So wrote Herman Melville, and so often goes the Bodleian Cricket Club, ever hopeful of finding the distant shores of a friendly opponent in whose ale-houses we can avail ourselves after victory. With a perennial optimism bordering on the certifiable, Bodley tend to head straight to the seaside, or to far-flung corners of the country where the standard of cricket might just be poor enough to flatter us, but knowing full well that even the senior's social Sunday league is beyond us. But the pain of defeat should never diminish ones appetite for the next challenge - especially when you've been careful to choose places with so many fine pubs, curry houses and top-class (ahem) bed and breakfasts.
We just love touring, and we love it regardless of the result - if you think we look like good opposition, get in touch, we might even bring you some beer. Here's an interactive map of our travels so far...
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Friday 7th - Sunday 9th July, Norwich. Scorecards can be found here, viewer discretion advised... www.pitchero.com/clubs/bodleiancc/teams/255079/fixtures-results Moderate to good, occasionally very poor... As the earth gently bakes through warming rays, and shadows start to lengthen in the twilight haze, and you’re on your third Tory Prime Minister in only a matter of days, it can but mean one thing: namely that an entire year has passed since the last Bodley Tour, and that yet again the evangelical impulse to spread the gift of genial social cricket to all corners of the non-First-Class cricketing nation has returned with a vengeance! This year the mysterious, all-powerful ‘Committee’ decided that sufficient time had now elapsed since Bodley had last ventured to Norfolk in 2013, and that a decade was surely long enough to heal the wounds of what was, by all accounts, a memorable last trip East. And so, like some Poundland regression therapy, it was agreed that a return to sunny Norwich would be the order of the day, and that any residual cricketing demons could be suitably banished in the process. Although hard to believe, there were in fact one or two Norwich virgins, so the prospect of a cricketing sojourn with opportunities to experience local crabs and Stiffkey cockles in the home of the Silver Knight that used to go round and round and round had much to appeal to the more cultured cricketing type, of which Bodley CC, naturally, abounds. Now all those uninitiated in the joys of cricket may well find themselves struggling to make sense of it all. What with batters going out when they’re in, and back in when they’re out, it is all rather befuddling. And that is before you add a whole load of fiendishly complex rules into the heady mix. Consequently, the expert practitioner needs to be tin-tack sharp if they are to succeed. And then there are the endless imponderables that also intrude on and influence the passage of play, such as rapidly scudding low cloud or the deep-set deluge which gave the eponymous Duckworth and Lewis cricketing immortality. And then there’s all the equipment to try and make sense of! Even with the humble ball do you choose the ‘Readers Rampant’, the ‘Duke Milner’, or the exciting new, pre-tampered ‘Kookaburra Kosher’? And surely a love of nature is important for this most quintessentially bucolic game, where cricketers share the field of play in close harmony with the dancing Dragonfly, balletic Bumblebee, and swooping Swift? So, I hear you ask, what would you do with a clueless shower who can’t tell a good ball from a bad, and frantically waft and swat at anything that comes near them? And whilst you’re holding onto that thought, lets introduce this year’s intrepid band of Bodley tourists. Leading the campaign, as always, were veterans Stuart Ackland and Dave Busby, with fellow stalwart Andrew Milner scheduled to join in the fun on Saturday when he returned from the annual inspection of his extensive Yorkshire Estates. Indeed, Bodley were eagerly anticipating his arrival as he was using the tour as an opportunity to unveil his very own bespoke Bodley kit that has been hand-crafted in Baronet Satin by his very own North Korean sportswear brand, with its unique sizing of ‘IXL’. Hot on the heels of this wealth of experience were the engine room of the team, with Matthew Neely, Gavin Robinson, Gareth Jones, James Shaw, Phil Burnett and Tim Philipson on hand to temper the diva-esque tendencies of the old guard. Completing the ensemble were the relative newbies Dom Hewitt and Dan Shaw, both products of Bodley’s world famous youth policy that has ensured that the median age of the team has resolutely remained satisfyingly just shy of the half-century. Of course Bodley were originally supposed to have also been able to call upon an occasional cameo from a certain David Shackleton but, alas, before Bodley had even hit the Great East Road they were dealt a blow by the sudden announcement that the rather volatile Shackleton would not be joining the tour after all. Apparently, he was up against a tight deadline to complete his latest sure-fire bestseller which documents an ill-fated and somewhat messianic inter-war literary belief that it was in fact possible to walk to France. So, if you are looking for a real ‘page-turner’ this summer, be sure to keep an eye out for ‘Virginia Woolf: Not Wading But Drowning’, available in all good bookshops soon. Despite this setback we really couldn’t ask for eleven more talented cricketers, and as such we would just have to try and make do with what we had. And so, with one last collective rummage through kit bags to check that Abdominal Guards and Deep Heat were all safely packed, and unspoken pacts with the cricketing Gods concluded, all strapped themselves in, set the radio to TMS on Longwave, and headed East towards that cricketing El-Dorado that lay just beyond the horizon. And with that you are heartily encouraged to grab yourself a drink, kick off those closed-toe shoes and immerse yourself in the sheer joy of Bodley attempting to bring its own rather idiosyncratic brand of cricket to yet another Minor County. Of course, if you find you have been affected by anything that is discussed in the following chronicle of events, please write to the Bodleian setting out your concerns, making sure to mark your envelope for the attention of the ‘Brand Management Team’. It began on a Friday... And so, with all Oxonian fugitives safely accounted for it was time to get the show on the road, and so in scenes reminiscent of ‘Convoy’ the class of ’23 buckled-up and made their way to Saxlingham to once more do battle with the eponymous Gents that had thwarted the ambitions of Bodley a decade previous. Now when the sun is warm, the sky azure blue and the promise of village cricket awaits you, the barometer of cosmic perfection starts to hit new heights. And to the lilting refrain of TMS, all immerse themselves in the joy of merely being, and succumb to the comforting thought that despite it all there really is much joy in this Sceptered Isle. And then, as the clock ticks ominously on, a sense of unease starts to chip away at the air of unbounded optimism in the vehicle piloted by Bodley’s very own king of the Map-Room Stuart Ackland, as his charge to North Norfolk appears to be at odds with the route now being suggested by James Shaw’s new-fangled online map gizmo, challenging the authority of decades of cartographical knowledge and surreptitious A3 printouts. After a brief roadside halt to try and work out why the Guru said North but the Google said South, it soon became apparent that Ackland’s proposed route was in fact near perfect – it was just a shame that it related to an entirely different Saxlingham. Still, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger so they say, and so having now performed the obligatory 180-degree U-turn, and with a modicum of pedal now to the metal, it was with some relief that Bodley’s erstwhile Dr Livingstone finally arrived at Saxlingham Gents’ splendid ground and decanted a clutch of rather bemused Bodley cricketers, rather grateful that the match wasn’t being played in Boston as most hadn’t brought their passports with them. Having blotted his copybook perhaps just a trifle with the navigation, fate now presented Ackland with the perfect opportunity for redemption. Having assumed the role of captain during the traditional ‘bonfire of the vanities’ that characterises all Bodley tours, Ackland had repeatedly hinted of some great new ‘Plan’ – Bodley’s very own ‘Nivelle Offensive’ no-less that would carry all before it, delivering inevitable and resounding victory. Now, over the years Ackland has endeavoured to improve his technical, theoretical and philosophical approach to the game via a combination of training, visualisation and Export Strength Lager, so who were we mere mortals to doubt such a visionary? And so with the toss secured, and Bodley electing to bat, it was finally time for the big reveal, as the pencil was auspiciously sharpened and a batting order committed to paper. Now it was not immediately clear what the underlying logic of the ‘Plan’ was. For sure it looked vaguely familiar, but clearly there was a magic ingredient – an indiscernible ‘something’ – that pushed it beyond the limited intellectual cricketing horizons of the rest of team Bodley. Anyway, the big reveal would have to wait for the time being as Bodley’s tradition of eclectic opening partnerships continued as Ackland sauntered out to the middle with a somewhat bemused Burnett at his side. The former was wielding the now legendary ‘Biffa’ – believed by many to be fashioned from a fragment of the one true cross, and almost always eliciting reverential cries of ‘Jesus Christ!’ from all who cast their eyes upon its holy form. Burnett, on the other hand, wore the rather more conventional look of grave concern that is the norm when sharing the middle with Ackland. From the boundary a sense of curiosity predominated as Ackland adopted the guise of the time-served campaigner, casting judicious glances around the pitch to spot the gaps and mentally bank the scoring opportunities that were about to gift themselves to him. It was clear from his demeaner that he had been consulting the latest Best Seller from Bodley’s former Director of Fitness Stephen Arnold, ‘If the Cap Fits: A Dunces Guide to Captaincy’, and as Wenham marked his run-up, this had all the makings of a classic Bodley cricketing encounter. Now Ackland has a somewhat frenetic batting style – rather like being ravished by a nervous breakdown – so this was always going to be nothing if not memorable. And of course it was, though for entirely different reasons than Ackland had originally envisaged. For as Wenham ambled up to the cease to deliver a perfectly workmanlike delivery, Ackland found himself deceived by the line. For good measure he was also deceived by the length, the speed and the bounce, and retreated, cramped-up, back towards his stumps, where a desperate strangulated shot proved unable to connect or deflect the ball which rather ungallantly clattered into his stumps. And so, with his Mayfly moment of glory dashed on the rocks of destiny, Ackland dutifully tucked Biffa under his arm and shuffled back to the Pavilion, truly the Liz Truss of Bodley cricket. Meanwhile, on the boundary, the usual hubbub of activity sprang back to life as Busby rushed to pad up, some cast yet another curious eye over the batting order whilst rummaging for gloves and boxes, and others continued to try and crack the enigma of the ‘Plan’ that was set out in confident pencil before them, whilst offering the obligatory reassurance to a dumbfounded Ackland that he had fallen victim to one of those ‘balls of the century’ that have inexplicably featured so heavily throughout Bodley’s 29 year history. Of course such fine, consoling words are mere fish and chip paper, and soon enough attention returned to the middle, where Busby and Burnett now gave the scorebook the appearance of a firm of Provincial Solicitors. And as the first runs of the tour were finally chalked up by Burnett, and Busby steamed down the other end to confidently take the strike, normal service appeared to have been resumed. Now it is a well-known fact by those who know it well that way before so-called ‘Bazball’ emerged, Bodley CC has long been one of the true pioneers of the ‘unorthodox’ approach to cricket, and this compulsion to cock-a-snook at mere convention has cultivated originality throughout the order, and in particular within the tail that is even more extravagant than a Peacock who’s discovered extensions. And due to the ‘Plan’, this meant that some of this tail-end spice was well up the order today, and despite a batting style that has all the ease of movement and natural elegant athleticism of Virgil Tracy with cramp, Busby was now answering the call to arms, letting fly, and threatening the boundary until, like the Master before him, he succumbed to a surfeit of ambition and found himself bowled, leaving Bodley two wickets down after the first over, and Wenham thinking that Christmas had indeed come early. And so as Busby retraced Ackland’s steps like an unrepentant sinner, Bodley eyes turned to Dom Hewitt to steady the ship, and with nineteen overs remaining there was more than a grain of truth in the refrain of ‘plenty of time’ as he made his way out to the middle, where Burnett gave a visible shrug and solemn shake of the head. Still, it was going to be alright now wasn’t it? And by a remarkable quirk of fate, or