On Tour...
2006: A "Fine" Tour - Apart from the cricket
Time again for Grantham to feel the force of the Energy Exiles cricketing (oh alright, drinking) prowess … The 2006 Energy Exiles tour was upon us, and many were primed and ready for action - unfortunately there was the small issue of cricket to be played first …
Whilst detailed match reports will be prepared on the games played, this report identifies some of the off-field antics and more notable achievements than any of the touring party would manage on the field of play …
The Journey
You would have thought that there would be nothing to report on the journey from London to Grantham. Well how wrong could you be. The A1 holds many delights, and it would seem that the designated drivers for the Exiles tour paid more attention to some of the more interesting roadside signs than watching the traffic around them.
When the team had finally gathered outside their luxury, yet bijou accommodation at Grantham college, a number of the drivers seemed to get together, and mutterings of "Did you see that sign?" … " I am sure it said Adult Shop" … I'm amazed any of us made it at all with such a distraction hanging over us …
Fines-a-plenty
Last year's tour saw the introduction of a new fines system to the Exiles tour. However, as very little cricket was actually played last year due to the freak Grantham weather, the fines system didn't really kick into gear. This year saw a completely different prospect and there were a few who suffered at the hands of the Fines Committee (or rather Phil Chamberlain's ability to fine the un-fineable) …
As usual, as soon as we arrived at the Caythorpe ground, the skies darkened and down came the rain. Not to be deterred we started the game anyway, with Exiles winning the toss and electing to bat. A fineable decision if ever there was one. In gathering a very modest total, there were a number of particular issues to note from the Exiles performance:
It's a Man's game
Was it a knick, or wasn't it. Mark claimed it wasn't, but the Caythorpe wicket-keeper and slip cordon were convinced. Mark, to his credit, normally walks. Well that's what he kept telling us late into the night (yawn - boring batting). There was no deviation and Mark stood his ground. The keeper (who was just out of short trousers) began the usual sledging that accompanies a 'non-walker' like Mark. But Mark was having none of it, and took exception to the little chap's remarks. A tirade of abuse followed, leaving the little glove-wearing fellow dazed and confused, and looking for support from any of his team mates. Mark didn't stop there though, and showing true machismo, offered to take the matter further with anyone who was listening with fisticuffs. Oh dear …! That's it Mark, now Exiles have got the NSPCC on our backs …
Shocking behaviour. And although Mark secured the highest fines for the match with this outburst, none of his team-mates could quite believe it had happened. An apology did follow, but we are worried that next year a few "big brothers" will be watching the game, especially when Mark is batting …!
The other notable performances I guess, can be summed up by: Wil's running and calling (well, not many men have mastered the art of doing two things at once, so the wife tells me); Dom's hat (you can't buy style like that) and plenty of swash-buckling batting at the end of the innings (more buckle than swash I'm afraid). Ah and then, there was tea. No Pablo this year, so no Battenberg cake either. The tourists found both absences hard to bear …
Caythorpe's innings might have started well for the tourists, with Phil managing to bowl 1 ball at the stumps and hitting them. But this soon turned sour, and he decided enough was enough and gestured to his captain the "slitting of the throat action" so as to be removed from the bowling attack early - for the good of the team I hasten to add. Exiles bowling that day was, at its best, poor and only Andy Wingfield and Matt Cook could muster any sort of pride from the performance.
The blame shouldn't simply rest with the bowlers though, as the fielders did their best not to offer a great deal of support. Yes it was raining, and yes the ball was "particularly hard that day" (according to Amil …!), but nothing can excuse Dom's "Treble P" - Piss Poor Performance - in the field. Again, this didn't go unpunished as the fines kitty was beginning to take great shape, but it was felt that Dom was making a special effort to take over the mantel held by The Plough for many years as the team's most ineffectual fielder …! To field at slip takes, I thought, agility, speed of thought and good reactions - why then, when the ball was edged gently towards Dom, did he decide to tactically take his foot away at the point of impact on numerous occasions. Something which he denies - more fool him.
