new ball". Okay, thanks for clarifying, Mick! So I'm to be the sacrificial lamb that takes the polish off the ball. At least I know my role in the team now. Donkey dropper and cannon fodder.
I think I'm ready to concede that last season's experiment to reinvent myself as a tailend batsman and frontline spinner is all but a dismal failure. So maybe I should just go with this #3 thing. I must admit after last week's 3 hour stint, I feel a lot more comfortable at the crease. It was only when I played a stupid shot that I got myself dismissed this week.
We take the field with only 8 overs to bowl. Our captain Thommo bowls himself from one end. There really should be a law against slinging bowling - he bowls 7 wides in 4 overs, rarely causing the batsman to play at the ball. Defending only 154, those sundries are gold for the opposition. One bright point, Pappy bowling his miserly chinamen from the other end takes a wicket on the last ball of the day. 1 for 24. Can we defend our total next week? Can we finally win a game? And most importantly, will I get a bowl? These questions and more...
In progress scorecard courtesy of CriciWiki
| Posted by JC on Thu 25 Jun |  18 comments |
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