physics, or possibly just basic cricketing competence, Bodley had somehow contrived to place at the crease what many observers would have considered to finally resemble a pretty steady, conventional opening partnership, and so it proved to be, but as is the Bodley tradition, in ways that would have been almost unthinkable but a mere three Prime Ministers ago. Ever since his arrival at the club, ‘Bristol Hewitt’ has garnered somewhat of a reputation as the heir-apparent to the now legendary Mike Webb, Bodley’s top ever scorer and ‘nurdler’ extraordinaire. With his wristy Tendulkar flicks he has brought a calm, assured and, dare one say, intellectual presence to the crease at times when Bodley have seemed intent on yet another act of wilful, impulsive self-destruction. Having recently relocated to London due to his love of all things war-like Hewitt has, of late, been moonlighting with long-time Bodley buddies the Hendricks XI, so it would be something of a treat to sit back and reacquaint oneself with the more elegant, subtle approach that was about to unfold out in the middle. After the usual judicious start however it soon became clear that something had inexplicably changed in the Hewitt mindset, that his head had been turned by the need for excitement and danger, the finely poised angled bat cast aside for a devil-may care abandon that was less poke and more Stokes. And so it came to pass that the honour would fall to Hewitt to smite Bodley’s first boundary of the tour, as his companions beyond the rope tried to work out just what, exactly, was going on. Burnett on the other hand seemed somewhat re-assured that he finally now appeared to be partnered with a fellow stroke-player, and consequently it wasn’t long before Bodley were cantering along at a run-a-ball or more, and playing shots so exquisite that Thomas Bodley himself would have gladly surrendered his last Rolo to either of this new dynamic pairing. Order, so it appeared, had at last been restored. This was all the more remarkable as it was in the face of some pretty challenging bowling, with the traditional two-over limit meaning that regular, reliable line and length was supplemented by a cornucopia of unpredictable fare delivered with shameless abandon by a gamut of ‘occasional’ bowlers, with some veritable hand-grenades being lobbed down the strip that restricted expansive play to all except those willing to take on the ball. Fortunately for Bodley, Hewitt and Burnett seemed to have gauged exactly what was required, and more importantly, how to deliver it, and so began a passage of play that was a pleasing mix of scampered singles, tight twos, tortuous threes and brisk boundaries, and it wasn’t long before Hewitt chalked up another first of the tour when he reached the 25 run limit and retired from the crease to the hearty cheers of his now rather less concerned teammates on the boundary. Replacing Hewitt out in the middle was Jones, a player who had likewise experienced something of a damascene conversion to explosive expansive cricket over the last couple of seasons, and as such there was a heightened sense of anticipation as he adjusted his gloves, cast an assured eye over the field placings, and cocked his bat. Before Jones had a chance to get his eye in however Burnett had indulged in a late flurry of runs to chalk up an impressive 30, and retired with what appeared to be a flicker of satisfaction at a job well done just about discernible on that worldly-wise visage. Perhaps it was the novelty of what appeared to be a revolving door of retirements that distracted Jones, but it certainly came as something as a shock to those watching on the boundary when he was judged LBW when an aggressive swing failed to connect with the ball. And so as Jones departed with a disappointing and well under-par three, Bodley found themselves three wickets down and ninety-one runs on the board after the thirteenth over, which seemed to be a pretty comfortable position to be in all things considered. And with Neely and Robinson now at the crease there was certainly no cause for alarm, with the combination of consummate run accumulation from one end and a rather more smash-and-grab approach from the other giving the appearance of a face-off between Cliff Thorburn and Jimmy White to all those enjoying the spectacle unfold on the boundary, whilst always the score continued to climb. That is not to say that everything passed off without incident – this was a Bodley innings after all. When a particularly high ball was launched at Neely for instance an ambitious though missed attempt to smite the ball all the way to Cromer did see the ball brush the top of the stumps, but the height was judged to be excessive, even by Busby standards. So on this occasion Bodley could perhaps breathe a little sigh of relief that as Saxlingham had provided the umpires, the judgement of Solomon didn’t fall to a clearly frustrated Ackland, whose arms were a frustrated tic-tac blur beyond the jurisdiction of the boundary rope. In the case of Robinson, it was less a case of nuances, and rather more the Laws of Motion, as a thunderous thwack from that trunk of a bat simply refused to be smothered by mere mortal flesh, and so as Bodley entered the final over, both Robinson and Neely gallantly retired having reached impressive tallies of twenty-eight and twenty-five runs respectively. So once again, and for one final time, it was all-change out in the middle, with Philipson and Dan Shaw now tasked with topping-up what had already proved to be a pretty impressive run haul with the remaining three balls, and like a Greyhound from the traps, Shaw seized on a quick single first-ball leaving Philipson on strike. Now, with only two balls remaining, Philipson decided on a rather uncharacteristic approach to the situation in hand and just swung like a Matelot on shore leave, and through that go-to combination of brute force and a modicum of good fortune somehow managed to hit successive boundaries, and all without the now traditional pointless sacrifice of his wicket. And so as Philipson and Shaw retreated to the Pavilion, a glance to the scoreboard indicated that Bodley had chalked up an impressive 146 runs for the loss of only three wickets, with an equally impressive five retirements throughout the innings. It certainly felt like it was a target that could be defended, which was some comfort at least to those Bodley veterans who had flew too close to the sun on more than one or two occasions, and come crashing down to earth with a rather painful reality check. But for today at least, the spectre of ‘42’ had been comfortably banished to another time and place, and as Saxlingham began to pad up and prepare their response, Bodley could once more reflect on that ‘Plan’, and what it all meant. The big reveal was perhaps somewhat anticlimactic, which it was always going to be when it transpired that the ‘Plan’ was nothing more than alphabetical order. But could it really be thus? Surely not, for even ‘Bristol Hewett’ had not deciphered the fiendish logic that underpinned the batting order, and it was only when some rather uncharitably pointed out to Ackland that ‘P’ does in fact come before ‘R’ that the ‘Plan’ was revealed to be possessed of the intellectual rigour of a Kwasi Kwarteng ‘fiscal event’. Now was not the time to dwell on such matters however, for there was a match still needing to be won, and although 146 was a steep challenge to set, Bodley would, like the Gents before them, be resorting to one or two ‘very occasional’ bowlers ourselves, and as the experience of Newton Poppleford but a mere year ago had taught us, things always had the potential to go wrong really rather quickly. And so as Jenner and Wenhan took strike for the Gents, Ackland cemented his reputation as a cricketing visionary by merely reversing the batting order to generate his order of attack, despite the fixed two-over rule which seemed to have evaded the underlying logic of the ‘Plan’ yet again. Despite such quibbles it did mean that Bodley would be opening with the splendid sight of a Shaw-Shaw double header, with the vicious pace of youth from one end paired with guileful, precise, line and length from the other. It was soon clear that the home side were up for the challenge however, feeding on anything that looked to offer even a sniff of a run which, after the first two overs, had seen them gallop along to fifteen runs without loss. But as Bodley are all too well aware, Shaw will never let you down, and a quick application of that fine-tuned cricketing literacy saw the run-fest curtailed almost as soon as it had begun, and the final two overs conceding a miserly five runs to the Gent’s total. The logic of the ‘Plan’ dictated that it was now the turn of Philipson and Robinson – though not necessarily in that order. Now Robinson has proved to be a past-master of the flighted delivery that has befuddled and dispatched many a seasoned batter. Philipson on the other hand could only bowl line and length – and even then not generally in the same delivery – but to the amazement of some perhaps more than others, the following spell of four overs remained generally tight. Even so, with the Gents dispatching anything that was remotely in their arc of fire they were managing to maintain a strike rate that would position them ideally for a bit of late-innings slogging to take them over the line should the need arise. The next pairing to face the Gents was one rarely witnessed even by genuine Bodley aficionados, with Neely in a sort of self-imposed bowling exile due to the demands placed on him behind the stumps, and Jones who, Druid-like, emerges but twice a year with a ball clutched in this hand. Fortunately for Bodley, the annual Tour has always been a canvas where Jones seems uncharacteristically eager to demonstrate his art, a perfect crystallisation of economy of effort in action. Moreover, this has proved to be surprisingly effective over the years, with batters seemingly unable to work out the actual intent of each delivery, giving much credence to the old axiom of failing to prepare and preparing to fail. Neely too has eschewed the Highland Charge to the crease that used to be such an arresting feature of his delivery style, and instead replaced it with a rather more leisurely and measured technique that asks challenging questions of the unwary batter. Despite the veritable smorgasbord of technique and execution that characterised the Bodley attack, the Gents remained steadfast to the cause, and with Jenner and Wenham both reaching their retirements, the baton now passed to Woodruff and Pearson to continue the chase. With the score just shy of eighty after the twelfth over, and scrutinising glances cast ever-more readily towards the scoreboard from Bodley fielders, things were beginning to be just a tad uncomfortable for some who had experienced such situations all too often before, and more often than not without the much-vaunted happy ending. What was needed was a ‘game-changer’ in every sense of the word, and needless to say the next change of bowling which brought Hewett and Busby into the attack had all the ingredients for a bit of classic Bodley disruption. And the change was not long in coming, for on only his second ball, the languid cartwheel action of Hewett broke through Woodruffs defences and clattered into the stumps, leaving him to depart after a quickfire five, and Hewett chalking up yet another ‘first’ for the Tour. With Busby attempting to fell passing birds like a demented Ack-Ack gunner during the war from the other end this was textbook attrition bowling, and as the boundaries dried up, and the margins of error narrowed for the Gents, there was a perceptible attempt to shift up the gears to try and get the chase back on course. Now as Bodley can well attest, such situations often lead to caution being thrown to the wind. Busby in particular has feasted on the carrion of the injudicious shot for many a year, and today would be no exception, with a looping ball yet again finding a top edge as the batter attempted to launch the ball into the next County, the ball spiralling skywards and into the assured hands of Philipson waiting at square. Well, almost. Now dropping catches is pretty ordinary fare of course; combining the drop with a spirited juggle and sprawl on the floor is much more in keeping with the Bodleian tradition these days however – something that Busby seemed to entirely understand between discretely muttered expletives. With Ackland absenting himself from bowling duties on account of his decision to keep wicket for some unfathomable reason – no doubt also covered in the ‘Plan’ – the crucial remaining overs would be divvied up between Burnett, Jones and Shaw senior, and the final passage of play proved to be equally eventful, though for entirely different reasons. With the pressing need to prevent boundaries the more ‘youthful’ elements of team Bodley were dispatched to roving positions in the deep, and it was when trying to cut off a ball in the somewhat athletic style that appears to be all the rage these days that Hewett jammed his left hand into the turf and dislocated his little finger, thereby notching up yet another ‘first’ for the Tour. And so as Hewett stoically retired from the field of play to have his finger manually wrenched back into place by a ‘Gent’ who somewhat fortuitously also happened to be a physiotherapist in the real world, Bodley resumed with a substitute fielder generously provided by the