Showing posts with label controversy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label controversy. Show all posts
Thursday, 14 May 2015
Wednesday, 17 September 2014
HHCC vs Ivinghoe & Pitstone
And so, like that, Hyde
Heath's 2014 season came to a close with a match almost completely
sullied by some of the worst behaviour I have ever witnessed on a
cricket field. You know that thing teachers always say – “It only
takes the actions of a few to ruin it for everybody” – well, this
was a case in point. We've played Ivinghoe & Pitstone for years,
and they're a great side. They play the game like us: hard but fair,
trying to win, but having a chat and a laugh at the same time. All,
that is, except for a few. Unfortunately, one of those few was the
opposition captain, and he behaved not like an adult, and certainly
not like the captain of a respected club like I&P, but like a
spoilt little infant who had lost his favourite rattle.
The irony is, as
Charlie pointed out afterwards, that rather than take his rattle
away, we had actually returned it to him. He took our largesse not
with gratitude but with the kind of attitude that sees fixtures get
dropped.
Anyway, enough rattle
metaphors: to the tale itself...
It began, as so often,
in farce, as by the scheduled starting time of 1pm Hyde Heath had
barely half a team. By 1.15, we had nine, and got started. Soon, the
oppo were in a pickle, with new boy Anees bowling beautifully (perfect
line, decent pace, a bit of bounce and some movement either way). I
made a very easy catch look very difficult (caught between my legs at
mid-off) before, much to everyone's amusement, Jez pitched up and
immediately snaffled a sharp chance at gulley off Anees. Only the ball
before, Capper was querying Charlie's decision to persist with not
only one gulley but two. Admittedly, it's the first catch I can
recall there since the glory days of James Aird.
Soon they were 12 for
3. So far so good.
And then it happened.
Luke ran into bowl,
delivered a knee-high full-toss, which their captain bunted back at
him to be safely pouched. We all converged on the bowler to
congratulate him. At that point, instead of walking back to the
pavilion, the batsman (their captain) appealed against the umpire,
crying in no uncertain terms that it ought to have been a no ball.
The square leg umpire disagreed, but nonetheless, the fellow umpiring
at the bowler's end decided, after concerted pressure from his
captain, that it was indeed a no ball. In the most spineless display
of umpiring you could wish to see, he held out his left arm. “No
ball,” he whispered meekly.
Understandable, we were
pretty irritated, but Charlie told us that if that was the umpire's
decision then we would get on with it. Rattle duly returned.
But that was not the
end of it, not by a long shot.
For the rest of the innings, every single time that a fielder made any kind of noise, the batsman, John-boy (as he seems to be known) decided to walk away to square leg and lean on his bat until absolute silence had descended. Ben counted that he did this no less than 43 times over the course of his innings (he eventually made 70 or 80). Assuming each delay used up around 30 seconds, that is 21½ minutes of their innings wasted. As you can imagine it was monumentally tedious for the fielding side, not to mention hypocritical: somehow, “John-boy” was only ever put off by Hyde Heath players (and the occasional plane or distant child). The sporadic din of garbled drivel coming from the his own side seemed not to affect him in the slightest.
For the rest of the innings, every single time that a fielder made any kind of noise, the batsman, John-boy (as he seems to be known) decided to walk away to square leg and lean on his bat until absolute silence had descended. Ben counted that he did this no less than 43 times over the course of his innings (he eventually made 70 or 80). Assuming each delay used up around 30 seconds, that is 21½ minutes of their innings wasted. As you can imagine it was monumentally tedious for the fielding side, not to mention hypocritical: somehow, “John-boy” was only ever put off by Hyde Heath players (and the occasional plane or distant child). The sporadic din of garbled drivel coming from the his own side seemed not to affect him in the slightest.
It was also counter-productive: we only ended up bowling 32 overs, and that was despite the fact that they didn't bring us any drinks at the half-way stage of their innings. Not that it really mattered: Uzi and I were both expensive (although I finally removed “John-boy” well stumped down the leg side by Capper) and Anees returned to finish things off with a six-wicket haul (including a beauty of a slower ball nicked to Dom at 1st slip). They were all out for 162.
And then the fun really
started.
After an excellent tea,
the Hyde Heath openers were ready for action. 10 minute early no
less. Understandably, “John-boy” was not keen for us to have the
extra batting time, but he even refused to allow us to move the clock
forwards in order to get on with the game. Instead we all stood and
waited for ten minutes, despite protestations from his own team.
Once things got under
way, there was time for yet another moment of petulance from
“John-boy”. I accidentally hit a drive from the nets onto the
field of play. “Sorry!” I shouted. He walked towards the ball,
picked it up, and chucked it into the trees.
