With the weather gods threatening to interfere yet again it was a relief to find it was raining everywhere but on the hallowed turf of The Willows. After a quick discussion with ‘Scrumpy’, my opposite number, it was decided that we would bat first, with 35 overs per innings and retirement at 35 runs.

We started with determined circumspection. Both the Craz opening bowlers were young and sprightly. A case of Manager Bob ‘Loose with the Truth’ Masefield reneging on a promise of his team being made up solely of twilighters. Belligerent defence gave way to a flourish of runs from Davidson and Scott, supporting the theory it was a day for old age and guile. After Scott retired on 40 there was a late flurry of runs off the blade of Harris, Ingles and Drake. The Willows pushed through to 187 off their 35. A fair total and within sight of my expectation.

McFedries (who had left his girdle at home) and yours truly opened the bowling. We restricted the batsmen early until a sudden burst of runs forced a change. Enter the miserly S. Woolliscroft who bowled with great accuracy and he was well supported by Rusty Drake and Jingles. Wickets were hard to come by and with a light drizzle developing the ball began to resemble a bar of soap in a prison shower.

As the ball began slipping through our fingers so did the game as the Craz began to capitalise on the conditions. Catches were shelled, stump work fell off and ground fielding became more arduous in the greasy conditions let alone bowlers trying to maintain some level of control. In the end the visitors chased down the total with six wickets in hand and a couple of overs to spare.

Many thanks to my team for sticking it out in tough conditions and keeping a positive vibe all day. Post match libations were enjoyed at Winsome’s house with Ben Dormer being the meat master.