Gnomads Drown in Super Over

Sunday, and our fine body of men really were fine bodies of men. With supposed captain One Brick in particular displaying a sorry state of being and rain radars looking increasingly threatening the game against Holmbury St Mary didn’t look the best bet to salvage a win from the tour. Nevertheless, into the bus we clambered and, with a sense of optimism that bordered on the delusional, headed for the ground. Special mention here goes to MJK for negotiating the tricky final ‘Colin McCrae’ approach despite dodgy navigation and an even dodgier… er… road?

The toss was tossed. The die was cast. The Gnomads would bat first.

Cousin Bert and Gnasty took to the field in heavy drizzle. Would they be deterred? Not a bit of it as CB spanked the first ball for an effortless boundary. By the 3rd ball the heavy drizzle had become a legitimate deluge and at the end of the over, in conditions resembling a heavy monsoon, the Holmbury boys ran from the field like yellow dogs, leaving Gnasty and CB with their arms out in the middle. Peak District veterans were heard to remark that it looked a bit damp, Theo strained to catch a glimpse of the trout leaping on the far side of the outfield and Holmbury’s South African pro phoned home to say goodbye to his mother.

Sadly, after 15 minutes or so spent in the hospitable embrace of Holmbury’s bar, it became clear that the situation would not improve.

A compromise solution – after a careful pitch inspection and clearing the idea with HM Coastguard – was proposed that the Gnomads score of 6-0 be revised upwards on Duckworth Lewis which Holmbury St Mary would then be given one over to chase. Suggestions by One Brick that the revised score should be 58 were greeted with derision. 007 insisted he was bowling either way. The Gnomads took the field and greeted HSM, needing 12 to win, with 2 slips, a short-leg and Cousin Bert’s 13-year-old daughter, Harriet, making her Gnomadic debut at backward square. The writing appeared to be on the sodden wall when a 4 and a 2 were struck from the first 2 deliveries. BUT WAIT! 007, deceiving the batsman with a ball that squelched wickedly in the pitch, saw a ball spooned into the covers and safely pouched by Vera.

A 4 followed through square leg, which Regal might have fielded if he hadn’t been sheltering in the pavilion. 3 off 2 required.

A single was scampered. 2 off the last ball, and a dot needed by the Gnomads to bring it home without needing the boundary count-back.

007 ran in like Jofra Archer after a very, very rough couple of years.

The batsman stepped across his stumps like Steve Smith, no doubt eyeing up a leg-side swipe that would send the ball screaming into Regal’s beer.

007, seeing this, reacted and sent the ball wide of the batsman’s new guard at silly point.

THE BALL BEAT THE BAT.

Rarebit, keeping wicket and having had nothing to do for the previous 5 deliveries except get wet, failed to watch any of the above and didn’t move a muscle as the ball sailed straight past him.

One Brick, at 1st slip, swore. Then realised that the ball might not go for four in the pond that had formerly been the outfield and gave chase.

The ball, like a stubborn bastard, DID go for four byes and Holmbury St Mary were victorious. The Gnomads second silver medal of the tour was secured.

So there we have it, fellow wearers of the pink and green. Another tour gone, and only KFCs to be eaten as Flan angrily chastised Martin Atkinson for not awarding Man Utd a penalty on the homeward bus. Much fun was had by all and sundry and the award gnominations look, from this distance, to have a strong field. Special mentions go to MJK for doing an inordinately large amount of driving and to Cousin Bert and Gnasty for going out of their way to be extremely gracious and generous hosts, delivering a fine tour.