opposition. The dismissal of Spookman for a crunching twenty-five by Burnett – steaming in with his trademark pent-up volitivity like a cricketing Krakatoa – and Pearson by Shaw senior after a hard run twelve, finally brought the game to an end, with the Gents falling a little way short of the required total with 121 runs for the loss of three wickets. And so as the realisation of a genuine first match Tour victory – possibly the first since 2015 in Hampshire no less – finally began to dawn on a Bodley team somewhat more familiar with the death-knell of crushing defeat, the feeling of a job well done was heightened immeasurably by the scamp-like Hewett greeting the team as they retired from the field of dreams, his finger somewhat rakishly swathed in a tea towel that will, no doubt, be the next must-have fashion accessory in deepest darkest Norfolk. And with the shadows starting to lengthen, the end of an almost perfect day was rounded off in fantastic style when Saxlingham – Gents in both name and nature – served up a stupendous BBQ, washed down by glorious local Wherry Ale. Of course libation inevitably leads to reflection, and that could only ever mean the ‘Plan’. Ackland seemed curiously serene as he munched on his bap, as if the refrain of John "Hannibal" Smith loving it ‘when a plan comes together’ was running on a perpetual loop through that mercurial cricketing brain. Perhaps there really was a wealth of unrecognised and untapped cricketing genius sat before us? Then again, it was equally plausible to put the victory down to Ackland’s ‘lucky Greggs pants’ so, on the balance of probability, possibly not. What was unquestionably true however was that victories as assured as this are as rare as Hen-Party weekends in Brigadoon, and perhaps that is where reflection must give way to the ultimate demands of posterity. Afterall, all had contributed, in true Bodley fashion, to a deserved victory, and that was something to be more than a little cheered by. And even, perhaps, Ackland had learned that batting is not just about being a ‘disrupter’, but rather more about the laws of physics. And so as the temporally and spiritually satiated Bodley contingent eased back into their designated chargers and headed back to Norwich via an assuredly ‘un-scenic’ route this time, all were content with a job well done, and with a refreshing sense of optimism for the coming challenges over the next two days. All that remained was to round the evening off with a few fine ales at The Eagle, whilst Ackland logged into SOLO and ordered up ‘Mark Thatcher’s Navigation Masterclass’, and the rather cryptic sounding ‘Geoff Boycott: A Complete & Utter A…B…C…’ which, one assumes, must surely be some sort of basic guide to literacy… Saturday was damn near perfect... The morning after the night before. As we get back from Saxlingham (the right one) quite late there isn’t time for too heavy a session on the Friday, plus the pub, the Eagle, isn’t exactly that appealing. Enough time though for a few pints and some relief to realise that even though Dom’s finger may well stop him playing any more games it doesn’t stop him doing the important stuff, like holding a pint glass. So bodies, both spiritual and physical, not too bad for the Saturday breakfast. Full English, both meat and non, while those with a more refined palate can and do opt for scrambled egg with smoked salmon. Plans discussed but the keen bird-spotters had heard that the wonderfully named and rare Bee Eater was to be seen in a quarry not too far from Saturday’s game so with cars loaded some of the team headed north, with the test match on the radio. Those not twittering pottered round Norwich. With not the best road network in the country it took a while to reach the location, and with no guarantee of seeing them even then there was a bit of trepidation at missing out on the chance to see such a beautifully rare bird but a reasonable crowd all looking in the same direction as we pulled into the car park gave hope, and sure enough, through the friendliness of those already there we were able to look through telescopes and binoculars and see what we’d come for. Birds of such colour and vibrancy were a joy to behold, even for the non-twitchers amongst us. From the quarry to the game, played against Stiffkey (pronounced Stuckley apparently, but no-one seemed to be sure) , a journey that took us through the seaside resort of Cromer and occasional views of the sea. A quick stop at a service station for lunch and then onto the game, which others will describe better than me. Thank you Stu, but that's just not true. Nevertheless, so far as I can remember it went a little something like this... skipper for the day, and Bodley's trump card, Young Dan Shaw, emphatically won the toss and opted to bat us into a winning position. Matthew and Phil opened the batting, Phil in destructive form lately, and Matthew having taken out a mortgage on the crease. As is now tradition, Phil was promptly run out, leaving Matthew to weigh anchor and steady what would prove to be a heavily listing ship (I knew that model of the Titanic at the B&B was prophetic). Shaw the Elder, Tim, and Gav all fell in fairly quick succession as the pitch did everything except propel the ball on it's way to the batter. The skipper threatened to go big but was prematurely undone by the pitch, Matthew fell just short of a half century, whilst Gareth set a record for a top edge reaching the boundary. At the innings end, Gareth had been joined by the spirit of cricket himself, Andrew Milner, to fall just short of pushing the score into three figures to leave Bodley on 98 from 30 overs. Exciting stuff. Never mind all that arsing around though, there was tea to be eaten and pubs to discuss. Eventually it was accepted by all that we'd have to field, trying to defend our middling score. Would 98 actually be a decent score here? The wicket was certainly challenging, but then the wicket is always challenging when we bat on it, regardless of where we are playing. Stiffkey set off carefully, but assuredly, with one opener especially comfortable, and the other soon out for only a few as Stuart auditioned for Most Ridiculous Thing We've Ever Seen On a Cricket Pitch - a tragi-comedy called 'Not Like That'. It's a tale of sporting prowess undone by a brainfart, but is now banned by the BBFC as it upsets grown men. Ask Stu down the pub if you want to know more. Anyway, it was out, so back to the action. Phil, bowling like a dream all season, got a nick to the keeper to get his first of the day, and then James found the edge to send the ball flying to slip, where it threatened to bang into the turf in front of a lurking Gav, only to be somehow pouched in those bucket hands as if consumed. Good catch that, might even make the highlights reel. Annoyingly, as we felt we might be getting on top of things at this point, the runs built, boundaries were hit, and the remaining opener serenely reached 50 and retired. Amongst all this Gav picked up two excellent wickets, only being denied a third as our slip cordon had momentarily forgotten what they were doing, who they were, and why they had left the house that morning. Stiffkey reached their target in the twenty second over for the loss of five wickets, a good effort by Bodley all told. Big thank you to our hosts for a great game in a beautiful part of the county. We hope to return! After the match there was time for a quick pint at the lovely Red Lion pub. Those from the opposition who turned up were as friendly off the pitch as on but it was sad to hear the same story as the night before, that of villages being taken over by second-homes or people with no interest in community, and the struggles that entailed trying to keep a cricket team going. Seems that incorporating youth into the set up in some way is the answer but how does that work for a team like the Gents? Goodbyes and handshakes, promises to come back in a few year’s time then back to the B+B. Gav leaves after us but gets home before, how does that work? Quick wash and then out again, to what was for me the highlight of the weekend, a visit to the famed Fat Cat pub. We came to the Fat Cat on our previous tour but sat outside on crappy pub tables on a concrete floor, this time we were in a corner inside all to ourselves and were able to go to the bar whenever a glass was empty and try out drinks from quite frankly ridiculous amount of choice. At least 40 different beers, over 10 different ciders all served in my idea of the perfect pub, loads of nooks and crannies, beer posters on the walls and plenty of things to see. I personally had a stout, an orange flavoured wheat beer, a kriek, a peach flavoured beer and a normal beer before moving onto some gorgeous rhubarb cider, heaven. On top of that they had a liberal approach to food so fish and chips and stuff from a local burger joint were ordered and brought back in. It’ll be no surprise to read that a number of us stayed as late as possible. Sunday was a fitting, bruising, glorious end.... Sunday morning saw the same crew at the breakfast table, with the welcome addition of Mr Milner, a bit bleary-eyed but not too bad considering. Rain around this morning so a walk into central Norwich. Memories of our last tour to the city ten years ago were of an ugly centre, with busy roads difficult to cross and no decent pubs. How wrong we were, once we got into the heart of the old part there was delight at every turn, nice little lanes full of interesting shops, pubs which looked like they would be worth a visit that evening and stalls set out selling wonderfully aromatic food and local produce. An early start to Sunday’s game meant we couldn’t hang around too long and by the time we were back at base the rain had turned steady, so a brief break to listen to what was beginning to sound like an exciting end to the third test and then off, to Marlingford, and the last game of the tour. We last played Marlingford a decade ago on the 2013 Norfolk tour. 2013’s match was a high scoring affair and memories soon resurfaced of the short boundary. Sunday’s tour match is always a challenge and Bodley’s players limbered up fresh from the previous evening’s exploits at the Fat Cat where Bodley legend Milner had been elected (or perhaps conscripted) to serve as Sunday’s captain. With the entire team desperately hoping to bat fast, Captain Milner promptly lost the toss and Bodley were asked to bowl. 40 overs on a sweaty Sunday afternoon beckoned. Dan Shaw and Phil Burnett were tossed the new ball by Milner and what followed has to be ranked as one of the best opening displays of bowling in the fabled history of Bodleian CC. Finding pace, bounce and swing, Dan was first to strike removing one of the openers lbw before Phil followed up with a terrific caught and bowled. Dan then claimed another with a sharp catch from Robinson. Dan claimed another bowled. Fantastic opening spell with Bodley seemingly on top. Robinson was then up first change and took another Marlingford wicket courtesy of Dan’s catch. However, Marlingford’s middle order rallied and fought back to wrestle back control. The Marlingford captain hitting 70 before being bowled by Dan. Further wickets fell for Burnet, Ackland Robinson and Busby. Marlingford closed on 230. Special mention must be go to Ackland for a fielding highlight. As a Marlingford batter drove a high shot down the ground, Ackland’s eye’s lit up. In his mind he pictured himself charging in from the boundary, diving Ben Stokesesque to claim a stunning catch. Unfortunately, what the rest of us saw was a man slowly falling to the ground, one hand outstretched as if we was trying to catch an apple falling off a table. At tea both teams gathered to enjoy the final moments of England’s run chase in the second Ashes test. Tea was a sumptuous affair of sandwiches and beer shandy with a birthday cake for one of the Marlingford team. With players suitably refreshed, thoughts turned to Marlingford’s total. A big chase but could Bodley do it? In a word, no. Neely and Robinson strode out to open. Robinson was soon back having played on which brought Jones to the crease. Neely fell caught behind and Jones soon fell suit before James Shaw was bowled. Burnet then bagged his third run out of the same before Philipson was caught on 5. Bodley were now 20 something for 5. An historic low score was beginning to become a feared reality. However, Dan Shaw entered and brought some resistance and with the aid of Milner and then Busby steered us past 42 (our lowest score) to huge cheers from the boundary. A highlight was a Busby pull shot for four which had the opposition wondering if Ricky Ponting was at the crease. Ponting can only dream of such a shot. With Milner and Dan departed, Ackland bookended the tour as it had begun being the final wicket to fall. Bodley were all out for 57. Positives were examined: a terrific fielding performance and superb bowling from Dan and Phil, and also relief that Friday night’s injured hero Dom had only needed to score for a short while. Some of the Marlingford lads gave us some recommendations for the Sunday night, a good curry house which was also close by what sounded like an fascinating pub (better than the Cat according to some). First though to the Belgian Monk, and an intriguing dip into the world of Belgian beer. You need a good while in a Belgian bar as all the beers are different and it’s hard to find a comparison between what you’d usually drink and what is on offer under a foreign