I really didn't want to have to do this.

Let me explain. Geography (bienvenue, Glasgow) and the demands of having to work for a living mean that I only get down to see games about once a month. Sky and the internet radio have to make up the rest. So I try and take a positive view when I can actually be here. And you know, last live game of the season, first match report and all, I was really hoping to be able to report a good win. A fluky win. A close loss. To be honest, anything but this.

Because today, we were awful.

Not disastrously awful. Not bowled out in twenty overs awful, or anything like that. Just limper than the lettuce in a Big Mac. When we needed to be Sarah Palin, we only managed Alistair Darling.

Sigh. I should get on with it, shouldn't I. I apologise for the length; I just have so much to whinge about. Indulge me.

Shaggy won the toss and bowled. A fair shout, in the circumstances; it drizzled on and off during the Notts innings and it was pretty murky when they came out. Nannes' initial overs were... moderate. The difficulty was Murtagh, who bowled as if hungover and went for 21 off 2 overs. Scott in desperation stood up to him during the second over, but unfortunately, the Middlesex Pie Shop then opened for business at both ends and Jefferson and Swann made the most of the offering of juicy four balls. Murtagh was eventually yanked unceremoniously out of the attack in favour of Henderson, who did slightly better.

I should note at this point re conditions that there was rain in the air and the light was rotten; I've been down brighter coalmines. But the Notts openers looked very assured and seven overs in, hadn't given a decent chance between them. Middlesex looked so uninterested in the field that I wasn't sure if they actually knew they could be relegated. They may though just have been knackered from the bewildering array of field changes they were put through.

I appreciate Shaggy's only been in charge for two games, but he has played with this team all season. He should by now have some idea of what their best fielding positions are; he doesn't seem to be sure of this. He was sending catchers out to the boundary when the spinners were on, but not Morgan who is our most assured catcher in the deep; very odd. There seemed to be a lack of a plan of how to get out any batsman during the Notts innings. I don't know whether homework on opposing batsmen - technique, known weaknesses and suchlike - just isn't being done, but Shaggy's tactics today mostly consisted of shifting the fielders aimlessly around and throwing the ball to the quicks and hoping for the best. Quite the contrast with the Notts fielding, but we'll come back to that.

Murtagh was brought back in the ninth over; we still unbelievably hadn't generated a single chance. This was slightly better from Tim; more sausage rolls than actual pies. Suddenly the fielders snapped to life and Malan conjured a run out for a desperately-needed wicket. The highlight of the game then followed; a small blonde child ran onto the field carrying drinks and bananas. No, not Adam London, but the mascot, who was our best performer on the day. The lads were energised by their bananas and Murtagh strung together a decent second spell, picking up a couple of wickets, with the extremely vocal encouragement of Scott, who seemed to be trying to cheer him up.

By now Tim's figures were quite respectable, camouflaging the shocking nature of his first two overs. My heart sank when Prince came to the wicket; I feared he would bat until Lords was in darkness and hell froze over. Surprisingly, he offered a chance early on which flew between keeper and slip. The light improved, Henderson bowled well... and the rain began.

Play continued as Daria and I sought refuge in the Long Room, muttering that we had been off most of Friday and Saturday for conditions no worse than those we were currently playing in. Patel and Prince scored very slowly whilst Daria chastised me for my sartorial choices (fishnets are completely appropriate attire for the Long Room) and elderly gentlemen blocked my view of Steven Finn. The rain went off, we went back out, Nannes came back and lo and behold, a wicket. Oh joy, oh rapture, 76 for 4, were we at last going to win a game?

You could have cut the tension with a marshmallow as Shaggy brought himself and Kartik on to try and drive down the run rate. Owais took a good catch to remove Prince, but to be honest I was increasingly bored by this time and was amusing myself trying to discern some sort of I-Ching like pattern to Shaggy's field changes, the principal result of which was to make Joyce pout like a five year old on the boundary. By the 27th over, I was bored of admiring Joyce's sulking too and fell to admiring Read's captain's knock: 109 for 5, 13 overs left, and blocking every ball. Play proceeded in this manner for a while, Notts unable to get the ball off the square, and Nannes brought back into the attack.

It was at about this time that I was astounded to catch sight of the official club captain in the pavilion, a man as difficult to shift as a cold sore. I find his persistent attendance in the dressing room on match days extremely difficult to comprehend, particularly now that he is confirmed as out for the season. Whether or not the Times rumours of his sacking are true, I have to say that if I was off work sick for an extended period of time, the last thing that whichever of my colleagues covering for me would find helpful would be for me to limp into work and rasp in their ear "You don't wanna do that; you wanna do this". I expect I would be sent sharply on my way, and it is difficult to see how Smith's conduct this season has assisted both the stand-in captains.

