Cancellation Culture

One single, solitary game; that's all summer 2020's Tynemouth Bad Boys cricket season consisted of.....

 

We started up our long-running, Monday night six-a-side game again on July 20^th. First time out, bearing in mind I’m 56 and we’d not played since March 17^th or thereabouts, I wasn’t exactly agile, or even competent, between the sticks. However, we’ve played 5 successive Mondays since then and finally, on August 17^th, I felt like I knew what I was doing once more; we lost 4-1, but none of the goals were preventable, much less my fault and I pulled off a dozen saves, some of which were more than just instinctive blocks. I suppose the point I’m trying to make is that after a long period of inactivity, even the best of us (which I’m not) can lose their touch and only practise can bring it back. So far, so good in my quest to play until I turn 60.

 There is a stark contrast between my football and my cricket playing experiences this summer. Initially I’d not imagined we would play any cricket in 2020, so it was a lovely surprise when the greatest game returned on July 11^th. Even better, the NEMWCL announced that, while league cricket was not feasible at that stage, cup competitions would go ahead, giving all sides a theoretical minimum of 2 games and a maximum of 5. The main competition is the Just Sport Cup, which 24 of the 28 teams took part in, with the 12 winners advancing to round 2 and the 12 losers dropping into the Paddlers’ Plate. Interestingly, unlike most captains who tend to think along the lines of whether to bat of bowl, this year’s Bad Boys skipper Dan Storey’s first thought always seems to be “should we concede?” He inquired as such after our first attempt to play our round 1 cup tie at home to Belmont Tigers was rained off on July 23^rd. He asked again when Belmont initially refused to play the following Thursday, as it was the end of Eid and they were celebrating. Thankfully, league supremo Don Catley intervened, and the game went ahead on July 30^th.

Despite Belmont being from the division below us, they won easily; their 122/3 far outweighing our 90/9. Speaking personally, my personal performance was a disaster; a disgraceful, humiliating parody of cricket. I bowled one over at the cost of 20 runs, the only consolation being their scorer didn’t catch my name, so I’m down on the Play Cricket scorecard as Unsure. Perhaps that summarises my bowling performance more gently than Incompetent or Shit. It could have been a bit different of course; having been clouted for 3 boundaries by their big boned and big mouthed wicketkeeper batsman, I bowled one ever slower than usual, which is the nearest I ever come to a plan. Sure enough, he races down the pitch and hits it straight up in the air. He doesn’t initially try to run; whether because he thinks it’s over the rope or a catch, I don’t know. It really should have been a catch, which is how I’d imagined the scenario panning out, but the ball fell between two stationary fielders and the batsmen ran 2. The last ball goes for 6, obviously, and I go off to self-recriminate at Backward Point.

It didn’t get much better when I came to the crease. Bear in mind I scored 6 runs in 2018 and 2 runs in 2019, there was little tangible reason for promoting me to 10, other than the fact Benno hadn’t got his pads on. Normally my innings are as brief as my scoring is negligible; this time I faced a marathon 7 balls. The first four I missed completely, the fifth I somehow hit back to the bowler, who missed it and so I called the skipper through for a run. Clearly the fielding side knew the best way to go about wrapping things up, so they tried to run Dan out, not me. Somehow it didn’t happen and, not only was I off the mark, I’d successfully farmed the strike. Next over, the first ball sailed past me, as I didn’t even see it. The next one I saw, took a swing and missed by a mile, hand to eye co-ordination being tough at my age. I didn’t just miss the ball though; I fell over, landing face first, before attempting to right myself and successfully taking the arse in a gesture unlikely to be replicated anywhere in a sporting context ever again. When I opened my eyes, still prone on the deck, I knew I’d more than likely been stumped at some point during the intervening 30 seconds, though the scorecard erroneously lists me as being caught behind. As if… Creeping sheepishly from the field to gales of derisive laughter from my team mates, I cast a backwards glance at Benno belting the first two balls he faced for maximums. Still, at least my performance gave me something to reflect on, other than the scandalous £5.50 The Spread is charging for Beavertown…