name but I think we all had something tasty. Gavin was awarded the Andy MacKinnon Catch of the Tour for his grab the day before against Stiffkey, the first in what will be an annual award in memory of our dear friend. Then onto the curry. Usually with the curry the anticipation is whether Gareth will order anything other than a Butter Chicken. Now it seems we have to add to this whether he’ll order a proper drink or something that will embarrass the rest of the team. Anyway, butter chicken aside a few branched out, Gavin ordering his usual firey dish, Lamb Naga this time, your humble scribe had a veggie Madras but all attention was on Dave, who when he ordered his prawn dish was asked if he was sure by the concerned waiter. Dave of course is made of stern stuff, this is a man after-all who often uses his bollocks to field the ball, and brushed off all concerns, but surely even he was worried when he was screened off from everyone else and buckets of sand and fire extinguishers were placed next to him? All passed off ok, even though he did admit to a light sweat at some point. All in all an excellent meal, everyone happy and content with their lot, we fall out of the curry house and pretty much cross the road to the King’s Head. If this isn’t the second-best pub in Norwich after the Cat then Norwich must have some seriously good pubs, which means we definitely need to go back. The Head takes the Spartan approach to pub interior, and all the better for it I say. No music, tv, soft furnishings or frippery of any sort, plenty of corners and a front and back bar with interesting beers and a landlord happy to tell you about them, plus a list of about 20 or so Belgian beers, all interesting. While some got stuck into the musically named beers on tap (Two-tone stout seemed a popular choice) others made their way through as many of the Belgian beers as possible, which we managed with some success. Eventually all good things must come to an end, and with a severally hammered beer kitty finally empty we made our way back through the now fairly deserted streets of Norwich. Another poor night’s sleep, another breakfast and then home. An excellent tour – well done Gareth! – and thoughts turn to our 30th season and Cambridge in 2024. But Norwich, and the Cat and the Head, will call us back. Report by TP, MN, SA, GJ. If you've made it this far, dear reader, well done, very well done. I dare say it took longer than any of our innings on this tour! Exeter Tour 2022 - 8th-10th July - three games in three days... The events that play themselves out over the course of this report have their origins way back in 1997, when it was first decided to take the joy that is Bodley cricket on Tour. And although what follows must by necessity only dwell upon the events that unfolded during a long summer weekend in 2022, the current adventure is but the latest additional chapter in the encyclopaedia of Bodley cricket that has witnessed triumph and tragedy played out from Northumberland to Norfolk, and Cornwall to Cardiff, with a brief stop-off in Derbyshire somewhere in the middle. But rest assured, this is no work of history, and the reader will not be assailed by graphic descriptions of blood, spilled in a noble cause, or a calamitous run-out when victory seemed assured. Nor will there be pages and pages devoted to the tortured young batsman who betrayed the honour of his late father by refusing to walk when caught behind. And there definitely will be no deep exploration of the subconscious mind of the volatile opener who dreams of murder only to wake one morning to find himself dressed for play and grasping his bloodied bat. Finally, there will be no long passages of exquisite lyrical prose that lament the eclipse of the bucolic romanticism of cricket played within the parochial commonweal, when Lord of the Manor shared the sporting field and ideals with the Yeoman Farmer and village Blacksmith; or hackneyed reminiscences of the sound of leather on willow merging with the gentle tonal spiritualism of Stedman Triples and natures orchestra washing over the field of play; and it goes without saying that this is most certainly not the time or place for some sub-Shakespearean soliloquy that strives to disinter the verities of humanity and project them through the prism of modernity to discern where the spectrum of true spirituality casts its long shadow and so on and so on and so forth… Most certainly not, for this account, by its own unambitious terms of reference, must confine itself to the task in hand, namely to set out, as far as possible, a plausible narrative of Bodley’s exploits around Exeter in the fleeting, yet glorious summer of 2022. So without further ado, pour yourself a stiff drink, sit back, relax, and join us as we embark, yet again, on another Touring odyssey.[1] [1] Apologies, of course, to AG Macdonell. Friday - Newton Poppleford CC, 20 overs Scorecard - www.pitchero.com/clubs/bodleiancc/teams/255079/match-centre/0-5296866/scorecard And so to the realities of Touring Cricket. Bodley’s estimable President Ackland and Fixture Secretary-cum-Captain Jones had clearly burnt much midnight oil organising this years expedition, with a full schedule secured for the entire weekend. The traditional Friday evening 20 over thrash following the exodus from the Dreaming Spires has been something of a mixed-bag for Bodley over recent years. Long journeys combined with hastily consumed ‘protein rich’ fare washed down with some local ale is something of a tradition for those who manage to outpace the holiday crowd in their search for the sun. Whilst this is undoubtedly culturally enriching it does not however always contribute to lithe, punchy performances on the field of dreams. Those more seasoned tourists can well remember the crash and burn that played out on a wet evening in Filey, and coming such a distant second in an arse-kicking competition that it borders on masochism is not the most pleasant way to start any Tour. The grim possibility of such mis-matches is a persistent fear for those tasked to arrange Tour fixtures, and the previously touted ‘Venn Diagram of Equivalent Competence’ so much harder to gauge, as most fixtures will be against unknown opposition. That first sight of the opposition when approaching the ground is all-important therefore, as any obvious competence on display – especially by pristine, badged athletes – can unsettle the delicate sensibilities of Bodley veterans, who often have kit that is older than much of the opposition. Todays opposition were Newton Poppleford CC, blessed with a fine ground set in rolling West Country hills. They appeared to be an encouraging mix of youth and experience, and although the fears of a chronic mis-match are never far from the Bodley psyche, the early signs were not entirely discouraging. Under warm evening sun, Bodley won the toss and opted to bat; with a dry fast outfield it would be good to get a score on the board and try to contain the chase. Tour games often lend themselves to ‘tweaks’ in the general format and today was no exception, with a retirement on 25 and a maximum two overs per-player agreed. As long-standing followers of Bodley will well understand, such tweaks are not usually necessary to ensure that most, if not all, will get a bat, but cricket is the true home of ‘mixing it up’ these days, and so it was that the first Touring game for three years could finally get under way. In the absence of David Shackleton (who was still on his crusade to prove the worth of the Humanities via a lucrative grant funded study of North American Hummingbirds and poetry), Bodley reverted to yet another tried and tested opening partnership. Over the years the Matthew Neely – Phil Burnett combination has delivered a solid start to many an innings, and so with a general air of excitement and expectation the pair strode out to the middle. Newly married, Burnett has regained the care-free optimism of a young Hugh Grant which, in the event, may have been somewhat fortuitous as Manakkad bowled the delivery of his life which jagged in off a length to neatly clip the top of off-stump. It is hard to tell if this early blow struck Burnett or the Bodley contingent gathered on the boundary harder – what was clear is that Newton Poppleford were beginning to look like they may be another bloody Filey afterall, and that was a grim thought indeed. With this thought swirling on the boundary, James Shaw strode out to join Neely, and hopefully get Bodley back on track. As it happens all thoughts of another Filey-esque pounding proved unfounded; the rotation of bowlers didn’t allow for any sustained probing attack and both Neely and Shaw soon set about the bowling with gusto, each finding the boundary with some ease and alleviating any sense of disquiet on the boundary. Indeed, in short order Shaw had clocked up his initial haul of 25 runs and retired, with first-time tourist Dan Shaw taking his place at the crease. The runes continued to read well for Bodley as Shaw injected the pace of youth to events and was soon accumulating runs alongside Neely. Deep within the bowels of the Weston Library there is probably some alchemical tome that decrees that Bodley cricketing success must forever be fleeting lest some cosmic tear in the space-time continuum occur, and so it came to pass that Neely, having crafted a well struck 20, was well caught by Phillips whilst trying to up the pace. As Neely departed the field, the void was soon filled by old campaigner Stu Ackland, wielding the now legendary Excalibur ‘Biffa’; a bat with the balance and acoustics of a leaky pneumatic drill. The anticipation on the boundary to bear witness to one of those career-defining partnerships was high indeed, and the Shaw – Ackland partnership didn’t disappoint. It is often a fine line indeed between comedy and tragedy however, and true to the DNA of Bodley cricket this once again proved to be the case, with the sublime sight of Shaw smiting a six back over the bowler all too soon followed by the almost obligatory ‘mix-up’ which resulted in him being run out for a well struck 14. The premature departure of Shaw led to the recently invigorated and expansive Gareth Jones to take over at the crease, and before long his recent productive form was again in evidence as he found his range and the boundary with ease. Now partnerships are perhaps not quite as essential in the short form of the game but they do provide a degree of stability to an innings – the much vaunted ‘platform’ if you will – something that Bodley seems to lack on occasion, and so it came as a blow when Ackland was bowled for a useful 12 runs and the changing of the guard started anew. Next in was the thinking cricketer’s cricketer, Gavin Robinson, whose combination of heft and guile has been the undoing of many a seasoned player. With an outfield made for lusty blows it therefore came as more than a blow for Bodley when Robinson was undone by the faintest snick off Clay, which was well taken by the keeper after a promising start. With Tim Philipson now joining Jones out in the middle and the overs counting down, there were opportunities to capitalise on the often variable bowling attack and add to the runs that had been accumulating. It was an entirely characteristic lapse of concentration that put paid to such expectations however, with Philipson swinging on one line whilst the ball had decided on another entirely, and the grim sound of splaying stumps ended his brief sojourn at the crease and gave Clay his second wicket of the match. Hewett trooped out to replace the chuntering Philipson but alas all too briefly, as Pugs tempted him into a shot that was well held in the deep, depriving Bodley of some delightful Mike Webb-esque nurdling. With the seventh wicket down Bodley were indeed fortunate to have a legend at their disposal who could see the team home in these difficult circumstances. Step forward David Busby. Some say that his inhalation of book mould and desiccated Silverfish over the last 30 years has endowed him with the stamina of a toddler on Red Bull and the dextrous footwork of Darcey Bussell, and it is these singular talents that he brings to the crease and would now be required if Bodley were to set a competitive total. And the prospects did indeed look good, for Busby took his place at the crease alongside Jones who, after surviving a couple of early dropped chances, had set about scoring with his new-found gusto, and it was not long before he too reached his 25 and retired, with an impressive five boundaries in the bag. Jones’s retirement brought the veterans veteran Andrew Milner out to the middle, and again the sense of anticipation grew. Watching Milner smite the ball is rather like witnessing Methuselah being bullied by his older brother, and with his new post-Brexit English Oak knees Milner was a blur of silent, purposeful movement. Cruelly, after an impressive initial biff, this proved to be his undoing as Busby seemed not to sense his stealthy approach down the wicket, leaving Milner stranded and disappointingly run-out. The demise of the final regulation batter meant that James Shaw would now return for an encore before close of play, and productive it proved to be with the boundary quickly found. Alas, before any significant addition could be made to the score the innings drew to a close, with Shaw ending on a well hit 29 not out. As the players trooped back to the boundary it was difficult to tell if the runes were still favourable to Bodley. Some inconsistent (though generously Umpired) bowling had added a much needed 27 Extras to take the total to 144/8 but only time, and Newton Poppleford, would determine if this was indeed a competitive total. After a quick change round it was the turn of Bodley to take to the field for the first time of the Tour, with Neely and James Shaw opening the attack. As stated, the twenty-over format has often been a mixed-bag for Bodley, and although we had scored pretty well at over a run a ball, any sub-150 total will always be within reach of any big-hitting team. As such, it was important to contain the opening partnership before they settled and started to score, and with only 13 runs conceded over the first four-over spell things were looking positive. Robinson and Philipson were next up and the tight metronomic containment bowling of Shaw and Neely morphed into what could only be described as a somewhat ‘odd’ passage of play. The dismissal of Pugs for 6 – foxed by the flight of a Robinson special – brought T. Clay to the crease and things then started to get somewhat interesting. With Hext providing a productive cameo, Clay soon demonstrated that he was not exactly a ‘nurdler’, and embarked on the most brutally destructive spell of batting Bodley have rarely, if ever, experienced before, with his retirement score of 28 reached in a mere five shots, including four colossal sixes. The somewhat pedestrian bowling of Philipson was thankfully spared this onslaught, though that didn’t prevent his first over also being spanked for 12 runs. It was during Philipson’s second over that things took a decidedly odd turn. Now much time and attention has been devoted to the baleful and corrupting influence of gambling in sport, though even hard-nosed Far-Eastern betting syndicates would no doubt steer clear of Bodley cricket as even they are aware that you can only stretch credibility so far. And so it came to pass that whilst over number two added an additional 2 runs to his tally, it also implausibly bagged Philipson the wickets of Adey, Raistrick and Hartstra, with unthreatening balls driven hard into the safe hands of both Dan and James Shaw. And although the spectacle of a bowler on his knees pounding the ground in despair despite having somehow taken three wickets in an over is a somewhat unusual sight, it was, we like to think, entirely within the spirit of the Bodley brand of cricket. Milner and Ackland were next on the oche, and with Newton Poppleford on a promising 59 after eight overs, now was the time to return to that elusive containment bowling that had been so mercilessly and literally dispatched by Clay. Needless to say this pairing proved more than equal to the challenge, and it was not long before Bodley’s own mercurial spin-meister Milner had taken a couple of scalps, with opener Hext finally bowled after a fine knock of 23, and Philips also falling for a disappointing 7 runs. At the other end Ackland was providing sterling support, and the shuffle that gives him more than a passing resemblance to a young Anton Du Beke was proving to be to be more that up to the task in stalling the run chase. As any Bodley stalwart knows however, there is always a special little something tucked away in the locker that can always be relied upon to mar an otherwise inspired passage of play. The legendary ‘Ackland slower ball’ is one such spectacle that never fails to deliver for fans and batter alike. Usually signposted like a privy when the plagues in town, today proved to be no exception and the delivery was unceremoniously dispatched to the boundary by the batter who had more than sufficient time to thank the Cricketing Gods before the ball finally came within range. This madness notwithstanding, Bodley had chalked off another four overs whilst only conceding a further 21 runs, and once again the runes appeared to favour the tourists. The ‘singular’ spin of Busby and piercing pace of Burnett were next up, and hopes were high that containment would continue to be the order of the day and the game progressively closed down. On paper this was a guileful combination, with batters unable to reconcile the probing balls of speed merchant Burnett with the ‘natural variation’ and loft that Busby brings to deliveries; if nothing else batters would suffer from either bruised bodies or neck strain. Unfortunately Newton Poppleford had not read the script and once again feasted on the bowling like Mr Creosote in a Toby Carvery. The frustration for Bodley was the asymmetric nature of the assault, with 29 of the 32 runs conceded in the first two overs of the spell, with Burnett finishing with a fine maiden – the first since the opening over by Neeley in what seemed an age ago. At least the punishment was not all one-sided – although England had clubbed a six so far it cleared the entire ground and was deemed instantly lost, Busby managed to secure a couple more wickets with both England and Dalton skying shots to the deep that were skilfully held by Hewett and Burnett respectively. Much wisdom is expended by commentators and pundits alike on ‘batting deep’ and ‘wagging tails’, and the theory is understood even by Bodley, despite themselves adopting a style of play that has tended to err on the unconventional side ever since being reborn nearly 30 years ago. Being able to recognise a wagging tail and, moreover, stop it wagging is another thing entirely however and so into this fraught existential vacuum stepped the closing bowling partnership of Hewett and Dan Shaw, shining lights both of the Bodley Youth Academy. Newton Poppleford had clawed themselves back into the game, though with 113 on the board and the final bowling spell about to commence it was really too close to call. One of the joys[?] of the twenty-over format with retirements is the dark-art of what may be called either ‘gamesmanship’ or ‘taking one for the team’, and so it was that after some tight bowling by Hewett, number 11 K. Clay inexplicably wandered down the wicket and just kept walking to the Pavilion as Jones completed the stumping. With nine wickets down for 118, Bodley took stock of the situation as old nemesis T. Clay strode back out to the middle. With 27 needed for victory of only 18 balls perhaps the balance had tilted slightly in our favour, but the key would be to keep tonker Clay off strike if possible, and hope the Cricketing Gods were smiling on Bodley for once. And the omens were initially very promising. Blessed with youth, real pace and flowing locks, watching Dan Shaw bowl is rather like witnessing an opposition batter being assaulted by Shelley, and the tactic clearly seemed to be working, as he conceded a miserly four from his first over, leaving nearly two runs a ball required off the final twelve. An impossible ask surely? With Clay now on strike the theory would soon be tested however. With a somewhat ‘languid’ action possessed of an economy of effort that would make many an Oxford Undergraduate proud, Hewett was clearly up for the challenge and proceeded to bowl four straight ‘dots’, leaving 23 required off only eight balls, and Bodley beginning to dream if victory was now finally in sight. It was at this point that reality intruded, and in the stocky, destructive shape of that man Clay no less, with the final balls of the over casually dispatched over the distant boundary, bringing his tally to an impressive half-dozen sixes. With 11 now required off the final over, a rare Bye off the first ball brought Clay back on strike, and after surviving a drop on the boundary by Philipson he proceeded to knock the required runs off in boundaries, with two balls to spare, giving Newton Poppleford a hard fought victory by a single wicket. After the match both teams retired to local hostelry ‘The Cannon’ where hearty grub and excellent ale were an ideal end to a great game against welcoming and generous hosts. Of course, no Bodley game can pass without deep reflection and scrutiny, and todays encounter was no exception. To have come so near and yet fall just short was a bit of a blow, but despite the loss there was much to be positive about. Throughout, Bodley had been competitive and the spoils had gone to Newton Poppleford mainly due to the destructive batting of Clay, who faced a mere 14 ball, and scored 50 not-out off only 10 scoring shots; a truly herculean effort that hopefully Bodley will not experience again anytime soon. Bodley had managed to post a decent score and there were stand-out batting performances from both James and Dan Shaw, Neely, Jones and even Busby, which augured well for the games to come. On another positive note the bowling had also been tight with wickets taken regularly. This was also one of those rare occasions when Ackland did not add to his tally of Bodley LBW victims. All things considered therefore, perhaps the Cricketing Gods were proving to be not quite as capricious as we have come to expect, and it is little victories such as these that define the eternal quest that is Bodley cricket, which would face its next test against old friends Thorncombe the following day. Before such endeavours however there was just time to freshen up a little before hitting the bright lights of Exeter, or more precisely its finest Gin Palace the ‘Imperial’. Much of the Bodley contingent developed a taste for local brew ‘Darkness’, and only time would tell if it would prove to be a portentous choice indeed for the rest of the Tour. Click on images to enlarge... Saturday - Thorncombe CC, 35 overs Scorecard - www.pitchero.com/clubs/bodleiancc/teams/255079/match-centre/0-5235713/scorecard The morning after the night before. Most down to the first Telstar breakfast in reasonable order though it is noticeable that not everyone goes for the full English. Not too hot out. Thorncombe today, a fair drive from Exeter so the team settle for a gentle stroll round before setting off. Some go for the delights of the Exeter museum; stuffed dogs and strange hats a speciality, while others chose the docks for a touch of the naval life. Today's reporter wastes half an hour or so back at the Wetherpoons trying to find a lost phone before realising it was in his bed all along. The rest find a nice bit of shade next to a coffee van in front of the Cathedral, an imposing building set in a beautiful green which today hosts a craft fair and the promise (threat?) any minute of a bit of music and folk dancing. It is probably a fair reflection of the team that the setting doesn't so much bring to mind the beauty found in medieval cathedral building but the excellent Thai had last time we were here. As Thorncombe is going to be about an hours drive the plan is to meet up at 12.30 and set off then. Players slowly appear, most having taken advantage of a rather nice deli on the way back to the B+B. Cars are loaded (so much kit), tricky reversing manoeuvres are put in place and the team set out, in some sort of rough convoy. Exeter seems a bit of a nightmare place to drive around so thank God for Sat and Gav nav. We're following Andrew for part of the journey but leave the A30 before they do and are soon driving through the sort of country roads you rarely get in Oxfordshire. Then things get silly, narrow lanes with high banks, silent prayers that we don't come up against a tractor coming the other way. Finally we arrive. Playing Thorncombe seems to me to be the same as going on hol to the seaside. A long drive that makes you wonder if it is worth it and then when you get there it is worth it. You remember the view across the valley to the hills beyond from the clubhouse, and then the opposition turn up and familiar faces spill out of cars to be greeted warmly. We've played here a number of times now, with every game a classic that seems to go down to the last over. Would today prove the same? It's also hot, as it always seems to be when we play here. Skipper for the day is Dan, keeping alive the Shaw/Thorncombe tradition put in place by his Dad a number of years ago. Dan wins the toss, and we bat in the heat. In what must be a new opening partnership Andrew and Matthew stroll out and take guard. After a few lusty blows Andrew is caught for 15 but Matthew carries on, doing the ever valuable job of seeing off the accurate opening bowlers. Phil replaces Andrew, and is careful for a while as the bowling is still good, the opening bowler from the far end taking advantage of some movement off the pitch as well as getting some genuine swing as proving particularly difficult. And then, a switch is flicked. Who's to say what happened; tour freedom, deciding that with a wicket playing like this you might as well go for it as one may well have your name on it, or just the joy and contentment of a newly married man? Whatever, Phil starts swinging out in a very unBodley way, taking advantage of a short boundary towards the pavilion as 6s and 4s rain down off the Burnett bat. It's a wonderful knock, a true tour moment and what with a useful 27 from Matthew (an innings more important for soaking up some good bowling more than anything else), and typically forceful 41 from James and a late flourish with 21 from the skipper Bodleian have set a total of 207 off 35. Phil finished, perishing to another big hit, for a dominant 76. A very good score, surely enough? Thorncombe, as ever, put up a good tea, certainly one too tempting for some who have got to field for 35 overs in what is still a pretty hot day. Phil and Dan open, Phil going for a miserly 15 runs off his 4 overs, putting in a performance that puts him in contention for Man of the Tour. Dan picks up the first wicket, a caught behind, another snaffle for Matthew who is having a fine tour behind the stumps. Thorncombe have some fine batters though, and while they're in they stay up with the run rate. Looks like we're in for another thriller. Then some crucial wickets, Dom takes a catch off the first ball of your reporters second spell, Andrew clean bowls a bat who's just got to 50 and then crucially takes a marvellous catch at slip to dismiss one of their most explosive batters when he was on 16. Remember that amazing Ben Stokes catch when Stuart Broad skittled the Aussies at Trench Bridge, when the ball was behind him and he reached back and snaffled it? This was better. Gav floats one down, Ned takes a vicious swipe only to get a top edge going behind and away from first slip, Andrew reaches out, and out, and then the ball, which surly most of us thought had gone past, disappears into the Milner mitt. A marvellous, game-changing, moment. Thorncombe offer a brief fight back but can't handle the death bowling of Dave Busby and finish on 191. Another excellent game, played in memory of late skipper Nick, one of the nicest people you could ever hope to play against. A beer or two with the oppo, then back to base, another long ride driving into the bright and setting sun with seemingly all the insects in the World out in force. A brief wash and brush up back at the Telstar and onto our favourite Wetherpoons, curries and pizzas, beer, more beer and then at some point some Tequilla slammers before bed. The beginning of a sore throat to think about, but the end of another excellent day on tour. Sunday - Thorverton CC, 35 overs
