The Voice

Golden Moments 2008 countdown 5-1...

2008-10-27T14:48:00.000-07:00

Number 5 - 'Where did I put my wallet?'

Date: Saturday August 16th
Opposition: Basildon and Pitsea

Starring: Damian Liston

Everybody realises that cricket is a vital part of the British way of life, many would say essential even. The only thing that could possibly supplant this at the top table of the 'most important things in life' is......alcohol. When these two come together to form one whole, the glory of what results warms the heart and cleanses the soul (as well as the contents of the stomach if the mix is too heavily in favour of the alcohol).

One of these most holy of unions took place on Friday the 15th August. A midweek game was occurring and a Leigh XI were trying bravely to fight their way out of trouble as several Leigh stalwarts began arriving to watch the battle. Drinks began to flow as the action continued, and as Matthew Wallace's team (being led that day by Robert Catchpole) sank lower into the quagmire of inevitable defeat the bar began to come to the fore. Soon drinks were flowing with regularity and the main protagonists - Knox, Elliott, Liston, Brown, Seal (D & J), Elliott and Freeman began enjoying the frivolity that comes when cricket and booze join hands.

The highlights of the evening was a Steve Elliott led discussion on the right way and the wrong way to tie your van to someone's house, and a highly dodgy game of pool between the aforementioned Elliott and a highly distracted Ed Freeman which ended in 'KD Lang' Freeman doing 3 laps of the pool table stark naked! (A video of this event is available from The Voice upon request)

As summer invariably turns to autumn, Magners invariably turns into Jaeger Bombs as so it came to pass that all staggered out of the club several shades after midnight to return to their homes for r & r before the Saturday fixtures.

The next morning dawn rose bright eyed and bushy tailed, with a 12 o'clock meet at Chalkwell Park for the second team and a trip away for the firsts. As 10 of the 11 players in the two's began to warm up gently before the game against Basildon, one member was conspicuous by his absence. Bar committee general and main warm up hitter Damian Liston was MIA. Queries over potential hangovers began to be questioned. Had he found his way home that night? Had Nic finally grown tired of his llllludicrous accent and left him on the doorstep? Had the dingo eaten our Damian? These questions were soon answered as upon returning to the changing room after practice, captain Pettitt elected to phone the Australian and request his prompt arrival. In Brian's hand as the phone dialled was the wallet of Listoff, who upon locking the club in the early morning had left his money behind the bar.

The phone rang.

After Liston answered, a curious conversation was half heard by the dressing room, which was later retold by Brian. The crux of the problem was that Liston had returned home after drinkies and promptly collapsed into a deep drunken sleep. Upon his waking, he had only a few hours until he needed to be at the park. After packing his kit up he then searched for his wallet for half an hour without any success. As he could not find said wallet, fear that he had lost it on the journey home suddenly invaded his mind, he moved decisively (very unlike his running between the wickets) and swiftly to cancel all of his credit and debit cards with the various banks he frequents. Involving long and no doubt costly calls to customer services departments as far a field as India, Sri Lanka and Croydon.

As Brian gleefully informed Damo of the actual position of his wallet the Aussie was said to be 'sick as a gallah'.

Number 4 - 'Let him taste the leather'

Date: Saturday June 21st
Opposition: Benfleet

Starring: Toby Giles and Robert Catchpole

Now everyone knows that there is nothing a 18-30 year old man loves more than a bit of blood and gore in his entertainment. Obviously if there should happen to be a scantily clad female in the area then its all the better. Alas in this moment the female was sadly lacking but the blood and gore were very much present.

It happened even before a ball had been bowled in anger in the match of the day. In fact only half a dozen of the Benfleet team had even arrived at Chalkwell Park when Brian had led his team onto the outfield for some vital warming up exercise. No doubt using the Denis philosophy that there is no more scary sight than turning up and seeing the other team already out on the field warming up. If Benfleet had been watching no doubt they would have been slightly put off not only by the sheer violence on show rather than any skill being displayed.

Rob Catchpole had returned to Leigh action and had been told to score some runs in the second team to re-establish his place in the ones. This had clearly gone down very well with the younger Pole who turned up looking as if someone had taken his toys away, piled them up and slowly driven a tank over them as he watched. The news that he would be stepping in at number 3 cheered the little fella up slightly but not more than that. Having been out of form thus far into the fairly new season, Rob was keen to get as much bat on ball as he possibly could before his important innings, even asking a few of the bowlers to give him some throw downs as the warm up came to a conclusion. Toby Giles jumped at this chance to test his bowling against a first team bat. Bowling just off the strip Rob was happy enough facing the left armer without too much padding on and the thought of getting the lid out had barely occurred to him. However such lack of safety precautions was to prove to be his undoing as Toby was hatching a devious plan. After noticing a bit of bounce in the uncut grass surface, Toby decided to go across the seam to give Rob a bit of a test. As he whipped his arm over the ball came out perfectly, ripping through the air striking the ground and getting just the right amount of bite to send it jagging up almost vertically before tearing through the fragile defence of the young man like a high velocity rifle bullet through a plate glass window. The ball smashed into his lower lip, leaving Rob recoiled in pain and bleeding furiously.

The sheer deviousness of the plan shocked many onlookers with Giles later quipping how he had wanted to 'get a bit of bounce' hence the change in grip. (The media have suggested that Giles might perhaps have been seeking revenge for Rob's arrival forcing him further down the batting order.)

Rob now with a fiercely split lip was forced to go behind the bar to apply ice to reduce not inconsiderate amount of swelling in his face. He also had to wash the taste of a conflict with Tobes 'The Tobeinator' Giles out of his mouth (insert John Maynard quote here). Rob batted bravely through the pain that day, giving sweat, tears and quite a lot of blood for the cause!

Number 3 - 'Where can you go for top notch therapy these days?'

Date: Saturday July 19th
Opposition: Old Southendians

Starring: Ben Giles

The biologist and philosopher Charles Darwin, the nurse Florence Nightingale, the billionaire aviator and entrepreneur Howard Hughes, the electrical engineer Nikola Tesla, the film director Woody Allen, the actress Jessica Alba and the England footballer David Beckham. What, I hear you cry, do these people have to do with Leigh cricket? Nothing obviously, but they all suffer from an illness. An illness which, according to the World Health Organisation, is one of the ten most disabling illness of any kind. An illness which www.ocduk.org classifies as a phenomenon of obsessional, repetitive, intrusive and unwelcome thoughts, images, impulses and doubts which they find hard to ignore. These thoughts form the obsessional part of 'Obsessive-Compulsive' and they usually (but not always) cause the person to perform repetitive compulsions in a vain attempt to relieve themselves of the obsessions and neutralise the all pervading fear.

Any quick scan through 'Nutters Quarterly' or similar publications on mental health will bring up studies such as this one. The patient here is a man in his early 30's known as - B.G. (initials used for anonymity)

Saturday 19th July:

Patient B.G. is today being assessed whilst in his social environment of exercise, away from any serious mental anguish (such as the doctor’s office with suspected bowel cancer, the local physiotherapy centre with imaginary buttock injuries or the frequently frequented GUM clinics)

Even in these relaxed surroundings, patient B.G. still displayed a very unhealthy level of compulsive behaviour. With first symptoms being a general inability to leave his car until all the mirrors were in the right spots. The patient then settled into his lower level state being able to run around and perform rudimentary motor functions without any obvious problems. However, more serious aspects of his personality came to the fore later in the day when he had to walk to the centre of the field and have a round projectile thrust at his person.

This appeared to affect the patient rather unexpectedly. The patient appeared to relapse into a preset combination of pad touches and slight manipulation of undergarments, moving methodically around his thigh region until after a moment or two he seemed to convince himself everything was ok and was ready to continue with the game.

Another feature of the illness appears to be making the patient believe that he can’t touch any of the painted white lines on the field in which he is exercising. The patient appears to hop very effeminately over said lines at what appears to be a mental inability to break one of them.

All in all there still seems to be a lot of work needed with patient B.G. lest we forget we still have the deeply disturbing undertones of him sleeping with 'momma'.

Number 2 - 'For the fans'

Date: Saturday August 16th
Opposition: Southend on Sea

Starring: (18 Handicap) Ryan Madder

With O/S's refusing steadfastly to chase a very reachable Leigh target, this first team game was drying out quicker than a jellyfish in a microwave. Heads were down, frustration was high and that was just in the 4 spectators that had mistakenly stopped to watch some 'action'. All they wanted was some entertainment.

This was until one man sought to change all that. Was it a big hitting batsman? No. Was it one of the bowlers destroying the middle order? No. Was it the captain, conjuring a wicket from nowhere? No. What changed the game was the appearance and intervention of a shambling drunken gentleman who just happened to be walking past.

The man (whose fellows inebriates can be seen on all park cricket fields at various stages of the summer) in fact entered the fray quite unexpectedly. Whilst trying to find the shortest route to whatever passed as his home, he cut straight across the outfield. This raised the standard sharp response from those on the field "Mate! Can you walk behind the white line?” This response was digested quickly by Mr Northerner who replied surprisingly quickly with 'Sorry, I only snort white lines'. This sharp and rather witty comeback stunned the cricketers into laughter which helped this increasingly solemn game. With a pat on the back, he was wished on his way in typical Leigh on Sea fashion, 'F... off c'head' was bellowed at the chap from the ever ready mouth of Mr Waller.

This was all of friendly nature with fellow quickly realising the weight disadvantage he would have if he sought conflict with Dean. He wandered on, across to the far boundary happy (and indeed as drunk) as Larry himself, decked wonderfully in what Ben Giles would describe as 'perfect lounging attire' - marble effect Bermuda shorts, white plastic fantastic trainers, no shirt and a can of Tennents.

As the man wandered on, all eyes returned to the dull game unfolding. Well I say all eyes, but that was not quite true. Ryan Madder had decided he wanted a piece of the slag off action and Rusty decided to get involved by re-delivered Dean's words of wisdom. The Northerner whilst being wary of the larger Dean had no reservations about fronting up to the short, ginger, Stanford-le-hoper, and suddenly a series of four letter word filled salvos began being fired back and forth between the two, who were by this time effectively mid on and mid wicket.

Seeking a trump card after another volley from Madder the man dropped his shorts bent over and showed Rusty where the sun doesn't shine suggesting the short fast bowler could 'Kiss my arse you f****** ginger ****'. The ginger mist descended and Madder was then fuming. From nowhere a friend of the mooning man appeared and bravely started trying to drag the drunkard from the field onto which he had now strayed. The man (now thinking he had a winnable fight here) informed Rusty that he had a personal relationship with Madder's mother. Rusty now wants to kill the guy and in turn had to also be forcibly restrained from doing so by his skipper, who sought peace by sending him to the furthest point away from the still snarling drunken gentleman. With the man's friend now applying the sleeper hold in an attempt to subdue him, he seemed to accept that he would not get to feel the Madman’s flesh beneath his knuckles but would not stop his mind game just yet, as he threw out a chilling final gambit that he would be following Madder home later that day and would see Ryan well before Ryan saw him. His inebriated state however, lead many observers to doubt his ability to effectively act out this SAS style attack.

Ryan does now check both ways before opening his door.

Now it’s the moment you've been waiting for, we have seen the 15-2 countdown and now we get to the winner of The Voice golden moment award 2008. There could really be only one man that could top this years chart, I am sure you have all guessed who it is so without further ado I give you...

Number 1 - 'Broken'

Date: Saturday July 19th
Opposition: Old Southendians

Starring: Dave Archer

Many have suggested that this year one man seemed almost destined to top this chart. From the very first game of the season Dave Archer has been on a solo mission to climb this peak and stand triumphant at the summit looking down on all the rest. His quest has finally bore fruit and this has been truly the year of the Archer.

Many new recruits to a cricket team look to bed themselves in by being quiet, unassuming, slowly building friendships until they feel at ease being themselves in front of a large and accepting audience. Dave however went about his work slightly differently. First league game of the season he was amazingly able to pick off 7 12 year old Chelmsford batsman and would proclaim this feat with the now immortal words "That’s a jug boys!!" Queue most of the team looking at each other thinking "who the f___ is this guy?"

Through the season he kept up the disturbing ability to make some of his team-mates think he was slightly deranged. His team-mates also started to affix other names to him, the one which stuck easiest was 'G.A.' which made up for its undoubted lack of subtlety with what can only be described as homophobia.

Along with all these small horror moments Dave has built up a reputation of Sibley-esque self confidence, Freeman-esque swing bowling and a Liston-esque fielding style. Dave has earned this top spot however due to just one moment this season. It arrived midway through a devastatingly dull fielding afternoon at Shoebury Park and with Dave straining every sinew in an attempt to prove his worth to the team he had left a few months before. His appealing had become even more shrill than normal and the sweat was beginning to form in earnest across his brow. The OS batsmen were however easing into their task and dealing with Archer will comparative ease although the scoring was still bone jarringly slow.

