Preamble
Since the triumphant victory in a sixes tournament in a picturesque pasture just outside Ljubljana in summer 2011, it would not be unfair to suggest that the Cambridge to Casablanca Cycling Cricket Club have suffered an indifferent run of form. An 18 run defeat on the Portugal Tour (caused mostly by Nat and Rory’s running between the wickets), a surprising failure to win the Essenden Sixes Tournament and the relocation of our revered leader, the Chairman ‘Geoff Sheen’ Mau to Bradford would have forced many teams to fold, but the proverbial bullet was bitten and a tour to the Hellenic paradise of Corfu was arranged in order to try and get us back to winning ways.
With emaciated, Africa-based stalwarts Davidson and Pearson otherwise occupied, Rudkin learning how to be an estate agent, Reuben Pinkt unwilling to cross the Atlantic and Nunez missing presumed dead, we were forced to think outside the box in order to recruit a squad sufficient in number. For Deano, this meant certain decisions were unavoidable – namely promoting enthusiastic OP and Philanderer Oli Roberts, desperately reaching out to ‘Bolter’ and general loose cannon The Jones and offering a central contract to the amorous, cud chewing McNaught. Appropriately, it was to be John who led the other eight brave men to the cattle sheds at Luton to go forth and conquer the deranged, olive tree-scaling feta enthusiasts from the Mediterranean.
A rousing team address and shirt presentation by Smudger took place in the airport boozer. Despite being responsible for several PR disasters over the course of the preceding season, Hammond was unveiled as skipper due to the total lack of any alternative candidates, bar Coe, who was briefly considered before being ruled marginally too hairy to assume the role.
Match 1 – vs Combined Corfu XI, Gouvia
We had barely landed on the Island when we were summoned to the scenic but poorly mown ground at Gouvia Marina to contest our first fixture. A game of touch rugby woke us up and in moderate 26 degree heat we took the field against the ‘Corfu Combined XI’, comprising the Greek National Team. Hammond won the toss and elected to bat, and a Greek man resembling a pirate ran in to bowl the first over.
It was clear pre tour that our chances of success were somewhere between 90% and 95% contingent on Coe scoring runs, and an air of doom and gloom set in when the small bear gloved to the keeper for a duck. The CTCCCC dugout fell silent. Hammond kicked a nearby olive branch. Dillon toked wistfully on a cigarette. Tour virgin and Bagman Oli Roberts got up to bat. Although Baggers inspired little confidence as he arrived at the crease, by jove he proved his doubters partially wrong with several astonishing lofted drives (including one from his first ball), before being caught attempting one outlandish shot too many. Hammo was soon following him back to the hutch (for a trademark high profile duck), and we were firmly on the rocks at 16-3.
Gimson joined opener Cassels B at the crease and the men somewhat restored order with a stand of 53. Pugwash as usual used his bulk to good effect with some lusty blows and it was a great shame when he was held in the deep for 33. Next-Man-In McNaught’s swashbuckling innings of 26 continued the momentum and seemed to inspire Toxicator to finally start to time the ball a tad better and chump a couple of maximums. When their useful stand of 45 eventually came to an end with T Man holing out for 41, it was left to Dillon to try and guide us to a semi respectable total by scoring exclusively in singles (all of them with a very flamboyant yet impotent arc of the bat). He was alas cleaned up with the score on 129, and after Cassels E nudged a few, we were to run out of time. Deano ensuring that the innings ended in inevitably farcical circumstances, running out freshly recruited ringer Shauno with a suicidal, kamikaze single. We had posted 144.
There was little hiding from the fact that the CTCCC squad was woefully short of bowling, but when we took the field, our prospects of defending our modest total improved significantly when Shauno took the ball and came steaming in off a long run. Lo and behold, his talents proved too much for opener Katechis who holed out for just three, Dillon taking the dolly brilliantly at mid-off despite close attention from the nearby Dean.