Scorecard - www.pitchero.com/clubs/bodleiancc/teams/255079/match-centre/0-5235714/scorecard Day three of a tour is the day you least look forward to and the day you most look forward to. Least because it’s the last day, no more glory or camaraderie after this one, the last day of being utterly immersed in cricket from dawn till dusk. But most because it’s the third game in as many days and that alone is confirmation that you’re serious about this cricket lark, that you’ve really gone down the rabbit hole now, and can stare this game square in the face and yell c’mon, I’m a cricketing monster. Or a beer monster at least. But above all else day three is the day for that last push, for reflection, and for enjoyment regardless of result. And so Bodley limbered up, dusted themselves down, and after a stiff walk round Exeter and the premature departure of Somerset County Bar Fly of the Year Stu, packed into whichever cars had working air-con, and made for our final opposition, Thorverton CC. We were joined today by Arthur, who had signed up for the full day – curry, B&B and for today, the captaincy. Upon arrival at a very picturesque ground on the edge of the village we learned that Thorverton’s South African overseas player – due to play today – had decided to have the day off instead. Spirits were immediately lifted, as whilst we have our own South African player, he works at the University rather than travelling the world scoring runs, and in fact went to the wrong postcode on his eventual way to the ground this morning. On the other hand he scored 76 yesterday and bowls with flair, some venom, and a little dash, so we’ll take him every time. The format was agreed – 35 overs, 7 overs per bowler, no retirement, and having won the toss Bodley were batting first under glorious sunshine and a gentle breeze. In the spirit of Bazball a new opening partnership was sent out for Bodley, Gav and Tim forming an irresistible threat to anything and anyone on the leg side boundary. Thorverton fielded a mixed team of young colts, promising under-19s and some more seasoned senior players - a great mix and from the start our worries about this being a bit of a mismatch were dispelled as our hosts made a real game of it by giving everyone a fair go but playing hard nevertheless, can’t ask for more than that. After half a dozen watchful overs Gav and Tim decided enough was enough and got their golf clubs out. After ten overs the score had rocketed to 71-0 in a haze of lofted fours and we were absolutely motoring, a quite fantastic opening stand with both these two striking the ball sweetly. Change bowlers were introduced and the rate brought back under a modicum of control but before you could yell ‘four!’ Gav had fallen lbw for a hugely entertaining and well-constructed 37, bringing Arthur to the crease. Meanwhile at the other end and dusting himself off from several close inspections of the pitch Tim soon fell to the same bowler for a similarly brilliant 39 as he was caught on the boundary. Bodley’s best opening stand in years left the stage too soon but will be remembered for a long time to come. Fresh from Saturday’s high-scoring heroics Phil was now with Arthur at the crease, but sadly Arthur was then soon back in the pavilion having knicked one to the keeper. This brought Gareth to the crease, a place above the eager Matthew due to his being nearer the skipper when the batting order was settled. That mattered not as Phil was unceremoniously bowled soon after, to the great disappointment of the attendant masses. With the bowling getting alarmingly faster by the over, and a conveyor belt of tall, under 19 quicks appearing from the outfield, Gareth and Matthew battled through the next half hour or so mixing survival with attack and in Gareth’s case, wearing the ball as often as hitting it. Just as these two seemed to be weathering the storm Thorverton's lethal Somerset 19 bowler George knocked Gareth’s middle stump clean on its arse to dismiss him for an obdurate 30. Whoever was next in had the extreme misfortune to have to face the same fired up bowler and sure enough first ball the exact same delivery knocked middle stump flat back again and sent Dom back to the shade of the pavilion, bad luck if ever there was any. To top it all off Matthew was run out shorty after by the same assassin for an elegant and hugely useful 36 by a direct hit from the boundary, which frankly, you just had to admire the skill of, even if it was a skill we would rather not have been on the end of. The demise of the Sunday middle order only brought the Shaws, young and younger, to the crease though. Dan and James took it to the bowlers and Dan in particular found his range, smashing a marvellous 36 only to be out last ball of the innings. Bodley ended up on a competitive – and we think a highest score for us – 242-8 from 35 overs. Extras scored a few, admittedly, but they all count. All that running and concentrating out the way, the serious stuff could now be tackled. Tea. As the call to tuck in was heard from the clubhouse tired players trooped in to be met with a veritable smorgasbord of delights. Sandwiches, cakes, cakes, more cakes, biscuits, crisps, fruits, sausage rolls, and scones. Endless cream covered scones (cream, then jam) and tea. Unless you’ve played cricket in baking sun for several hours and generally pushed your middle-aged body further than it would prefer you to, it is hard to explain the thrill of a good tea. We’ve been lucky this tour to be well fed by all of our hosts and this final foray into ignoring the advice about eating before exercise was rapturously received and enjoyed by all. If only we could bat again, Andrew was heard to mutter, then we could have even more tea. Regardless, we had a match to win. Hopefully. Surely 242 was defendable? Even against younger, fitter players who did things like coaching and practice. Yes, we could defend this we all agreed. Not necessarily by taking wickets, but by restricting the run rate. So, to battle, one final time. Thorverton were going to run hard and hit the ball harder, and we simply had to stop that ball getting to the boundary very often. Opening the bowling for the Bod were James and Dan Shaw, and a miserly start was achieved with the rate staying around 2 or 3 an over for the first tentative engagements of the second innings. A few boundaries started creeping through – very short on the side by the road, in case you don’t know Thorverton – but generally we were fielding like absolute demons and bowling brilliantly, as if this was day one not day three of a tour. In the fifth over the pressure told and James took a well-deserved wicket as Arthur took a fine catch to see of the number 1 batter for 12. You don’t need me to tell you, dear reader, that a wicket does not in fact bring two, it generally brings another batter to the crease, keen to score and full of beans (or scones in this case). The Thorverton number three settled in, skipper Arthur expertly marshalled his bowlers and field (it really was excellent, top skippering) but the rate was just about managed by the home team, and before long the other opener had retired of his own accord (scones) for a classy 53. David and Gav bowled very well indeed and kept the rate down again, and just as Phil was being reminded of that short boundary he struck with a terrific wicket, James taking the catch and another one seen off, for a well-made 55. At the crease for Thorverton now were experience and wisdom at one end, and our friend (actually was the nicest young man you could hope to meet) George, the fast-bowler/dead-eye fielder, and they were settling in for the long haul. Fours were struck with increasingly regularity as fielders tired and the target grew nearer, dropping below a hundred and the rate below 10 an over. The pace was taken off the ball, with Arthur and Andrew pairing up try to spin our way to victory. Still the runs came and the gaps were found. Despite the ballooning Thorverton score it was all terribly exciting, and a wonderful way to climax the tour, even though we deep down hoped our generous hosts would crumble in a heap suddenly. Matthew came out from behind the stumps to bowl a marvellous lone over for 2 runs whilst James likewise kept things tight and tasty. As the final over dawned, and after some quite brilliant fielding from the whole team, 16 was needed to win, 15 to draw. In charged Bodley, the whole team working as one to defend the total against the well set batters. A couple of twos was a good start, very good. Almost everyone was back on the ropes now, but still a four crept over, 8 needed from three. A single was rapturously but nervously applauded, and Bodley settled back into defensive positions. Four! Bloody hell, another one creeps through, though it was struck tremendously well. 3 needed from the last ball, what a thriller! As the sun dipped towards the tree line and aching bodies bent their backs for one last chase, the batter rocked back, swung his bat in a well-practised arc from off to leg and pulled the ball to the midwicket boundary, exactly between two converging fielders on that short boundary. Four! Thorverton win by two runs. Very, very well played, all. It was hard not be a little downcast at the loss, but even harder to be downcast for long, as it had been such a glorious match at the end of such a memorable tour. Hands were shook, kind words spoken by all, and both teams settled down for a few deserved drinks and the rest of those cakes. At the end of any tour there is reflection, celebration, and an almighty bit of sitting down. And so it was on a balmy evening in the Devon countryside with our friendly conquerors. We could not have asked for better or kinder hosts, today and for the two days previously. When you add in the perfect weather we really have been lucky and all involved enjoyed a thrilling festival of cricket. My goodness we’ve missed this. Toasts were made to our absent mascot Stuart, and to his good health and slower balls. The traditional Player of the Tour award went, appropriately, to a stalwart of Bodleian cricket, a player whose endeavours and escapades are the stuff of legend, a lover of lunch, a camping chair connoisseur, and the man who almost single handedly turned Saturdays game with a stunning slip catch and clean bowled shortly after …Andrew Milner. Soon to retire from Company service to devote more time to cricket and lunches, we look forward to many more years of Andrew’s indomitable will to win. Special mentions have to go to everyone though – to Phil for his first (buccaneering) half-century; to Gav and Tim for that bludgeoning opening stand and Tim’s quick three wickets on Friday; to David Busby for three thrilling wickets for almost no runs; to Stu for working very hard indeed on his beer monstering, and for leading us so well as skipper-even-if-he’s-not-skipper; to Dan for making such a great tourist on his first trip with us, well captained, well played; to Dom for being our leading tour wicket-taker with four, including that ripping leg break on Saturday; to Gareth for surviving the unconventional tactic of using your thighs to bat against fast bowling; to Matthew for opening almost every day and helping Phil to that big score by facing the threat at the other end!; to James for finding your mojo again with the bat to the great delight of all your team mates, we do love your batting James; and to Arthur for coming all the way from Bristol to join us for Sunday, we hope you enjoyed it. So ends another fine tour, and if you’ve managed to read this far you probably feel like you were there, not least because it’s taken your three days to do so. Thank you for reading, for playing, for watching, and for being part of Bodley cricket. Roll on next year’s tour – the East Anglian seaside has been mentioned... TP, SA, GJ.