Having ended our Just Sport Cup involvement, we dropped into the Paddlers’ Plate, to face Eaga Odd Boys, who play home games on a Tuesday at Seaton Burn, with ours scheduled for 4^th August. Typically, in a summer that took ages for cricket to arrive, bad weather has become an increasing menace, meaning another postponement for rain was not unexpected. The really glorious thing about the rearranged date, a week later, was that it was my birthday. As a nod to my team mates’ unflagging support, I splashed out on 4 bottles of Prosecco for a pre and post-game toast. Then, things went rapidly down hill as Captain Storey lobbied for concession rather than replacements as 5 of the team dropped out. The bitter irony was that they dropped out to go and see Sam Fender at this socially-distanced arena by the Racecourse. Not only were they within 2 miles of Seaton Burn CC, but Tinfoil’s nephew had cancelled just about every gig he should have played in the last year!! This one went ahead, Eaga understandably wouldn’t reschedule, so the skipper got what he wanted, a 0% win rate, and our season was over after a single measly game. If I’d known the cricket season was going to be so miserable and unfulfilling, I’d sooner have died of Covid-19 in the Spring. If I don’t succumb to the virus this winter, I hope to be making a complete show of myself in 2021.

Thankfully, there’s been plenty of stuff to watch, mainly involving Tynemouth, to keep my mind occupied. Saturday July 25^th saw the start of the Banks Salver North Group, with the visit of Newcastle to Preston Avenue. Unlike the previous week at Jesmond in the Smithson Cup final, there was to be no pulverising assault by the visitors. With a celebrity pair of umpires in Phil Mustard and Chris Rushworth, our slow bowlers held the opposition in a vice-like grip; Polly got the prize scalps of Oli Hairs and Kieran Trevaskis as part of a 2-14 return, while Mark Watt and Ryan Macciocchi posted 1-12 and 3-28 respectively. After Newcastle fell to 156 all out, skipper Matty Brown and former skipper Ben Debnam put on 154 for the first wicket, with Ben chipping in with a tremendous 79 before a daft run out, allowing Ben McGee to post a stylish 0* from 0 balls, as we won by 9 wickets with 17 and a bit overs to spare. This early finish allowed me to pop over the back field and watch the 3s snatch defeat from the jaws of victory against Blagdon.

On the Sunday, being at a loose end, I struck out to do some cricket groundhopping. Despite having visited all top division NEPL grounds, I’d only been to half of those in the second division. Two pieces of low-hanging fruit were the proximate double of Crook and Willington, thus I set off early and spent 3 stifling hours in a mask, on the Metro to Gateshead, X21 to Durham and X46 to Crook for the Banks Cup game against Washington. Crook Town’s Millfield is a decaying jewel of the Northern League, while the compact cricket ground is in much better condition. Basic, modernised and quaintly rustic, it’s a good place to watch a game. I saw the home side, older and chunkier than the young, spritely visitors, capitulate from 102/3 to 131 all out. It would have been good to hang around and see how the response went, but I had work to do. This involved another journey on the X46 back to Willington for their game in the same competition against Burnmoor.

 I’ve been to Willington many times for football; the first time involved much confusion when trying to meet up in the pub as there were 2 Black Horses, though the one of them, which still exists, is theoretically in Low Willington, which is the closer to the cricket club, while the other is now a Vape Superstore.  Crook has always seemed to me to be a pretty little market town, while Willington is as friendly and prosperous as Katowice in the early 70s. I’ve no idea of its community value, but I can state Willington Cricket Club is twice the size of Crook CC and an impressively modernised and maintained facility.  It also boasts scenic views of rolling hills beyond the boundary fence. Unlike Crook, they took COVID-19 conspicuously seriously, by taping off benches, denying access to the pavilion, bar the umpires’ bog and only accepting card payments. It didn’t bother me, but I’d like to return when things are back to normal. I plonked my arse on the grass just as Dwight Gayle gave Newcastle the lead against Liverpool, as Burnmoor began their chase of 160. Their batting line-up consisted of more swingers than the St. Mary’s Lighthouse car park after dark, but for every couple of boundaries, a wicket fell and, from a position of strength, the home side won by 9 runs after a suitably calamitous run out, allowing me to catch an earlier X46, X21 and terminal Metro, to end another fabulous day exploring the sporting hinterland of West Durham.