Midway through an over Dave ran in to the crease and delivered a pitched up ball that the batsman straight drove back firmly at the bowler. Halfway through his follow through and having been unable to cling onto a difficult chance off his own bowling earlier in the innings, Dave was eager to stop the ball and stooped manfully to stop the ball from going past him. He stretched out and got a finger on the ball to halt its momentum, then recoiled in pain like a man under attack from a Texas Rattlesnake. Archer (not wanting anyone to be unaware of his plight) yelled at the top of his voice (with reference to his injured digit) "Sh*t, that is broken, that is a broken finger, that is definitely broken" before moving to add "Den that is broken, f**k that is broken, that is definitely broken" his team mates displayed the normal lack of solidarity during times like these, struggling to maintain straight faces as Dave continued to hop around on the strip as if in the throws of a deadly fit. Many of the Leigh team were actually surprised that he had not said "Thhhhhhat’s a broken finger boys!"

The opposing team (of his former friends) found the whole affair extremely amusing with the umpire questioning whether Dave had become a doctor all of a sudden, due to the certainty with which he had self diagnosed the injury. Amazingly Dave regained his composure after a few minutes, and even more amazingly he finished the over (to the surprise of all, who assumed he would be taking a trip off to Southend hospital to have his supposedly shattered finger repaired, and to the disappointment of Liston who had already gone through a lengthy stretching process) Dave 'The Doctor' had other ideas however and after completing the over he left the field to run his injured digit under the cold tap for a while, before returning after about 2 further over’s to bowl another 10 or so over’s.

God knows what would happen if he actually did break his finger... The Voice waits with baited breath and with pen at the ready.

Golden Moments 2008 countdown 10-6

2008-10-06T14:37:00.000-07:00

Number 10 - 'Is that Arthur up there?'

Date: Saturday August 16th
Opposition: Basildon and Pitsea

Starring: Dave Clarke

After restricting Basildon to a paltry 146, any normal team would have been able to cruise to victory in this game with no real problems. Leigh however habitually decide to make these games into the sort of nail-biting, gut wrenching drama that would not look out of place in a Shakespeare tragedy. Early inroads gave Basildon a sniff of a win. When wickets 4 and 5 went down with still 20 runs needed (and the team batting effectively one man down due to the lower middle order Power of Dan being injured) Aaron Kerner and Joe Green were in trying to nudge Leigh closer to victory. As the lower order of Ben and Brian got padded up in front of the pavilion like Medieval knights awaiting a great battle, Dave Clarke had replaced Brian in the scorebox. Searching for a new pencil in Stubbington's pencil case, Dave unfortunately for all concerned stumbled across something that all mentally fragile batsman dread to hear - the duck call.

The man that to many encapsulates mental fragility in every way happened to be the batsman due in next - Ben Giles. Ben was padded and waiting to go in to perform his normal trick of sailing the ship home. However with the duck call in the hands of the Sledgehammer, Ben's mind started to turn to the consistency of finely strained chicken soup. As Clarke starting trumpeting the sound of a mallard, the noise started to hone in on the Giles psyche. After asking politely that Dave desist his quacking failed to achieve silence, Ben started getting angry. Insisting that Clarke stop in no uncertain terms. Strangely this seemed to spur Dave on. Ben's mind continued to crumble as now he had a small army of ducks stomping around in his brain. Ben's last act was then to plead for him to stop saying "Clarkey please stop, I'm falling to pieces down here". When another wicket fell Ben walked in to the sound of loud quacking. Amazingly able to hold it together enough to see off the first ball.

For the majority of the season Brian Pettitt had been doing a lot of the scoring for his team. His naturally nervous state of mind normally meaning that when the games got a little tense, he would spare no thought to letting his batsman know exactly what he imagined they should be doing or endeavouring to encourage the troops by screaming various sound-bites from the scorebox. When Brian Pettitt joined Ben at the crease, thankfully for every Leigh player, Dave declined to follow Brian out with the duck call. This game was as tense as any so far in the season and with Brian out in the middle Dave Clarke stepped up to the mantle of encourager in chief. With only 4 runs left to get Brian wafted at a wide one and Dave took no time in 'encouraging' by bellowing out "Get your f-ing head down Brian!"

A natural successor to the Hands has been found!

Number 9 - 'Traitor'

Date: Saturday August 30th
Opposition: Walthamstow / Leigh on Sea

Starring: Tim Knox

Our overseas import Tim Knox had made a big impression in his first season with the club, his bowling and batting being a great boost to new first team captain Stuart Elliott. Alas for Tim his Bruce Forsyth-esque appearance had not made such a big impression with the local female population (not nice to see him, to see him not nice) and for a long time he cut a forlorn and frankly unsatisfied figure until a local lass dropped her standards below the floor where Timothy was waiting! His true moment in the sun came not between the bedsheets but between the slips and point during the final league game of the season for the first team.

With a Walthamstow player off injured Leigh very generously sent there import out to sub field, with the opposing captain instantly putting Knox in at gully.

Sean Elliott was at the crease at the time facing their whippy New Zealand opening bowler. After leaving the first ball, Sean played semi forward to the second ball with perfectly coached soft hands but still only getting the outside half of his bat at the ball. The edge flew low toward Knox at gully. Surely the Leigh player would make an attempt but fail to catch it. It was a difficult chance, not a certainty for even a Test player (certainly if he was English) Tim would no doubt realise this and grass it for his friend... no, Tim with the reflexes of a cat who has been learning the ways of 'the force', threw his right hand down toward the ball with perfect timing snatched the catch mere centremetres from the turf.

To add insult to injury he then almost celebrated with the Walthamstow players due to the sheer unbelievable nature of the catch. Only just holding onto his impulse to hoop and holler, for understandable fear of retribution later.

Needless to say Sean didn't buy many drinks in the evening that followed the game!

Number 8 - 'The Letter'

Date: Wednesday May 7th
Opposition: N/A

Starring: Richard Stubbington

Dear Sir / Madam

I think you'll find that its all about me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me!

Yours Truly

R Stubbington Esq.

Number 7 - 'Tim vs The World'

Date: Saturday July 19th
Opposition: Old Southendians

Starring: Tim Hewitt

We all have bad days.

Some days are however worse than others. For Tim Hewitt the Saturday game against Old Southendians would see him:

Turn up late
Forget his cricket trousers
Have to watch the most boring innings of batting ever
Tread in a huge pile of dog crap that instantly wound itself round his pimpled cricket boots
Suffer horrific bouts of wind (Although others suffered perhaps more)
Watch as Liston scored 70 and finally...
Bat at number 6 when only 3 wickets fell in the Leigh innings!

All in all, not a day to tell the grandchildren about.

Number 6 - 'Leading by example'

Date: Saturday July 5th
Opposition: Westcliff

Starring: Brian Pettitt

Games against Westcliff are always hard fought, and normally have a fair share of aggro involved somewhere along the line. From debatable umpiring decisions, to dodgy catches and non walking there is always something to get people riled.

This game was no different.

As the Westcliff first team had been soundly spanked by the latest in a long line of first team conquerors during the year, the core of their team was seated on the boundary of the Leigh pitch to watch the Westcliff second team try to stave off a concerted Leigh assault. With Leigh very much on top in the game one late middle order partnership started growing worryingly for the home side. With messers Power, Catchpole and Pettitt all trying manfully to dismiss either of the two batsman (no-one knew there names unsurprisingly) as it became clear that Leigh efforts to wind up the game were becoming less and less fruitful, the attempts of the Westcliff first team to wind up Brian Pettitt were starting to pay dividends.

As Brian strained to get that extra yard of pace to blow the batsman away he overstepped, ruthlessly called by the umpire and cheered by the Westcliff support on the boundary. Brian ran in again but again was caught no balling. Another cheer went up. By this time steam can be seen erupting from the ears of the giant seamer and as he walks back to his mark he delivers a vitriolic burst toward the Westcliff first team who greet it with mocked 'ooooing' which did not please the skipper anymore than the no-balls were. After getting to the end of the over (only overstepping a further time to the delight of the visitors) Brian walked back down to fine leg, not before he aimed an outstretched digit in the general direction of the Auld Enemy.

Golden Moments 2008 countdown 15-11

2008-09-14T10:10:00.000-07:00

After the rundown of 'The Voices' top 15 most shameful and inglorious moments from the Centenary Season last year with Simon Wallace just pipping Paul Sibley to the title, anticipation has been high for who and what would be challenging for the crown this season. Players have been on their toes, administrators have been sharpening their knives and everyone has been wanting to avoid the top spot. The selection process has been laborious, the contenders have been whittled down, and the final 15 are ready! So eyes down, look in, here we go.

Number 15 - 'Heads!!'

Date: Saturday September 6th
Opposition: Benfleet

Starring: Richard 'Handbag' Stubbington and Brian Pickles

We all know that sometimes, fashion is a very important thing to take into consideration. When going out drinking with friends, or to a meal with that special someone, you always want to look your best. Clothing is selected with style in the front of your mind. What statement do I want to make with what I am wearing?

Sometimes however style has to be ignored, and in even more extreme circumstances it has to be bound, gagged and tossed into the nearest open waterway. One of these extreme times was in the last second team league game against Benfleet. Benfleet's home ground Woodside Park is to warm weather what Genghis Khan was to international diplomacy. A chill breeze is always blowing through the wild open tundra of Benfleet and on this day stinging horizontal rain had decided to ride on the wind. This meant that, although everyone was keen to get out and win the vital promotion game, no-one was looking forward to the mild pneumonia that might come from the conditions. Richard Stubbington, never one to provide fielding bravery in any way shape or form, was concerned that his delicate physical condition was under threat from the elements. In an effort to ensure his own warmth and wellbeing, he elected to strap on an extra large 'Freddie' long sleeve woolly jumper.

Now as everyone knows Selfington's throw has never been the strongest, in fact throughout his career many have chanced a 'risky' two only to find they get home with time to spare before his throw arrives. This day with the long sleeves on his extra layer that would have dwarfed the arms of an NBA All Star, his throw was further hampered. Midway through the innings a flick through square leg off Dan Power sent Richard scampering toward the boundary in pursuit of the ball. Having caught the projectile, Richard turned to throw. Although the speed of his arm was negligible, his accuracy was perfect and straight as an arrow it flew back to the strip. The only thing that stood in the way of the ball striking the stumps and potentially leaving the batsman floundering mid-pitch was the area between the shoulder blades of the square leg umpire. At that precise moment the square leg umpire was the Northern Warrior that is Brian Pickles, a man never known to hide his disgust or displeasure at various cricketing matters at various points in his life. At being struck by the throw, Brian instantly winced with the pain of the blow, before half turning and hurling his plastic over and ball counter to the floor (with a great deal more power than Richard had managed). Glaring at the heavily jumpered miscreant with what criminal justice lawyers would describe as almost "reason enough to convict, your honour" Brian was clearly unimpressed. Casual observers later commented they were unsure whether Brian was annoyed because of the direction of the throw or disappointed with the lack of power.

Number 14 - 'Standing up to the Captain'

Date: Saturday May 31st
Opposition: West Essex

Starring: Dave Clarke and Brian Pettitt

After another week of persistent rain there was a grey cloud over the entire cricket programme for the last weekend in May. Somehow the second team fixture went ahead, with conditions at West Essex best described as 'damp' and at worst 'quagmire'. The second team took to the field to start the show. With the track performing schizophrenically with indifferent bounce very much to the fore, the positioning of the keeper and slips was seen by captain Brian Pettitt as vitally important early doors. Having seen one ball fail to bounce at all from the skiddy Steve Elliott, Brian instructed his keeper Mr D. Clarke in his finest commander in chief voice to "come up a few yards Clarkey, its not gonna bounce much today son!"

This request was not met with much glee by Dave however, who replied by asking whether the captain would maybe prefer to take over the role behind the stumps himself. Cue a very frank exchange of views between the two protagonists on both the merits of a 6 foot 5 inch wicketkeeper (everyone knows 5 foot 10 is the optimum keeping height), of the captain keeping wicket and the importance of a wicketkeeper batsman being able to think for himself.

Both will be producing their findings in short essays on these topics very shortly.

Number 13 - 'Showtime!!'

Date: Saturday July 12th
Opposition: Everyone

Starring: Dan Power

Leigh is a club with its fair share of personalities, with the angry, the bizarre, the good, bad and definitely the ugly. However this year, one man has been arguably the biggest personality on the pitch at our club. Dan Power, leg spinner for the second team has been taking wickets, making big hitting runs down the order and pissing off opponents all season.

After one fielding display in which catches were being dropped at a staggering rate, Dan after taking one, produced his coup de grace - "You gotta want it!! I caught it cos I wanted it!!" This catchphrase was repeated at various clutch points through the season as Dan helped spin Leigh to the title.

Dan's other trump card up his sleeve is his ability as well as delivering leg breaks is delivering top notch extremely loud shrill appeals at an unbelievable rate. These appeals not only stop the game for the umpires decision, they stop other games in the park! Once this appeal has been adjudged successful by the umpire (no doubt packing aspirin) then starts a celebration that Monty Panesar would be proud of.

The new Leigh showman - Dan Power!

Number 12 - 'Oh baby its cold outside.'

Date: Saturday April 19th
Opposition: Westcliff

Starring: Richard Stubbington and Dan Power

Another tale of Richard Stubbington 'Stubbo' not revelling in the cold conditions on a cricket field, but this time he had a partner in crime. The preseason friendly against Westcliff had already seen two moments that told of what was to follow during the rest of the season, with firstly Jon Threadgold giving Richard a life by failing to give Stubbo out stumped, when he was late on returning to the crease by about 2 seconds (he preceded to go on to get an asthma pump fuelled 90) and the other taste of what was to come was the first in a season of cameo's by one D Liston (39).