Another year, another glorious Summer, and another Bodley tour, our seventeenth in twenty three years of playing. After last year’s flirtation with league cricket in Yorkshire the team this year visited Devon and Dorset, basing ourselves in Exeter for three nights of cricketing excellence. But the best laid plans... With our usual Friday evening twenty over game being cancelled late in the day Bodley set off with somewhat conflicting ideas of what constitutes a sensible departure time, subsequently arriving steadily through the evening. The first party made excellent time (to their later regret) and explored (...indulged) Exeter’s many inns, whilst the following groups arrived rather later for an emotional reunion before all headed off for a late night curry. Having done our best to prepare as inappropriately as possible for the forty over game the next day we all headed to bed in agreement that a Friday night game is a must next year.
Saturday morning brought the opportunity to wander round Exeter, and with a Lions match on offer some of the team skipped breakfast to watch that momentous victory, whilst others visited historical points of interest and middle-class cafes. As you will doubtless be aware our library’s founder was born in Exeter, and the spot was soon located, complete with blue plaque and mural commemorating the great event. Reconvening, the team headed off for the village of Thorncombe in North Dorset. Thorncombe Flyers CC are a team we’ve played three times before – twice on our Somerset tour of 2014 and again when they visited Oxford on their own tour. Bodley’s James Shaw has known the side for many years, and all consider them friends after the cracking games played between us – a bond that we will always be happy to maintain for so long as both teams play. New tourist, treasurer, and skipper for the day Phil Bennett won the toss and before we could claim Phil’s ineligibility to play in the hope of a different, more shaded outcome, we were fielding. It was a buggering hot day and as half the team made for the shade of nearby trees the skipper pointed out that said trees were in fact beyond the boundary, and all promptly took up proper positions. The openers started tentatively and we felt that with a strong bowling attack we might finally win a game here, having lost twice on previous visits. This first wicket finally fell but this only brought about a dispiriting demonstration of hard hitting from Thorncombe’s tallest batsman at one end, and Thorncombe's chattiest batsman at the other. Our catching was giving the oppo more lives than the proverbial cat and it took bucket hands Robinson to finally break the partnership with a relatively sensational caught and bowled. A succession of low scores followed with Gav, Shackleton, Tim and James all in the wickets, but the powerful Thorncombe number three kept clearing the ropes throughout. After forty overs a total of 178-9 was a pretty pleasing sight on the scoreboard. Tired bodies retired to the shade of the splendid clubhouse for a delicious tea and a debrief on those catches. After very little debriefing but plenty of cake, we head back out, with a promising new opening pair of Webb and the evergreen Ackland. Things start well but Stu is soon out, bringing James in to join the classy Webb. A promising innings (a future opener perhaps...) is cut short and Shackleton joins James, building a decent score until an lbw sees James off and Neely joins his opening partner for an unusual middle order innings. These two are soon into their familiar routine only to be parted when Neely is well caught, leaving the score on 83-5 from 19 after a valuable 39 run partnership. Robinson then Philipson join Shackleton and the score ticks along, before the skipper comes in and sets about stopping a wobble as Bodley pass 100. Phil takes the commendable decision to simply give David the strike, and whilst he scores a modest seven, David ploughs on, driving, hooking and cutting his way towards a ton and hopefully a Bodley win. Phil is eventually out having built a 71 run partnership to take us up to 166-7 in the thirty fifth, and all looks serene. But then in a turn of events no-one - least of all next bat Busby - could foresee. In a freak occurrence David invites a huge fine from his teammates by playing an uncharacteristic cross-bat shot to be bowled for a superb 89. The score is 167-8 with three and a bit overs left and suddenly everyone is very nervous. Busby joins Jones and it’s twelve to win. A single from the rest of the over leaves eleven needed from three. Next over goes for a miserly three, then the penultimate over for an even less welcome two. So it comes down to the final over, Bodley needing six to win. Dot ball as Jones finds the field. Then the second ball is handsomely driven through the covers for four and Bodley breath a little easier. After another dot ball Jones pushes into the covers but only manages a single. Scores are tied, one to win. Busby lines up the shot, Jones backing up and on one leg thanks to a complete lack of stretches pre-match, but it’s a dot ball! A plan is hatched by the batters, and then finally the final ball is bowled. It’s full, straight and with plenty of flight, beating Dave and going through to the keeper as he hares off down the other end. Jones sprints but the bails are off and the run goes begging. A draw, and a bloody exciting one to boot. It's been a super game, with the result being a fair one for both teams, neither deserving to lose after similar innings with the bat and mixed fortunes with the ball. Well played everyone. After a drive through the picturesque countryside of Dorset, Devon and Somerset the team change into civvies and convene for a night out. It’s getting late and all are more hungry than thirsty, so food is sought. Having enjoyed a curry last night (spicy for some, buttery for others) the party were keen for a change and promptly found a delightful Thai restaurant in the shadow of Exeter’s ornate Cathedral. After much negotiation involving representatives from Thailand, England, Yorkshire, South Africa, and Ireland, we were finally offered our own private boudoir – that really is the only work to describe it - where were cosily seated until two of the party (answers on a postcard) decided to take a table for two in a corner. A hefty fine was levied in their absence. The food was excellent, even if the owner came from a strangely Irish sounding region of Thailand. Satisfied with the day and full of prawn crackers, most of the party retired for the night, with a few hardy souls continuing on to a ridiculously grandiose Weatherspoons housed in a former Edwardian Orangery to discuss tactics for tomorrow. Sunday. Often the best day of the tour, despite the inevitable creaks and groans suffered on the third day. Saturday night is usually a bit more laid-back than Friday night, so Sunday morning is usually easier on the body and soul than Saturday. First fry up of the tour for two of us as well, after rugby-watching the morning before. Having now done away with the once obligatory game of pitch and putt the sea beckoned, and a convoy of cars set off for the train lovers paradise of Dawlish. While most walked around one tourist shuffled off and had a swim, much to the disdain of local fishermen. Ice creams, rolls and pasties were enthusiastically bought before getting back in the cars to travel just north of Exeter for the game, against Broadclyst CC. A lot was expected of the game, after all Broadclyst film their matches and post the highlights on youtube so Bodley were hopeful of a game on a beautiful ground against what seemed to be opposition similar to ourselves, in age, ability and attitude. Turning up it was soon apparent that the ground part was right, a stunning location on the edge of a National Trust country estate, though the clips on youtube hadn’t shown the slope going across the pitch, but age possibly wasn’t. Hearts sank as a group of youngsters were having energetic catching and batting practise in the outfield. Against this though was the warm welcome from the oppo, and the site of quite a few in whites of a similar vintage to the Bods. Gareth is today’s skipper, the weather is hot and having won the toss we bat first. Matthew and Phil open. The bowling is amongst the fastest faced for many a year and both do sterling work digging in (to the delight of the skipper) and scoring where possible. Phil is unluckily run-out then Matthew is cleaned bowled bringing David Shackleton in to partner Gav. Bowling remains tight and some in the Bod ranks fear a tonking - after yesterday’s heroics would we even make 100? Gav caught chasing a rare wide one brings James out, and both get the shovels out before starting to take the attack to the oppo, who are soon forced into bowling changes. More pace but less accuracy and the score starts to build, we get past 100 and both are now playing some gorgeous shots, a straight spank back past the bowler from James particularly memorable. Another bowling change allows both batsmen to really open up, and despite the heat both are running between the wickets well. One thing that the skipper wanted to do was to pass yesterday’s total, a seemingly impossible task earlier but now achieved with ease. David hits a six off a beamer, James retires with a few overs left to give others a go and Tim and then Andy Mac join in the fun. We’re playing a timed game so the innings stops at 4.30 for tea with David 2 runs short of a maiden Bodley ton, which would have been much deserved. As it is he is fined for failing to make the big score, and rightly apologises to upset teammates. An excellent effort considering the bowling faced and some of the fielding, Bodley finish on 217. Tea follows, a feast for eye and mouth. Scones, cake, mini Yorkshire puddings with beef, dainty sandwiches and glazed sausages all greet the team as we tuck in and settle down for what is unanimously agreed to be the best tea we’ve had. Which is all very well but gradually the decision to bat first and avoid the heat is regretted, especially by the skipper, who with the extra brownie doesn’t lead by example. Broadclyst to bat, with their opening bowler now opening the batting. After tucking into tea he tucks into the opening bowlers. Stu, who has managed to temporarily dispense with the shuffle but is now even slower, is tonked all over, including a straight six but then gets his man, with Matthew taking a sharp catch behind the stumps, something which is repeated a few overs later when the same combination account for another Broadclyst bat. New batsmen find it hard to score, Phil bowls well from the other end, and then when Gavin and Tim are first change the runs remain elusive. Gav, as is his want, takes some wickets and hopes begin to form in Bodley minds, we’ve got this, until we remember it’s a timed game, it’s not a case of stopping them scoring , it’s a case of getting them all out. But wickets carry on falling, and then the skipper has a moment of pure genius. ‘Dave, next over this end…’ There are t-shirts available of the Aussie innings at Trent Bridge last Ashes - James has one (and so does Dave now - Ed). First ball, fielders flagging under the heat, Dave whirls in ...bowls him! Brilliant stuff, inspired. Next up a Braodclyst young buck comes out, confident and bristling with youthful intent. The first three balls faced are leg-side wides which he ignores (no doubt something he deeply regrets now) the fourth is straight and high, he waits for the lift as it pitches on a good length ...which never comes and he is clean bowled under the bat. The look of disbelief at the umpire - surely that didn't just happen? - is priceless, as is the epic disbelief back in the pavilion. For him cricket is a cruel game but for Dave and the team it is a fantastic moment, one of the best in the long history of the team. The over is captured in glorious Technicolor on a popular video sharing website, link at the foot of this report. With Broadclyst unlikely to get anywhere near our total the nature of the game changes, we need wickets to win. James and David S continue the excellent form with the bat by bowling well, Gav comes back on and we manage to pick up a couple, including a caught and bowled from the irrepressible Dave B, and the game ends with numerous slips, gullies and close fielders but to no avail, Broadclyst survive bringing to an end one of the best games played for a while, at the end of one of the best tours for a while. Drinks with the oppo after, and awards and fines. David S is Man of the Tour for two epic and game-changing innings, well deserved though special mention to Gav for some fine bowling in tough conditions and a wonderful slip catch the day before. Four of the party head home after the match, the rest head back to Exeter to finish off the tour. The Hourglass, this year’s ‘where the bloody hell is he taking us’ pub from Jones, serves up some lovely Timothy Taylor, a kebab shop is hit on the way to a night-cap at the Weatherspoons before bed, and then one last fry-up the next day and home. A great tour, well done everyone for taking part. Until next year... GJ, SA
The team would like to dedicate this year's tour, and our match at Thorncombe in particular, to their former skipper Ian 'flyer' Rowley, who sadly passed away last Winter.
