Written by Alex Johnston
Throughout the day the heavens had made their feelings about this fixture abundantly clear. Nobody expected a ball to be bowled, let alone a full forty overs, but a late call was made to give it a go. Flies swarmed in biblical numbers, ominous clouds massed over the river and the weather was not for badgers. JLee, had apparently reached the same conclusion, abandoned his bike, and was running late accordingly. With the opposition probably feeling the same and at 6pm fielding a mere six, Captain Foord took one look at the skies and decided we needed to get a move on and let them bat first.
As if to validate every instinct, the teams on the adjacent pitch waded to their positions and retreated without facing a single ball. A full game, it was universally agreed, was not on the cards.
Yet the Badgers are not a side that surrenders to meteorological consnsus. Hash and Liam on a lovely debut descended upon the opposition raining down deliveries with the same lack of mercy as the clouds earlier in the day, taking two wickets apiece.
Captain Foord rotated his attack beautifully. Jacob's first spell was slightly expensive for him but fortunately his evil twin MJ materialised from somewhere and bowled two miserly overs to throttle the run rate back into respectability.
Then came Karl, and an expertly crafted over. Four dots in a row had the batsman wafting at clouds, increasingly lost by the bamboozlers dropping on a dime. The non-striker, unable to bear the indignity a moment longer, called his partner through for a sharp bye, reasoning apparently that he could do better himself. He could not. Setting himself up for the big swing, he picked out Liam at mid-on with the precision of a man who had been practising hitting straight to fielders for years.
Towards the end, Gibbs was the victim of a cruel prank. A swirling chance ballooned into the grey sky, and with the clouds descending and hailstones apparently en route, who among us could confidently distinguish a cricket ball from an incoming piece of ice? The ball, sadly, had other ideas, skidding forward for four. Madams, Karl and MJ kept things admirably tight through the middle overs, and the openers returned for the death with renewed menace, restricting the opposition to 111 for 6 from their twenty overs. Whether that was par was a question nobody could answer with confidence. The clouds, after all, had opinions of their own.
Robin started the chase like a man who had reviewed the meteorological situation and decided to treat it with complete contempt, immediately opening the floodgates and pelting runs to all corners of the ground. Josh had started promisingly when the skies intervened in the most terrifying way. A demon descended from the clouds onto the pitch. There is no other explanation. Eland pinged one in at somewhere north of 300mph, hit Josh flush on the pads, and the decision needed no umpire. Josh walked. The demon, apparently satisfied, announced he would return for one ball later should the situation demand it, and dissolved back into the dark skies.
This brought Jacques to the crease. Starting with an all-run four, taking advantage of the wet outfield, what followed was a brilliant 25 retired off 13 balls from a man who looked entirely untroubled by either the bowling or the apocalyptic backdrop.
Partnered by Robin, also retired in good time, and Foordy at the other end, 23 not out, the foundation was built and the target was looking increasingly small.
Jacques' retirement brought AJ to the middle, and naturally the demon felt this development warranted his return. He descended once more. Foordy, ever the helpful teammate, greeted him, “There is literally nothing you can do about this bowler.” AJ, to his credit, took this advice on board entirely, and was bowled for a golden duck. Lovely weather for it. The demon, job done, ascended to the heavens and was not seen again. Gibbsy arrived at the crease as the clouds and the target both started to shrink away. The final partnership was untroubled. A close run-out chance offered some late drama, but captain TG on a flying visit to umpire chose to keep his hand warm in his pocket. The required runs were ticked down by Gibbs and Foord with 8 wickets in hand and 7 overs to spare.
Not a full forty overs, as it turned out. Though on this occasion, the clouds had nothing to do with it.