As Westcliff toiled on a bitingly cold day at the CPCG, it soon became clear that when Leigh fielded it would probably be even colder. After tea, many of the fielding team took extra time to slip on a long sleeve tshirt or a jumper. Stubbington and Power were the last two left in the changing room as the rest of the side arrived out onto the field greeted by a lovely early season combination of howling winds and leaden grey skies that continued threatening rain.

Power arrived onto the field first of the two, wearing multiple underlayers, two jumpers, a truly horrible fleecy looking bright white adidas coat (resplendent with light blue three stripe) and to top this polite society fashion crime was a grey and red beanie hat! Unforgivable. Everyone on the field thought they had seen it all. That is until Selfington appeared.

Richard rolled onto the field looking less like a well honed cricketing machine ready to wage war onto the Westcliff batting lineup, and more like the Stay Puft Marshmallow man. He was tanked up with two 'baselayers', a t-shirt, two cricket shirts, a blue Leigh on Sea rain proof hooded macintosh, a short sleeved jumper a long sleeved jumper and his blue slazenger sun hat. Loud laughter could be heard from all parts as he shuffled his way onto the field, as the hood of the rain proof poked out the back of the long sleeved jumper and the sun hat was pulled down as far as it could reach over his ears in a desperate effort to ward off the cold.

To keep his hands warm he spent the next two hours fielding like a gimp.

Number 11 - 'Holiday! Celebrate!'

Date: Saturday July 12th
Opposition: Benfleet and Old Southendians

Starring: Stephen Elliott

When first team opening bowler Steve Elliott rocked up to the third team game against Benfleet midway through the season, his bowling statistics were not looking pretty, in fact up until that point in the year he had 'got into the wickets' fewer times than he had got into Reflex. As the rest of the team arrived, many cast green eyed gazes at Steve's golden tan which appeared to have materialised during the week. When asked if he had been on holiday, he surprisingly replied in the negative however. After more extensive questioning it was revealed that Steve's tanned glow was from a bottle of tan enhancing moisturiser applied in the morning! This tan which, at first glance looked fairly natural, proved upon closer examination to be rather streaky and patchy in coverage. As the opening (now West Indian) bowler started his run up for the first ball of the game, it became clear that something however was different.

After 5 overs Steve had 4 wickets! He was bowling with accuracy, speed and control and had systematically dismantled the Benfleet top order. 3 of which had been comprehensively bowled by 'Tanned Sidearse' setting up the team for a comprehensive 9 wicket victory. (Only batsman to fail - D Liston)

Seeing his season had now turned the corner, Steve arrived at the next game against Old Southendians sporting the same streaky sun tan that had graced Woodside Park. Proclaiming before the game in fact that his upturn in form had been purely because of his 'lucky tan'. After 5 overs of bowling Steve had however lost all of the good fortune his Curtly Ambrose looks had gained him the previous week and he had sunk back down into the mire of more pale faced Leigh medium pacers, without even so much as a sniff of a wicket.

Suffice it to say the 'lucky tan' did not appear the next week.

A club welcome....

2008-04-29T05:08:00.000-07:00

Before the next installment of the northern voice column, the club would like to welcome Tim Knox as our overseas player this season.

We hope he enjoys his stay and doesnt get too much abuse....one of those is more likely than the other!

The Management

A winters tale.......

2007-12-31T04:07:00.000-08:00

All cricketers know that the winter months always drag on horribly. The nights seem to be dark from September 1 right till the middle of April, the temperature drops to the point where even the most hardy P.E. teacher begins to consider a pair of trousers, and suddenly the roads are so full of cars that going out of your house becomes a complete chore.

Is it any wonder that once the light returns to the afternoons, that each year there are less and less cricketers scurrying into it in a vain attempt to warm their now emfeebled and horrifically plump bodies? Many reasons for this decline have been mooted, is it because the population are getting older and giving up the game? Is it because people are getting so morbidly obese that they can no longer trot a single where once they would have picked up a casual three? Oh no, these reasons are mere contrivances when considered against the actual reason. Wave after wave of cricketers are being affected mentally by Seasonal Affected Disorders of varying seriousness. These disorders range from the opening batsman that can no longer leave the house without checking that the light in his lounge is turned off 74 times (no more, no less) and is therefore unable to make the start of any game. To the genial off spinner that has gone steadily barmy from day after day of not seeing the sun, before finally snapping and going out one dark morning on a terrifying gun touting rampage, causing thousands of pounds worth of damage to local business and seriously injuring several innocent bystanders.

These types of extreme occurances are understandably rare (although up by 12% last winter due to England losing the Ashes in spectacular style) although the problem of SADS is an altogether more real threat to cricket.

Here at Leigh-on-sea, the winters are just as long as everywhere else in England, and although the warmth of Mariners and SS9 play their part in easing us through the dark days of winter (and the incomparable charms of the girls in reflex keep Stephen Elliott going week on week) a summer of cricket has the same kind of guilty pull to us as seeing scantily clad celebrities gyrating on Strictly Come Dancing.

Many cricketers have ways of avoiding the asylum however, little time wasters that allow the mind to refocus on things away from the cricket field. As the 2007/08 winter is now in full swing (cricket season is at T minus 121 days and counting), The Voice has asked some of the Leigh on Sea players how they are getting through the winter so far and here is what they said!

David Catchpole: I have taken on a particularly demanding medical degree, I am looking to better myself by giving something back to the community with my new skills. As an added bonus; if Lash breaks down at a game, I can offer (almost) top notch treatment of any potential fetlock injury.

Jon Threadgold: I have started my own pet sanctuary

Mark Nattrass: An eccentric Chocolatier moved into the area and, despite the potentially prohibitive dress code and the fact I am 7 foot taller than the rest of the workforce, I have disguised myself well enough to get a manual labour job at his new factory.

John Monk: I bought myself a dog

Alex Camp: I stalked major sports stars and then posed for slightly seedy looking pictures with them (in a nasty pink jumper)

Lee Willson: I spent the winter in hospital after telling Stuart Elliott “Seriously though Stu, I think Sean would make a better first team captain than you mate”.

Stephen Elliott: I started a family

All of these players have got through the winter unscathed, well apart from Willson of course. He will be back living only for his cricket come the first game (well maybe not the first game but once it gets sunny again he will return) as will all those of you who fill the winter with mind exercising tasks!!

Don’t let the winter get you down!! Cricket is almost back!!

The Voice

A fond farewell...

2007-10-19T02:11:00.000-07:00

Although The Voice is in deep hibernation at the moment (I am having the rugby streamed live into my winter home deep underneath the tree in chalkwell park) I would like to take this opportunity to pop my head out of my burrow for a moment to wish our overseas player Chris Villani 'bon voyage'. Chris has been a stand out performer in the first team this year, forming a potent opening partnership with Braithers that I'm sure no opening batsmen enjoyed facing. I'm equally sure no tail enders enjoyed the fire breathing Australian tearing in either, especially the 12 year old at Billericay who is still having nightmares about the throat high beamer that Villani speared down at him.

Off the field Chris's personality shines through and his ability to crank the music in the club up to deafening levels without anyone trying to throw him through the window is testament to his popularity within Leigh. He has also helped out with numerous chores around the place and vital activities that have assisted the maintanence and upkeep of the club. His contributions have been noticed and greatly appreciated.

I know that he will be missed by all who dwell around the club, although now Rob Catchpole will now feel a bit freer in the changing rooms without the prospect of being face to face with 'little Chris' every time he turns around.

We hope to welcome Chris back at some point in the future, (he is better than Ray Clarence after all) for his talent, sense of humour, and the fact he is cheap!

Villani-ohh-ohhh-oh

The Final Dig...

2007-09-12T06:11:00.000-07:00

The Voice is, as any true blue blooded cricket fan should be, going into hibernation now for the winter as the extremely dull and boring football season starts. The Voice would like to take this opportunity to thank all those that have featured in his many columns and that have taken it in the spirit it was intended. To all those that have taken offence to anything printed here, The Voice would just like to recommend that they ignore this column in the future for their own good.

The voice would like to single out Richard Selfington for particular praise, and his tireless efforts to provide The Voice with new material through his various comical activities on the cricket field have certainly not gone unnoticed. It is with this in mind that The Voice would like to congratulate Richard on being the inaugural winner of the ‘Voice’s Main Inspiration Award’. Richard had one innings in the first team this season which lasted just one ball before an umpire decided that he didn’t want such a selfish batsman at the crease scoring runs. Rich has picked up a new nickname ‘Selfington’ this year, which has swept through the club and has given The Voice much pleasure using it whenever he can. He has also been striving to reach a goal of 500 league runs, which looked like it was in the bag with him only needing 14 from the last game of the season against Basildon. Leigh put together a fairly untroubled total of 245 for 5 with 3 players getting 50’s and two scoring solid 20’s, in fact there was only one batsman to fall for less than 14 and that of course was Selfington. Leaving himself close but alas not holding a hamlet. This also gave The Voice plenty of amusement.

So take a bow Selfington, you have earned it!

The Voice's Golden Moments 2007 no's 5-1...

2007-09-06T06:51:00.000-07:00

Number 5 – ‘Hitting the nail on the head'

Date: Saturday August 18th
Opposition: None

Starring: Selfington and Mark Sexton

This was quite possibly the most shocking moment of the Leigh 2007 season. The brutal nature of it stunned all that were in attendance, as a normal cricket club conversation turned into a scene of blood and pain. It all started so innocently;

The second team had returned from a difficult day at Harold Wood Caravan Park, and several players from the ones had remained in the bar at the park after their game. The usual post game banter began amongst those in the club. Much attention was made of the first team captain, who had scored a half century and was standing at the bar with no shoes on. Upon interrogation it was discovered that during his heroic innings he had middled a ball into the big toe of left foot, and the digit did indeed look to be in a very painful state. After a time a three way conversation between (a seated) Selfington ‘Snicky Snicky’ Bassett and Sexton developed, with Selfington putting forward the idea that his salix should be promoted to the first team. As this tête-à-tête continued Selfington began to sense that the groundswell of opinion was that this was a good idea. Selfington and ‘the salix’ in the ones, yeah, that sounded like a plan! As he saw his chance of getting into the first team opening up in front of him, Selfington began to feel the excitement of the moment. He began to struggle to remain still in his chair or halt his hands trembling at the thought of being a club hero. In this mood of child-like glee he swung his feet around his chair and caught the first team captain with a glancing blow right on his damaged toe. Emitting a cry similar to that of a (welsh) grizzly that has been caught in a bear trap, Mark leapt out of the pavilion on one leg with his toe pumping blood horrifically. As people rushed to his aid outside Selfington remained seated………...head in his hands…………….knowing that yet again he had f*cked it up.

Number 4 – 'In it for the money'

Date: Saturday 11th August
Opposition: Woodford Wells

Starring: Stephen Elliott
(Co-Starring: Ben Giles and the first team)

Pranks are a well known mainstay of the all Leigh dressing rooms, and this was one of the cream of the 2007 crop. Having completed some decorating chores for Ben Giles, Steve arrived at the game still awaiting payment from the big Chinese fast bowler. Chin handed over the £180 fee before the match against Woodford Wells began and all appeared to be hunky dory for the Canvey lad. However, unbeknownst to him, Ben was hatching a plan that would explode all over Elliott like a particularly excited John Maynard. The plan was that Steve's wallet (now containing an extra £180) would be taken from the valuables and the money removed. When the valuables were handed out after the game, the players getting their wallets first would pretend that they had been victims of a devious changing room thief. By saying that minor sums of money had been taken from them, Elliott would instantly be on edge knowing that he had close to £200 in his wallet, would it still be there? The plan swung into action with the assistance of the team, and as the match finished and the valuables were handed out and the game was afoot. The first players to get their valuables back instantly reported to the rest of the team that they had had money stolen from their wallets, £20 missing here, £10 missing there and so it would have been an extremely very nervous Stevo who picked up his (now decidedly weightless) wallet and looked inside.......to see to his horror, that the money had completely disappeared! Elliott visibly melted in the face of such an act of wilful theft of so much money. "My money's gone too, and I had almost £200 in there!!" After about two seconds his tormentors could not handle the look of disgust on Steve's face any longer and everyone burst out laughing.

Amazingly Beadle was not involved!

Number 3 – 'Do the white line'

Date: Sunday 8th July
Opposition: Chelmsford

Starring: Chris Villani and Simon f*cking Wallace

Sensationally slam dunking into the top 3, and not to be outdone on the joke front, Simon f*cking Wallace, with this effort on our overseas import. A Sunday game against Chelmsford is normally a recipe for a jolly good hiding on the windswept moor that is Chelmer Park; with sunny moments normally very hard to come by. With time on his hands in the changing room, the prankster mind of Simon f*cking Wallace sprang into action in a bid to lighten the mood of the side. With Villani's equipment lying around 'unguarded' Beadle decided to fill the curly haired man's gloves with talcum powder, sit back, and watch the action. As the wicket fell that brought Chris to the crease, Chris strode out slipping his hands into the sabotaged gloves. After a minute or two at the crease with small wisps of white dust dancing around his wrists, Vills smelled a rat (probably a white one) He took his gloves off and a plume of white smoke unfurled itself from inside, billowing out like weather supercell gathering over Mexico. Glancing down at his hands he saw they had taken on an almost albino-like skin hue. Kneeling down he started beating his gloves against the floor sending more and more talcum powder dust into the air. Up riotous laughter was flowing freely from the Leigh sidelines at the scene that was unfolding in the middle with Villani now unable to be seen at all.