The entire Bodley fielding innings (set to start on THAT over, with a link at the end for Bodley batting. Enjoy!
After a trip down the M5 to a quiet and peaceful Somerset market town in 2014 followed by a quick trip across country to Winchester and it's boutique accommodation last year it was decided that we really should push the boat out for this year's tour, it having been a long time since we've had the feeling at the start of the Friday game of being a long way from home. So, Scarborough this year. Concerns about the quality of the cricket we may face are put aside as the struggle to get three games organized takes over, in the end we have to settle for two, a Friday night game against Filey and a Sunday against the interestingly named Bitter and Twisted.
A fleet of cars leave Oxford in good time, and in good weather, and head north. As we advance up country Remain signs are soon replaced by Leave, a stark reminder of how much an island those who voted to stay in are in a general ocean of 'Up yours Delores'. When we finally get there the weather in Scarborough is fine, and from the street we're all in we can see the sea, perfect. Andy Downey, formally of this parish but now back living up north, meets us and we count our luck at the sun. This doesn't last long, pretty soon after we start the trip to the game the heavens open the rain hammers down, double speed wipers can hardly cope. To add to the comedy value the directions to the ground prove less than perfect, at one point leading us down a dead end to the sea resulting in everyone having reverse back up a narrow street in a downpour. The rain stops by the time we get to the ground, but surely we can't play after that? To their credit the oppo think otherwise. A great effort by some of the Filey players get a playable wicket ready in under an hour after the rain, and the game goes a head. It is soon apparent how wide the gulf is between the two teams, and it soon seems as if there are two games going on, with Bodley just playing to their ability while Filey, with an XI made up almost entirely of first team players, make a game of it by dumbing down as much as possible; their over-seas player, a friendly Aussie quick goes behind the stumps, right-hand bowlers bowl left-handed (and gets wickets) an so on. Filey thrash us, good naturedly, but it's obvious that Filey, and their supports, can't quite understand how we can be so bad at the game and there is little friendly chat during the game between the teams. We do though have a good drink after in the club house and while some of the team are a bit unhappy at such a one-sided match we're all glad to have got a game in, considering both the weather and the lack of a match tomorrow. Back to base, a drink and then a curry. We find a Thai/Indian and settle in, soon the cobras flow and orders for curries at both ends of the heat scale are made. I try and match Gavin, master blaster of the hotter items on the menu. He asks for a Jungle Curry, so do i. A steaming bowl arrives, heavily laden with chillies. Bloody hot, even with the chillies pushed to the side of the plate, feel pleased with myself at the end only to look up and see that Gav has finished his, chillies and all. A search for a late night pub proves fruitless and even the harden club goers turn down the chance to visit a dingy looking night-club on the way back, deciding that the dodgy entrance down a narrow alley more suited to knee-tremblers and unhygienic practises didn't look too inviting. Saturday is day of no cricket. The squad split into three groups, with one going to Whitby, one exploring Scarborough while the third; James, Gareth and I decide to do the coastal walk to Robin Hood's Bay. Loading up with crab sandwiches from the harbour shops and with Andrew Milner coming along until the next bus-stop, the group walk along the seemingly never-ending beach while happy families play on the sand. Andrew turns down a chance of one bus-stop after another, and soon we climb out of Scarborough and on to the path proper. 7 hours and 16 miles later we make it to Robin Hood's, knackered - despite an unscheduled rest stop at a National Trust tea room, against Gareth's grumpy advice not to stop walking - but well satisfied with our lot, Andrew in particular has put in a sterling effort in ignoring numerous chances to turn back and we all have a number of pints in the beautifully sited Bay Hotel before an interesting taxi journey back, a quick shower and meeting up with the rest of the team to discuss the day over plenty of beer and fish and chips. Who'd have thought that the local branch of Wetherspoons would have such a range of Belgian beers? Sunday is the type of day tours are made of. Yorkshire are playing at Scarborough and some of the team watch the morning session before journeying on to the ground of our opponents,the wonderfully named Bitter and Twisted. We can tell this is going to be our sort of match when they set out the rules. Retire at 50, pretty standard, and everyone bowls 4 overs, which certainly isn't. The bitters are a mixed bunch with some young and older players in their ranks and they score a respectable 180 off their 40, against a wide range of Bodley attack. The rule about bowling means that occasional as well as hardly ever get to turn their arms, resulting in welcome wickets for Gareth, Dave Busby and Andy Mac. Despite an excellent start from James and Tim Saunders and a bit of heroics towards the end the team fall short of the total but have had a great game. A drink with the oppo after, and a vote for the man of the tour (Andrew for his epic hike the day before, in which some of his team-mates reveal that he passed a few bus-stops without realising it and they didn't think it right to let him know this).It was interesting to watch the oppo while this was going on, with the younger players wondering what was going on while the older more experienced looking on with what i'd like to think of with some respect. Back to Scarborough. With a good tea we didn't need a meal straight away so looked for a pub that Gareth had read about. After a seeming never-ending journey we stop in front of a frankly unimpressive building, totally lacking in any sort of pub-like appearance. Glad we made the effort though, as inside was a treasure, with plenty of good beer on tap and a whole host of Belgian beers too. After a few we all got the munchies and went off in search of a take-away, bringing it back to the pub and leaving an ever growing pile of rice and noodles on the floor before venturing back inside to have more drinks. I can remember having a few conversations with some drunk locals at one point, accents made thicker by beer consumed and not understanding a word they say, before a brief chat about next year and then bed. A bloody good tour, sod the results. SA ...and a brief greatest hits from our weekend of defeat, enjoy! Bodley’s cricketers have recently just from their annual three day tour, enjoying three days of gorgeous weather, three games against friendly opposition, much curry and quite a few lovely local ales in Winchester. First up on Friday evening was a twenty over game against a team of Doctors from the local hospital. Bodley bat first and Tim Philipson (Reader Services) and Tim Saunders (friend of the team) scored well as others either flitted or flailed around them to give us a total that the opposition got close too but not past. Andy MacKinnon (OLIS, I think?) held on to his traditional sharp catch to turn the game in our favour whilst others bowled and fielded well (mostly, ahem) to see us kick off with a win, which hasn’t happened for a while. Drinks with the opposition were swiftly followed by a curry and then a few more drinks before bed. Saturday morning was spent discovering the joys of Winchester before setting off for the days match. The team were originally set to play a team from Newbury but they’d pulled out disastrously late leaving us without a fixture. A raft of emails were sent out to clubs asking for a game and, after a few days anxious wait Hawkley CC offer us a match and how glad we were that they did. Hawkley have the most beautiful of grounds, fielding on one side of the ground opens up a vista of gently sloping farm land topped by a heavily tree’d wood while turning around the village is laid out before you, gorgeous flint houses hidden amongst the trees and a fine church spire, with the elegant club pavilion directly in front. The game, played in sunshine throughout, is a timed match. Bodley, batting first, go through till 4.30, then tea is taken and the opposition then have a set time to either beat our total to win or, if that proves a step too far, at least not get out and get a draw. Our total is a good one, just creeping over 200 with a thumping driven four off the final ball of the innings from Gareth Jones (Special Collections), after James Shaw (Document Delivery) and David Shackleton (Reader Services) had both scored entertaining 50’s. Tight bowling from Bodley manage to keep the opposition in check, and the slow flighted deliveries of Andrew Milner (Official Papers) and Gavin Robinson (Facilities) manage to pick up some crucial wickets but unfortunately we couldn’t get enough, and the game ended a draw, which was probably the best result considering the excellent spirit in which the game had been played and the beautiful surroundings. A drink with the opposition and a finishing up of the tea left the rest of the evening free to have more drinks in one of Winchesters best pubs, the Black Boy, a labyrinth building full of little nooks and crannies and bizarre furniture (including a stuffed giraffe, neck and head only though) which the team explored to the full. Sundays game was played following a heavy downpour, which we liked to think affected the pitch and caused it to do unpredictable things. At least, we’d like the think that was the reason behind the team posting such a small total – only Stuart Ackland (Maps) and Andrew giving the bowlers any real trouble. The opposition were thus able to win with some ease, though it being the third day/game of the tour after a late night out physical ailments may have also played a part. Either way no-one covered themselves in a great deal of glory here, though Matthew Neely (SCWMSS) kept very tidily on a tough track and James took some nice early wickets. After a quick drink with the opposition in another lovely pub the team headed back to Winchester and, after one last curry during which next years destination was discussed (Whitby maybe, or South-West for the sea) the team departed, some to travel back to Oxford and some for a few more drinks and one last night before the journey home. For the record Man of the Tour was David Busby (Reader Services), for a memorable innings on Friday (a Bodley legend in the making), a peach of a ball on Sunday, and an iron will to find Winchester’s hidden gems. So a win, a draw and a loss – not too shabby and a result that bodes well for the rest of the season. SA,GJ |