Raining on the GOAT’s parade
8th July 2023 @ Cavalry Park Arti
Murrayfield DAFS 5s 153-9 (40 overs)
E xtras 40, R Parasur 38, J Gutteridge 26*, Pastellas 3-16
Marchmont 4s 25-2 (8 overs)
G Walker 17no, R Parasur 2-9
Match Abandoned - Rain
Cavalry Park is something of a strange place.
It hosts sports clubs named after Marchmont and Portobello, and has the distinction of being absolutely nowhere near either of those places. Perhaps it’s somewhere in the middle, or the persons behind the aforementioned clubs thought claiming the name of a more illustrious Edinburgh suburb might improve their marketability prospects. “Come play rugby for Portobello, only don’t go to the seaside, but turn off long before. It’s not Niddrie. HONEST”. On a previous visit the author of this report turned up for a cricket game to encounter the sight of an incinerated vehicle in the car park. Maybe he hadn’t paid his match fees. The 1960’s aesthetic changing rooms have been redecorated liberally with a smattering of local gang tags, and even the Roger Sardesai pavilion, named after the distinguished founder of the cricket club, remains locked and boarded up. There’s a sadness in seeing the delightful place everyone used to take tea in now sitting forlorn whilst the players eat prepacked sandwiches on the boundary.
Still, as far as Edinburgh cricketing dumps go, it’s a long way before it reaches Inch Park and the Meadows. The main square is presentable, and for us riff raff in the 5ths (maybe we’ll see a grass wicket again someday…) the artificial up the back is more even than most in the vicinity. Indeed, if the council could actually be bothered to take down the rugby posts in the summer (several of which are uneven and rusted up more than most modern Russian tanks) you could actually have a reasonably sized outfield. Instead, the facility resembles an under-12’s pitch.
It was at these surroundings that the MUFS 5th XI assembled piecemeal to play Marchmont 5ths, some admittedly late after they managed to get lost on the way. Skipper Mann, deputising for Mulholland who had chosen this weekend to get drenched in Wales as opposed to eastern Scotland, walked to the middle having recounted to the teammates prepared to pretend to listen that the last time he’d played here he had won the toss, inserted the opposition, and seen them rack up 327-3. Opposing skipper Bremner, having advised of the glaring and oft familiar struggles to get a team out and appearing unduly pessimistic about his side’s chances, won the toss and inserted the MUFS. With what looked a strong side, everyone seemed delighted with this act of generosity, and Olver and the returning GOAT Parasur walked out to open the innings.
Except it didn’t start great. Immediately, on seeing Marchmont take the field, the remark was “Is that Simon Marr opening the bowling? I used to play against him in Division 1”, followed by “what on earth is he doing here?” And of course the inevitable happened. After erring first ball with a wide, second ball he hit the perfect spot to hit the top of Olver’s off stump. Left arm round clattering the stumps. It was as if Gus McLean had just rocked up 30 years younger. 1-1.
Towns, relieved at not having to skipper this disparate mob 2 weeks in a row, joined GOAT Parasur in the middle and the score began to advance, with the youngster looking both in his strokemaking and running between the wickets. Towns played several pleasant looking shots resembling a four iron from the fairway into the 18th green at Augusta, before he was caught in two minds and found his furniture rearranged by Marr for 7. 19-2.
Skipper Mann walked out to bat, and both he and Parasur began to build a score with the simple instructions of seeing the opening bowler off and looking to cash in against the rest. The support bowling for Marchmont gleefully obliged, and with no real difficulty the score moved past 50 at a good rate. The before play aimed for score of 200 looked well within reach. At which point, having glided one down to 3rd man and taken a single slower than usual, or more likely because he’s old, Mann foolishly chanced a second run to the best fielder on the opposing side and saw himself run out while set for 14. 54-3.
Blackhall, very keen to remind everyone that he was from the same Northumblerland town as Mark Wood, the Charlton brothers and Steve Harmison (he didn’t mention it’s probably Raoul Moat’s hometown as well) was next in, and thanks to a combination of some nice shots by Parasur and some dubious wicketkeeping going for byes, the score moved along nicely. At which point Parasur unfortunately chopped on to Singh thanks to an unfortunate bounce. 88-4.
Soon after Blackhall played round a straight one from Singh, and was bowled for 5. 99-5. Drinks taken, the score after 20 was 100-5. Good scoring record, too many wickets down.
Islam was making his debut, and following some initial nervousness and a few shouts of “CALM DOWN TIBBO” from the boundary, began to look assured in the middle. A couple of solid boundaries showed him finding his feet in adult cricket. Marchmont had by this point brought on Pastellas to bowl. In appearance he stood out, as when he walked past before play Gutteridge remarked that he had the bald head of Alex Dow and the untidy brown beard of Finn Ross. In addition, despite being initially close in facial resemblance to those two midgets in terms of body shape he looked much more like Neil Yelland. What was truly remarkable in that in spite of being a composition of 3 of the most dislikeable characters in recent MUFS history, he came across as a nice chap. He trapped Islam LBW for 11 (I believe this happened; the author of the report was in the bushes taking a piss at this particular pivotal moment). 100-6.
Pandit, on a run of low scores so catastrophic that he was beginning to question cricket, was now in. Having racked up 12 runs previously at an average of 2, he maintained that consistency by scoring 2 before being cleaned up by FinnDowYelly (Pastellas for those not paying attention. 105-7. Pretty grim.
The youthful Bisset was now joined by the increasingly grumpy Gutteridge; having not been needed to bat in his previous game for the 5ths, this was Bisset’s first innings in adult cricket. Having been given firm instructions by his batting partner to see out the overs, he was resolute and committed. Eventually he fell like two before him to Pastellas, chipping him up. Still the score had reached 138-8.
Gutteridge, whom watching bat close up can give you a sensation akin to being transported to an obscure CIA black site where you are relentlessly waterboarded, accumulated 26 runs through a combination of some well struck boundaries with the field up (HE HIT A COVER DRIVE FOR 4! TWICE!) and some truly dreadful running. Eventually he and Mitchell took the score to 153-9 with Gutteridge run out attempting a run on the last ball. At least 50 runs below par was the thought afterwards.
Some tea was provided. By that, I mean, a few pre packed sandwiches. In a previous age this would have been a 3/10 in the tea stakes. In the modern era, it’s as much as you can hope for. Tea conversation involved predicting who of Mitchell and Gutteridge would have won a footrace.
Defending 154, GOAT Parasur and Hewlett opened the bowling. In his previous game for the 5ths, Parasur had smashed up South’s innings with a 5for. Here, he started tightly and in his 3rd over collected the wickets of both McConachie and Bremner. Both chipped wide balls to Pandit at cover, leaving him with the dubious distinction of 2 runs and 2 catches. 10-2. At the other end Hewlett was causing the batsmen no end of bother with his away swing. Twice he induced edges from Walker, and twice they were shelled at slip by Mann. The first would have been a Mark Waugh special circa 1993; the second could probably have been caught by his namesake Evelyn. The score reached 25-2 after 8 overs when the heavens opened. After half an hour of miserably watching rain fall with no prospect of any immediate improvement, both captains agreed to call it quits.
A no result, much preferable to the ridiculous sight we all saw on departure of Marchmont 2nds attempting to bat in miserable drizzle against DT 2nds.