Hammond had very sportingly decreed that we would bowl two overs each. Shauno excelled with 1-6, and Puggers delivered a very useful 0-12, although his failure to dismiss fellow buccaneer Nikokavuras was to prove costly. With the remainder of our bowling representing Davidson-esque cannon fodder, and Greek National captain and Zimbabwean gun Manoyehe looking ominously familiar with batting, our ship was distinctly unsteady. Willis’ bowling is not as effective on an artificial track as it occasionally is on a Newmarket green top, and our hapless, doughy skipper was carted for 33 from his two as we failed to break the partnership. Cassels B was surprisingly the man to eventually get the breakthrough during a typical spell of beamers, long hops and utter filth (1-33), a clothed pull shot being snared by Shauno at mid-on.
Unfortunately the wicket served only to delay the inevitable for CTC. With our bandana-clad Rhodesian hungrily depositing several trademark Dean full bungers onto the adjacent bowls lawn, his eventual dismissal to the same bowler for a marvellous 86 was to prove inconsequential. The run chase was achieved for the loss of just three wickets and we had suffered a comprehensive fessée. We retired to the excellent poolside cafe in the Marina for beers with the only non-crispy opposition of the tour, with the exception of one Corfusian comparing Cassels E to an ‘innocent pigeon’. There followed a night of being given absolute daggers by the local nightclub dwelling, non-cricketing Greeks (of which there appeared to be many).
Match 2 – vs ouring Side Gouvia
Our second match started at the relatively ungodly hour of 9.30am and had Dean not badgered everyone out of the door at 09.15, we would surely have been put into bat in absentia, and, one by one, timed out. There was an even covering of dew on the ground and with most of the squad desperately trying not to be sick, an inevitable sense of slight trepidation set in.
We had briefly been acquainted with our opposition for the second match (a group of London based Pakistani newsagents also taking part in the tournament) at the airport and at the Marina ground, and were able to identify them as utterly abysmal characters even before they put on their full Pakistan international pyjamas and engaged in what they perceived to be an international standard warm up. They had a huge squad and reluctantly donated us a surplus, eccentric and extremely affable Sri Lanka chap named Nawaz, who didn’t seem to object to being called Nashy.
We were to bat and Hammond opted for an all-Chump opening pairing. The opening bowler was sending it down at reasonable pace and extracted some good bounce from the artificial track. There was no option but to swing for the fences. The Cassels’ took him for a few in a useful opening partnership of 37, but Toxi was soon caught after one slog too many, and Chumpers Snr was run out attempting a suicidal second run.
We couldn’t tell whether or not Coe was ashamed of himself for his duck in our opening game, but he certainly didn’t try very hard to atone. He let himself, his teammates, his family and both his girlfriends down again by sky-ing one up in the air and sheepishly departing for four, leaving us in the unenviable position of relying on The Hams to score most of our runs.
To give him his due, the pink, white and ginger man played a captain’s innings to steady the ship and get us up to 79 before his famous leaky defence saw him clean bowled for an important 20. Jessie Ryder was batting stoically at the other end but was soon to run out of partners as Nashy (1), McNaught (3), Baggers (0) and Dillon (6, accumulated exclusively in singles earned with a flamboyant but important arc of the bat) flew too close to the sun. When Gimson finally fell for 16 it was left to The Jones and our leader to save face, and there was only one way it would end. Deano fell lbw for 2, and The Jones had carried his bat for an excellent nought.
After some dubious local sandwiches, we took the field and got reasonably fired up. None more so than Sheen - desperate to avert another defeat, shaken up by his ‘fall’ from the balcony the previous night, wired by his lack of sleep and wound up by the opposition being a band of unacceptably poor blokes, he ran in and bowled a brand of fast, lightly turning leg breaks the accuracy of which defied any spell he had ever bowled in his career thus far. He delivered a sensational 4-1-2-18 having pinned one of the oppo lbw and sent another packing a couple of overs later.
He was ably supported at the other end, by our perma-grinning Trojan Horse Nashy, who, it turned out, bowled an exceptionally accurate and effective brand of leg spin. Was it to be an extraordinary victory of the underdogs dethroning a hypercompetitive, unintelligible gaggle of complete tools? Alas no – we ran out of steam, Gimson went for 1-41 from his four, Hammond and Baggers could not ruffle any feathers, and with no reserve bowling, we were left to watch the oppo’s keeper play a winning innings. We were to suffer a 5 wicket defeat and another setback in our hopes of victory in the tournament. There was nothing for it but to seek consolation in the arms of the local ‘rippers.