The rain got heavier and heavier throughout the day, and Caythorpe's young side continued to smack our bowling to all corners of the ground. An early finish, at least …! The highlight in their innings though was the precision with which the Caythorpe's opener was smacked on the box by a rising delivery from Andy Wingfield - priceless. What followed, apart from a 14 year old's little yelp, was a over-dramatic slow-motion fall to the ground, accompanied by the worst cries of sledging ever heard by an Exiles player. Phil, still smarting from bowling like a twat, was heard by most of the players to make comments that Glen "Where's your bra" McGrath would have been happy with…I can't repeat them word for word, but they went along the lines of:
"Don't rub 'em mate, count 'em"
"Its lucky they haven't dropped yet."
And then, when the young batsman had got back to his feet, gathered some of his composure and wiped the pre-puberty tears from his eyes, Phil was heard to encourage Andy, the bowler at the time, with:
"Good areas mate, keep 'em there."
You could tell the Exiles were appalled by this, well judging by their reaction in the field - light sniggering, followed by full-on laughter …!!!! Only the occasional tut from Wil was offered as any sort of punishment (well apart from a sever fining later on, of course).
What followed should never be talked about, ever again
Although the Exiles were firmly defeated at the hands of a team of boys, they did not let this dampen their spirits. Far from it - in fact, it fuelled them on to a drinking session paralleled only by last year's effort.
Throughout the day there had been many claims of wanting to experience Grantham's night life (especially from the few "Daddies" on the tour, who had worked hard to get their pass for the weekend). To some (well those who had experienced it before), this was baffling, as CLUB IT (still missing those two important letters) did not really hold enough allure to entice many of the tourists inside. However, for others, it was destiny …
While the sensible shoe brigade went their merry way to bang on the doors of a local Indian restaurant to demand service when all the bars of Grantham had run out of beer for the evening, the remainder made their way to the only Club worth visiting. Well that was apart from Captain Fantastic who had been left behind in the last boozer. No-one owned up to forgetting the skip, and it started a rumour that he must have fallen asleep in there. This was never substantiated, and Andy looked mighty miffed when he finally caught up with his team mates on the dance floor …!
What followed is hard to put into words. But then, I'd rather write about it, than have a photo. It was the focus of much attention, and probably goes down as the moment of the tour. It received the largest single fine of the tour and, for those present, has left a mental scar that will take a lot to remove …
The Donkey-Kebab Experience
Cricket tours are renowned for their misadventure, drunken tales of sporting prowess and the occasional exposure to kebabs. However, the 2006 Energy Exiles tour managed to combine this all at 4am on Saturday morning.
Luke must hang his head (Huh herm) in shame. After enjoying his night out to the absolute limit, he returned to his digs in what can only be described as a "right state". Seeing a few of his team-mates still up, talking about the events of the day and beginning to tuck into their evening snacks, Luke decided it was time to turn on a show ….
I can not bring myself to repeat most of the tales regaled by his team mates, but the following words, in no particular order, should help explain what happened:
Drunken wailing … wet underpants … door banging … crying … naked flesh … Amil's kebab … self-loathing … self-harm … urinating … man-hood … exhibitionist …
All this adds up to "The Donkey Kebab Experience". I would strongly suggest that you talk to Amil about the rules of the game, as he got the closest view of the action. Before the game started, and before Luke was fully warmed up, Amil's kebab was an inviting sight for any slightly merry tourist. At the point of Luke's full "exposure" to The Donkey Kebab Experience, and his own interpretation of the rules, Amil's kebab had lost all its appeal …
I appreciate that this is slightly cryptic, but I'm taking it no further …
For some, there was no chance of witnessing any of the action. The walk from the hottest ticket in Grantham Central back to the College digs, by most people's standards is a short one. However, after copious amounts of alcohol - many different varieties, colours and strengths - this is not the case for Phil who struggled to make the last few strides to his room. Taking a rest under the bushes near the entrance to the College, he attempted to "have a bit of a breather". However, over an hour later when he woke up from a deep, deep, drunken sleep covered in wet leaves, it dawned on him that this pit-stop was a foolish mistake.
