BHCC v The Wild Oats - 27th June 2010 - Match Report

Babington’s ‘Hollywood Summer’ continued with a thumping Twenty20 victory over The Wild Oats on a day of quintessential Englishness; of course we lost the footie to Germany and the hopes of a nation were crushed during ninety minutes of abject failure, but beyond that the vibrant colours of Glastonbury lit-up the West Country already basking in the most joyous of summer days and Babington was quite simply at its picture-postcard best.

We started early, still full of wide-eyed optimism, convinced the three lions would roar and I even had New Order’s ‘World in Motion’ blaring out of the Beamer on my way through the leafy lanes of Somerset. In the back seats with the roof down, my daughters and their friends were quite naturally horrified!!! Oh Christ – I really am an eighties-Dad after all!!!

Cruising down the Babington drive with the girls on their feet, it was apparent that this was going to be one of those very special days that cricketers the world over dream of; Matt Ellis was fiddling with the deckchairs still on a high from Muse’s admittedly spectacular set the previous evening, excited kids ran around in football tops and the Babington lawns were packed with roasting guests sipping Pimms and reading the papers.

What more could we ask for?

Well to win the toss for one, but Lizzie’s feeble flick of the coin came down tales and after a nudge in the right direction, The Wild Oats captain, Richard Buxton, bravely invited us to bat. Result. Julian Matthews and Stephen Priscott, both in prime form, donned the pads and got us off to a flyer even against some accurate bowling from Gouriet and Griffiths. After three whacked fours, Priscott holed out to cover and the already imperious Matthews was joined by the ever-elegant Johnny Barran who proceeded to demonstrate the coaching manual as if written by Sir Jack Hobbs himself; elbow to the angels, helmeted head immaculately still and the ball barely leaving Clive’s manicured carpet. It was something of a surprise when he too was caught swishing for one of the most stylish ten’s you will ever see!

No matter at the other end, an innings of breathtaking brilliance was unfolding. Julian Matthews is a fearless batsman who lives and dies by his Gray Nichols blade and it was as if the Gods were on his side. His savage driving sent the ball sailing deep into the bean field whilst one murderous pull landed over 20 yards into the tennis court. His knock though was not just about raw power and an exquisite cut through point demonstrated his exceptional technique; a quickish ball got big on him just outside off-stump only for Jules to rock back on his twinkling toes before sending the ball rasping to the boundary. It truly was the shot of the day and one that even had Mr. Barran purring with appreciation.

Julian cruised past fifty in a flurry of sixes whilst Andrew Standen-MacDougal thrashed hard at the other end. The tins were rattling along at ten an over before Andrew was caught for 13. Without a run to my name this season, it was a relief to get off the mark and despite playing cat and mouse with the fielders, I scratched a piss-poor 30 odd and watched green-eyed as Julian reached a deserved and memorable century. He hit seven sixes and eight fours in one of the best innings ever played on our beautiful ground and the applause he received from all and sundry following his retirement was heartfelt. Congratulations Julian, it was a pleasure to watch and thrilling that your sons were present too.....

With 182 on the board, we were never going to lose especially as we had one of the strongest bowling attacks I can ever remember. Ben Tollworthy’s four overs were superb and he beat the bat on umpteen occasions before finding an edge that sailed through a non-existence first for four. Lord Jolliffe, revelling in the early start, put it (largely) on the spot as usual, but as often is the case, it was rank half-tracker that saw the end of the dangerous looking Hunt for a quickfire 20.

Barran replaced the inexplicably wicketless Tollworthy and sent down two miserly overs of cutters, and swingers to be rewarded by the scalp of someone who is named in the scorebook as Eke! At the other end, Andrew Standen Mac. bowled with similar variety and rolled back the years with a brace including M. Buxton for a solid 28, whilst the ever smooth James MacKenzie castled Richard Buxton with a beauty.

We were fielding superbly and the chitter-chatter was genuinely amusing as Mark Cadbury in particular became ever more vocal. However, the champagne moments of the day were provided by Rory Cadbury, just twelve and with a cherubic smile that will be his Amex credit card throughout his future life, he bowled three exceptional over’s down the hill against batsman all intent on smashing him to oblivion. The sheer joy of watching Rory run to the wicket with his starlight smile etched on his young face touched us all and it was wonderful when he found E. Buxton’s feathered edge gleefully snaffled by Matt Ellis. He then knocked over Griffiths and finished with figures of 2 for 9 from his spell reminding us all of the bygone thrill of playing cricket as innocent boys.

Not to be overshadowed by his son, Mark took the ball for the last over and promptly yorked a bemused Adrian Leng with a searing deliver that would have troubled most. Normal service was quickly resumed and he was clattered for a couple of fours enabling The Wild Oats to limp past the hundred much to the disgust of the uber-competitive Ellis behind the timbers. The finished on 110 and Babington can be pleased with a thrilling performance of attacking cricket typified by an inspiring display in the field; Matthews bagged a couple of skiers and Priscott nonchalantly held on to a hard, flat skimmer on the boundary.

It really was ‘our day’ and, as we wandered over to the House, it was a delight to take our tea alongside jugs of foaming ale with the spoils already in the bag. Anticipation in the bar was palpable as our boys kicked off in South Africa, but it was not long before most of us retired to the hazy sanctuary of the lawns preferring to bask in the sun than have our souls sunk in the bar.

With the kids running hither and thither sipping Shirley Temples, the WAGs providing a dash of glamour and the bar tab rising, we all shared a truly lovely few hours hanging out under the watchful eye of the most majestic of houses telling our stories and puffing fags.

I’ve said it before, but really, guys it does not get any better than this.....

Thanks to one and all for a perfect English summer’s day......

Oh, except for the bloody football..... Tossers!