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The Delight of Champers

Ah the pure subtleties of cricket. 

Picture the scene. It’s a warm end of summer day, the field is green and lush. Around the boundary people dressed in shorts and statutory floppy hats are enjoying a pint of beer. 

In the distance a young lad is working the electronic scoreboard for the age of technology has come to our glorious game. 

On the field there’s what could be termed a rearguard action taking place. For the batting side have no need to win the match. They know the opposition have to bowl at least eight of them out whilst they have to bat through 45 overs. 

That’s 270 balls to the uninitiated. Time at the crease that’s what’s needed A visitor from a non cricket playing country or the ubiquitous Martian could be forgiven for wondering why solid unpretentious blocking can possibly be so exciting that certain supporters of the team are pacing the boundary edges and regularly going to what the English strangely call “pay a visit.” 

It’s not so much the beer as the tension that makes us retreat regularly. If we go out of sight of the pitch more balls will be bowled and we will be closer to that all important winning defeat. It’s almost as if being away from the action will actually make it go away. 

For today we don’t mind losing, in fact we welcome it. As it turns out we lose by something in the region of 149 runs but still the champagne comes out. For cricket is a game of calculations. At the tea interval charts are mulled over and a calculator is even detected. 

At the end of the game a committee member is heard to nominate the match as “the best defeat in the 150 year history of the club.” So just what is this all about? 

Well it’s all about the complexities of cricket. The final league match of the season between the top two teams. The team in second place has to win and win well. The team at the top can afford to lose as long as they aren’t bowled out. The intricacies of batting and bowling points come into play. The top team lose the toss and that in itself is a massive blow. It means they now have to be defensive rather than an attacking force. 

Around 7 p.m with the sun already down and the light failing, all the mathematics comes down to a simple calculation. The batting side needs one run for a second batting point. The opposition need three more wickets. Step forward two heroes – both normally attacking batsmen. 

There’s John, who two days later is due to set-off backpacking round the world, and Simon, brave and resolute despite having his nose broken the previous week when he stepped into the ball. His only concession to this fact is the wearing of a helmet (a case of locking the stable door after the horse has bolted). 

Nevertheless Simon stands resolute scoring just five in 13 overs and John hits a princely zero in eight overs – possibly two of the most important innings’ in the club’s history. 

But no supporter from the visiting team is complaining. A fielder on the boundary turns to these supporters “enjoying the run chase” he sarcastically asks? 

“No, but we’re enjoying winning the league,” comes the quick rejoinder. 

The record books will show that the team suffered a 149 run defeat, they will also show that the team finished as champions – with a superior average over an entire season of 0.08. 

After all the excitement of seeing my team score just 81 runs in 45 overs I felt in the need of a lie down – after a glass of champers of course.