There was an Irishman, an Englishman and a Greek……….

 

This should never have been as good as it was, given that result on Friday night rendered it as meaningful as a FIFA Fair Play campaign.  We were there anyway and we would whoop it up out of sheer bloody mindedness. Regular readers are familiar with Big Al my father-in-law who is all seeing and all knowing. For this fixture we were joined by Paul the Greek who has shaken Andy Roberts’ hand. I have a photo of my 2 year old being held by Joel Garner but somehow I think P the G’s claim beats me.  He is simply a 100% emotional Middlesex fan. No logic or stats will deter or waylay him. He is force of nature as far as optimism and Middlesex are concerned.

 

We were decamped 10 miles to the south of Bath in a village called Rode all green remembered hills, Constable and Vaughan Williams (and please forgive the geographical licences). That part of the world always makes me think of William Cowper “England, with all thy faults I love thee still, my country”.  I’m as English as Hippity but you know what I mean.  On the way to the game we passed the almost impossible Wodehousean hamlets of Norton St Phillips, Midsomer Norton and Hinton Charterhouse.  This was going to be good.

 

We arrived at the ground to the all too predictable news that the ‘Sex had lost two wickets.  Not so predictable was Weeksey’s but Ed Smith’s quack was like the sun setting in the east.  Pretty much inevitable these days.

 

 

Post Structuralists Go Wild In the Country

 

I would like at this juncture to subvert the classic structure of the story and go to the whole message and fill in later if that’s alright. In fact I’m going to anyway because I am a post structuralist and that means I can do what I like.  [Editor’s note: around here you can certainly use terms like “post structuralist” and tell us whatever you like about what that term means – we’ll believe you.]

 

The good?  Captain Morgan, The Greatest and all our other bowlers (and I mean all of them). The bad?  Shah’s dismissal and the familiar collapse. The ugly? Just us.     This game was a microcosm of our season so far (save for the result). We got ourselves into positions, then blew it, then recovered, then tried to throw it away.

 

 

The Middlesex Dig

 

After Smith’s dismissal we were going along nicely Compo and Shah.  Then Compo inexplicably lifted one back to long on. I could be kind and say it was a slower one but I don’t think so. I just don’t think it was very clever from a very good young player. 

 

The Scottster came in a looked fine and happy until that spinner bowled him and the travelling Crues were heading for the Pedigree as one.  We didn’t need to know what would happen next.  It had been written already a tragedy in willow and leather.  Ace’s dismissal followed 8 runs later and it was pure pure gick.   I cannot understand Shah. How someone so good can bat so well and make it look so easy and get out like that. He simply paddled a completely innocuous one up to Parsons and we were in mither.

 

After Benbo came saw and went for 10 (when we really really really needed him) the familiar followed.  3 wickets for 1 run and 4 for 14. I had high hopes for Silvers but l should mention Pepsi before then. He doesn’t get my MOTM because of his dismissal. That is the only difference between him and The Greatest.  Pepsi’s was simply a horror show slice. 

 

At this point unbelievable sauntered into centre stage.  We were roundly assailed by the rosy ruddy red faced locals but somehow The Greatest and Captain stayed to the end.  Not only that but The Greatest played it brilliantly.  He let Captain have it every time. 2 thunderous sixes (one they are still looking for) and Big Al prayed for 175, then for 180 and then hope against hope for 200 at least asking 4 an over. 

 

Captain Morgan

 

Unbelievably we got it and more with the icing on the cake Captain’s last ball to get his 50. A word here about this guy. I’ve seen him once before but on Sunday he batted with a maturity that ought to shame his more experienced peers.   He was outstanding keeping his nerve whilst all around people that ought to know better lost theirs. The first decisive contribution in this game. 

 

[Editor’s note: I thought I might spare Janet the trouble to point out that Captain Morgan was in fact named Henry Morgan, not Eoin Morgan.  I hope that helps everybody to enjoy the joke.  Captain Morgan is also a well known brand of rum. I must point out that none of MTWD, MCCC, SE, GL nor Eoin Morgan endorse this product.  Please drink responsibly, not that we advocate (or even advocaat) that you drink alcohol.]

 

 

Those lazy, hazy, crazy daze of Summerzet

 

And so to Summerzet’s go.  By the way, the red faced ruddies were pure dead brilliant.  Really made us feel welcome and a good banter and fun was had by all.   The first 14 overs were shared between Swing Louw and Silvers.  If either Wood or Francis saw more than 5% of any of those deliveries they are big fat fibbers. It was a superbly hostile opening spell. It only yielded one wicket, that of Wood, caught superbly by Pepsi, but it really and truly ought to have yielded more. Big Al thought we should bowl Swing and Silvers straight through as we were never going to see out the 50. Only Paul the G thought we had a chance. We laughed and even (oh fickle hearts!) joined in with the ruddy red faces at mocking him.

 

Two points here. The first is that their extremely laborious start forced the game into situations they never thought they would see. Secondly our ground fielding this season has been excellent so who ever takes credit for that Sheila take a bow. 

 

After that there were two further decisive contributions. The first by Pepsi who bowled superbly for his 4 wickets including an immaculate combination with Benbo to dismiss Web Cam White.  The other one was the brilliant piece of bowling by The Greatest. There is no better sound after being out on the bones of your posterior and hearing the sound of stumps go cartwheeling.   2 in 4 balls.  Rumble in the Regency? You betcha.  

 

The final word goes to his last over.  It was always there for him but you need the nerve to do it. He is a wee bit wayward but he kept his nerve beautifully (even after a seriously streaky 4).  Last ball victory. Paul the G was on the pitch at the end.  We were so very very happy.  Meaningless fixture? Go tell the Marines.

 

 

Southgate Emerald and the Slightly Philosophical Note

 

I’d like Ged’s permission to finish on a slightly philosophical note. We went down to Bath more or less in the knowledge it was a meaningless fixture.  We went because it’s what we do. It’s the county we love.  Ergo bibamus.   

 

I noticed whilst writing this a very interesting thread on what we do and why we do it.  I admit that I am something of a naysayer of the present regime.  I am not a complete naysayer but its the way I swing. However being a naysayer does not equate to a love any less supreme. There is no disloyalty in criticism.  Our views are no less credible because we refuse to believe 100% in where we are going.  My negativity is just as easily someone else’s myopia.

 

We went because we believed. We stayed because we believed. We’ll be at Derbyshire and Worcester next year because we believe. Here we stand.  We can do no other.