Match 3 – vs Corfu Pakistanis, Gouvia
Our final game on tour followed a night of lavish celebrations in Corfu’s premier yet mostly deserted nightclub. The drinks flowed, and we exceeded ourselves in being ill-prepared to play cricket, this time against a very strong Corfu Pakistanis side (some of whom were rumoured to play a cricket match every day). However, with Deano’s bowling inexplicably on song, Coe due a score and the evergreen Nashy once again in our ranks, we were confident of victory.
The Girth saw fit that we would take the field this time, which we did to varying degrees of enthusiasm. While a much less hungover and very pumped Deano was limbering up effusively, a still paralytic T Man’s weary request for fine leg to fine leg was granted.
Deano took the new nut, and maintained his highly effective bowling, brilliantly cleaning up opener Israr in his third over. Shortly afterwards, talented opposition number 3 Usman top edged, high in the air, and the ball descended slowly and directly towards the fielder at square leg. It was scarcely credible. The Pakistanis were to be two down. We had them on chapatti. We were already congratulation each other when we observed with some horror that the fielder under the arching ball was none other than The Jones. He positioned himself well, steadied himself and braced for impact. Unfortunately, Medusa had turned his hands to stone. The ball bounced and landed in slow motion on the grass. There was dismay and mirth in equal measure.
Following this reprieve, Usman set about hitting our bowling to every part of the ground. He hit sixes into the Marina. He carted us into the adjacent field. He flayed us over the pavilion onto the bowls lawn. He humped us into the olive tree groves. He rode his luck at times, but was never held, and went on to record an unbeaten hundred with some very able bludgeoning at the other end. Gimson went for 53 off his four, Hammond 46, Roberts 15 off his one. Only Dean finished with respectable figures (1-31). No mercy was shown and we were set a target of 217.
Without wishing to dilly dally, we strolled out to attempt the chase. Just as Hammo had been falsely confident of being able to ‘keep them under 170, lads’, Coe suggested to opening partner Cassels B that the total was attainable, if we were to bat patiently. Toxi attempted to deposit the very next ball into the Marina and holed out to mid-off with the score on just 10.
Thankfully, it seemed like Coe had finally remembered which end of the fucking bat to hold, and attacked the bowling with some gusto. We quickly built hopes that he would register an unbeaten 180* and win us the game. Moreover, our most experienced player and on field leader, The Girth, was heading out to join Coe in the run chase. This wilier, pastier Damian Lewis would surely help nudge us up to a strong position from which to execute a perfect run chase. We looked forward to him playing a steady innings.
A few minutes later, we heard a cheer and looked up to see Will’s stumps exploding all over the ground – he had gone back to a full ball and was on his way for a duck. He looked distraught as he trudged off, knowing how he had struggled so far on tour, and how costly his lack of runs would be. McNaught was in no mood for sympathy. A loud shout of ‘Hammo: NIL!’ was not appreciated, and Will fumed for 20 minutes under a tree before returning to the dugout.
Our utterly abject, humiliating failure to be competitive in the match was gradually sealed as one by one, the CTC batsmen were caught attempting to score quick runs. This eventually included Coe for a battling 38. The Jones and Dean were the last men to fall and The Innocent Pigeon carried his bat. We were all out for 91 having failed to bat our 20 overs and avoid a crushing 126 run defeat.
The clearly embarrassed, non-beer-drinking opposition posed for a team photo with us before disappearing.
Post Mortem
Thus concluded a very enjoyable, if not particularly successful cricket tour. Against strong opposition, it was safe to say that we had neither prepared well enough for the games by not abstaining from alcohol, nor had we brought a strong enough squad. For the already eagerly awaited Romania / Croatia tour 2015, this reporter feels certain that Dean will ensure that both these inconsistencies are corrected, lest his club’s reputation as one that never wins a game is sealed.