Unsurprisingly, our
batsmen received a relentless barracking from this “John-boy”
stationed at 1st slip, and several of his cronies,
including the half-witted umpire who had caused the problem in the
first place. (Amusingly, this chap fielded down at fine leg for a
fair amount of their innings and we actually had a bit of a chat.
Much to my surprise, Jez even brought him a glass of squash –
thereby conclusively securing the moral high ground for the Heath. It
was only when in proximity to his captain that he behaved like an oaf
once more). Our umpires – Tim Barnsley, Richard Cousins, and
Charlie – were also relentlessly heckled. So much so that Richard
stepped in to tell their captain in no uncertain terms to keep his
mouth shut and stop questioning our umpires. Cue some fantastic
finger-waving antics, reminiscent of Shakoor Rana and Mike Gatting
all those years ago.
What is funny about
situations like this is watching fielding sides get their knickers in
a twist. When I came out to bat, they appealed for everything –
LBWS when I was halfway down the track and outside the line; caught,
when even their own fielders (one of the sane ones) admitted I hadn't
hit it – and then got increasingly outraged as none of these
ludicrous appeals were given out. It's unfair, they cry! What I&P
failed to realise is that Barnsley actually loves giving our players
out...
That said, Richard's
parting words at the drinks break were hardly likely to pacify
matters. And then he got in his car and drove off, leaving us to deal
with the aftermath. Thanks Richard!
Fortunately, by the
time my batting was needed, we were nearly home. Dom and Henry had
laid a solid platform against some high-class bowling and extremely
tight fielding. Henry fell clipping to midwicket, but Dom and
Shrimpie held firm amid the abuse and built a partnership to break
the back of the opposition's total. Dom eventually fell for a
well-composed 35, Uzi timed a few blows before getting himself out,
and I came in to steal a bit of glory at the end.
All the while, Shrimpie
was playing a blinder: impregnable in defence, decisive in attack –
his cover drives both elegant and forceful. But it was the mental
strength never to rise to the bait that marked this innings apart.
Not once did he lose his cool and attempt to whack a few statement
boundaries; he simply kept batting until the game was won – fairly
comfortably in the end. It was probably the best innings, given the
circumstances, that I can remember seeing at the Heath.
Afterwards, like adults, we shook hands with the opposition – all except one. The captain, “John-boy”, had already fled to the pavilion. Then, just as they were leaving the pub, he had the cheek to criticise our tea – despite admitting to having not eaten any of it. So not exactly a trustworthy witness then.
The worst/best thing is that the majority of his team were happy to have a drink and a chat in the pub afterwards: they knew he'd behaved disgracefully, and many apologised to us on his behalf.
If a Hyde Heath player ever behaved like that they would never play for us again. I'll be interested to see how Ivinghoe and Pitstone proceed.
Afterwards, like adults, we shook hands with the opposition – all except one. The captain, “John-boy”, had already fled to the pavilion. Then, just as they were leaving the pub, he had the cheek to criticise our tea – despite admitting to having not eaten any of it. So not exactly a trustworthy witness then.
The worst/best thing is that the majority of his team were happy to have a drink and a chat in the pub afterwards: they knew he'd behaved disgracefully, and many apologised to us on his behalf.
If a Hyde Heath player ever behaved like that they would never play for us again. I'll be interested to see how Ivinghoe and Pitstone proceed.
Monday, 3 August 2009
World Exclusive! The 26.5 yard pitch!
Thank God for the internet, huh? In times of yore, if one’s story was suppressed by mainstream media outlets, the options were pretty limited: you could print your own pamphlets (costly), wear a be-sloganed sandwich-board around London town (and risk being deemed a crackpot) or simply keep schtum. Well not any more!
Cricket Tragics have been in contact with a certain member of Hyde Heath cricket club who has had his story suppressed for nearly 3 years now. It was never published on the official HHCC website due to behind-the-scenes political double-dealings, but now, at last, the truth will out! Cricket Tragics spearheads the fight for freedom!
Reproduced below is the letter that has caused all the trouble.
Sir,
I would like to report what I believe is a first in the normally not-very-cutthroat world of village cricket.
Early this season, I turned out as is my wont for the village of Hyde Heath in a friendly match against the normally very friendly local village of Chartridge. We lost the toss and the opposition elected to bat on a track which our groundsman had covered with our newly-acquired plastic sheeting (aka “covers”) at 7.30 that morning, displaying a meteorological prescience which would have shamed Bill Fish.
It rained “halberds” as the French say until just before the scheduled start time of 2.00 but we were able to remove our covers and start play on time on a wicket which was dry and bouncy.
Being the first match of the season, there was a certain inevitability that our opening duo who are unplayable by mid-August, should display some rustiness, characterised by an apparent inability to land the ball in the batsman’s half of the wicket. This tactic, apparently intentional, elicited from the opposing batsmen a degree of aggression quite out of keeping with a so-called friendly match.