In the 34th over, Henderson removed that batting titan Read, and the impetus of the Notts late innings with him. Some people who weren't me appeared to be enjoying the game, judging from the tuneless rendition of "Championes" emanating from elsewhere in the ground. Must be Notts fans. Must be taking strong drink. We bowled pretty well at the end, cleaning up the tail thanks to some good catching from Malan and Joyce and a run-out off the last ball.

By the time our innings began, I had goosebumps where none should be thanks to the marvellous weather and was hoping for a decent run-chase to 181 to keep me warm. I shouldn't have got my hopes up; from the first over of the Notts innings it was clear that these were much, much better bowling conditions that we had made them look.

Joyce's first act on taking the field had been to complain about the light, and he did have something of a point. But Notts had managed in the gloom. At least Joyce can take some comfort from the fact that Udal seems even less able to conjure a decent performance from the squad. Increasingly, they look like a bunch with one eye on Antigua and the other on their holidays. But returning to a point of earlier, Read had a plan. He had Krusty the Clown - er, sorry, Charlie Shreck come round the wicket to our lefties and every one of them struggled with that. Every one. Also, Read puts his fielders where he wants them to be and the bowlers bowl to the field, not the other way around.

I know, I know, Shaggy's only been in charge a week, etcetera... but. It demonstrates a level of preparedness, a level of tactical forethought, that we just didn't show today and that our new director of cricket will have to instil in us if we want to go back to the big league. Where was I? Ah yes, the customary limp Middlesex batting display. This is beyond depressing now. These are good, talented players. They really are. But they appear to be going backwards rather improving. Is a specialist batting coach needed for next season to help them move their games to the next level? Is this something that the Messiah - I mean, the new Director of Cricket needs to consider?

I must give Notts their due though; they got plenty out of the new ball and generated numerous chances. The quality of the Notts tactics and the ability of their bowlers to implement them is best illustrated by this: of the recognised Middlesex batsmen, only Morgan wasn't out either bowled or LBW. Strauss was lbw in the 13th over, Shreck ended his sport with a thoroughly miserable-looking Joyce not long after he cracked a superb couple of boundaries, and Owais... well.

England have kept the real Owais and sent us Ian Bell in disguise. Ace came in in the 5th over, and by the beginning of the 12th, still hadn't summoned a single run. The light was failing, and the Duckworth-Lewis kept getting away from us. Shah and Morgan, the two finest stroke players in the side, couldn't get the ball off the square. It was like an Ingmar Bergman film, but with extra cricket. Notts were simply rattling through their overs thanks to fewer field changes: they got through 14 in 45 minutes. Shah and Morgan finally opened up a bit, and both played some beautiful shots. There was only a hint of our traditional suicidal running. Someone needs to sit Eoin down and explain that not everyone in the team is as jet-heeled as him. Owais departed lbw in the 17th over and Eoin was joined by Malan.

Then, it all went to hell.

Morgan, who was well set and had played some beautiful, clever shots, strolled down the wicket, flicked an innocuous pie from Ealham high into the air, and gave Adams catching practice in the deep. Now, Morgan is a truly special player, with a truly special range of shots and the ability to execute seemingly any of them at will. Morgan in full flow is a glorious, matchwinning sight. But this is not the first time this season that his brain has gone missing at a crucial interval in the match and left us royally screwed. His shot selection at times is incomprehensible, even - especially - when well set. He is in danger of turning into a small Irish Michael Slater. He is very young still, but he needs to be taught to be more responsive to match situations. We were chasing a reasonable total with him well set, and only two recognised batsmen to come in after him. I'll only say that some top-level coaching would probably help him with this, and then move on, because he did play exceptionally up to that point.

From then on in, the depressingly familiar writing was on the wall for us. The light brightened right up, depriving us of the faint hope that the rain and darkness would bring the pain to an early end. Malan perished to a pice of shot selection that I can't even bring myself to describe. Swann came on, we were behind Duckworth-Lewis again (don't even ask about the run rate. No, really, don't.) and the trudge to defeat began. Henderson hit a few crowd-pleasing sixes (strong drink was being taken in quantities by this point, judging by the singing), got out in the 30th over to Patel, but the game had been obviously lost since the Morgan hara-kiri. Scott and Udal struggled along for a while, before Udal was caught and bowled by Swann, the ultimate indignity. Murtagh came in, but I must admit by now I was too weary of the mediocrity to pay much attention. A shambolic, primary school run out between Kartik and Nannes ended the match and put everyone out of their misery.

I'm sorry. I tried to be positive, I really did. But it seems like the end of the season can't come quickly enough for the team. It certainly can't come quickly enough for the rest of us.

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