The laughter from Matt Wallace was possibly loudest of all at the talcum attack, but later on the shoe was very much on the other foot Smerca discovered his jeans pockets had been another casualty of the talcum powder kid's rampage!

Number 2 – 'Why, why, whhyyyyy, Paul Sibley?'

Date: Saturday 30th June
Opposition: Harold Wood

Starring: Paul Sibley

Sensationally slam dunking into the top 2 is possibly THE most toe curling moment of the whole countdown. It happened in a second team game at Chalkwell Park against Harold Wood. The game itself was spoiled by rain but spirits around the home dressing room was still high. Lee 'Candyman' Willson had been dishing out sweets from the shop to anyone that wanted them, and various rain games had sprung up spontaneously. As the game was finally called off by mutual consent as the heavens opened again, the Leigh team returned to the changing rooms annoyed but still in good heart. An unexpected jug was brought into the changing rooms to add further cheer to proceedings.

With the Candyman (and his bag) taking up the area around 'The Burch Perch’, the pale pink changing room table (that had been in the changing room for at least half a decade) was in the middle of the room still and various bags and glasses and rubbish were cutting off the left hand way around the room, space was indeed at a premium. As Paul Sibley entered the room, he realised that a clear path to his bag on the other side of the room was going to prove tricky. He paused for a moment as his mind quickly ticked through the possible ways to his bag, like an overweight Jack Bauer trying to find his way past a terror cell that are attempting to blow up a doughnut. He finally found the best way was to avoid the long and treacherous road around the table and just go straight over the top. This would normally not been a problem, however Paul had eaten a lot of the Candyman's treasure trove of sweeties during the game and was carrying up to 2 extra stone in weight. As he put his foot onto the top of the table it collapsed under the strain making an almighty crunching noise as wood splintered and buckled. Upon removing his foot it was clear to see that a fatal blow had been landed to the table and that no matter of chest compressions or mouth to mouth would save it as it flat lined out of existence.

Not happy with securing entry into the top 15 of the golden moment’s countdown, 'Baywatch' Sibbo then attempted to shoot for top spot. When questioned by Steve 'Basildon' Brown over the gargantuan pair of shoes that Sibley had prepared for his post game activities, Paul answered with such staggering lack of forethought that left the rest of the team stunned to the very fibre of their beings. Many of those players that were present at the time have sworn that they saw the tiny man that controls Paul's brain leaving his post, picking up a pack of Rothmans from his bag and popping out for a crafty one leaving Paul to fend for himself for 5 minutes (big mistake). Paul answered the query about the size of his feet by revealing not only the size of his feet but also the size of something rather more personal. Many were left flabbergasted at this staggeringly unnecessary admission. With ladies man Willson, shaking his head for a good half an hour in utter bewilderment.

Number 1 – 'Boom shake, shake, shake the room'

Date: Saturday 18th August
Opposition: Harold Wood

Starring: Simon f*cking Wallace

And here we are at The Voice's number 1 moment of 2007. Sensationally slam dunking into the top spot is this years duck award winner Simon f*cking Wallace. High ranking right wing think tank official Simon, normally the first to bemoan any yobbish behaviour at the club, has this season been conspicuous in his displays of annoyance at his performances. Twice he has stunned onlookers with shows of pure rage. The first time was at an away game (the location of which the clubs lawyers have advised me not to mention for fear of a damage bill being received) in the first team. Simon upon returning to the pavilion went 'completely off his face' and smashing his bat into everything and anything in his path, leaving in his wake a trail of destruction that Hurricane Dean would have looked at with some respect.

This incident has been taken into evidence by the prosecution as merely supplementary evidence. The main reason that Beadle has been hoisted to the top of the tree, occurred in the away Harold Wood second team fixture. Having fielded like he was taking a cocktail of amphetamines, steroids and crack cocaine, Simon looked relaxed striding to the crease at number 7 looking at a pitch that was literally doing everything. Brown had earlier caught one on the lid from a ball only marginally short of a length, and anything hitting the deck was getting variable bounce and sideways movement, ideal for a player of Simon's quality off the back foot. Having had what some have would call a 'disappointing' season and most others would call 'a disaster' Simon proceeded to get off the mark fairly quickly (a triumph in many ways) and started to graft his way into his innings. As he moved past 10, he was starting to look comfortable, starting to get acclimatised to the pitch and the bowling. He moved past 15 with a stylish drive and all looked well.

On 17 however he was undone, a leg side delivery bounced more than expected and rebounded onto his stumps off a combination of pad, gloves, bat and floor. He looked back in disgust at how he had been dismissed, (exactly the same way he had been bowled the previous Sunday) but had no option but to leave the crease. He walked back to his team huddled together as the cold drew in. The burned down Harold Wood pavilion was in stark contrast to the fire that welled up inside him and he crossed the boundary, and it overflowed like Krakatoa as he hurled his bat against the wire fence surrounding the burnt out pavilion as his team mates recoiled. Picking up the bat he moved into the away portacabin and the door swung shut behind him. As observers looked on the violence occurring within the cabin was clear to be heard, the thumping of willow against the prefab walls was deafening. The steady movement of the cabin as 'hell was unleashed' slowly finished and many thought the fury was over, not by a long chalk, as a minute later (clearly after replaying the dismissal in his mind) Si went on a new offensive, battering the cabin anew. After another lull followed by a final fling of sheer aggravation, the cabin settled back on its bearings and quiet again reigned at the ground. 6 minutes and 24 seconds of unbridled chaos had been unleashed on the away portacabin and it lived to tell the tale.

Imagine what would have happened if he had got a duck.....

The Voice's Golden Moments 2007 no's 10-6...

2007-09-03T05:01:00.000-07:00

Number 10 – ‘Messiah-gate’

Date: Saturday June 16th
Opposition: Billericay

Starring: Pontius Pilate and ‘Brian’

The book of the voice chapter 3:16 says, “no hard feelings yeah?”

Number 9 - ‘It’s not coming out right’

Date: Saturday July 14th
Opposition: Stanford Le Hope

Starring: Ben Giles

After an opening burst of bowling in the sun from Braithwaite and a wayward 5 overs from an injured Villani, Mark Sexton was under pressure and looking for options to restrict the flourishing Stanford batsmen. Luckily he had Ben Giles straining at the bit to be brought on and show his worth to the team. Unluckily Ben then proceeded to bowl a mix-bag three overs of decent stuff with a hearty helping of absolute dross. As he walked towards the top of his run up for the fourth over he was under a cloud of personal doubt. Stanford were looking comfortable, he needed to produce something special, it was up to him to get the break through. He roared in and the ball roared to the boundary. After his 6th ball he had conceded 11 off the over. He walked away disconsolate, making a slashing movement with his hand across his throat, he told his captain to take him off, "it’s not coming out right". This would normally be bad enough for any bowler to concede defeat in such a way. Unfortunately for Ben the embarrassment was made even more complete by the umpire calling to him that, because of a wide delivered during the over, there was actually one more ball to bowl. Ben had to then walk back to his mark and bowl another ball which was hit for four past point.

Never has a chin been lower…

Number 8 – ‘No-one is safe’

Date: Saturday June 23rd
Opposition: Hutton

Starring: Stuart Elliott

The two’s needed to kick start their season after going 3 games without a win, competition for places was at its greatest all season, everyone was under pressure. The situation needed the top order to fire and put the bowlers on a solid platform to push for a win against top of the table Hutton. Captain ‘Roll the molars’ Elliott knew that he needed to inspire his troops with words of wisdom and deliver a reminder that ‘no ones place was guaranteed’ and that several players from the thirds could easily take peoples places if performances did you improve. He delivered his career defining speech as if the spirits of Horatio Nelson, Adolf Hitler and Winston Churchill had been melded together into one and engulfed the second team captain. As his ‘we will fight them on the beaches’ speech boomed out, the team listened, captivated by their leader, and went out with renewed vigour to do battle with the mighty Hutton. After 4 balls Leigh were 0-3 with two golden ducks (Dyos and Elliott) and one second baller (Liston) already on the board. After four more overs Leigh had piled on 5 runs for the loss of only 2 more wickets, leaving them virtually dead and buried after just half an hour. Responding to their captain’s words of warning over their continued failure, the top order had joined together and plunged over the edge of the abyss as one, thinking that their was, if nothing else, safety in numbers!

Number 7 – ‘Vortex’

Date: Sunday June 24th
Opposition: Orsett

Starring: Chris Villani and Richard Selfington

By this time in the season ‘the vortex’ (which is a small rugby ball shaped object with a long rubber tail to give increased hang time and noise for those who have not encountered it) was already playing a starring role at any game to which it was taken. Either hitting unsuspecting players or throwing it just over someone’s head so the wail of the ball could be heard loudly, was developing into a skill in itself. Whilst Dave Catch and Villanio were practising this particular throwing challenge in the nets at Orsett, they were presented with a new target, one that would prove to be irresistible. Padded up waiting to bat in the same area as the vortex throwers was Richard ‘Gordon Gekko’ Selfington. He was due to attend a high powered business interview the next day and was particularly keen not to pick up any injuries (especially to his pretty boy facial features) that would spoil the charm offensive he was planning to lay down the following day (codename ‘operation more money for me’). Villani then succumbed to the devilish desire that had no doubt been in the forefront of his mind since Selfington homed into view. He fired the vortex at him from close range hitting the businessman square in the braces.

The red mist instantly descended onto the Selfington, and he turned on the blonde Aussie and attempted to make him regret his actions. A scuffle ensued with much pushing and shoving and blows aimed at all areas (some extremely private) only ceasing when Catchpole turned peacemaker and pulled the two warring factions apart. Shouting erupted with Selfington insisting that Villani “should be deported” and that ‘he knew people that could make that happen’. As yet Villani remains alive and in the country. For how long…..no one knows.

Number 6 – ‘Sean vs. Child’

Date: Saturday June 9th
Opposition: Southend – on – Sea

Starring: ‘The Russian’

Kids grow up so fast don’t they? Pre-teens these days are going out, getting drunk, getting pregnant, and now they appear to be heading for ‘the final frontier’…….sledging older batsman at third eleven cricket games. Returning from an injury sustained at a Marxist rally, Sean found himself in the third team for the game against Southend, looking for runs to stake a claim for a regular two’s place. Upon arriving at the crease for this pressure innings, Sackov quickly found a slice of form with the Southend bowler feeding him with a short wide ball that was punched through point for four. A few balls later Elliup repeated the shot and again harvested four from it. Dispatching another ball through point for 4 however got the goat of the 12 year old Southend boy fielding at mid wicket. Sensing that Sean was chronically weak mentally, the boy commented “Come on boys, he’s only got one shot!” Sean’s fragile mind fell apart like a four week old rhubarb crumble and the only thing he thought he could do in the face of such hostility was attempt to smash the next ball at the child to teach him a valuable lesson to respect his elders.

Next ball was straight and Sean whipped his bat through the line of the ball, wrenching his wrists round to send the ball towards the mid wicket V he normally operates in. Unfortunately for Comrade Elliott the ball had other ideas, dropped the shoulder and went past his bat like a New Zealand winger running past James Pettitt, smashing into middle and off which were the only things in its path. Sackov trudged back to the pavilion a beaten man. Child 1 – Sean 0

p.s. Sean later tried to get his own back by stooping down to the 12 year olds level, by saying ‘lets see how many shots you’ve got then!’ when the small boy came in. Child 2 – Sean 0

The Voice's Golden Moments 2007 no's 15-11...

2007-08-30T08:37:00.000-07:00

Number 15 – ‘Jack vs Rob’

Date: Saturday July 14th
Opposition: Stanford Le Hope

Starring: Jack Sexton and Robert Catchpole

As the first team tried to save the game against strugglers Stanford, the Sexton family entered the park from the tree end gate and wandered down toward the pavilion. The first team players sitting in a line watching the play, all greeted them in a style befitting the family of their leader. However Robert Catchpole had other ideas, in the lead up to what appeared to be a second line gag he leaned forward from the line and asked Jack – “Is that Jack Sexton?”, Jack (possibly sensing a trap) replied “Is that Laura Catchpole?” cue a stunned silence from Rob and uncontrollable laughter from the rest of the first team, who all high fived Jack as he sauntered round into the club.

Number 14 – ‘The disappearing player trick’

Date: Friday July 28th and Saturday August 25th
Opposition: Chinghoppers and Hutton

Starring: Dave Clarke and Simon (f*cking) Wallace

Laying down the gauntlet first in the ‘who can be off the field for the longest competition’ was the ‘sledghammer’ Dave Clarke who by going off for a loo break midway through the fielding innings against Chinghoppers took so long about it that captain Selfington firstly asked someone to locate the first teamer and then left the field himself to find his charge. Dave was discovered seated at the bar, enjoying a cooling pint whilst his team mates exerted themselves. After about 7 overs he returned to the fray looking chilled and well rested.

