The Cotswolds, renowned across the world for their pretty, honey-coloured villages and areas of outstanding natural beauty, enjoys a rich and interesting cricketing history. Indeed, one could write volume upon volume of deeply engaging commentary on the exploits of the region's cricket teams through the years. Evidence of the game can be traced back to late Neolithic times, with the discovery of a bail fragment, a clay scorecard, and a fossilised ham sandwich in a burial chamber in the Cotswold-Severn long barrows in 1937. Incidentally, the scorecard read 864/2, which gives credence to the theory posited by archaeologists that Stonehenge was initially constructed on behalf of Salisbury CC in 3100 BC, and the more generally held view that the boundaries were, indeed, far smaller back then.

One cannot recount the history of the region without giving reference to the fiercely contested ECB Cotswolds Premier League seasons of 1642-1649, which saw a largely two-horse race between the long established Royalist CC, captained by Charles I, and the newly promoted Parliament CC, captained by Oliver Cromwell (who famously cut his teeth in the Huntingdonshire leagues, and later founded Hunts County Bats in 1625). Edgehill, Moreton-in-Marsh, Broadway and Banbury are all mentioned in the histories, and Stow-on-the-Wold CC hosted the famous final clash of the 1646 season, where the Royalists went down by 147 runs, largely due to a remarkable "5-in-5" hattrick from Colonel Thomas Morgan, ripping out the entire Royalist middle order. Following the game, the Royalists drowned their sorrows in a pub on what is now known as "Digbeth" Street, with the name originating from the term "duck bath", on account of the four new Primary Club members that day.

Sadly for the author, Shipton-under-Wychwood does not seem feature much through the years. Wisden confirms that both Henry VII and Henry VIII brought touring sides to the village in the early 1500s, and Shipton's Lord Sir Edward Unton entertained Elizabeth I on at least 3 occasions in the 1570s, leading to a succession of "totty on tour" fines that almost bankrupted his family's seat, but the local cricketing history is a largely blank canvas, something every member of the FAS diaspora was acutely aware of, as we rolled into town at 1pm on Sunday, July 5, 2026 (albeit myself at 1.47pm, following a particularly troublesome turmeric latté at Milton Keynes Services en route).

So, to the cricket. Rather than proceeding with a traditional toss, the Shipton captain eschewed convention and offered FAS captain Harry Houlder his choice of batting or bowling first, in a thinly veiled power move. Captain Houlder, refusing to be alpha'ed before he'd even put his whites on, eschewed convention even further and elected to field first, despite 32 degree sunshine and seven gentlemen over the age of 40 in his side. It was a display of cricketing brinkmanship not seen since the Russians sent their ODI squad to tour Cuba in October 1962, and was breathtaking in both its arrogance and stupidity, something this author would have made quite clear, had he not been 47 minutes late for the game.

Naturally, I cannot comment on the opening overs of the game, as I was stuck behind a Nissan Micra going 25mph on the A361, rather than standing at second slip and loudly making my thoughts on the decision to bowl first known to all in sundry; however, when I arrived it was clear Harry may have been rueing his decision, with the Shipton openers taking advantage of a flat pitch, a hot sun and a hard ball. They eventually reached 100 without loss in the 17th over, riding out an excellent opening spell from Jamie Dare (1/14 from 7 overs), and capitalising on short boundaries and an aging fielding unit.

Change was needed, and Houlder was fortunate enough to have several men in his ranks who know better than anyone what it's like to be haemorrhaging runs to the tune of 100/0 inside 20 overs. Calling on Joss Dare from one end, and himself from the other, the two used their flight, guile and experience to wrestle the initiative back towards FAS. Houlder, in particular, found the sort of form many had feared had long since deserted him, bowling beautifully to take 4/30, rubbing out the Shipton top order with "genuine wickets" (rather than the standard leg-spinners' fare of ct cow, ct deep long-on, ct deep deep long on, ct by the man walking his dog in the adjacent field, etc., etc.). With Cliff Dare also rolling back the years to close out the innings with 2/22 in 5 overs ("heavy balls"), FAS were satisfied with the eventual total of 176/8 in 35 overs.

Following an excellent tea, the FAS opening partnership of James Houlder and Luke Champion walked out in the late afternoon sunshine to begin our assault on the Shipton-under-Wychwood total. The first 15 overs passed with no alarms whatsoever, with FAS reaching 65/0 before the author, perhaps starting to anticipate the strain of writing this elaborate match report, let his mind wander elsewhere for a brief second, which was all that was needed for a 16-year-old offspinner to sneak one through his gate and into his off-stump. Game on.

"Game on" very quickly became "for fucks' sake", as our middle order perished to a combination of poor shot selection, poor shot selection, and poor shot selection, to leave us somewhat in the lurch at 96/5, with 81 runs still required for victory. Captain Houlder, much like the other ginger haired English captain of note, had other ideas, and a date with Destiny awaited (the eventuality, not the barmaid of questionable morals at the Shaven Crown hotel).

