Batting at 4, I didn’t make much of an impression with half
a dozen or so runs, but then watched for most of the day as Allen Ledger and
John Francis hit bustling half centuries, helping us to a total of 215 all out
from 68 overs.
There was at least time for me to do something constructive
in the day as we attempted to nick a couple out before the close of play. New
ball, three slips and a gully, lengthening shadows under the descending
Queensland sun, opening batsmen defending for their lives - this almost resembled Test
match cricket. Or it may have done, had we had a tall, fearsome quick hurling
the ball down at ferocious speeds and chuntering expletives to the batsman in
his augmented follow through. Instead we had to make do with my gentle medium
wobblers.
Still, something clicked and we reduced the visitors to 24
for 3 before the umpire offered the light to the batsmen who wilfully accepted.
The remainder of the battle would have to wait for the following week.
A battle it was as the remaining Caloundra batsmen ground
out in sweltering heat (I was later told by a local that it would get much
hotter), eking out singles as over by over wore by with little reward on a
wicket becoming more placid by the minute.
Beginning a spell from the top end I charged* in for what
seemed like an eternity, ball after ball nullified with unnerving ease by the
robotic batsman. After 17 gruelling overs from one end I traipsed to the
comfort of the shade, but the opposition were still in the hunt with 60 needed
and two wickets left. Queue the elderly statesman, so old school he refused to
wear batting gloves, to chip, nudge and cajole Caloundra to within touching
distance of victory.
Just as it seemed we would lose out in the great battle of
attrition, Ledger snaffled a wicket and 20 runs short, I mustered waning
reserves of energy to ‘attack’ from the other end. As the game forced its way
to a climactic finale, the last man rushed through for a single without telling
his partner, and the old stager was run out with the visitors five short.
After 83 overs in the field and having bowled 25 overs, the
only possible emotion I felt was one of relief, although I soon found I could
replenish my reserves with cold beer sufficiently enough to celebrate with that
winning feeling.
* feel free to replace with ‘cantered’, ‘lolloped’ or
‘sauntered’
- - -
Life's a Beach
With the Sunshine Coast Scorchers grade side struggling for
form, there was a welcome change up for one training session as the players
swapped the nets for the beach. Living 100 yards from the front, beach cricket
was as good an excuse as any for me to tag along to the session.
Once three separate drills of diving catches had been
exhausted, covered from head to toe in sand, a cool down in the clear blue sea
was followed by a gathering round the BBQ, dozens of sausages cooked up as
everybody left well fed and in high spirits. That’s what I call an Aussie
training session…
Videos of training and the aftermath:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?v=10150953659220370&set=vb.148501128543563&type=2&theater
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