Also, as Andy and JT made their way back to the digs from the Kebab-ery, JT ran off claiming that he was soon to be caught short of the toilet - charming. Leaving Andy stranded, he now had to remember the way back all on his own. As he is known as Captain Fantastic, you would expect him to be up to the task. However, after the third wrong turning, Andy was beginning to get worried, as the College was nowhere in sight and his kebad supper was getting cold. He finally made it to the riverside walk near the college (who knows how), but on the wrong side of the college gates. Suddenly, out of the bushes, rushed JT looking a little lost (but relieved in ever sense of the word). After a moment of quiet reflection, they realised they'd taken a wrong turning somewhere, but couldn't be bothered to walk back round to the college entrance. In true Exiles agile style, they clambered over the 6 foot fence - without spilling any kebab either! Quality …
Some might have thought that we were partying like we'd won, but on this evidence and preparation for the next game, I fear The Donkey Kebab Experience was to be the only thing we (well a select few) might win this tour.
The day after the night before
For some the day broke a bit too early, and as usual only a handful made breakfast. This was easier for some, as they only had to make their way from the nearest hedge, as that is where they had slept. For others, significant sleep deprivation had taken over and the fact that there were no crying babies to calm down or dirty nappies to change, nothing would prize them from their pits.
For others, another game was introduced. Piecing together the previous night. For a few this was easy, but for most impossible. When the full tale of Luke's exploits were known to the tourists, one member of the touring squad took great pleasure in his colleague's embarrassment. At last something like this had happened without the boy Bradshaw at the heart of the nonsense …!
Hangover cricket
Again, as with our first match, the less said about the cricket played at Newage the better. We batted well - although Dom's boring batting could not go unpunished. All right, he might have scored 50 runs, but my word it was painful to watch … 203 seemed like a reasonable score, but unfortunately we had to bowl.
As we took to the field, the wind got up, the rain came in and the Exiles wanted one thing - to get off the pitch as quickly as possible. They had their wish - once again thanks to some wayward and expensive bowling. The only bowler to avoid punishment was Wil, as his medium-pace swing bowling (is that being a bit over-generous) seemed to cause the Newage batsman some difficulties. As for the rest of us, oh just concentrate on the drinking …!
There were a couple of highlights from this game worth noting though - all of which happened after the game. Dom's reaction to the fines he had accrued was priceless. Yes he'd played well, but it would seem that "boring batting" was an affliction he was paying for greatly. Then, we have the Scott brothers. Sam managed to sprain his ankle. One could argue that could have been the reason behind his "interesting" bowling spell, but he only picked up this injury back in the changing room trying to manoeuvre himself past the Exiles array of kit-bags. The ankle looked like a balloon after 5 minutes of gentle massage (huh herm), and concern was spreading through the team for the next game - but then we were convinced that Mark would know a few locals to help us out, whether they could play cricket or not …!
The final act of the game though rested with Wil. To crown off his sound performance with the ball, you would have thought that Wil would have been first in the bar to celebrate. Not so. To the cries of "I've got a bit of a dodgy tummy", Wil had to make tracks - quite literally. He needed to get back to Grantham to the comfort of a friendly and welcoming toilet (the Newage facilities have never been the same since they were "Devlin-ed" a few seasons ago). That's probably too much information, isn't it …
Dirty dancing
That was that for another day, and once we'd supped a few ales with the opposition and watched a bit of Leicestershire's attempt to secure the Twenty20 crown on SkySports, it was off to Grantham for more of the same. Particular note has to be given to Dom here as he, out of all the tourists, was the most keen to get amongst it. Shocking.