Tour awards
Player of the tour: Nat Gimson
Best Tourist: Oliver Roberts
Clubman of the Year: George Dean
Since the triumphant victory in a sixes tournament in a picturesque pasture just outside Ljubljana in summer 2011, it would not be unfair to suggest that the Cambridge to Casablanca Cycling Cricket Club have suffered an indifferent run of form. An 18 run defeat on the Portugal Tour (caused mostly by Nat and Rory’s running between the wickets), a surprising failure to win the Essenden Sixes Tournament and the relocation of our revered leader, the Chairman ‘Geoff Sheen’ Mau to Bradford would have forced many teams to fold, but the proverbial bullet was bitten and a tour to the Hellenic paradise of Corfu was arranged in order to try and get us back to winning ways.
With emaciated, Africa-based stalwarts Davidson and Pearson otherwise occupied, Rudkin learning how to be an estate agent, Reuben Pinkt unwilling to cross the Atlantic and Nunez missing presumed dead, we were forced to think outside the box in order to recruit a squad sufficient in number. For Deano, this meant certain decisions were unavoidable – namely promoting enthusiastic OP and Philanderer Oli Roberts, desperately reaching out to ‘Bolter’ and general loose cannon The Jones and offering a central contract to the amorous, cud chewing McNaught. Appropriately, it was to be John who led the other eight brave men to the cattle sheds at Luton to go forth and conquer the deranged, olive tree-scaling feta enthusiasts from the Mediterranean.
A rousing team address and shirt presentation by Smudger took place in the airport boozer. Despite being responsible for several PR disasters over the course of the preceding season, Hammond was unveiled as skipper due to the total lack of any alternative candidates, bar Coe, who was briefly considered before being ruled marginally too hairy to assume the role.
Match 1 – vs Combined Corfu XI, Gouvia
We had barely landed on the Island when we were summoned to the scenic but poorly mown ground at Gouvia Marina to contest our first fixture. A game of touch rugby woke us up and in moderate 26 degree heat we took the field against the ‘Corfu Combined XI’, comprising the Greek National Team. Hammond won the toss and elected to bat, and a Greek man resembling a pirate ran in to bowl the first over.
It was clear pre tour that our chances of success were somewhere between 90% and 95% contingent on Coe scoring runs, and an air of doom and gloom set in when the small bear gloved to the keeper for a duck. The CTCCCC dugout fell silent. Hammond kicked a nearby olive branch. Dillon toked wistfully on a cigarette. Tour virgin and Bagman Oli Roberts got up to bat. Although Baggers inspired little confidence as he arrived at the crease, by jove he proved his doubters partially wrong with several astonishing lofted drives (including one from his first ball), before being caught attempting one outlandish shot too many. Hammo was soon following him back to the hutch (for a trademark high profile duck), and we were firmly on the rocks at 16-3.
Gimson joined opener Cassels B at the crease and the men somewhat restored order with a stand of 53. Pugwash as usual used his bulk to good effect with some lusty blows and it was a great shame when he was held in the deep for 33. Next-Man-In McNaught’s swashbuckling innings of 26 continued the momentum and seemed to inspire Toxicator to finally start to time the ball a tad better and chump a couple of maximums. When their useful stand of 45 eventually came to an end with T Man holing out for 41, it was left to Dillon to try and guide us to a semi respectable total by scoring exclusively in singles (all of them with a very flamboyant yet impotent arc of the bat). He was alas cleaned up with the score on 129, and after Cassels E nudged a few, we were to run out of time. Deano ensuring that the innings ended in inevitably farcical circumstances, running out freshly recruited ringer Shauno with a suicidal, kamikaze single. We had posted 144.
There was little hiding from the fact that the CTCCC squad was woefully short of bowling, but when we took the field, our prospects of defending our modest total improved significantly when Shauno took the ball and came steaming in off a long run. Lo and behold, his talents proved too much for opener Katechis who holed out for just three, Dillon taking the dolly brilliantly at mid-off despite close attention from the nearby Dean.