The bowlers continued to bowl very short, the batsmen repeatedly dispatched the ball to all corners of the lush early season outfield and the score was well into the 20s after only 15 minutes or so. Dissent began to grow in the Hyde Heath camp. Our captain was known to have imbibed injudiciously the previous evening, our 11th man’s fielding revealed that he had never visited a cricket field before, our keeper was taking the ball on the second bounce and our widely acclaimed team spirit was beginning to falter. Matters came to a head when 2nd slip, our self-appointed senior pro, provocatively challenged the captain to “get a grip of his bowlers”.
At this point your humble correspondent, having witnessed proceedings from the vantage point of first slip, reached a trial conclusion: the wicket was too long. Nature has blessed me with a natural one-yard stride and I was able to ascertain by dint of measured pacing that the pitch was not one, not even three but a full 4.5 yards longer than it should be, an excess in excess of 20%!
Imagine: a cold April day, an over-wintered bowler no longer in the first flush of youth seeking to build up to a full 63mph and finding that he is unable to land the ball anywhere near the opposing batsman and then discovering that our Chairman, an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist with apparent aspirations to be a pitch inspector, abetted by our normally competent groundsman, had conspired to create a Frankenstein monster of a pitch fully 26.5 yards long.
The bald facts of the case are that we re-measured the pitch, re-drew the creases, allowed the visitors the benefit of their good fortune and hung on for a draw. The deeper and alarming truth is that two teams of professed enthusiasts of the summer game plus two seasoned umpires failed to spot the travesty.
Is this an indictment of the falling standards which beset our society more widely; or was something more sinister at work, perhaps some form of mass hypnosis? Ball-tampering is one thing, but pitch-tampering! How would Darrell Hair have addressed such a threat? The longer-term ramifications are still unclear, but one feels that our beloved game is in peril. This matter is a long way from over.
20 September 2006
Name withheld by the editors of Cricket Tragics
Cricket Tragics have been in contact with a certain member of Hyde Heath cricket club who has had his story suppressed for nearly 3 years now. It was never published on the official HHCC website due to behind-the-scenes political double-dealings, but now, at last, the truth will out! Cricket Tragics spearheads the fight for freedom!
Reproduced below is the letter that has caused all the trouble.
Sir,
I would like to report what I believe is a first in the normally not-very-cutthroat world of village cricket.
Early this season, I turned out as is my wont for the village of Hyde Heath in a friendly match against the normally very friendly local village of Chartridge. We lost the toss and the opposition elected to bat on a track which our groundsman had covered with our newly-acquired plastic sheeting (aka “covers”) at 7.30 that morning, displaying a meteorological prescience which would have shamed Bill Fish.
It rained “halberds” as the French say until just before the scheduled start time of 2.00 but we were able to remove our covers and start play on time on a wicket which was dry and bouncy.
Being the first match of the season, there was a certain inevitability that our opening duo who are unplayable by mid-August, should display some rustiness, characterised by an apparent inability to land the ball in the batsman’s half of the wicket. This tactic, apparently intentional, elicited from the opposing batsmen a degree of aggression quite out of keeping with a so-called friendly match.
The bowlers continued to bowl very short, the batsmen repeatedly dispatched the ball to all corners of the lush early season outfield and the score was well into the 20s after only 15 minutes or so. Dissent began to grow in the Hyde Heath camp. Our captain was known to have imbibed injudiciously the previous evening, our 11th man’s fielding revealed that he had never visited a cricket field before, our keeper was taking the ball on the second bounce and our widely acclaimed team spirit was beginning to falter. Matters came to a head when 2nd slip, our self-appointed senior pro, provocatively challenged the captain to “get a grip of his bowlers”.
At this point your humble correspondent, having witnessed proceedings from the vantage point of first slip, reached a trial conclusion: the wicket was too long. Nature has blessed me with a natural one-yard stride and I was able to ascertain by dint of measured pacing that the pitch was not one, not even three but a full 4.5 yards longer than it should be, an excess in excess of 20%!
Imagine: a cold April day, an over-wintered bowler no longer in the first flush of youth seeking to build up to a full 63mph and finding that he is unable to land the ball anywhere near the opposing batsman and then discovering that our Chairman, an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist with apparent aspirations to be a pitch inspector, abetted by our normally competent groundsman, had conspired to create a Frankenstein monster of a pitch fully 26.5 yards long.
The bald facts of the case are that we re-measured the pitch, re-drew the creases, allowed the visitors the benefit of their good fortune and hung on for a draw. The deeper and alarming truth is that two teams of professed enthusiasts of the summer game plus two seasoned umpires failed to spot the travesty.
Is this an indictment of the falling standards which beset our society more widely; or was something more sinister at work, perhaps some form of mass hypnosis? Ball-tampering is one thing, but pitch-tampering! How would Darrell Hair have addressed such a threat? The longer-term ramifications are still unclear, but one feels that our beloved game is in peril. This matter is a long way from over.
