Season Finale

An air of anticipation filled a very hot, very dry VSB last Thursday evening. Perhaps it was because, as the last match of the season, the SADS would be super-motivated to put on a grand show for a growing crowd, scattered around the boundary of the SuperDome and they weren't disappointed. A cross section of the community (some very old, some 'stab vest' young) had ignored the red weather warnings and prepared themselves for a festival of cricket, with SADS vs Park St on "Table 1" and Gardenfields vs Verulam on "Table 2", with all sides promising to serve up a buffet worthy of the late Mrs Brexit.

As the crowd waited and waited thanks to a small hiccup in a train timetable (Curtis was given rightful credit for the predicament), confusion reigned as players from all four teams converged on the Upper Field. The SADS, sensing an opportunity, recruited as many G'fields and Verulam fielders as possible to help on the boundary. This set the tone for the evening, as players like Evershed and Howson clearly got confused as to which team they actually played for, to the cost of themselves and others.

Back in London, the dedicated Mr Pointer was rushing to the VSB on his lucky Brompton, ignoring all the rules of the road (and the Tube) to get there. Pointer was apparently reminded over the tannoy system that to avoid injury he should perhaps fold down his steed on a busy train at rush hour. Thank goodness he didn't knock his inflamed knee, sustained at the recent tour match.

Back at the VSB, Captain Yips had finally arrived for his team talk. Renowned for leadership skills, he promptly declared he had 'never been so not up for a match in all his life'. Words like that fire a team up, and off went the keen SADS to inspect the wicket. And like all good captains, Yippers' attention to detail is superb. The crowd even noted his clever 'diagonal pitch' layout with a set of stumps on one track and another set of stumps on another, which must have been some clever warm up exercise for his bowlers.

As the sun got low in the sky, Marcos finally showed up and Park St were put into bat. At this point, Yips took the opportunity to welcome a new boy, Nigel, to the fold. This was a real baptism of fire for poor Nige as Yips barked at him throughout the match, giving him no quarter as he was repositioned in the field, without even a proper introduction to his team mates. "NIGEL! Move to square. NIGEL! Further back. NIGEL! Not there!" Little did we realise Nigel would turn out to be a star man for the SADS.

Fresh from his detox fitness camp in the West Country, WG opened the bowling with his usual economy, with a consistent line, length and slight variation in pace which makes openers' lives difficult. At the Nettle End, dressed only in his SADS shirt and boxer shorts, Winfield arrested his recent run of bowling "filth" with two outstanding overs and two wickets. Talk of the Rose and Crown and an early beer were a touch premature, but nonetheless, that is the SADS way, and it was a great start.

Wilson Sr looked confident as he steamed in down the hill. And he had every right to be - it was a lovely family moment as his son, Tom, stood in the field waiting to take a catch. Marcos, perhaps feeling sorry for the poor wretch in bat having to face this Wilson-led barrage, bent down to pick up a hardly-moving ball, only to cleverly let it go through his legs to the boundary. A match winning moment: Wilson Jr (ignoring the masterclass in bowling his dad was giving him) instead learnt from a master fielder the art of 'letting one go through ones legs'. The same trick was employed much later by this cunning youngster when he was forced to field for Park St later, when he did a "Tembras" and let it go for 4.

Marcos then bowled very fast, but he was clearly uncomfortable after the sound of Yips constantly berating Nigel. What was disconcerting was the way the skipper kept looking at Nighters while he was shouting. As the Wilson/ Tembras bowling partnership moved into a series of cold looks and a frosty silence, thanks to the 'misfield', Winfield, perhaps put off by the cold and the glare off his own legs, dropped a chance on the boundary. Someone had also mischievously tied the shoelaces of our WK together as he proceeded to fall, splutter and do everything but keep during two outstanding spells of spin from Matt Howson and David Nigelgale.

Between these two brilliant overs, Evershed delivered some beauties. Perhaps it is working with children all day, but he was absolutely on fire, raging, as he ran in at full pelt up the hill to bowl. And this focused rage continued while fielding; one ball flew over his head to the boundary, into the now heaving crowd of youngsters, who must have been giving Rupert some stick over his recent batting form. Simmering, Uncle Rupert took his revenge by later switching to the oppo and catching out the fans' favourite player, Wilson Jr, who was otherwise well in and batting beautifully. Celebrating in style, Rupert knew he had not only secured another SADS moment of sporting glory but also years of counselling for the Wilsons.

Next up it was Yips and a clever tactical game of cat and mouse between him and the batsmen. Pie after pie reigned down, steak and kidney at head height, chicken and leek at full body line. Lulled into a false sense of security, one pie (chicken balti) took out the stumps and even Nigel wasn't shouted at in the celebrations. After a brave over from young Tom (a star in the making), Pointers finally folded the Brompton down and delivered two quite wonderful overs, yielding a run out and some sublime deliveries for not many runs. It had made the very public telling off on the Underground all worthwhile. Winfield, inspired by his new found filth-free form, appeared at the death bowling for another run out, this time Marcos remembering to pick the ball up and the WK remembering where the stumps were. 123-5 after twenty and the SADS knew what they had to do.

In to bat, Yips and Uncle Rupert opened with panache, playing some lovely shots, until Matt Howzat caught Evershed in another Quisling moment. But this was a mere blip as all SADS batsmen produced fine performances in what looked at first to be a very achievable run rate. Hats off to Tom who played superbly before Uncle Rupert reappeared as a fielder. Marcos looked in fine fettle, until he managed to launch it into a fielder's hands out on the boundary with unerring accuracy. But after a comfortable start, Marcos, Tom and Winfield were dismissed and Nighters sparked jitters as he waited around waiting to bat. Muttering something about not being able to see past the 'grill', at first we thought he was just asking if the Rose & Crown had managed to get some food ready, either that or the constant Nigel-ing from his skipper had finally got to him. The grill he was referring to was on his lid, and thank goodness he was wearing one as in the gloom, a bouncer hit him full on the bonce. But on he went and scored he did. Other batting highlights included brilliant shots from the Wilsons and Howzatson (the latter turning and bashing a vicious six into the Nettle End, almost decapitating the hapless Park St keeper).

Typically though, the SADS knew how to take it to the wire. Three overs left, just 8 runs to get, and Pointers had prematurely unfolded his lucky Brompton for the ride to the pub. Two overs left and 4 runs to get - Pointers had to put the saddle back down and tucked a wheel away. One over left and still 4 runs remaining and the Brompton was quickly folded fully down and packed away as it was now clearly a jinx. But as if taking a cue from this, Winfield and Evershed saw their chance and quickly packed everything up, including the scoreboard, provoking Park St to concede we were the better team and rightful winners. And so it was off to the Rose and Crown for 7,000 pints of Proper Job, four chips and two chicken-gizzard kebabs between 22 hungry and very thirsty players. Hurrah!