Seeing that the title was his for the taking Simon (f*cking) Wallace, left the field against Hutton with a minor contact lens problem that he turned into a full scale disaster. After leaving the field Simon dropped the aforementioned lens, and then began the search for a replacement. This took what seemed like days, as he trooped in and out of the away dressing room 3 times then needed to borrow keys to Selfington’s car to use a pair of his lenses. After strolling the long way round the pavilion into the car park the sound of Selfington’s car alarm was heard for several minutes as Simon seemingly attempted to gain forced entry into a car he already had the key to. After removing a lens from the vehicle he strolled back round into the changing rooms, later emerging with eye wear back in place a full 10 overs after he had left the field.

Gold medal for fielding avoiding goes to Simon (f*cking) Wallace

Number 13 – ‘Just like shelling pea’s’

Date: Saturday June 16th
Opposition: Buckhurst Hill

Starring: Steve Brown

As dark rain clouds gathered over the picturesque Buckhurst Hill, Leigh took to the field amidst the fairly chaotic organisation of the Buckhurst side, umpires coming out with no bails or stumps, players turning up five minutes after the start etc etc. David Catchpole began his second over bowling to the taller opening batsman, a legside delivery was flicked out into the on side, straight (and I mean straight) to Steve standing at square leg. Brown proceeded to spill the easy chance much to the horror of Catchpole and his team. Catchpole’s fury was heightened as the rest of his over finished up going into the bushes on the cover boundary ‘at speed’. A few overs later, still hanging his head, wondering how that chance had escaped his grasp, Brown was moved to point by his trusting captain. The very next ball from Brian Pettitt to the tall opener was chipped out to point at waist height, travelling about as quickly as a teddy bear that has been thrown out of its pushchair by a small child. Brown steadied himself and with eyes firmly on the ball, dropped it again. Cue a primal scream from Brian and much head shaking from the slip cordon. One over later and the heavens opened and the game was abandoned. Have one man ever lost so much respect in so short a space of time?

Number 12 – ‘Fore!’

Date: Saturday May 19th
Opposition: Benfleet

Starring: Brian Pettitt

Leigh batted all day for 160 and as a mind numbingly dull afternoon watching Benfleet block dragged out before the second team, one moment livened proceedings for all involved. Someone noticed a golf ball lying on the outfield and then another one flew onto the field in the same vicinity. All eyes turned to where the balls were coming from….and suspicion fell (not unjustly) on a long haired gentleman and his son standing near the playground both holding golf clubs, admiring the quality of their iron play. Big Brian Pettitt decided to instruct the budding John Daly that he should ‘push off’, the golfer (who looked like a cross between a character from Shameless and Meatloaf) was not too pleased with this and in a loud voice instructed Brian that he come closer and say that, and then a loud conversation between the two began consisting of the golfer screaming ‘COME ON THEN!!!’ brandishing his 8 iron. Deciding that taking on a crazed lunatic with a golf club was not his particular brand of vodka, Brian turned his back on the fellow and after a while the man dragged his son and his 8 iron back into the trees whence they had come.

Number 11 – ‘There’s two there’

Date: Sunday August 5th
Opposition: Bardoli

Starring: Dean Waller

After dropping 16 catches in the field Bardoli set about chasing down Leigh’s very competitive total. Early batsman showed that it was well past the tee off time and that swinging the bat and swinging the bat hard was par for the course. The main Bardoli batter, resplendent in sun hat was casually blasting everyone around the ground, even going so far as to dispatch Matthew Wallace into the lower field, smashing into a parked gypsy caravan on the full, much to the chagrin of its Romany inhabitant. Fielders were dispatched far and wide to stem the flow. In the next Wallace over the batter slapped a drive just to the left of Dean Waller on the boundary at mid off. Deano moved towards the ball and picked it up just as the dangerman was calling for the seemingly easy second. Waller and his left arm had other ideas and he fired the ball in toward the stumps furthest away from him. The ball then decided to do its best superman impression, accelerating through the air, before clenching its fists out in front of itself as it roared over the batsman’s head scampering the second, the ball then closed its eyes and dived head first into the leg stump, running the batsman out by a full 5 yards. Hit the showers!

Another cricketing week....

2007-08-24T05:36:00.000-07:00

Sunday – By this time in the season getting out of bed has become something akin to a military operation, involving bugles, winches, cranes and, if you have got really drunk the night before, a dozen or so soldiers. This is due to Saturday evenings at the cricket club being a challenge either to get drunk enough, (quickly enough) that the barbed comments about your 3 runs that day don’t hurt anymore. Or else to get in and out before anyone you don’t want to talk to realises you’re there and comes over to rub in how many more runs than you they scored this week. They have probably done this for the last 3 or 4 weeks and greatly enjoy telling you and allowing you to share their joy.

Your injuries have got to the stage where you feel niggles every time you run after the ball on a Saturday but they don’t really hurt until every Sunday, which you spend moving around like someone that has spent a summer walking around in the middle of Baghdad wearing an ‘I love New York’ t-shirt.

Normally this is the day you would spend with your girlfriend, however after countless warnings about your ‘filthy’ cricket playing habits she has ditched you with the parting shot that “you didn’t want to spend time with me, and it was like you would rather spend it with your mates in ‘that club’” which unfortunately for the relationship was completely true. Now that you don’t have any justifiable reason to not play on Sunday, you sign up to play both days every week in the hope that your woes from Saturday can be blown away by a gritty 70 or a flashing 40, neither of these occur and you trudge back for 3 yet for the second day running (on the way back you see the person you tried to avoid Saturday night just coming out of the pavilion to clap you in)

Monday – After operation ‘get your unfit ass up’ has been completed, you somehow get into work and spend the day thinking about where the season went wrong and making excuses for your miserable performances. You didn’t really get to pre-season nets, you missed two of the first three games due to your (now ex) girlfriend and therefore you didn’t get the chances to ‘get your eye in’ early, the captain of the team didn’t give you enough chances (not quite as convincing if you are the captain and have been forced to drop down the order due to sheer lack of runs or stopped trusting yourself with the ball because of you averaging over 100 runs per wicket), you had 4 unplayable deliveries that even Viv Richards couldn’t keep out, the best batsmen and worst umpires seem to arrive when you get the ball, all the uneven bounce seems to be at the end you spend most of your innings batting, plus the fact that you have not scored above 9 all season and have bowled like a 4 foot arthritic gimp.

Tuesday – You begin to email your cricket friends and complain about your horrific bad luck and ask them if they have noticed anything in your game that is holding you back. Due to watching sky sports coverage of Test Match’s you know all about trigger movements, head positioning and various other minute aspects of the game that are important in the top echelons of cricket, you ignore the fact that you are just missing the ball, or hitting it in the air straight to fielders. You resolve to work on your ‘forward press’ next week and see if that helps.

Wednesday – You practise your forward press in your mind and start miming cover drives around the office. You discover that your stapler is a bit toe heavy but your post it notes have a nice pick up. You dream of scoring flowing 50’s and big hitting centuries whilst somewhere in the distance a phone rings and rings and rings and rings…….

Thursday - Having tried and failed to convince yourself (and anyone else) that it is not your fault you can’t score any runs or take any wickets at the moment, you have now convinced yourself that this season is a blip on your otherwise faultless career and have decided to completely write off this season and begin to look forward to the next one. Next year the sun will shine much more often, the wickets will be flatter when you are batting and instantly turn green (or dust bowl beige if you are a spinner) when it’s your turn to bowl. You will have got the full benefit of nets, you will not have the (ex) girlfriend stopping you playing whenever you wish to, your bat will have developed a salix-esque middle so anytime you manage to hit the ball it will races away taking any fielder that is stupid enough to be in the way to the boundary with it.

Friday – With your new outlook, you are re-invigorated, this season doesn’t matter anymore, you are free from the pressure to perform. Your injuries are starting to feel better and now you are genuinely looking forward to Saturday. Why not start the new season now? You could get your best score for ages with this new frame of mind….you email the captain and tell him of your new impetus toward the game. He feigns interest and pencils you in for a specialist number 8 role.

Saturday – This is the day you have been looking forward to, a fresh start, a new cricketing you. A middle order collapse gives you the chance to shine; you stride manfully to the crease, head held high, completely free from any pressure at all. You take guard with a confident voice and prepare to face your first ball with thoughts of your new forward press that you have been practising with a ruler in front of your full length mirror at home. You proceed to smash the bowling all around the ground, looking better and better as the innings goes on, until it is brought to a slightly premature end by an unplayable straight one and you trudge back having scored 3.

Bugger

For the love of the 'gag'...

2007-08-20T06:35:00.000-07:00

This weeks special guest writer Richard Selfington (edited by 'The Voice')

As part time cricketers we all aspire to believe that we have at least 1% of that ‘X factor’ possesed by those lucky few that make a living out of throwing, hitting or catching a small red ball. This doomed aspiration is annually scuppered when we look at the averages at the end of the season and our hearts sink to see that despite thinking we had an ok season, in actual fact we averaged significantly less with the bat, and significantly more with the ball than the spotty 15 year old that had been called into the side as a ‘specialist fielder’ for 2 games (this embarrassment can be held off for several years if you happen to be the captain of your side and have gone down the road of using previously unrecorded statistics to fix the figures so that you come out on top (boundaries hit, bowling strike rate, balls faced or average price of cricketing equipment used are all useful tools to propel you to the top of this most important of tables))

The pounding that our sense of self worth takes as our stumps are re-arranged every week would no doubt floor Lennox Lewis, and although the average cricketer is famous for having more ‘comebackability’ than Jonny Wilkinson, there are surely limits to this human suffering.

Where does the need to turn up and face constant humiliation come from?

When considering this, it is necessary to understand the motivation of those who participate.
Firstly and foremostly, there is the die hard cricket fan that plays purely because they love the game and would gladly spend every waking minute involved in it in some way if they could. This type of individual moves seamlessly from junior player, (who brings full whites to watch every game he sees (including Test matches) just in case the captain is looking for a small fairly talentless child to fill in for someone)) through being a die hard play anygame, anytime, anywhere, for anyteam senior member, to being not quite mobile enough to be considered a player but will be glad to stand out there and umpire, and then when their bones cant quite cope with the walk to square leg they volunteer to sit in the scorebox (pending stairlift installation). These players are like gold dust in club cricket and should be encouraged to continue their obsession at all costs, (it may be wise to consider giving them a position of power within the club or offer to finance their (now weekly) visits to a psychiatrist). They are "The Cricket Tragic".

Secondly, there is ‘The Talent'. One of those lucky, (though somewhat despised) individuals who actually has a semblance of genuine cricketing ability and goes about proving it more weeks than not against those slightly less fortunate. They have no trouble in smashing bowling all around the ground whilst their team-mate struggles to lay bat on ball at the other end; they then rip through the opposition batting with tidy swing and seam bowling. They can recall countless times when, after a particularly hard night out, they have rocked up at the game, thrown back a red bull and then gone and got a quickfire 80 and taken 6 for 32. They have a jug with their name on it because of such frequent usage. They are either the captain of their side or are receiving regular payments from the captain which they are now using to fund their growing need for illegal narcotics, which they seek in a doomed bid to get the ‘high’ cricket simply no longer provides. They will therefore burn out by the time they are 35, due to unsustainable substance abuse. No one is quite sure of ‘The Talent’s’ motivation - is it for the love of the game, or the love of being better than everyone else. For "Talent" read "Egomaniac".

Thirdly, we come to the person who simply has nothing better to do. At one time they played for a reason, they shrugged off complaints from girlfriends and friends that they had not seen them in weeks. They put off attending important family occasions so that they could turn up and score 0. Now it has been several years since the last party invite came to them and the line of girls willing to be second place to cricket has dried up like an Arabian desert, they have nothing better to do than once again don the creams and step out with whatever motley crew has been assembled to do battle with Old St. Thomasonians Sunday B XI, or whoever is playing that day. The opposition isn't important, the competition isn't important, who they're playing with isn't important...all that matters is that 8 hours of their day will have some semblance of purpose. These are the "Losers".

Lastly, we have those that play for one reason only, to harvest humour from everyone’s misfortune (even including their own). They too turn up every week, but rather than overtly worrying about whether the team have squeezed to a win or crumbled to a sickening defeat, all they worry about is who has made the biggest fool of themselves. This poor unfortunate will then be pilloried for a few weeks until he is replaced by the next one. These are the people that will travel up to play The West of West London Asian All-Star XI with a huge smile on their face, safe in the knowledge that someone’s’ bowling is going to be utterly annihilated, and that only humour can come out of such embarrassment. They will readily endure the wrath of their better halves, forget the string of failures they themselves are experiencing, and ignore the nigglely stomach injury (sustained laughing at a team-mates attempt at a high catch) that will cause them to be house bound by the time they are 40. The fear of there being a moment of sheer comic brilliance taking place and them not being there to witness it is simply too much to bear. Their sleep is interrupted by visions of being on the fringe of their friends humorous banter for weeks to come with no real understanding of what happened. The fear of missing out on Damian Liston having one of 'those' days that so dent the Australians’ pride, not witnessing a battle of wits between Simon Wallace and Clark Emmons, or not seeing Nattrass stride out against the biggest West Indian since Joel Garner to open up when he knows (or at least should do) that his game is likely to be over within tenths of a second (or however long it takes a red sphere to travel 22 yards and be halted by one of three wooden poles) is simply too great to give concern to the latest "It's me or cricket threat", or the concept that in ten years we will only be able to walk with the help of cortisone injections.

