So the first Saturday of my trip arrives and I’m gunning for a game. Yet, to douse my excitement, there’s a slight hiccup as I discover my new club, Nambour CC, are currently in the middle of a match.
Due to the rather alien nature of two-day cricket, played over two weekends, I have arrived into the country in the wrong week. Shocker. As I prepare to watch our 1st XI play in the Sunshine Coast league competition, I get a Friday evening text to say that a young tyro has pulled out of the 4th XI and I have my eagerly awaited debut.
Playing on the second pitch at our impressive Nambour Showgrounds home against Burpengary 3rd XI, only when told I was next in did I learn of our previous week’s endeavours. Fielding first, our team full of old characters had bowled the opposition out for a paltry 33 and were 4 for 1 before rain brought an early end to the day.
So, after ten minutes when our first wicket of the day had fallen, I bounded to the wicket and four overs later we had passed our opposition’s first innings score. On a flat, drying wicket with a wily old leg-spinner wheeling away from one end as erratic young quicks rotated from the other, me and my obdurate, greying batting partner attempted to add quick runs to forge a declaration and seek an outright victory.
Sixteen fours and three sixes later I had carved a century and retired, exhausted but elated, our innings eventually culminating on 215 for 5 when declaring at tea.
Viciously chipping away at a dejected opposition batting line up was veteran left armer Neville (out of retirement since arriving from Darwin at somewhat cooler southerly climates), furiously bustling through the crease, knee strapped to the hilt and always promising this would be his last over. He was partnered by quiet, moustachioed seamer Johnny and latterly big Barney. What an attack.
Under a late afternoon sun submerging behind the tall boundary trees, the visitors succumbed as we completed victory by an innings and 40 runs – less than twenty minutes before stumps – and duly celebrated with a round of XXXX Gold. Magic.
Due to the rather alien nature of two-day cricket, played over two weekends, I have arrived into the country in the wrong week. Shocker. As I prepare to watch our 1st XI play in the Sunshine Coast league competition, I get a Friday evening text to say that a young tyro has pulled out of the 4th XI and I have my eagerly awaited debut.
Playing on the second pitch at our impressive Nambour Showgrounds home against Burpengary 3rd XI, only when told I was next in did I learn of our previous week’s endeavours. Fielding first, our team full of old characters had bowled the opposition out for a paltry 33 and were 4 for 1 before rain brought an early end to the day.
So, after ten minutes when our first wicket of the day had fallen, I bounded to the wicket and four overs later we had passed our opposition’s first innings score. On a flat, drying wicket with a wily old leg-spinner wheeling away from one end as erratic young quicks rotated from the other, me and my obdurate, greying batting partner attempted to add quick runs to forge a declaration and seek an outright victory.
Sixteen fours and three sixes later I had carved a century and retired, exhausted but elated, our innings eventually culminating on 215 for 5 when declaring at tea.
Viciously chipping away at a dejected opposition batting line up was veteran left armer Neville (out of retirement since arriving from Darwin at somewhat cooler southerly climates), furiously bustling through the crease, knee strapped to the hilt and always promising this would be his last over. He was partnered by quiet, moustachioed seamer Johnny and latterly big Barney. What an attack.
Under a late afternoon sun submerging behind the tall boundary trees, the visitors succumbed as we completed victory by an innings and 40 runs – less than twenty minutes before stumps – and duly celebrated with a round of XXXX Gold. Magic.
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