Edgworth Tavs (147–7, 19.1ov) bt ECRC Darts (144–9)
“The sun scarcely graced the English cricket summer with its presence in 1978, but when it did it seemed to adorn the blond head of David Gower.
“The young Leicestershire left-hander could do little wrong. He typified a new, precocious breed of stroke-players, imperious and exciting, who added colour and glamour to an otherwise bedraggled English summer.”
That’s from Wisden. It’s not often said that Tavs’ batting fulfils the criteria of “imperious and exciting” — indeed, “bedraggled” is somewhat more typical. But some of our hitting yesterday will live long in the memory; Beggy’s aggression and tenacity, Dave’s timing and flair… and a gifted young stroke-player by the name of John Cass who saw us over the line for our first win in not a little while.
It’d been a long winter in the nets for Cass, all bright white cricket gear, helmet, grit and determination. Added to which that creeping, dreadful sense that his son’s now better than him. To supplement that DACA batting practice, a Spanish sojourn to a cricket camp for the whole Cass clan. Lucky Jen.
And it all came home to roost here, Tavs requiring something like 14 off the final two overs and John, who had been square leg umpire for what must have felt like an eternity, finally called to the crease to replace Alan and his vital innings of 20.
He took his guard, fiddled with his helmet, and surveyed the scene before him. Not a conventional field from the Darts lads, who to be fair do not play a conventional brand of cricket. Basically, every fielder in a ring about 20 metres from the bat. Getting it past them was no mean feat — but get it past them and there were runs to be had.
Tavs had done well in the chase, with Darts racking up an imperious 144 in their innings, thanks in no small part to getting off to an absolute flyer. It’s fair to say Tavs’ morale might have been wobbling after the first five bowlers leaked 80+ runs off their 10 overs. Ouch. No blame to be apportioned here though — sometimes you come up against batters who know their straight drive from their leg sweep. What can you do?
What you can do is what Tavs did, grinding our way back into the contest. Alan’s pair of overs went for a miserly 10 runs, all tricky left arm over and targeting the batsman’s toes. Boggy got one hit aerial and Mick did as well as ever to position himself firmly underneath, taking a catch out of the vivid Edgworth sky. Smallwood, pissed off at a run-out mix-up off the final ball of his previous over, bent his back and bowled a Dartsman off the pads. And the wheel turned…
Clatter clatter went the Darts’ stumps as Begg rolled off a pair of pearlers and sent two of the oppo trudging back to the pavilion. Then the Spin Twins — Ashwin and Jadeja, Embury and Edmonds, Schwarzenegger and DeVito — entered the fray: Will looking to bounce back from a chastening previous outing at Eagley, Ewan with a pulled thigh and all the nimbleness and turning circle of Waddi after two bottles of malbec.
There is the age old question: who would you like to kiss your forehead as you lie on your deathbed? Angelina Jolie? Margot Robbie? David Attenborough? I want none of them — I want the ball that Will bowled that just gently kissed the top of a Darts batter’s bails, sending them falling to the floor and the fielding side into raptures. Then an even better one, scooting past the defence and, in the video we’ve all seen, actually propelling the batsman backwards as his stumps are rearranged. Ewan too, whose deliveries have a touch more spite, disturbing stumps twice and suddenly Tavs are back in this.
See it home, boys. Keep it tight. On our toes, Tavs. Mick had us in saving the one, though not of great use when the ball bursts through Smallwood’s attempt at a catch at square leg and rockets away for a boundary. Not ideal.
Jason, Mick, Ewan and Will kept the score down and Smallwood even managed a cheeky run-out off the final ball of the innings, and Tavs trundled off needing 145 to win and not quite sure whether that total was 20 more than it should have been or, given the start, about 15 better than things might have turned out.
Back out to bat and the weather changed, from glorious June sunshine to a brooding sky and a quickening wind. “Quickening” being appropriate as, as if to match Darts’ start, Tavs kicked straight into fifth gear and commenced the chase, like the Tyrannosaurus in Jurassic Park bearing down on Jeff Goldblum in his Jeep.
Beggy, eyes wide and gripping his bat like an axe, took no bullshit and smacked the opening bowlers to all parts. There’s an evil glint in his eye and a dangerous smile playing on his grimaced lips when he gets in this sort of mood — he had the same expression when he later saw Jenny’s curry options.
Jason Smith, too, hit out — though only the one time successfully before offering up a catch, and after Beggy retired Will came and went with his stumps scattered, ironically by the very same bloke he’d bowled half an hour earlier.
Not in any kind of rhythm, Smallwood nonetheless ran the ones into twos and tried to keep the strike ticking over and offering most of the bowling to better batters. Following Beggy was a just-as-outstanding innings from Dave, whose follow-through after planting a six straight down the ground is higher than The Shard. A quite remarkable debut from the newest Tav, whose skill with the willow will doubtless make him an indispensable addition to the XI for as long as he cares to play.
Dave departed, Bogg in, Smallwood out to an attempted sweep that went straight up. Alan joined Boggy, who seemed in great touch until he came down the track to tell Alan to play within himself and see off Darts’ most dangerous bowler. If only Boggy had taken his own advice — a big swipe, a miss and stumps everywhere, and an extremely narked Yorkshireman in the pavilion a minute later. That’s two spectacular bowleds in two innings — anyone got the number for a sports psychologist?
At this point Alan was joined by Keogh. Don’t be fooled by his wearing bright blue swimming shorts — Matt K takes this as seriously as anyone. Pugnacious pulls round the corner and the scoreboard kept ticking, though admittedly not as quickly as earlier in the innings. A few quick singles declined and ones not turned into twos, and the Tavs on the increasingly chilly balcony started getting restless. We were inching towards our summit, but would we get there in time?
Which brings us back to that striking image of that gifted young stroke-player by the name of John Cass, out there with a handful of balls left to get his side over the line. He’s netted, he’s grafted, he’s been all the way to Spain and back. And here it is, the moment itself. No more theory — down to brass tacks.
Wallop! A crunching four, piercing that Darts ring of fielders. Wallop!! Another, this time a beauty straight down the pitch. Fielders were in pursuit as the ball made its merry way to the rope… and there was no getting there! A boundary, match over, Tavs the victors and the celebrations could begin.
It was hard-fought, scrappy and turgid in places, glorious and flairful in others. It was, in other words, classic Tavs. Well done lads.
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Highlight of the match: Young John Cass with balls of steel, seeing his side over the line. Well played, sir.
Lowlight: Young John Cass rubbing his knee in his final over keeping behind the stumps, not quite noticing Darts run a quick single to get their best batsman back on strike.
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Best bowling: Beggy’s bang-bang two wickets for just nine runs as Tavs clamped down on the run rate.
Best batting (must retire on 25): Dave sir, what a debut! Please sir, can I have some more?
