On Tour...
What good did the Tour do for any of us?
Grantham 2005
For certain, nothing for the averages!
Having sat watching the rain come down for most of the Energy Exiles' 2005 Tour to Grantham, you would have thought there was not a lot to report on. Well that is not the case. Whilst the only match to be played has been reported on and the man-of-the-match award duly awarded to Quentin, we thought it only right to set out what really went on behind the scenes.
Expectation
Leaving London, the skies were clear, our legs were fresh, and bellies free from alcohol. This was not to last. The Energy Exiles touring party were ready for anything the teams of Grantham had to throw at them. However, as the journey progressed along the A1, the skies darkened, and the closer the tour bus (Sam's Van) became to Grantham, the harder the rain came down!
Disappointment
On arriving at our 5-star (huh herm) accommodation at Grantham College, much delight was had at the sight of on-suit showers. An improvement on previous years apparently. However, the mix of Hungarian graffiti, gloomy lighting and the introduction by the caretaker that the surrounding area was rife with a mix of "low-life", it soon dawned on most of us that if we had to stay in the rooms for longer than an hour, suicide could be the only way out. Ah, student days - the happiest of our lives.
Pushing that to one side, and once we had mastered the combination - 4-2-1-3 - or as one tour member remembered it "42 13 year olds - well that's what we'll be seeing later on" - we went on our merry way to Caythorpe, our first fixture.
Things were looking up - the sun was out (well it made a 10 minute appearance), Jonny T had assured us he knew the way to the ground, and Pablo had his trusty portable TV to "keep in touch with the Test match score" , but having travelled all the way down with him it was obvious that "This Morning" and "Trisha" are of far more importance to the ageing spin whizzard.
However, on arrival at Cayhtorpe, the heavens opened again and by the looks of the two pieces of tarpaulin covering most of the wicket, except a strategically placed section in the middle, we would not be seeing much action today. Pablo, showing true touring spirit, was first to rise to the occasion - or rather first the bar. But here, he set a trend for the rest of the weekend. On opening his purse (and yes it was a ladies purse) he declined the offer of buying his team-mates a beer. Selfish bugger. Just like his batting and running between the wickets. It didn't take long for others to follow suit, or for the two Scotts to be well and truly settled at the Pool table. It could be a long afternoon. And then, Jonny T arrived. Late, confused at where his directions had gone wrong, but still on time for any start in play.
The rain stopped, but surely it would take ages for the ground to dry before we'd start playing. Only one thing for it - wait for the tea to come out. But no, a cry from Bradders, the touring skipper , "Come on lads, lets get changed. The game is on and I want to bat!"
Batting first on a soggy wicket, there wasn't much to report. Apart from Caythorpe's "mini-me". Bowling at the bottom end was a little Phil Chamberlain. The glasses were the same, the quiff was getting there, and the style of bowling was uncanny. At 14 this young lad was shaping the ball incredibly well, and seeing Chamberlain-snr umpiring at his end brought much derision from the Exiles followers. A few words of encouragement were made from Chamberlain-snr to the young pretender, and it had immediate effect - wide, wide, 4, 2, leg-side dross - need I carry on. "Don't listen to him young man, he's past it. You have it all ahead of you" came the cries of his team-mates. Chamberlain-snr's response "He'd better make the most of it now, as he'll soon find wine, women and song to put him off his length" (Huh herm!)
Nothing much else to report about the game. About 20 odd uneventful overs were bowled before the rain came down again, and ended any chance of further play. The few who had a chance to bat, did, but didn't do much to impress the scorers or the fines committee. All this talk of the ashes igniting the public's interest in cricket, seemed a long way from the reality of village cricket at Caythorpe on a wet and miserable afternoon! Not to worry though, as tea was round the corner.
Fashionable Cakes
The moment we were all waiting for the Caythorpe Tea. A veritable feast. Sandwiches, pizzas, crisps, you name it, they had the lot. However, there were two talking points that are worth noting. Firstly, Martin's decision to wear his cricket whites and tan moccasins (a fashion no-no by anyone's standards), and secondly, and more importantly, the Battomberg Cake incident(s).
It is no secret that the Exiles touring side were not particularly fashion conscious. But, this does not excuse entertaining the "nerdie look". Martin failed to realise his mistake and, quite rightly, got a slating for it. Tanned shoes, with cricket whites - Oh come on! He argued that this was reasonable behaviour and etiquette within a cricket club. Reasonable argument? No, and none of his team-mates were going to listen to it. Martin failed to register the abuse he received (and has received throughout the season I hasten to add), and decided to model the same look to a Public House the following day. Now really - dressed like this in a public place.
Anyone who has played cricket will tell you that cake is an important part of any game. But some players really don't know when to stop. Pablo is obviously one of those players. And by displaying characteristics that Jimmy '5 Bellies' would have been proud of, he brought the whole room to a standstill by helping himself to not 1, not 2, not 5 but 10 separate trips to the plate of Battomberg. The sugar rush this gave him was immense, and for those of us that had the dubious honour of spending time in his company during the 3 hours that followed this cake-fest, will have seen a new Pablo. He was energised, excitable and thoroughly unbearable. Bring back the docile, meek, mild Pablo that we have all grown to know and excuse from time to time, "That belly of his sure does take a filling".
Da Bizniz
6pm, Tea's done and dusted. "What do we do now then?". Head back to Grantham and 'get on it' was the consensus.