The 'gag' of it more than anything draws us all back. At heart, it really seems that when all is said and done...we’re all just a bunch of wannabe Clowns!

The thrill of 'The Chase'...

2007-08-17T06:47:00.000-07:00

Leigh on Sea Cricket Club has lots of very well known characteristics:

Formerly snooker baize like outfield (which all visitors that play remind us of but that is now more remiscient of the famous ‘river of tranquillity’ area on the moon)
Reputation as being one of the most (if not the most) sociable club in the South Essex area.
Having possibly the heaviest (and nosiest) sightscreens outside of the subcontinent (where they actually make then out of 10 inch thick lead without wheels attached and need a team of 20 men to lift)
Having a pavilion that, when it has just been painted (most of the time by Ben), attracts spray paint touting 14 year old hoodlums with the same power that reflex attracts Steve Elliott after a Jaeger bomb or two.

One of the lesser known characteristics, which everyone in the club knows, but we keep very much to ourselves, is this…..’We….can’t…..chase’. Now I know that this could lead to many countering with various pieces of evidence to the contrary. Stuart’s side chased down 204 last week with absolutely no problem at all. Various other teams have also chased effectively every now and again. The fact remains that although every once in a while we make a chase seem easy there is 7 or 8 cases that, with the players available, and in the face of a target of 250 we melt like a poorly compacted snowball in the microwave. There are a number of factors for this; firstly I would dismiss the argument that we simply don’t have the quality anymore. True, back in times of yore, the first team could call on such Leigh legends as Powell, Holmes, Goggin and various burly West Indian overseas players, the likelihood of tracking down a total might have been slightly higher. But with the players we have now throughout the club (names like Burch, Waller, Clarke, Dyos, Hewitt (V or T), Winn, Luker, Elliott (S,S,S, J or C judging by her ton last week)) we should still not have any problems whatsoever strolling to a comfortable win 6 times out of 10 in any team in the club.

Why then is it such a struggle? There is somewhat of a pattern to most Leigh chases, they all start fairly positively, the openers getting a start to get to 30-0 or similar scores. The first wicket falls and another follows. The score drops slightly as 4 and 5 re-build, this happens fairly slowly and they are just getting going when they both are dismissed in quick succession. The lower order now need quick runs but with few wickets in hand, and are then stuck between a rather large boulder and what can only be described as the hardest of hard places. The last pair or so are then left to bat out the last 10 overs to secure a particularly shaky draw (this final pair normally consists of either John ‘Corleone’ Elliott, Ken Webb or Ben Giles, regardless of whether they were actually playing in the first place, they still always appear at the end)

I fear that most of the problem lies with the way we cope with the mental state you need to be in to chase a total. As batsmen we all enjoy watching the ball fly to the boundary, some see it more than others, whilst some of us are reduced to the excited state of a small child on Christmas morning purely because the ball has taken the edge and raced through the slips for a boundary (it was a late cut, honest). Many look to ‘Flay yourself in, then play yourself in’, the fairly obvious meaning being that by moving the field back to stop your whirling dervish like attack it becomes much easier to knock it around and harvest the singles. This strategy is slightly more high risk because you have not had time to adjust your eye to the game or the bowling. It does have the large benefit of completely wrong footing the opposition, who would naturally bring the field in for the new batsman (unless you happen to be Royston Smith, in which case the field goes back for the new batsman)

I would use the example set by possibly the best ODI player ever, ‘The Finisher’ Michael Bevan, who averaged a staggering 86 when the canary yellows won a ODI batting second. Bevan would remain shotless for the first 10 or 15 balls of his innings before attempting to whittle down the total however large bit by bit. Breaking the total down into chunks and working out how many could be scored from over to over. His best weapon was to be versatile, to be able to turn a one into a two one minute and being able to send a ball into the crowd the next. What we need to do is be able more easily is move between these two states of mind, the boundary hitter and the nurdler, the Gilchrist and the Thorpe, the Waller and the Wallace.

And remember, there is always more time than you think!

We can talk the talk.....

2007-08-09T09:24:00.000-07:00

Ricky Ponting (2004) – “Aww look, a lot of English players have put their hands up and grown in stature in the last year.”

The sentence above, delivered by part time weasel look-alike and Australian cricket captain Ricky Ponting is a classic example of the rubbish that is talked by international cricketers these days. It is almost as though ‘management speak’ and ‘cricketing terminology have both gone out, got drunk, booked into a cheap hotel room, spent the night together and 9 months later ended up with a rather ugly looking b*stard offspring. Now this new language, normally the sole lexicon of the Test cricketer, is disseminating through lower level cricket too.

Lets look at some of these new phrases, and lets also remind ourselves of the classic ones we have all come to know and love throughout our cricketing lives. Those little bits of knowlegde and wisdom that have been drilled into us since the year dot (or earlier). Obviously they all can be applied to any team so here is what they really mean in terms of our fair club:

‘Putting your hand up’ (Normally used to suggest that someone has performed above the call of duty in some way. Alas at our level anyone that puts their hand up, puts it down again very quickly when he realises he is being lined up for a spot of cleaning the field by the days MM. However people are extraordinarily keen to put their hands up if someone has gone to the bar and asked if anyone wants a drink.)

‘Coming to the party’ ((See: Putting your hand up) In terms of Leigh, the doormen normally stop us getting to the party if by some miracle we find it in the first place, and we are normally one man short because Wills is going to ‘meet us there’)

‘Stepping up to the plate' ((See: coming to the party))

'Good areas’ (Playing at Saffron Walden, as opposed to….)

‘Bad areas’ (Playing at Benfleet)

‘A bad ball always gets a wicket’ (A very truthful phrase, 's.c.' Sibley has god knows how many wickets this year, and Dave Thompson took 5 in a game during cricket week. Villani bowled unbelievably well at Harlow got nothing, then Bass comes on, wide full toss, straight to cover, 1-0 Bassett! The prosecution rests your honour)

‘1 brings 2’ (In the second team game against Hutton this year, 1 not only brought 2, it had room for 3 and 4 in the back seats with five gagged and bound in the boot)

‘If you're going to flash, flash hard’ (Many believe (Harlow’s first team for….eleven) that this is the unofficial Leigh on Sea motto, and who can argue with them? Damian? Ha ha)

‘Run the first one hard’ (Particularly important if you are batting with Steve Elliott as he is probably turning for the second already, holding his breath…or Matt Wallace because it gives you extra time to see whether he might run you out or not)

‘Catches win matches’ (That is certainly true if you have spoken to Dave or Rob recently, and have not instantly dismissed what they have said as sheer hyperbole)

‘The umpires decision is final’ (Sometimes a difficult one to adhere to, but even if it is an absolutely unbelievable decision…..and the umpire is a total s**t…..please resist the urge to rip out a stump and chase him into the pavilion with what lawyers would call ‘intent’)

‘One for the throw’ (Very true if the fielder is either 'Antichrist' Brown, Selfington, 'The Pied Piper' Willson or Vince Major, less of a wise move if it's gypsy hating ’Dead eye’ Dean picking up the ball on the boundary)

‘You can’t score runs in the pavilion’ (Far too many people to use as evidence for this one, it's true you can’t score runs there, but, there are more packets of crisps available and the proximity to alcohol is much greater. You pay your money and takes your choice)

‘Bowl just back of a length’ (For anybody with a sprinkling of pace, doing this on the pavilion side pitches of The CPCG could lead to batsman either losing teeth or suffering from horrifically broken metatarsals in both feet)

‘Hit out or get out’ (Written on the The Liston family crest, with instructions that these words are to be shouted at any batsman who does not score from 4 successive deliveries. Damian fulfils his oaths to punish those who go against his family motto with pride)

‘Have a look’ (Can be translated as ‘I have no idea whether this guy bowls more like Warne or Stubbington, so don’t try and slap him into the road first ball and get out yeah?’ Most likely to be said just before you try to do exactly that and get out yourself)

‘Play with the spin’ (This phrase assumes a. you can work out which way its spinning and b. you can pick a shot as its coming down depending on said spin. For many of us players at Leigh this would be what Nasser Hussain would describe as ‘a big ask’. This does not apply to prolific shot makers like Villani and Deano because whatever way it spins its still going to disappear somewhere…….fast)

‘Play in the V’ (A very loose term for the ‘quality’ batsman who chooses where he considers his V to be. Clark ‘Plato’ Emmons’ ‘V’ goes from Mid on round to mid wicket, Sackovs' comes round a bit further to mid off, Antichrist Browns' ‘V’ is between wide gully and first slip)

'Wicket taking delivery’ (Anything bowled by John Elliott in a third team fixture)

‘There or thereabouts’ (Bruce Taylor’s supposed proximity to the seabed in the English Channel, 'he is possibly there or thereabouts')

There are also sayings I’m sure are used mainly by Leigh players:

‘Bowl there all day – Damian Liston’ (Needs to be said with a thick Aussie drawl for full effect. Also means the next ball will no doubt be either short or full and will be despatched to the boundary as if to demonstrate the sheer good fortune of the previous ball)

‘Good bat speed – anonymous’ (Was funny the first time we heard it, the second time slightly less so, now on the 11,045th time, shotguns are routinely carried onto the field just in case someone says it.)

‘Shot Helmet - James Braithwaite’ (Has the potential to sweep through the club, and no-one knows why, probably because we’re scared not to say it)

‘SAAAAAVE EM – Ed Freeman’ (Came back from Oz touting this as a catchphrase. These days it means ‘keep running’, the long CPCG grass will hold that certain 4 up no problem and you will look like a prat for just cantering 1 for it)

‘You and me buddy, you and me – David Catchpole’ (Keeping, bowling or fielding, Dave just wants to have fun, ohhhh Dave, just wants to have fun)

‘Snicky Snicky – Richard Bassett’ (Delivered in pure Welsh this gets right into the brain of a batsman, all it needs is a mwahahahaha on the end to round of the pure evil undertones)

'It's all good for us boys, it's all good for us - Dave Clarke' (The batsman has just been verrrry lucky to avoid being caught after that shot, and Dave Clarke wants him to know that he knows how lucky he was)

'Come on fellllllaaa's - Sean Elliott' (Before he became the crippled shell of a man he is today, Sean was a young, slippery fast bowler and captain of the Sunday 1's, this....was his rallying cry! Hardly Churchillian but hey...)

How important is 'image' in cricket?

2007-08-02T03:53:00.000-07:00

We all know that, in the modern day social scene, looks count for a lot. There are those that contest that ‘beauty is only skin deep’, but I am sure that most of us (obviously excluding Gilo, for he is basically ‘Brad Pitt with a better face’) would take a little bit more beauty if it were offered to us. In fact there are some of us who would take a little bit more and still look like a welder’s bench and an unattractive welders bench at that. Good looking people always seem to be at the top of the tree, earning the money, getting the adulation, never see them struggling through life, when was the last time you saw a handsome homeless person?

So it is with life as a whole, but is it the same with cricket? Obviously there are similarities to be drawn in that we all want to look good when we play. Some have taken the Stubbington mantra of ‘Look good, feel good, play good’ (ignoring the grammar) to their heart completely. We all would secretly want to shell out hundreds of pounds on cricketing equipment to look like a Test player if we could. £150 bat – check, £100 helmet – check, £60 pads – check, god given talent………..can I get back to you on that one?

The exact polar opposite of ‘look good, feel good, play good’ has its own saying, which we would all recognise as ‘All the gear, but no idea’. This saying is embodied in many ways by some time Leigh bowler and full time Montgomery’s CC Chairman Mr Matt Couzens whose quest to purchase every piece of Gray Nicholls batting equipment currently on the market (he is even rumoured to have travelled to a black market stall in Portsmouth to buy some knocked off Gray Nicholls endorsed bat tape) has left local psychiatrists baffled as to what potential use he is hoping to put it all to. Many think he is hoping to earn enough G.N. reward points to get a few much needed net sessions with Andrew Strauss.

The Stubbington catchphrase also has another meaning, rather than simply being a case of breaking out the gold card and heading off to Romida for the day, it also stands for having a flash of quality about the way you (attempt to) play the game. It is something that goes through most of what we try to do every weekend i.e. look like someone that knows what they are doing. It is what we all want. We want the opposition and our team mates to look at us and think ‘hey that guy looks like a cricketer’. In some of us it takes the form of holding that forward defence just a half second longer than is absolutely necessary, or not moving a muscle when we cleanly strike the ball through the covers, or swaggering to the crease with all the confidence of Asafa Powell going down on his blocks at the Olympic 100m final and looking across to see that his only challenger is Rob Catchpole.

To build up this reputation within the cricket community it is always good to score runs against a side the first time you play them in the season. Smash one set of bowlers around and then the next time you walk out to the crease you are afforded a certain degree of respect due to your efforts in the preceding fixture. This always makes it slightly easier to settle in early because you don’t need to go through the rigmarole of proving to the fielding side that you deserve to be there. It is also a very nice ego massage to have the other team thinking you are a threat to them. As you normally have to do this through a barrage of sledges and barbed comments about either a) how slowly you are scoring, or b) how much of a cowboy you are to be scoring so quickly.

