Crowds flock to cricket for diverse reasons: for the weather, the company, the spectacle, for the big-name players, the scintillating strokeplay, the thrilling fast bowling, for a socially acceptable reason to start drinking at 11am, and, in the case of the Hyde Heath President’s Weekend, for a slap-up lunch and the coruscating wit of the President’s speech. And also hopefully some good cricket. As a player, it’s quite a feeling to walk out to bat before a packed house. But I’m pleased to report that, by the time I returned to the pavilion at the end of the game, my unbeaten 50 having secured the draw for the Heath against the President’s XI, hardly a soul remained. My dour defence had driven them all away. “Are you not entertained?” I imagined myself yelling, before hurling my bat into an empty marquee, just like Russell Crowe. “Is this not why you are here?” Err, no, Tom. No, it isn’t.

The morning after an excellent beer festival (kudos to Ben and Angus for all their hard work), Nick won the toss and invited the President’s XI to bat first on a wicket that looked like a road but frequently kept disconcertingly low. The outfield was very fast though and we looked set for a high-scoring day. Ben opened with a tidy spell, but Stanley’s early wicked only ushered Shrimpie to the crease to join Henry Capper. Much rested on the partnership. Break it early and the Heath would have a chance of victory. Fail to do so and we could be staring down the barrel of a mighty total. Needless to say, we failed to do so.

We more or less kept a lid on the scoring (until an especially rank over of full tosses by me) but we were never able to exert any sustained pressure on either batsman. Everyone bowled ok, and the fielding was mostly fine until the later overs, but both Capper and Shrimpie cruised to half-centuries in their contrasting styles: Shrimpie timing the pants off it through the cover; Capper strong straight down the ground. As they both looked to accelerate towards the end of the innings, Shrimpie was bowled by Spencer and Capper began to lose his shape on his shots a little, dragging towards mid-wicket. Spencer bowled extremely well, using his height to exploit the uneven bounce to finish with four wickets (all bowled as far as I remember). But we couldn’t capitalise and Capper went on to yet another excellent hundred. At the other end, a new chap, whose name I’m afraid I’ve forgotten, unfurled some crunching drives (sign him up, Nick!) and the President’s XI closed on around 240.

The tea break was the occasion for a keenly contested raffle (the highlight of the day for many) as well as excellent speeches from both Chairman Mat Simms and President Johnny Capper. In their different ways, both paid tribute to absent friends, of whom there seem to be far too many. At the forefront of many of our minds of course was the shocking loss of Richard and Will Cousins at the start of the year, while Richard Austin is never far from anyone’s thoughts.

At the time of the tragedy many of the newspaper reports spoke of Richard as a great captain of industry, which of course he was. But mostly I remember a cantankerous first slip being relentlessly rude (not unjustifiably) about my bowling. Likewise, the Twitter eulogies spoke of Will as a hard-working colleague and tireless campaigner against Brexit. But it was Matt comparing Will to a blacksmith cricketer of yore that rang truer in my ears. Far from a thrusting young man of business, I remember an easy-going guy who loved an ale, a quiet natter, and a leg-side hoick. But then people are complex, I guess, and show different sides of themselves in different contexts. Village cricket is only one such context, but, for many, a mighty important one.

Anyway, to the batting. Henry King looked in excellent form before getting out somehow (I’m afraid I was getting stuck into the sauvignon at this stage), which meant I went out at number 3 to join Dom Haddock. After unfurling an exquisite cover drive early on, Dom was largely subdued by the President’s XI’s tall opening bowler, who insisted on a league line and length that made scoring tough but never really threatened the stumps. Dom proceeded to leave ball after ball in a battle of patience, that was absorbing to watch in its own dull way.

Dom’s approach led to much chuntering from the oppo, but if a bowler is serious about actually taking wickets rather than simply admiring his own economy rate then he needs to either aim at the stumps (and risk the odd boundary) or bowl with a genuinely attacking field (how about no fielders between gully and mid-off?) in order to lure the batsman into more attacking strokeplay. Otherwise, it’s all mouth and no trousers.

Instead, by the time the opener had finished his spell and Dom had hacked a spinner to mid-off, so much time had been eaten up that the draw was the only available option for Hyde Heath. So Spencer and I set about the task with gusto. Blocking the living daylights out of the bowling for an hour or so is basically my ideal batting scenario, but Spencer can actually play great shots. It says much about his maturity as a cricketer that he was able to block out the taunts (from opposition fielders and home “fans” alike) and simply play the game that needed to be played. He has become an excellent cricketer.