If by 'getting on it', we mean drinking quietly in a corner, playing some pool and eating dodgy fried substances on the way back to our digs then most of the touring party 'got on it'. If we mean, drinking yourself absolutely stupid, singing and talking to yourself, offering your business card to anyone who looks interested, throwing your drink all over the place and pole dancing in one of Grantham's leading night-spots, then there was a more select group for 'getting on it'.
Names will not be aligned with any of the activities - as you know who you are, and should be suitably ashamed - but there should never be a chance to repeat the performance of Exiles on the dancefloor or the opportunity for them to 'impress' members of the opposite sex. Our skills are better kept to the cricket field, where no-one apart from our team-mates can pass judgement on our (in)abilities.
Same old story
Hangovers aside, stories of the previous nights activities regaled, the first test of the new day was breakfast. Few made it, but those that did all credit to them.
Unfortunately though, the weather looked no better. Surprisingly, Wil Scott was displaying uncharacteristic qualities - positive thinking. He made a number of rash statements like "the weather should hold", "we'll get a game in today", etc etc etc. Tempting fate. Definitely. No sooner had we set off for our next fixture - Newage - had the rain decided to fall again. This time, much heavier than the previous day. Wil - please stick to the tried and tested. Negativity is the best policy.
We were more determined to play this game though. Mainly to justify to ourselves a weekend away from our loved-ones, but also to run off a lot of the rubbish we had all consumed the night before. And, most importantly, because Quentin had made the special journey that day to stand in for Mark Devlin's absence due to a rumoured bowel problem. The rain, therefore, was not going to beat us.
We don't need to know much about the match, other than we played a little bit more than the day before. What we did play, was played in the rain - again. And more of us got to do something - mainly because Amil was out second ball (apparently it was unplayable, the best ball ever, blah, blah, blah) and Quentin also failed to trouble the scorers. Thanks for coming though, Q.
The most notable achievement though was Martin. When he woke from his pit a few hours previously, he did not look good. Now, at the game, he was looking decidedly green. In fact, no one wanted to stand next to him for too long just in case they had to 'clean up the mess'. However, by taking 40 winks (I said winks) in the changing room seemed to sort him out, and he woke up just in time for tea and for the game to be called off!
Whose strike is it anyway?
What followed, should never be repeated. Numerous members of the touring side should have known better. They have been to Grantham on many occasions, and whilst the name of a certain drinking/dancing establishment has changed to "CLUB IT" - two extra letters would have been a more appropriate name - it has not changed its ambience (or should that be ambulance).
However, before this tale of drunken debauchery could unfold to the full, there was a little matter of a ten-pin bowling competition. The slow bowlers were tasked with taking on the quicks. The teams shaped up as follows:
The Slowies |
The Quickies (Huh herm) |
|---|---|
| The Plow | Sam the Man |
| Q | The Pot |
| Korbet | Wingco |
| Bradders | Mad Dog |
| Wil | Bizniz |
| JT | Cookie |
After two days with little or no competitive sport between them, the smell of testosterone was over-powering. The Quickies (Huh herm) were always the stronger of the two teams, and with the shear power and pace of Sam "The Man" and Phil "The Pot", the accuracy of "Cookie", the unpredictability of Andy "Wingco" and Joe "da Bizinz", and the shear bizarre, but affective style of Martin "Mad Dog" Thomas, the result was never in doubt. Only Q and Wil put up any sort of resistance from the Slowies, as most of them considered joining Mad Dog in the corner to contemplate the strategy behind a successful ten-pin bowler.
Particular mention must go to Bradders though, who found the game a bit beyond him. He chose a "ladies" bowling ball, but still struggled to lift it. He couldn't seem to put any sort of aggression into his deliveries, and all-but rolled it pathetically along the ground from between his legs. Embarrassing. This wasn't the end of it performance though, as each bowl was followed by a "Keith Roberts" pose. The humour wasn't lost on the rest of the competitors, the first time. But if a jokes worth doing once, its worth doing over 30 times hey Mark.
Then came the real "action". Some of the more sensible Exiles went for a very civilised Indian meal - whilst others decided to "hit" CLUB IT. And that is exactly what happened. Whilst Bradders sat spinning on his chair - probably in time with the latest boy band medley (he is an adult isn't he?), our man of the moment, JT, got clumped in the face for, as he put it, "no reason" - apart from watching a cat fight on the dance floor between two burly local woman. A classy joint, I'm sure you'd agree.
Wot no cricket?
Essentially, this all added up to excellent preparation for the final game of the tour. With hangovers-a-plenty, and hardly anyone surfacing for breakfast on Sunday morning, the last thing most of us wanted to see was clear skies and no rain. No such luck.
The game was on, and as the match report states, it was not the Exiles finest hour. It was arguably the worst performance in the field by any Exiles team. The high(sorry I mean low)lights were numerous dropped catches (although there were two fabulous catches held by Phil Chamberlain - I'm writing this, so I can say what I want about them), horrendous bowling figures - particularly for Sam (5 for 52 - that's 5 overs not 5 wickets), Wil throwing a 'wobbler' at the fielders for not backing up, poor throws and generally misbehaving on the field (ooo hand-bags), diabolical fielding all-round, and numerous complaints about the ball being too hard! Its lucky that the Fines had not kicked into gear, as there could have been many open cheques being written for this piss-poor performance.
Same again next year
Although cricket seemed to be of secondary importance to the Energy Exiles Cricket Tour of 2005, it was still a top weekend and one that should be repeated.
So, weather permitting, same again next year lads?
Hopefully, there will be enough cricket played to enable the fines system to actually be put into practice.