The night past calmly enough - mainly because Luke had decided to nurse his shame and have a "quiet night in". Much to Amil's delight. A few cheeky liveners in Grantham's second favourite night-spot soon got the crowd going, and JT and Dom had them all moving for the exits with their tremendous array of "chicken-dancing moves". JT - I now see that that must stand for John Travolta…!!! The shots flowed (more than they did during Dom's innings) and the night finished with a bottle of the house's best champagne (oh alright, dodgy Cava that they'd probably got in from Asda's).
A good night is usually judged by how many made breakfast - and there were less present on Sunday than the previous morning.
A dark and damp end (huh herm)
Unfortunately, when we did all awake on Sunday, the clouds had gathered even more and the rain had fallen throughout the night (glad I stayed away from those bushes on Saturday night). The last game was therefore called off. Disappointing not to play, but then it was our best result of the tour.
We said our fond farewells and made our separate ways home thinking that was the end of the action. Not to be. Mark, not to be outdone by his touring companions, had one last trick up his sleeve. Although this was only witness by Andy and JT, I feel the transcripts from a voice-message left by Mark and an e-mail received from Andy need to be submitted as evidence:
Voice-message on Phil's phone, left by Mark on Sunday 14th August:
"Er…Hi Phil. Er…just thought I'd phone, as I think I may have done something worthy of the tour report. Er…Andy and JT can fill you in…But there was this Italian guy at a service station…and er…well Andy and JT were there…Er…Well anyway we didn't see eye to eye…Er…yeah…"
E-mail from Andy to Phil, Tuesday 15th August:
Myself & JT reckoned that something that happened on our way back to London on Sunday was probably worthy of inclusion in your tour report.
We gave Mark a lift to somewhere near Stamford (I forget the name) to meet his parents for lunch. Whilst on the road, on 3 separate occasions, people tried to get our attention - pointing to something that was apparently wrong with the car. So, we had a look, couldn't really see anything and decided it was probably the lack of pressure in the front right tyre. So, we moved on to the next petrol station to fill up.
When we got to the gas pump, there was a campervan parked in front of us. We thought nothing of it and starting sorting out the tyre. A few minutes later, the guy in the campervan came over to us and, reasonably politely I thought, made movements/signals to the affect of trying to get us to move back a bit, so he could get out.
But we didn't quite understand what the problem was, as he seemed to have plenty of room to move forward into. Anyway he came closer and started speaking to Mark, asking us to move. I forget exactly what was said, but clearly Mark got agitated to the point of standing up and threatening this guy/shouting, etc. It looked like Mark was about to run over and start a fight with him. Anyway Mark lost it - totally unnecessarily. I, and I think JT as well, were taken aback by this overly aggressive behaviour. Anyway, the guy moved away and drove off, swearing & shouting back at Mark….
We later figured out that the campervan driver was from Italy (Palermo), by looking at his number plate - which explains his slightly temperamental behaviour, but not Mark's!
And what with his behaviour towards the keeper at Caythorpe… Is something bugging him?
Providing some extra clarity was JT's follow-up e-mail of 15th August:
I can't remember the exact words but it was something like:
"Why don't you just f**k off, just f**k off....." repeated about 5 times.
Mark's interpretation of events (received on 24th August - now that he had had plenty of time to reflect):
While we were at the service station, a camper van in front of us reversed and looked very likely to crash straight into JT's car. JT sounded his horn (Ahem!) and the driver got out to say he had no room to move forward. We then moved back a little, but then the driver got out again, moaning and asking whether were asleep. At this point, having grown tired of his bizarre driving manoeuvres and attempts to take the p*ss out of us, I suggested to him that I would make him sleep if he didn't clear off. Anyway, that seemed to do the trick. When he vacated the service station, it was clear that he had plenty of room to move his camper van.
I shall leave it there…!
A "fine" effort chaps. Same time, same place next year…?
Phil