As ever with our form of cricket off the field image is also important. By having that sparkle of humour or being interesting to talk to, you will always be popular within the team. All cricket clubs benefit from having ‘individuals’ amongst their number, as laughter is the mainstay of cricket be it at someone dropping a catch or someone spilling their drink. This individualism can take on many forms, be it through political leanings (such as BNP activist Dean Waller) philosphical outlook on life (like Clarke Emmons, ‘uuurgghhh would you say Nihilistic or Existentialistic theory played a bigger part in your life?) or by simply growing your hair long and wearing bright colours…..

An average cricketers week

2007-07-24T04:12:00.000-07:00

Sunday – You struggle out of bed, you probably have a hangover from the night before, initiated either by stunningly good performance with both bat and ball, (or more likely a stunningly bad performance with both bat and ball), both these are then followed by six pints of 1664 (or 10 bottles of Magners), followed by a triangular excursion first to Nural, followed by Reflex and then unconsciousness on whichever bed / bench / small patch of dog turd infested grass you happen to stumble upon first. You are also nursing a catalogue of niggling injuries that would lead an England fast bowler to be out for a summer. These injuries normally consist of one, two or all of the following; serious amounts of bruising on both your hands from the fielding session that brought two dropped catches and that at least one ball every two overs being smashed directly at you, leaving you no option but to try and stop it. A minor hamstring tear from having to turn and run to the boundary repeatedly, because at least one ball every over went straight through you much to the delight of the batsman and has led the captain to seriously consider slashing your tyres after the game. A dead shoulder from having to bowl any more 3 overs, coupled with all the throws from the boundary (that followed all the misfields). Finally a rather nasty back twinge from not warming down thoroughly before attempting to wipe your bum on the loo after the game.

If you have committed yourself to playing today (only due to the Sunday captain kidnapping your children / wife / girlfriend and threatening to send random body parts of theirs to you through the post until you agreed to join the Sunday XI trip to West Essex) you will need to shake off the injuries gained yesterday, get over the hangover headache, regain the ability to walk and get out there and do it all again today!

Monday – (See Sunday if you were one of the few the Sunday captain had what the mafia call ‘leverage’ over) If you learned from the last time they were taken, and sent your children into hiding for the week then you should be able to walk with only a slight limp and just about be able to cradle a pen in your hands without yelping like a Jack Russell terrier that has just been involved in a particularly grisly fight with an angry Doberman pincher. Conversations at work today will primarily revolve around ‘what you did at the weekend’ whilst you cant quite remember large chunks of the post game action of Saturday due to copious amounts of alcohol, the game itself remains stubbornly vivid in your memory. You now have the quandary over whether you lie to your work mates and tell them you scored a fifty (best not go for a hundred they will never buy that) and took two wickets, or tell the truth and say you got a big fat zero and dropped two catches? You make your decision and casually shrug off the questions about why you are not playing for Essex.

Tuesday – Work is already starting to lose what little appeal it had. Even though you swore that you ‘F***ing hated cricket’ when the 12 yr old child got you lbw on Saturday, you find your mind wandering back to cricket and the foremost question on your mind is “I wonder what team I will be this Saturday”. (Somewhere the fourth team captain is desperately trying to shuffle his side in the hope of making the answer to that question “none of them”)

Wednesday – The prospect of indoor cricket nets in the evening starts running around your mind as early as 09.03 with as ever the choice between potential practice and personal safety coming into play. You decide that you should risk it, who knows you may even get some confidence from it.

Thursday – Work colleagues marvel at the huge bump on the side of your head and the fact that the first two fingers on your right hand can now not be straightened. They all ask what you were doing to pick up such nasty looking injuries, you lie and say you were in a set upon by a gang of 15 yr olds (much less embarrassing that way) They know you are lying and secretly think you are crazy and have done for some time.

Friday - The prospect of cricket tomorrow is now looming large. Your level of anticipation has gone off the chart. You check the same 6 weather websites that you checked on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday seeking more information about Saturday and see that the forecast is for scattered showers, you begin to worry about the possibly having to spend some time with your family at the weekend rather than larking about with your mates pretending to be playing cricket.

Saturday – Day of the game dawns with bright sunshine. You wake and give a smile and tell your significant other that looks like you will get a game in after all; you feign disappointment that you can’t spend the day with them instead. Meet time is 12.00. How do you space out your meals? Do you get up at 7 and have breakfast then squeeze in lunch at 11 or do you wait in bed and go for one big meal at half ten? Decisions, decisions. You begin searching for the various pieces of equipment that you threw into various corners after last week. 11.30 comes around and you leave the house. Clouds begin to assemble in a threatening manner as soon as you put your keys in the ignition and they follow you to whichever ground you are going to. Tiny pin pricks of doubt start to appear in your mind; where will I bat? Will any catches be hit in my direction? Have I packed my box? Mild panic takes hold because you know you will only be able to find out once you get there.

These questions will all be answered during the course of another Saturday hitting or chasing a little red ball around a big field…..joy!

15 things The Voice has learned this week....

2007-07-17T06:56:00.000-07:00

1) Stuart Elliott is now a fully qualified doctor, specialising in fingers. (‘The Family’ surgery is open Mon – Thurs 09.00 – 18.00, they also are able to help you with any horse problems you may have or unpaid debts you need collected)

2) Mark Sexton has turned 44 (Not 37 as he first announced to the dressing room)

3) When it is made with sheer hatred, vindaloo sauce can take on all the major characteristics of CS Gas, leading to eyes watering, machine gun like coughing, spontaneously combusting tongue and bleeding from various orifices around the body. (source: Mr L Willson)

4) Richard Bassett’s female friend having consumed a fair deal of this (particularly nasty) sauce without experiencing these side-effects, is therefore made of steel and should not be trifled with. (The trifle in the Taj Mahal, although not sampled in person, should also possibly not be trifled with)

5) No-one in the Stanford-Le-Hope first team has ever seen Geoff Boycott hit a six (They have however now seen Dave Clarke hit a six)

6) Jack Sexton is wittier than Rob Catchpole (Fact)

7) Joe Green still has pad rash from Saturday (Watching Liston bat like Tavare (again) is never good)

8) The club actually has four overseas players:

C Villani - Australia
B Chin - China/ Vietnam
D.Clarke - Bosnia
S Elliott - Russia

9) Tucking your cricket trousers into your socks when batting is no longer a valid option (Stanford’s second team has highlighted this, in a variety of colours)

10) Steve Elliott has no respect for his brothers property (This is particularly surprising seeing as most of his Sean’s property is actually the property of someone else, just residing with the Russian until the actual owners realise they have gone missing)

11) Chris Villani is starting to struggle to get into his compression shirt (The fact he has 17 sandwiches, 3 pizza slices, 5 handfulls of crisps, 4 fairy cakes and 2 chocolate bars for tea every week could be taking its toll on the Aussie firebrand, a head to head weigh off vs Damian is due for a months time, book your seats on http://www.heavyaustralian.com/ now to avoid disappointment!)

12) Rob Catchpole is in a gang of hoodies on tiny scooters (Called ‘The Robettes’)

13) Matt Wallace has recently bought himself a ‘stinger’ just in case ‘The Robettes’ scoot round his way.

14) The vortex is at Dean Waller’s house (Probably cowering in the corner, hands on its knees, rocking slightly)

15) The second team number 3 spot is clearly made for ginger left handers (Ginger left-handers at number 3 ave - 76.6, non ginger left handers ave – 25.3)

Is there an I in Team?

2007-07-12T01:09:00.000-07:00

Once again I find myself taking stock of the game that we happy band of miscreants have elected to spend most of our adult lives pursuing something approaching respectability in. It’s clear that cricket gets into our psyche the way that almost nothing else can. When was the last time that you looked forward to anything as much as the next time you bat after you score a 50? Birthdays, weddings, births of your children and other so called special occasions hold nothing in comparison to the anticipation of a sunny Saturday afternoon when we are in good form.

It is possibly the complexity and contrasts of the game that drive us into putting heart, soul, body and in Stuart’s case all of his fingers fully into performing? The general slow nature of the game which most uninitiated see as the major drawback of cricket, we few know is actually the most tense periods, both teams in their respective trenches shelling from long range knowing that something could go off at any time to spark the game ‘going right off’! Then suddenly its wickets tumbling, runs piling up rapidly or someone going completely bananas because a catch goes down or a decision goes against them.

Although cricket is a team game, the team is obviously going to be made up of a wide variety of individuals. All of these take a different view on their role within the club and the game as a whole. However is team ethic a prevalent feature in everyone’s cricket psyche? Seemingly more and more cricketers are thinking less about ‘we’ and more about ‘me’.

Individual performances are vital to the team being successful. Where would the West Indies be in the last decade without Mr Brian Charles Lara? Maybe a more pertinent point would be; was BC sitting on the balcony hoping that one of his team-mates got out? We will probably never know, (unless of course Chris Gayle stops smoking dope and writes an autobiography) although I happen to think KP always wants Strauss and Bell to get out ASAP so he can stride to the crease waving his woodworm around.

Selfishness in cricket can take many forms, every captain of the club that has sought to maximise their own impact on a game by both batting high up the order and doing a bit of bowling has been labelled ‘Seado’. Mostly all these captains have had justifiable reasons for ‘getting in the game’, as most have needed to lead their team like Horatio Nelson at Trafalgar due to the performances of their charges being less like the finest crack shots of the Royal Navy and something more in keeping with a ragged bunch of rum soaked shipwrecks.

Selfish batting is possibly the easiest form of securing full value for £6, meandering along at our own pace irrespective of the game situation or the good of our team-mates. Who can forget the purgatory of watching David ‘Test Match’ Thompson in his prime, smashing third team bowling all around Belfair’s park and being not out with 64 at the end of 52 overs. Recently other players have taken on this slow scoring mantle (not all of them native to these shores); however a new ingredient has been added to the turkey’s mix. Now the selfish batter will sit on the sidelines positively chomping at the bit to get out into the middle to face the oppositions bowling which, in the eyes of the (very) eager watcher, is delivering nothing but a string of half volleys and long hops that everyone batting is just too timidly restrained to dispatch. This cafeteria serving then becomes a string of unplayable deliveries when they finally get to the crease and they find it just a little bit harder swotting it all over the ground than it appeared from the boundary. I am sure we have all at one point in our cricket lives found it is rather difficult not wishing ill on at least one of your team if you are sitting there having carded a low score, always better having two of you with a duck rather than being the only player in the team who couldn’t get to 30.

But in truth selfishness in cricket is no bad thing, relentless run getters such as Waugh, Boycott, Dravid and Monk could all be looked at in a negative light but they put runs on the board. They all give their team a platform with which to go forward and get something from a game. No-one (except the truly selfish player) really minds others getting bagfuls of runs as long as everyone bats to contribute to the team as well as for that feeling of self worth you get from scoring more runs than anyone else!

Collapso Cricket

2007-06-28T01:12:00.000-07:00

These are golden times for run scoring we hear, heavier bats (although not all of them Salix’s, or should that be Salixae?), shorter boundaries, inferior seam bowling, Jupiter aligned with Venus. Everyone from David Gower to David Catchpole knows that bowlers are supposed to have it hard. However it takes quite a few overs of plundering to change a game in favour of the batting team, whereas one ball can turn an innings completely from a bowlers point of view. That ball could happen at any time, and the consequences are devastating.

The total batting collapse must be the captain’s worst nightmare, other than realising he has no-one to do teas on the morning of the match, or that he has accidentally selected Paul Sibley to boost his teams fielding ability. A procession of the finest talent at his disposal has been hand picked in anticipation of runs a plenty but is instead producing a scene more reminiscent of Saving Private Ryan, batsman running around blindly grabbing at bats and protective equipment and cries of ‘f****** hell’ ringing out from the changing room as the crack of ball on stump can be heard like shells exploding left, right and centre. This kind of display can really drive a captain to start pulling their hair out (which could be why John Monk only lasted half a season in charge of the third team). One only needs to look at the transformation of Mr Matt Wallace from mild mannered man at the beginning of his stint as second team captain to the hat throwing, expletive uttering curmudgeon we saw at the end of the two years. This ‘incredible hulk’ like change can only be put down to constantly having to walk to the crease under pressure at 100–4 or in extreme cases 40–4 and have to single handedly pull the side out of the mire.

Matt is not the only 2’s captain that has had to deal with batting collapses. New incumbent Stuart Elliott is only 6 or 7 games into his tenure as skipper has already had to witness three such batting collapses, the most alarming coming last week with a vomit inducing first over leaving the score at 1-3 (Later to recover to the awe inspiring 6-5). The first team have also experienced this feeling fairly recently when no-one could seem to hold up the Woodford Wells bowling and the whole team were dismissed for under 120. Of course its not just the Leigh that can fold like an fat bloke after being hit by a Ricky Hatton body shot, the panic can grip any team at any time in any place. A pumped up James Braithwaite reduced Hadleigh from 116-4 to 124-8 last season. And ‘Nandralone’ Braithers had Orsett on the ropes at 50-5 the following week.