Hammond had very sportingly decreed that we would bowl two overs each. Shauno excelled with 1-6, and Puggers delivered a very useful 0-12, although his failure to dismiss fellow buccaneer Nikokavuras was to prove costly. With the remainder of our bowling representing Davidson-esque cannon fodder, and Greek National captain and Zimbabwean gun Manoyehe looking ominously familiar with batting, our ship was distinctly unsteady. Willis’ bowling is not as effective on an artificial track as it occasionally is on a Newmarket green top, and our hapless, doughy skipper was carted for 33 from his two as we failed to break the partnership. Cassels B was surprisingly the man to eventually get the breakthrough during a typical spell of beamers, long hops and utter filth (1-33), a clothed pull shot being snared by Shauno at mid-on.
Unfortunately the wicket served only to delay the inevitable for CTC. With our bandana-clad Rhodesian hungrily depositing several trademark Dean full bungers onto the adjacent bowls lawn, his eventual dismissal to the same bowler for a marvellous 86 was to prove inconsequential. The run chase was achieved for the loss of just three wickets and we had suffered a comprehensive fessée. We retired to the excellent poolside cafe in the Marina for beers with the only non-crispy opposition of the tour, with the exception of one Corfusian comparing Cassels E to an ‘innocent pigeon’. There followed a night of being given absolute daggers by the local nightclub dwelling, non-cricketing Greeks (of which there appeared to be many).
Match 2 – vs ouring Side Gouvia
Our second match started at the relatively ungodly hour of 9.30am and had Dean not badgered everyone out of the door at 09.15, we would surely have been put into bat in absentia, and, one by one, timed out. There was an even covering of dew on the ground and with most of the squad desperately trying not to be sick, an inevitable sense of slight trepidation set in.
We had briefly been acquainted with our opposition for the second match (a group of London based Pakistani newsagents also taking part in the tournament) at the airport and at the Marina ground, and were able to identify them as utterly abysmal characters even before they put on their full Pakistan international pyjamas and engaged in what they perceived to be an international standard warm up. They had a huge squad and reluctantly donated us a surplus, eccentric and extremely affable Sri Lanka chap named Nawaz, who didn’t seem to object to being called Nashy.
We were to bat and Hammond opted for an all-Chump opening pairing. The opening bowler was sending it down at reasonable pace and extracted some good bounce from the artificial track. There was no option but to swing for the fences. The Cassels’ took him for a few in a useful opening partnership of 37, but Toxi was soon caught after one slog too many, and Chumpers Snr was run out attempting a suicidal second run.
We couldn’t tell whether or not Coe was ashamed of himself for his duck in our opening game, but he certainly didn’t try very hard to atone. He let himself, his teammates, his family and both his girlfriends down again by sky-ing one up in the air and sheepishly departing for four, leaving us in the unenviable position of relying on The Hams to score most of our runs.
To give him his due, the pink, white and ginger man played a captain’s innings to steady the ship and get us up to 79 before his famous leaky defence saw him clean bowled for an important 20. Jessie Ryder was batting stoically at the other end but was soon to run out of partners as Nashy (1), McNaught (3), Baggers (0) and Dillon (6, accumulated exclusively in singles earned with a flamboyant but important arc of the bat) flew too close to the sun. When Gimson finally fell for 16 it was left to The Jones and our leader to save face, and there was only one way it would end. Deano fell lbw for 2, and The Jones had carried his bat for an excellent nought.
After some dubious local sandwiches, we took the field and got reasonably fired up. None more so than Sheen - desperate to avert another defeat, shaken up by his ‘fall’ from the balcony the previous night, wired by his lack of sleep and wound up by the opposition being a band of unacceptably poor blokes, he ran in and bowled a brand of fast, lightly turning leg breaks the accuracy of which defied any spell he had ever bowled in his career thus far. He delivered a sensational 4-1-2-18 having pinned one of the oppo lbw and sent another packing a couple of overs later.
He was ably supported at the other end, by our perma-grinning Trojan Horse Nashy, who, it turned out, bowled an exceptionally accurate and effective brand of leg spin. Was it to be an extraordinary victory of the underdogs dethroning a hypercompetitive, unintelligible gaggle of complete tools? Alas no – we ran out of steam, Gimson went for 1-41 from his four, Hammond and Baggers could not ruffle any feathers, and with no reserve bowling, we were left to watch the oppo’s keeper play a winning innings. We were to suffer a 5 wicket defeat and another setback in our hopes of victory in the tournament. There was nothing for it but to seek consolation in the arms of the local ‘rippers.
