The Etiquette Of Warming Up

There’s always something strange that happens whenever Whaley Bridge seconds are in town, and more often than not it involves Peter Crowley. Yesterday we had our annual trip to the dark side of Glossop, where Hadfield managed to fill us with a sunny delight. It was a genuine pleasure to walk onto the tightly mown outfield and across to the well rolled and cut pitch. It was a great toss to win as we elected to bat, and despite the early loss of wickets Sam Slack dispatched the ball to all corners of the ground and beyond. He was ably assisted by a number of colleagues, most notably Harry Bold and Ben Stones, our juniors of exceptional promise. We were confident with 245 on the board, though we were grateful for the extra impetus provided by Clayton (or is that Crompton?) as he charged down the track. Hadfield started well, with the mercurial Rick Ball leading the way, and Hadfield themselves are not without one or two juniors of exceptional promise. Cameron Ball managed a magnificent 50 but really the game was all over as a contest when Gibbo had Rick Ball caught on the edge by matchwinner Slacky. If only Rick had adjusted the dial and hit it to deep mid on, the outcome would not have been as certain with TR Wild awaiting. Nothing strange in any of this, but when Peter Crowley was asked to warm up his already bizarre ritual seemed to have gone to even more extremes. At one point we thought he was dead, but not so, he was simply stretching a strange set of muscles. Unfortunately he continued his limbering up exercises whilst fielding at short cover, including a couple of arm twirls as Gibbo was in his delivery stride. A full match report will appear tomorrow, but for now I would like to congratulate Hadfield on a game played in the right spirit, despite them possibly not getting the rub of the green on a few decisions, and on an immaculately prepared pitch.

The firsts seem to have developed a political agenda all of their own. In their five wicket defeat to Hadfield there were murmurings on the pitch, a full on debate afterwards, and heaven knows how many agendas. All that is now required is Screaming Lord Sutch and we would have a full blown election. Or is he already on the premises?