Report by Toby Reynolds coming . . .
Arriving at Temple Grafton today we were greeted with a purple carpet of borage, more magnificent than ever before, a fact confirmed objectively by official court photographer Faruk. For a while it seemed just as well that there was something to look at as the ride-on roller ran out of fuel roughly in the spot where the 'keeper would stand. We found some spare fuel but there was too much air in the system to keep the engine running; and even with Hal exerting his full brake horse power we couldn't make it budge. In the end our salvation came in the form of DK's truck, equipped with both enough power and the right gear to tow the roller off the ground. There was a brief chance of further drama when it briefly seemed Dave might trap his own vehicle in behind the roller, but unfortunately he was too clever for that.
The difficulties we had shifting the two-tonne roller off the ground were matched, if not exceeded, by the challenge of getting Tommy Dare on to the ground. Tommy, who'd perhaps stayed up a little late, was now experiencing what appeared to be a bad case of food-poisoning, and so it was particularly heroic of him to answer his team's call by opening the bowling. That he got hit for a couple of boundaries in his one rather erratic over wasn't too surprising - and was subsequently put into context by the fact that these were both hit by TG's overseas pro, N. Blundell, who ended up dominating our time in the field. Ben Kittow (2/37), Daniel Mortlock (1/30), James Wyatt (0/16), Joss Dare (1/39) and Harry Houlder (1/19) all did well against the other batters, but Blundell mercilessly dealt with anything even remotely loose. He looked set to go to his century when he connected perfectly with a low full toss from Cliff Dare (2/19), only to be brilliantly caught at shortish mid-off by Joss (who will be able to savour this memory every time he nurses the bloodied remains of his hand). Amazingly, Joss's catch was probably eclipsed both by James Houlder, who snaffled a well-hit cut at gully, and James Wyatt, who dived full-length to latch onto a drive at short cover. And an argument could be made that the most remarkable catch we took was when Tommy's lifeless cadaver somehow managed to hold onto a dolly at mid-wicket. While TG still had one more batter available, they sensibly decided to declare at tea as the game otherwise would have been killed off.With likely only 30-odd overs to face we weren't in much danger of losing; but to chase at around a run a ball was going to take something quite remarkable . . . which was what we got in the form of FAS's best ever cousinly(?) partnership between Hal and Jamie Dare. Following a 0 and 1 at number 3 on the first two days of the Supermajority, Hal had repeatedly turned down the opportunity of opening today, only for Harry to convince him by reminding him of his half-century here last year. This time around Hal went one better, adding some measured defensive strokes to the more familiar Bearsball, defined by clubbed sixes. Still, there were plenty of these on show, the most destructive of which smashed the brake light on the car belonging to the partner of one of the TG players who'd just dropped by the ground to sub field for a few overs. After Hal was dismissed (for a superb 61 off 48 balls, with 4 sixes and 7 fours, which included his 500th run), Jamie Houlder joined his namesake and consolidated beautifully with a partnerhip of controlled aggression - which would be a charitable way to describe TG's team-level reaction when an LBW appeal against Jamie H was turned down, primarily on the grounds that the ball had struck 9-10 feet in front of the stumps. TG were more materially unlucky when the easiest of the several chances the Jamies gave went straight into - and out of - the hands of a still malfunctioning Tommy Dare, now reluctantly fielding while the car damage was sorted out.
By the time we reached 164/2 in the 28th over we had 21 balls to score 23 runs, surely a doddle with two set batters at the crease . . . at which point we suffered a collapse of 3/9 and the equation had become a considerably more difficult 13 needed off 9 with two new batters. After a couple of scampered singles it had become 9 needed off 3 and we definitely need a big hit - which Cliff (9* off 5 balls) provided in his unique wristy style to deposit the ball way over the longest boundary. That meant we were ahead of the required rate for the first time all innings, and TG were surely resigned to Cliff stealing another game from them . . . at which point we entered bizarro world. With one needed to tie - or at least level the scores, since we'd presumably have to be all out for a tie - Cliff didn't even attempt to hit the next ball, subsequently claiming the standing umpire (Hal!) should have called it a wide - and TG's 14-year-old 'keeper certainly had to move well to prevent byes. No matter, still one more ball to . . . nope, that's just been patted back to the bowler, and a pointless run out is more likely than the tieing run, as Cliff crabs down the pitch before returning to his ground in the manner of an military transport plane which has had its take-off clearance revoked.
A fabulously dramatic game in stunning surroundings thus ended up with members of both sides enjoying post-match beers at the ground - except for Tommy, that is, who finally had some lunch: four slices of plain buttered bread.