20 September 2006
Name withheld by the editors of Cricket Tragics
Monday, 11 May 2009
HHCC vs The Lee
Well, what a cracking win that was. My second match as captain of Hyde Heath (our usual skipper Charlie Samuels was away watching football or something) and the match was a belter. The team I was presented with was distinctly below par – we were missing three first choice seamers, Atif’s bemusingly effective off-spin and our number 3 batsman James Shrimpton. Indeed, so light on bowling were we that I had to churn out 12 overs of increasingly lethargic leg-spin. Took a reasonably respectable 2 for 50 though.
The Lee were our worthy opponents and thanks to some solid batting at the top of the order they managed a reasonably intimidating 207. Despite our limitations in the bowling department we actually did pretty well. Tim Barnsley rolled back the years to take a couple of wickets and Jez (our only front-line medium pacer) overcame a mediocre start to take the crucial wicket of their main batsman, although it was via a pretty terrible LBW decision.
With the pitch playing hard and true there was always a chance we could get the runs, especially if we got off to a reasonable start. Henry Capper made 62 in an innings that alternated between glorious on-drives and fortuitous edges through the slips. Together with, first, the rotund Richard Cousins and then HHCC new boy Anouj, Capper put together a solid platform from which to launch.
Or not. When he top-edged a full-toss, Hyde Heath did what they do best, and wobbled. So out strode the skipper (that’s me!) to the crease. With about 100 needed off the final 20, run-rate was never really issue and Jez and I batted sensibly to bring the target ever closer. With only single figures needed to seal a famous victory came a moment of controversy, and one that could only happen in village cricket.
Their left-arm spinner delivered the ball. It was slow and loopy and inviting the drive. I missed it. Overbalancing slightly I left the crease before turning round to see that the keeper had dropped it. I rather lost interest and made no attempt to get back to the crease, instead going for a bit of a wander down the wicket. Their keeper eventually picked up the ball and whipped of the bails. Capper – the square leg umpire – had also neglected to stay alert and rightly said that he couldn’t give it out because he hadn’t been watching.
What to do? The oppo were maybe being unsporting and I was certainly within my rights to remain at the crease. But as skipper of the noble Heath I had to think of the glory of the club. With only 7 runs needed and 3 wickets surely the match was all but ours? Well, given that 9, 10 and 11 probably had a combined average of 5, we could easily have lost it. Weighing all this up, I’m pleased to say that I did the right thing: tucked my bat under my arm and trooped back to the pavilion. I clearly did right by the notoriously fickle gods of cricket, as two overs later, Jez launched one through the covers to seal a memorable victory.
The real winner then was cricket (and of course Hyde Heath).
Tom
The Lee were our worthy opponents and thanks to some solid batting at the top of the order they managed a reasonably intimidating 207. Despite our limitations in the bowling department we actually did pretty well. Tim Barnsley rolled back the years to take a couple of wickets and Jez (our only front-line medium pacer) overcame a mediocre start to take the crucial wicket of their main batsman, although it was via a pretty terrible LBW decision.
With the pitch playing hard and true there was always a chance we could get the runs, especially if we got off to a reasonable start. Henry Capper made 62 in an innings that alternated between glorious on-drives and fortuitous edges through the slips. Together with, first, the rotund Richard Cousins and then HHCC new boy Anouj, Capper put together a solid platform from which to launch.
Or not. When he top-edged a full-toss, Hyde Heath did what they do best, and wobbled. So out strode the skipper (that’s me!) to the crease. With about 100 needed off the final 20, run-rate was never really issue and Jez and I batted sensibly to bring the target ever closer. With only single figures needed to seal a famous victory came a moment of controversy, and one that could only happen in village cricket.
Their left-arm spinner delivered the ball. It was slow and loopy and inviting the drive. I missed it. Overbalancing slightly I left the crease before turning round to see that the keeper had dropped it. I rather lost interest and made no attempt to get back to the crease, instead going for a bit of a wander down the wicket. Their keeper eventually picked up the ball and whipped of the bails. Capper – the square leg umpire – had also neglected to stay alert and rightly said that he couldn’t give it out because he hadn’t been watching.
What to do? The oppo were maybe being unsporting and I was certainly within my rights to remain at the crease. But as skipper of the noble Heath I had to think of the glory of the club. With only 7 runs needed and 3 wickets surely the match was all but ours? Well, given that 9, 10 and 11 probably had a combined average of 5, we could easily have lost it. Weighing all this up, I’m pleased to say that I did the right thing: tucked my bat under my arm and trooped back to the pavilion. I clearly did right by the notoriously fickle gods of cricket, as two overs later, Jez launched one through the covers to seal a memorable victory.
The real winner then was cricket (and of course Hyde Heath).
Tom
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