Match 3 – vs Corfu Pakistanis, Gouvia
Our final game on tour followed a night of lavish celebrations in Corfu’s premier yet mostly deserted nightclub. The drinks flowed, and we exceeded ourselves in being ill-prepared to play cricket, this time against a very strong Corfu Pakistanis side (some of whom were rumoured to play a cricket match every day). However, with Deano’s bowling inexplicably on song, Coe due a score and the evergreen Nashy once again in our ranks, we were confident of victory.
The Girth saw fit that we would take the field this time, which we did to varying degrees of enthusiasm. While a much less hungover and very pumped Deano was limbering up effusively, a still paralytic T Man’s weary request for fine leg to fine leg was granted.
Deano took the new nut, and maintained his highly effective bowling, brilliantly cleaning up opener Israr in his third over. Shortly afterwards, talented opposition number 3 Usman top edged, high in the air, and the ball descended slowly and directly towards the fielder at square leg. It was scarcely credible. The Pakistanis were to be two down. We had them on chapatti. We were already congratulation each other when we observed with some horror that the fielder under the arching ball was none other than The Jones. He positioned himself well, steadied himself and braced for impact. Unfortunately, Medusa had turned his hands to stone. The ball bounced and landed in slow motion on the grass. There was dismay and mirth in equal measure.
Following this reprieve, Usman set about hitting our bowling to every part of the ground. He hit sixes into the Marina. He carted us into the adjacent field. He flayed us over the pavilion onto the bowls lawn. He humped us into the olive tree groves. He rode his luck at times, but was never held, and went on to record an unbeaten hundred with some very able bludgeoning at the other end. Gimson went for 53 off his four, Hammond 46, Roberts 15 off his one. Only Dean finished with respectable figures (1-31). No mercy was shown and we were set a target of 217.
Without wishing to dilly dally, we strolled out to attempt the chase. Just as Hammo had been falsely confident of being able to ‘keep them under 170, lads’, Coe suggested to opening partner Cassels B that the total was attainable, if we were to bat patiently. Toxi attempted to deposit the very next ball into the Marina and holed out to mid-off with the score on just 10.
Thankfully, it seemed like Coe had finally remembered which end of the fucking bat to hold, and attacked the bowling with some gusto. We quickly built hopes that he would register an unbeaten 180* and win us the game. Moreover, our most experienced player and on field leader, The Girth, was heading out to join Coe in the run chase. This wilier, pastier Damian Lewis would surely help nudge us up to a strong position from which to execute a perfect run chase. We looked forward to him playing a steady innings.
A few minutes later, we heard a cheer and looked up to see Will’s stumps exploding all over the ground – he had gone back to a full ball and was on his way for a duck. He looked distraught as he trudged off, knowing how he had struggled so far on tour, and how costly his lack of runs would be. McNaught was in no mood for sympathy. A loud shout of ‘Hammo: NIL!’ was not appreciated, and Will fumed for 20 minutes under a tree before returning to the dugout.
Our utterly abject, humiliating failure to be competitive in the match was gradually sealed as one by one, the CTC batsmen were caught attempting to score quick runs. This eventually included Coe for a battling 38. The Jones and Dean were the last men to fall and The Innocent Pigeon carried his bat. We were all out for 91 having failed to bat our 20 overs and avoid a crushing 126 run defeat.
The clearly embarrassed, non-beer-drinking opposition posed for a team photo with us before disappearing.
Post Mortem
Thus concluded a very enjoyable, if not particularly successful cricket tour. Against strong opposition, it was safe to say that we had neither prepared well enough for the games by not abstaining from alcohol, nor had we brought a strong enough squad. For the already eagerly awaited Romania / Croatia tour 2015, this reporter feels certain that Dean will ensure that both these inconsistencies are corrected, lest his club’s reputation as one that never wins a game is sealed.
Tour awards
Player of the tour: Nat Gimson
Best Tourist: Oliver Roberts
Clubman of the Year: George Dean