The following Saturday was August 1^st; on the 11^th anniversary of my dad’s passing, it was perhaps appropriate Tynemouth were at Felling. That said, I made initial attempts to watch the first innings at newly promoted Philadelphia against Burnmoor. However, the skies grew increasingly dark and by the time we reached The Galleries, it was bucketing down. I escaped the X1, taking the 56 back to Heworth. A short walk later and I was watching Sean Longstaff collect an impressive 3-23, while his Matty sat watching, often being gently pestered for selfies by bairns in NUFC shirts. Aside from Sean, only Polly showed any control, with 2-16, allowing Felling to recover from 90/6 for 172 all out, including Trotts contributing a first-baller that made me feel better about my batting performance and the lad himself advising they declare 9 down in future.

However, when it came to bowling, I don’t believe I’ve seen Trotts bowl as well as he did in this game. He acted as able support to Paul Leonard who was running through our top order at the other end, by bowling through and looking dangerous with almost every ball. The other Felling bowlers did their bit, while the whole team fielded ferociously as we didn’t get close to the total and they fully deserved their win. Same was true of Newcastle Academy on the Sunday, who got the 173 required with 3 down and 3 overs to go. Nice to see Dan Thorburn contribute a superb 77 for the young side though.

August 8^th was a glorious day, ideal for glorious hitting. Or perhaps not if you were Tynemouth 3s who batted like they were auditioning for a Robert Altman movie, crawling to 90/5 from 30 overs, which Benwell and Walbottle saw off in short order. Thankfully, there was more enjoyment to be found on the front field. Against a modest Gateshead Fell, Tynemouth accumulated 303/4, though Ben Debnam’s first baller didn’t suggest we’d do so well. Luckily Mike Jones, Mark Watt, Ben McGee and David Mansfield were in good form. In response, Gateshead Fell never really threatened, ending up on 191/9. Not that I saw much of it, as the massive queues at the bar saw me called into action, while my colleague Paul Lonnberg bathed, and indeed almost drowned, in a tsunami of Moretti.

Come Sunday, despite the night before’s carousing, I felt the urge to travel again, with distant Lanchester my destination. At Eldon Square bus station, I met Glenn Wallace who was off to Billingham for an NYSD cup game. He admired my desire to travel so far. Let’s face it; anywhere that’s half an hour outside Consett is seriously in the sticks. Mind at least travel broadens the mind; an hour in closed Consett without any sign of a bog was torture in the sunshine. However, the second bus journey was super smooth and with no subsequent navigational issues other than getting off a stop too late, I found the gloriously picturesque Ashley Park without any difficulties, incredibly enough. Despite the distraction of reflected traffic noise from the adjacent A691, Lanchester is a lovely settlement, affluent and consequently unlike most villages of a similar size in County Durham. The home side batted first and made a very steady 192 in a mild breeze that contrasted with the stifling masked atmosphere of the buses. It was more than enough to beat a disappointing Chester le Street who were skittled for 129.  Game over, I took the last Sunday bus to Durham and thence an express to South Shields that appealed to my sense of adventure, allowing the gentle breezes coming in from the North Sea to caress me as I took the Ferry across the water and thence a short walk home. Another tremendous day and only 3 grounds left to go, although Shotley Bridge’s year off make Castle Eden and Philadelphia my only realistic targets.

There were no inroads made the weekend after; instead I enjoyed 3 straight days at Tynemouth. On the Friday night a 20:20 friendly versus Durham Academy took place in dank and miserable conditions, when any NEPL game would not have started. It was a good workout in front of about 200 punters and thus a decent payday for the club, even if the bad weather kept the same amount again away from the place. Personally, I was delighted to meet up with my old pal Dave Jameson, making a solid recovery from cancer, and Michael Noble, who kindly accompanied me to the Enigma Tap for my birthday sup. Before then, Tynemouth had amassed 142, thanks mainly to Graham Clark’s hitting, before dismissing Durham, including 3 first team players, for 68. Thankfully, it was our lads who took the wickets, including 3 in an over by Ryan Macciocchi.

 Unfortunately, not taking all the wickets was the main reason we lost against Benwell Hill on the Saturday. A fairly sedate, stop-start innings saw us close on 147, but a fine unbeaten knock by Peter Halliday and a determined supporting 32 by Phil Nicholson saw The Hill home from the penultimate ball, despite Andrew Smith’s impressive 4-30 in his first game of the season. In the Sunday game, The Hill recovered from 22/4 to beat us with 3 overs to go, though I’d bailed out halfway through, either still suffering from my birthday celebrations or stunned by skipper Richie Hay’s memorable 44* and 2-5 for the 3s in their 80 run win over Kirkley. Fair play to the lad.