International sides can witness these alarming tumbles of wickets too. Current England test match captain Michael Vaughan’s first taste of International cricket was in South Africa at the Wanderers when he walked out to face Allan Donald with England in the much less than lordly position of 2-4. In a recent Test in New Zealand Mohammed Sami ripped through the home team to rocket them from 127-5 to 131 all out. Even the true great teams experience it, the Australian team of the early 90’s reads like a who’s who of great batting talent, but a team that consisted of Boon, Taylor, Langer, Waugh, Martyn, Border and Healy was torn apart by a pop gun New Zealand attack lead by ‘Is that Shoaib Akhtar? No its Danny Morrison’ Danny Morrison, leaving the mighty canary yellow boys in deep canary poop at 48-6.

How do you stop these seismic shifts in a match? The truth is no-one really knows, you can be skiing along peacefully with your two openers in, crashing the ball to all parts of whatever lovely ground you happen to be frequenting that day until suddenly someone coughs too loudly and boom the whole mountain is moving and your side is half buried in the avalanche. Many people seek answers in superstition, remaining in the same chair or refusing to change the umpires if the wickets suddenly stop falling, as if the slightest movement or change in surroundings will trigger another landslide. Others rub lucky beads / horseshoes / rabbits feet to ensure that the side reach three figures smoothly. Former captains chuckle that it is someone else that now has to cope with the failing of the team rather than themselves, and former former captains just sit in the corner rocking slightly muttering the word ‘application’ over and over again until someone offers them another pint.

The pain and the suffering ...

2007-06-22T01:49:00.001-07:00

Cricket, it’s the game we play, the game we all love…..however…..from time to time events unfold that lead us to question whether this ‘love’ is perhaps misplaced. Would we be better off playing golf or maybe lawn bowls (we’d still get to wear whites!). Would these games humiliate us in the same way cricket does? Many say that cricket is a cruel mistress, I would go slightly further and say that cricket is a cruel mistress that has just emptied our bank account, cut up our ties and callously murdered our pet goldfish.

Cricket can be truly heartless, in almost all areas of the game you are under pressure and at any moment the cricket gods can swoop in and pull your pants down. As a batsman the next ball you could be out in any number of shameful ways, as a bowler the next ball could be dispatched back over your head (bowlers who are unfortunate enough to be bowling to Waller have a very much heightened fear of that), and as a fielder the next ball you could mis-field, drop a catch or just generally fail to do the job you have been put there to do.

A dropped catch is possibly the most embarrassing of these mistakes, after all even Monty Panesar knows that ‘catches win matches’. The bowler has strained every sinew, sent down a ball that has fooled the batsman into a false shot (more likely is that someone has bowled a great big juicy long hop that in a frenzied attempt to smite to the another hemisphere the batsman has hit in the air). All you have to do is……catch it. Of course this is always easier said than done. Even people who are paid to play every week drop easy chances, everyone can recall Hershelle Gibbs contriving to drop Steve Waugh (what is he good for) in the ’99 world cup, or even more recently Shane Warne dropping Kevin Pietersen at the Oval in ’05 when the ‘Englishman’ went on to score a hundred to secure the famous series. In recent weeks the spectre of dropped catches has raised its ugly head again. The second team has been especially afflicted by them recently. 6 catches went down against Orsett, Messers Willson and Wallace put down one each against Westcliff, both batsman going on to get 50, and possibly the easiest catch so far this season was put down by ‘pea sheller’ Brown this week (closely followed by the second easiset catch that also went down in the very next over). There is also the game in which Richard dropped the same first team batsmen three times on his way to a hundred, and chances going to Damian going down that are too numerous to mention.

There is absolutely nothing that anyone can say to lift someones spirits after a dropped catch, words of encouragement and various ‘head up’ comments make that horrible sick feeling go away. They fester. I’m sure right now we can all think of at least 5 catches we have dropped that really hurt. These things not only aggravate and annoy, they also simply humiliating and the caning in store after the game is almost worse than the act itself.

Possibly the only thing to rival a dropped catch in terms of sheer gut-wrenching embarrassment is the golden duck. Having secured the company of the LOSCC duck award for the 2005 season myself, (although none of the contributing 0’s was a first baller) I can say without fear of contradiction that it’s a game is a lonely place with a zero against your name. It’s also not the best idea to declare before any game that you have yet to record a duck for x amount of games, the cricketing gods are a fickle bunch and any undue bravado on your behalf is liable to bring the lightning fork of justice crashing into your stumps along with the ball. At Ardleigh Green last season a Leigh batting display was coming apart at the seams (as it the normal way of these things) and as Ben Giles strapped his pads on he was heard to remark “I havent had a duck all season”. Little did he know that far above him the cricket gods (longer on memory than Brian Pettitt and bigger on sense of humour than Simon Wallace in Wickford’s away dressing room) had collectively begun rubbing their hands together with glee at another scalp in the offing. And Lo did it come to pass that first ball Ben’s middle stump was unceremoniously ripped from the turf much to the amusement of a) his team mates, because there is nothing funnier to onlookers than someone who has just said they haven’t got a duck getting one, and b) the cricket gods who chuckled to themselves before skipping off to another ground to seek out another victim.

Add in mis-fields, running a team mate out and having your bowling thrashed all around the place this is surely a game for masochists with a very high pain threshold, and I for one say, just bring it!

Do we need a Messiah?

2007-06-14T05:01:00.000-07:00

It is a fairly universal rule that every cricket team needs at least one player that is a little bit different from the rest. I don't mean someone that bats with no gloves on or can only take to the field once he has sacrifised a small animal of some kind, I mean someone that can, to coin a particularly hackneyed phrase, 'turn a game'. These players can turn a certain bore draw at Benfleet or Stanford into an easy victory by smashing a swashbuckling 70 or bagging 4 quick wickets. These players are like gold dust. We all remember their names from times past:

Warne
Botham
Richards
Muralitharan
Akram
Marshall
Gilchrist
Thorpe

Performers of this ilk have an even more devastating effect in club cricket. In the International arena the players are all extremely talented, with only a hairs breadth between someone right on their game and someone just off the pace. In club cricket the gap between the best player and the rest can be as wide as a Steve Harmison loosener. This is why it matters more being able to call on a 'Messiah' (for want of a better word you understand) to come in and, from time to time, bale out the side.

For a local club an overseas player is always handy to have (Ray Clarence excluded) and looking back on the recent past of Leigh the names speak for themselves: Maynard, Bryan, Adelaine and Villani et al they have all been big performers for the Leigh cause. They also provide a little bit of glamour with a weird accent a different outlook on life and possibly differing social attitudes (I'm sure we all know by now what Maynard did on that girls face)

There are dangers in having one big performers for the side though; the rest of the team can if they are not careful grow to rely on these players for all the runs and all the wickets. Hadleigh's first team is a case in point, de-Gandhi the buggers and they would struggle to bat their way out of a fruit pastilles packet (although Tim Lowes does have a very shiny bat, pity he cant tuck his shirt in, scruffy ****) Other players can also feel slightly inferior to their more glamorous big hitting colleagues. It is difficult to think about the strange relationship between John Monk and Simon Wallace without it becoming clear that one is grossly intimidated by the others style and calm assurance at the crease, to add to his malaise Simon also possibly feels slightly jealous of the broad accent and the whiplash square cut. It is a normal human emotion to feel valued and we all want to have our contribution noted. Just watching Stubby in the club after he gets any score over 40 to see how true that is.

The 'Messiah' sometimes has the more positive effect of inspiring others to try to match the ‘Messiah's' attributes and performances. There seems to be more of a buzz around the club when an overseas player is around. In the same way that we try to copy our heroes as kids, imitation, even amongst adults, is still the sincerest form of flattery (psychotic stalkers aside).

The 'art' of sledging

2007-06-12T02:53:00.001-07:00

This weeks most talked about topic at Leigh on Sea has got to be the ‘art’ of sledging. I use the word ‘art’ under advisement from self appointed sledgemaster Dave Clarke. It is still an issue that divides opinion. At what level of cricket is sledging ok? Are there players you shouldn’t try to provoke? As Sean Elliott can now testify younger and younger players are attempting to put the batsman off his stride (and as again Sean can testify, given the right batsman it works).

What kind of tactics can fielders use to strike doubt into the mind of the batsman?

Again I will use words quoted to me ‘Take the most obscure insult in your mind, multiply it by 5 and then say it……..or if you cant think of anything obsure just call him a ~~~~’. Is this the best way of distracting a batsman though? Another member of the club has been known to use the bore batsman out through inane conversation with the opposing crease occupier. Asking a range of banal questions from ‘How much did your bat cost?’ through ‘What kind of toothpaste do you use’ and ‘Whats the fastest bowler you’ve ever faced’ to the watery grave of ‘If you were trapped in a room with only a set of nail clippers and a banana how would you escape?’. I know of one batsman that actually spontaneously combusted out of sheer frustration.

Fast bowlers also have a fine way with words, in a test match in the West Indies legendary quick Malcolm Marshall was bowling to David Boon who had played and missed a few, Marshall asked Boon "Now David, Are you going to get out now or am I going to have to bowl around the wicket and kill you?"

The sledging in today’s game is not strictly the field of wicketkeepers and fast bowlers, batsman can also deliver telling words to those attempting to knock them over. One famous tale comes from a Sunday game against Wickford and their South African fast bowler Mr Quinton Friend. Mr Friend was being particularly unfriendly to our top order using speed and accuracy in a completely unneccessary destruction of our main run scorers. Tim Hewitt, who had been watching the carnage from the non strikers end without a helmet on, found himself on strike to the speedster. Hewitt then smashed the South African back over his head and whilst the South African gave him the fast bowler stare, Tim then informed Quinton that ‘I’m a third team player, if you cant get me out you must be s***’

Another example of this is again from a Test match this time Australia vs New Zealand . Adam Parore who was relatively new to cricket came to the crease played & missed the first ball. Mark Waugh who was standing at second slip said "Ohh, I remember you from a couple years ago in Australia . You were s*** then, you ' re f***ing useless now". Parore- (Turning around replied) "Yeah, that ' s me & when I was there you were going out with that old, ugly sl*t & now I hear you ' ve married her. You dumb **** ".

You can always sledge the fielders themselves back if they are giving it to you, batsman have been known to punch the ball past a fielder and yell out ‘there’s two there that fat f*** cant run’

Sledging is seemingly here to stay, so either put up, shut up or get sledging!

The Voice

The view from silly point

2007-05-21T03:00:00.000-07:00

This week I got a fairly detailed glimpse of the view to be had fielding very close to the bat. During the game several people got similar experiences in fact. It has led me to want to assess the various ways people deal with fielding in close to the bat, in the so called ‘danger area’.

Now obviously these positions call for bravery in no small amount, you are in fact standing about 10 yards away from somewhere wearing a lot of padding who ‘more often than not’ has the ability to hit the ball at around 60-90 mph in your direction. In normal life you would be avoiding circumstances where you are putting yourself in harms way like this.

The problem on the cricket field is when the captain says ’go into a silly mid-off’ you have to either be
a) a fairly brave fellow and say ‘no’
b) a fairly stupid fellow and say ‘no’,
c) a member of the captains’ family and have a quiet word / plea / threat for him to think again, or d) shut your mouth, clench, and stride manfully to your destiny.

Most of us pick d), possibly thinking that having seen Ian Bell / Ricky Ponting produce stunning one handed salmon like diving catches close in, we can do the same. Or more probably thinking that a month full of receiving our team mates wrath at being too gutless to go in close is much worse than any potential injury we could face.

Once we are positioned, as close as we dare, then the real problems begin. There is a story told of the fearless Yorkshire opening batsmen Brian Close (think Pickles but balder and more Yorkshire). Fielding in close at the shortist of short covers in a county game, when a full bloodied cover drive was hit straight at him, the ball struck him in the forehead deflecting it up into the air, whereupon he was remarkably heard to shout ‘catch it!!’ The catch was taken in the slips and when his team mates surrounding their captain asked what would have happened had it hit him slightly lower, he replied, ‘Well, t’catch would have gone t’gully rather than t’slips’.

While I am not suggesting for a moment that we should field in such a cavalier way, here are a few other options:

The Brian: Get a lid on and get in the batsman’s face, if you have time actually start walking in towards the batsman just to get a tiny bit closer. Don’t worry about catching the ball, you will be much more distracting this way. Look very disappointed when the ball is hit past you as if in a fairer world the batsman would be walking back, then drop any chances that might come your way.

The David: Chat away inanely at the batsman, hopefully this will drive him into a mental state rivalling that of an unhinged serial killer, until he either attempts to smash the ball at you and gets caught (hopefully by someone else) or gets bowled attempting to clear the pavilion (imagining the ball is your head, visualisation is the key here)

The Clark: Stay as still as possible. Don’t move at all. If you move you may just move into the path of the ball. (This tactic works best when wearing a helmet, otherwise it looks a bit silly when you are writhing in pain after getting hit)

The Richard: Like ‘The David’ but your method of putting the batsman off is more subversive. By playing with your crotch as much as possible, you can distract to a whole new level. If at all possible try to catch the eye of the batsmen before you do this, this just puts that little bit of doubt in his mind, as to whether you will flash him a red ball just as the bowler is about to deliver another.

Another aspect of ‘The Richard’ is that self preservation is your major objective, and shame is not a concept you should think about. Don’t be afraid to throw yourself on the floor when the batsman draws his bat back aggressively. Any shame on you for being in the fetal position as the ball loops over you after it deflects off his pad up in the air, is nothing compared to being hit. Even if all other close fielders are still standing as this happens, it is because they are stupid and you are wise.