And so, with the final over bowled by Capper himself, the teams shook hands and that was that: a splendid day, if not exactly a riveting game of cricket.

Sunday vs The Plough .....

If the crowds had sought a nail-biter they could have done worse than pitch up at Hyde Heath again on the Sunday for the annual spectacle of the match against a Plough XI. In the aftermath of England’s 6-1 victory over Panama in some sport apparently referred to as “football” (during which I think most people had matched every goal with at least one pint), this ended up being a fairly, ahem, messy game of cricket. Fortunately, Ben’s avant-garde approach to scoring kept the game competitive after Nick, Henry and Spencer had all racked up runs for Hyde Heath. A chap called Darren batted very well for the Plough, but the real highlights were a screamer of a diving catch at point by Chairman Matt Simms, a wicket and some excellent batting by Groundsman Mike, who looked a little like Denis Compton in his pomp (the gentlemanly attire rather than the timeless cover drives), a hugely surprising one-handed catch in the gulley (good work, me!) and several other amusing goings-on that I can’t remember. All in all, an excellent weekend: exactly, more or less, what the crowds came to see.

We hosted Ballinger this Sunday, a fixture which has often become slightly gnarly, but this year both sides were on best behaviour and a friendly match in all senses of the word ended in victory for the Heath. We bowled first and Ali Richards, back for the weekend, took the new ball for his first spell in two years. You wouldn’t have known it, the old zip, nip and carry were still there and his first wicket felt like the first of many to come. It wasn’t to be though as he pulled up with hamstring pain soon after and as the second oldest man in the side, was appropriately retired to the slips.  

Ballinger batted as they looked; hugely talented, supremely confident, but very young. Sure, they smashed a good many balls to the boundary, but the inexperience youth often means one doesn’t know who to rein things in and knock it around for a few overs. The bowlers stuck to their task and we dismissed Ballinger for a well below par 157. Spencer was the pick of the bowlers, taking a fine five wicket haul, and Dominic continued to keep wicket assuredly, taking three dismissals including a leg side stumping which he’ll happily talk you through three of four times.  

The most notable batting performance was Henry King. After a slowing start to the season, he’s recently found real form and his 65 today was another excellent example of a well-made innings. Henry Capper had earlier reached a typically untroubled 40, before having to retire to nurse a ill son, we wish George a speedy recovery. Spencer arrived at the innings to finish things off coolly, scoring 18* to knock off the runs with plenty of overs and wickets to spare, ending an excellent day for him and Hyde Heath.

We arrived at Cublington choc-full of batting, ready to chase down anything that we were set. And lo, it came to pass. Swedey and Sonley made a fine new ball pair.

Swedey was desperately unlucky that the number of edges he found didn’t go to hand (or certainly weren’t taken), he could have had a hat full, but his only dismissal was their opener, who was struck plumb in front of middle, duly given out by his teenage son, before hurrying back out of the pavilion before another ball had been bowled, publically admonishing said teenager and substituting him – it was all very odd.

Ben was tying up the other end beautifully, taking two wickets and going for just 16 off his seven overs, a really impressive stint. Nick bowled with accuracy and guile in probably his best spell for the club, going at just three runs per over and could have taken more than his single wicket if the keeper took his stumpings (mea culpa).

All this economy was all well and good, but who was going to take all the wickets? Kenny Holt! A fine display by Kenny saw him take four wickets, including two excellent over-the-shoulder catches by Adam Swede, a sharp caught-and-bowled, and a cunning delivery which the batsman managed to play and miss three times before it rearranged his furniture.

Restricting the good Cublington side to 183 was an impressive first half, now it was up to our batters to get us home; which they did inside 30 overs. The bulk of the runs came from Henry Capper’s bat, until it broke, he replaced I, then carried on his merry way to another fine century. As with so many of Henry’s recent knocks, this hundred was chanceless, well-paced (84 balls) and the rock around which the innings was built.

Henry King added a dashing and confident 32, Swedey a measured 16 in an important partnership and Kenny was there at the end, enjoying some time in the middle and some red ink.

The match was concluded in level-headed style, as with one required, fielders all around called for sixes and glory. Henry bunted the ball to midwicket and strolled to glory instead, a judicious end to a wonderful and match winning innings. To the beer garden then, for warm evening sun and cold refreshments.