Harry set to the task, working the ball into gaps for ones and twos, and punishing the bad balls to the boundary, in a cool-headed innings of great maturity. He was ably supported by Cliff Dare, who, incidentally, also had a date with Destiny (though this time it was the barmaid of questionable morals at the Shaven Crown), and the two chipped away at the target. A brief flurry of wickets soon left us needing 23 runs to win with one wicket in hand; however by this stage Harry was in the zone, and despite BK's best efforts to farm the strike from him and make the game really interesting (with his batting average of 6.00 less than ideally suited to the task of scoring 23 runs at a run a ball with one wicket in hand), the result never really seemed in doubt, with FAS coasting home with 3 balls to spare, with Harry 44* [Subsequently confirmed by Harry's forensic inspection of the live-stream to have been 48* - ed.]. Thus, Harry's (still utterly preposterous) decision to bowl first was vindicated; his obligation to commit non-metaphorical hara kiri was avoided; and, after 5126 years, the locals at the Shaven Crown finally had something cricket-related to talk about as they enjoyed their foaming flagons of Jouster, in what this author believes to be one of the most wonderful places to play cricket in the country.

Arriving at the ever-expanding Bibury Cricketing Centre of Excellence, we were presented with the sight of hordes of kids in whites running around the ground. Whereas a similar scene at the Slaughters last year was just a junior event wrapping up before our match, today it was a preview of our opposition: a very "Sunday" side consisting of a fleet of juniors orbiting a core of now familiar adults from previous Bibury line-ups. Our side was also pleasingly family-heavy, with three multi-generational groupings: George and Justin Bradford; Tom, Toby and Nigel Reynolds; and Hugo and Alex Little, both making their FAS debuts, having played against us for Madrid yesterday.

Batting first by agreement (for the unusual if weclome reason of getting the post-match BBQ cooked in good time), we quickly slumped to 17/3, with two of our better batters back in the hutch. A few more wickets and we wouldn't even have a decent game on our hands, so the rescue mission by Toby Reynolds and George Bradford was vital to both teams. Their efforts were helped by the sudden and initially inexplicable appearance of Bibury's distinctive yellow caps by the side of the pitch: these, it turned out, were to mark bespoke creases for some of their junior bowlers, who were duly exploited in an appropriately controlled way. In the end Toby and George did a bit too well and we were soon faced with the opposite problem of killing the game off, so first Toby (51* off 55 balls) and then George (51* off 49 balls) were retired in the space of a few overs. Pleasingly, this ordering meant Justin Bradford got a chance to bat with George - and, even more happily, Justin got his eye in (something he hadn't previously managed for FAS, his longest innings up to this point being just 11 balls), eventually finishing on 31* off 32 balls with 5 well-cheered boundaries. Clapping boundaries is one thing, but another of our first-time players had each of his four singles met with a round of applause (which, awkwardly, could have been misinterpreted by the opposition as celebrating their mis-fields): Scarlett Streeter's partner Dan Adams hadn't played cricket since he was thirteen so we - and he - were delighted with his FAS debut innings of 4 (off 19 balls) which, thanks to the retirements, formed part of a four-player 145-run partnership (highest for FAS this deacde). Tom Reynolds (13 off 8 balls) then struck a few late boundaries which took us to on 187/4 from our 30 overs, surely enough to win.

Heading out to defend our total we opted to combine the reliable bowling of a FAS veteran, Tom Reynods, with the less predictable offerings of a teenage debutante, Hugo Little. Hugo (1/21 from immaculate 6 overs) exceeded both our expectations and his - he seemed genuinely surprised to get a second over despite having taken a wicket in his first. At the other end Tom (2/20) struggled with his vertical hold to such a degree that when a catch was taken off his fourth delivery the ball had not yet touched the ground while in play. Following these early wickets, the solid core of the Bibury batting line-up appeared, which captain Daniel Mortlock (4/11) responded to by executing his Fladbury power move by bringing himself on to bowl, taking a couple of wickets in his first over, and then spelling himself with Bibury presumably sunk on 63/5. (Or, as it was displayed on the calculator-style scoreboard, 6E/a, as Bibury's junior contingent struggled with this old-school technology. That said, the biggest problems could be traced back to the pro-level PlayCricket scoring laptop, which had an unreliable track-pad - it was as likely to repeat an input multiple times as to ignore it completely - and a mouse pointer which would routinely disappear, leading to speculative clicks which, it seemed, could easily delete the entire fixture.)

The game then entered its most chilled phase, with Dan Adams (1/32) taking his first FAS wicket (and first wicket in any cricket since he was 13) and Toby Reynolds (2/22) being cajoled into bowling ever more slowly, with the result that he bamboozled - and dismissed - the two best Bibury batters. One of these wickets was the absolute highlight of the game: the Bibury skipper played a desperate cross-bat hoik and sent the ball flying towards Tom Reynolds on the square-leg boundary; Tom overran the ball only to recover with an incredible ballerina-like pirouette, somehow completing a clean catch while rotating in the manner of an ice-skater who's pulled in their arms, a manoeuvre none of us (incudling Tom himself) were able to reconstruct afterwards. Having dismissed all the adults, Bibury sent out their juniors and we responded by deploying our most senior player, Justin (0/3) bowling not just for the first time in a decade, but possibly the first time ever.

That all left plenty of time for amazing post-match hospitality with venison burgers on the BBQ and an excellent local IPA on tap, both of which went down a treat.