Longipennis! • Bayshill Cricket Club

Colonel Mustard once more in disgustingly good rude health now reports from the colourful city of Bristol for the mighty Bays’ latest cricketorial outing. Resplendent in claret smoking jacket and black mirror-adorned, tasselled, smoking hat and with a ‘virtual-smoking’ Meercham, clutched in Jupitens Contractured clawed fingers he waxes lyrical…

Back in the old days, when the world map dripped (British Empire) red all over, every single Johnnie I knew, wore a sola topee sun helmet. Not through choice I hasten to add, but through a keen desire, to keep the destitute sholapith tree growers, of the Indian sub-continent in business. I’m pleased to report that today, all Bays cricketers of any note, are carrying on this fantastic tradition and are buying these hats like hot cakes (not that I like hot cakes).

Coming from wild, marshy, waterlogged areas, the trees, not the Bays players I hasten to add, are from the bean family, although some Bays players perchance, do appear to hail from a certain Mr. Bean’s family. But enough of this wild and uncalled for speculation and indeed talk of secondary-xylem material in hats, we must forthwith return to cricket!

‘Don’t you mean the salacot?’ I hear you, the knowledgeable reader cry indignantly. Well, perchance they are by crikey. I think you’re referring of course to the hats worn by the British Empire chappies, who all those years ago, called them ‘planters’ hats.’ Well you’re right, but I must say, dear reader, that you are being pretty nit-picking in your reading! You were probably thinking, ‘That silly sod’s also missing a good puggaree!’ Yes, that’s right, you little tinker, the cloth band that runs around the hat above the peak.

Now, my hat, I have to say, with its ball-shaped finial (I didn’t want a spike by all the gods – and I’m sure you know why) was originally virgin ivory-white, but I soon camouflaged the buggar and the rest of it by puggaree, with a strong dilution of Darjeeling from my finest ceramic long-spouted pot. Nobody wants to be a target, deliberately so or not. I mean, it would be like wearing a purple-sequinned jacket to bat in. It doesn’t bear wasting the little grey cells over. Better to take on the mantle of a tasselled wobbegong methinks and lie low, unseen. As I said, to the cricket. But before we go down the lane to Cricket Central, I must say that I’m somewhat tickled by the chaps and chapesses, who’ve thoroughly endorsed my direct and to the point reporting. It’s a great relief to know that discerning cricketing-readers (there are some, I promise you) don’t want any more intricate, William Morris wall-papery, verbose nonsense and prefer writing that is of a more puritanical, prosaic inclination. Well, dear reader you won’t get any waffle from old Moutarde here!

Why all the talk of such hats, I hear you ask? Well simple as always. The Bays are going on tour and the hat of choice is the pith helmet. Not so much choice really, more Hobson’s choice, a direct dictatorial order from the upper echelons of Bays House. Pip pip old boy!.

Now, the first and original inhabitants of Bristol and its environs were none other than the Neanderthals sometime in the Middle-Paleolithic. But before you start thinking I’m having a little dig at the city’s current residents, I certainly am not! No, dear reader, I have to say that on my last visit to the middle of Bristol, I saw but a few knuckles dragging on the floor and certainly no more than a dozen sloped-back foreheads and a no more than brace of thick-set jutting chins. It was about average for any modern city in the land of the Englishman today.

So to the cricket. Rumour has it that captain of the day, Alex Van Dyke won the toss and put his team into the field, on an afternoon when sun took his hat off in a heaven of borage baby-blue. It could well have been Perth, Bombay (yes I know it’s changed its name), Death Valley or even The Flaming Mountains in China, but it wasn’t. It was simply somewhere on the periphery of old Bristol and cricket was the fare.

Bristol CC made a solid start on the dusty track that played as well as any the Bays have bowled on this year. Tom Liley and Cueto bowled well and after their opening seven overs the score was just 29. M Love and Clayton Jones however, brought the score up to 79 before the first wicket, that of the latter, fell in the fifteenth over to Martin, caught well by MacLoed looking up into the sun. Paul Saunders in the meantime bowled a tight four overs for 24. Three overs later the other opener, Love was trudging back to the pavilion, clean bowled by MacLoed, who it must be said was bowling very accurately.

The very next over Stirrup had Shom caught by Tom Liley for just nine and the over after that, MacLoed was at it again, bowling Moss for a quacker. So involved was the life-time Hibs fan, that he failed to spot a large blue dragonfly that buzzed his sun-cream covered pate. Now it seems odd that this Longipennis the Blue Dasher dragonfly not Rod, (meaning long wings – what else dear reader, could it have been?) should have been there at all. Blue dragonflies as I’m sure you know, are only to be found in North America or the Bahamas. Perhaps this one, was a blue damsel fly or perchance a genuine Longipennis on the equivalent of an 18-30 holiday for Blue Dashers. Stirrup ignoring or winged friend, could have had a second wicket, but the caught behind, was ignored from the bowling end, much to the shagrin of the keeper and all fielders within earshot.

Lakhani kept scoring and finally retired having past his fifty. Jamie Liley (13) bowled three good overs for just 14, before Tom Liley returned to bowl Birhen now on 34. Bristol had climbed to 203 in the hot sunshine.

Under the Greene King umbrella, the Abbot was dispatched, and suddenly the Bays realised that the habitual three openers were all absent today. Very suspicious that they decide Bristol isn’t for them, but then who are we, but mere mortals to challenge such decisions. In the end, Bays did the decent thing and let the openers be the players Bristol had lent them for the game. Unfortunately Chris went for one, meaning Steve Liley came in at three. Not for long was he there, taking a four off his first ball, then dotting out three, before playing on in the tropical heat. Cueto came and went for a single. Martin left shortly after on 12 from 19, before the captain of the day, Alex Van Dyke made a quick fire 21 off 20, including four 4s.

Tom Liley looking to play himself in, made 12 off 24 (2 fours) and Rod MacLeod 4, before Paul Saunders made 8 off 30, in a partnership of 24 with Stirrup, with the game all but gone. Gene Sainty made 5, again with Fran Stirrup in a 20 partnership and Fran on the same number. Fran, then powered on with Jamie Liley at the other end, to between them have the highest partnership of the innings of 25. Jamie hit two singles, before being span out by Jacarny. Fran was left not out on 42, with six fours and a juicy big six that lost the matchball. This tenth wicket partnership is the third highest in Bayshill’s history, eclipsing by 4, Steve & Jamie Liley’s 10th wicket partnership of 21 against Travellers 15/8/21.

And so the Bays made 140 all out and dare I mention it, lost. It could have been a lot worse though and seemed it would be, when the scoreboard read 71/7.