Humbug's Blog - Pieterson Free Zone

Humbug's Blog - Pieterson Free Zone

My Birthday

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There is a mythology, language and culture about cricket that does make it different from all other sports, especially if the sun shines. Where else would a Serbo-German yanked from the pub on a Friday night to make up the numbers but in village cricket. Milo was inevitably run out without facing a ball and stood rigid to the spot where he was told to field. Well done to Dumb and Dumber for their unusual recruitment.

Despite my continuing rants and frustrations at the senior teams we field and this weekend being a new low, I was strangely proud of the club on Saturday. Val's efforts in the kitchen produced another sumptuous tea, the ground looked beautiful and the wicket played well. We had a very make shift cosmopolitan team with a better one unavailable for varying unconvincing reasons. That was their loss. Toddy the Tank Engine and the less than fragrant Greg Double Vodka provided the entertainment as we played with fun and joy against the inappropriately named 'Great' Kingshill. Their sledging was reported to be of Aussie standards in the second division of a very mediocre league. Double fielded in his socks, sliding to save boundaries with the abandon of one who knows he will not be responsible for the washing. He took the only catch, a steepling one and ripped off his shirt in joy a la a pink, fat Balotelli. A high pitch 'common Hurley' echoed from wee David Morgans as the rather large hawk perched on the sightscreen eyed him up. All this rescued an otherwise crap birthday, and I got cake and beer.

The early optimism I had at the beginning of the year has long evaporated, or should I say frozen in this extended ice age we called spring and summer. The Test series in NZ did little to stir my juices, though Australia's travails always cheers, especially when they made the suggestion that NZ should be absorbed as the 7th State to bolster the Aussie Ashes challenge. Even they, like us have selection issues.

No white smoke has risen from the committee on membership, the senior side of our administration is steeped in myopia while the colts section displays energy and enthusiasm representative of their youth. Recent minutes show that committee is more concerned with who sells the Mars Bars than applying themselves on membership. Ironically we make plans to invest in more ground equipment while less seniors use the facilities. Maybe I am being a little unfair. A couple of the Colt's Dads have made debuts but we still struggle to field sides. I have a manic chuckle how the club hopes to have the semblance of being competitive and this year we are already trimming our senior fixtures. Like a fat busters high jump contest we set the bar low, happy to put 11 bodies in the field.

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