Are you suffering from a post-Adelaide cricket withdrawal? Struggling to sleep while you count down to the Brisbane Test?
Never mind, get yourself comfortable and put on the bedside lamp as I present three cricketing tales all with more than an element of truth to them. Only names have been changed to protect the innocent … and the plain stupid.
Twiggy and the Golden Duck
‘Twiggy’ Woods was one of those great characters every team needs. You wouldn’t describe him as a great batsman. He certainly wasn’t in the team for his bowling.
A specialist fielder would be more apt and even then his fielding was indifferent. It didn’t really matter because Twiggy was so enthusiastic and such a great team player that he was always great to be around.
Our team was batting one day and I had managed to stay in while wickets fell at the other end. Eventually Twiggy came out in his customary number eleven role. Being the not out batsman I thought I should wander over and offer him some advice.
When I met him I said, “Twiggy, do you know you only have one pad on?”
“Yes” he replied.
“Do you know you aren’t wearing any batting gloves?”
“Don’t worry Mo,” he said, grinning that broad grin, “I’m going to get a golden duck.”
I was slightly taken aback but mumbled something about putting on a partnership and took up my position at the non-strikers end.
The bowler delivered an innocuous delivery outside the off stump. Twiggy took an almighty swipe and – crack! – he middled it beautifully and we commenced running. Halfway down the wicket I told him that we should get at least two.
As I turned for the second I saw the one solitary outfielder sprint across the turf, hurl himself lengthways and then grasp an improbably spectacular catch.
As we walked back to the pavilion all Twiggy could say was “I told you so.” Then he beamed his irresistible grin.
Thomas and the Runaway Car
That old oval at the back of the high school hadn’t been used for years. Due to some of the local grounds being unavailable, our B grade men’s team were allocated a game there.
Now you may have heard of the term ‘gardening’ to describe a batsman patting down a rough spot on the pitch.
On this day the term was used much more accurately as we needed to make a mercy dash to the nearest hardware store to procure a whole set of gardening tools. We used mattocks, shovels, rakes and edge trimmers to hack out 35 years of growth to get down to the concrete pitch underneath.
It was the closest I’ve come to archaeology on a cricket field.
For the purposes of this tale I need to describe the surrounds. On one side of the oval there were some magnificent gum trees, near which the players parked their cars in order to take advantage of the shade.
In fact our 12th man, ‘Stinger’ McRae was lounging back in his Torana, listening to the radio with the driver’s door wide open.
From the boundary near the gum trees the level of the field fell away alarmingly. The slope at Lord’s didn’t hold a candle to this. The oval levelled out slightly at the pitch but fell away even more steeply on the other side.
The players had to make certain adjustments. On one side it was almost impossible to score anything other than a single; on the other even a gentle prod could speed away to the mosquito-infested creek at the bottom of the slope.
Our team was in the field and play was meandering along as it often does when suddenly an awful metallic noise resembling a giant tin opener followed by some coarse oaths was heard coming from the direction of the gum trees.
Looking up the slope we were greeted by a strange sight – a car rolling down the hill with a cricketer in hot pursuit.
One of the opposition players, we’ll call him Thomas, had neglected to engage the hand brake on his EH Holden. Thomas, suddenly aware, began to run down the slope in an attempt to catch up to his car.
Nearing the pitch the speed of the car slowed as the oval levelled out. He had to act fast. If the old Holden crossed the pitch, the slope on the other side would have sent it careering away into the mosquito infested creek.
He lunged, opened the door and managed to stop the car in mid-pitch. There was nothing else to do but give Thomas a polite round of applause.
Luckily nobody was hurt. In fact we thought no damage had been done either. Remember that twisting metallic noise? Old Stinger McRae was still sitting in his Torana listening to the radio but there was no driver’s door to be seen.
We eventually located it halfway up the slope near the midwicket boundary.
Make mine unleaded!
‘Slugger’ Deans had been in a batting form slump recently. In fact his batting had never been that good to start with, but he took it very seriously especially as this was his first ever season of playing competitive cricket.
Slugger had been so excited that he purchased himself a beautiful Gray Nicolls scoop bat. It was one of those fancy bats with more scoops than a double cone gelato. We were all very impressed, that’s for sure.
To rectify his form slump he had taken his inspiration from some of the professional players who used an extra heavy bat in training. Slugger announced that he had made “some adjustments” to his playing gear.
I was giving Slugger a few throw downs prior to him going out to bat. Surprisingly, instead of the satisfying ‘thunk’ of willow on leather, the bat made a slightly springy sound not unlike one of those stubborn old garage doors when you close them firmly.
Out in the middle his first gentle push down the wicket almost took the umpire’s kneecaps off.
A block on the offside shot to the boundary and a gentle tap almost cleared the flags at mid-on. A ball on the stumps brought him undone and he trudged off the field disconsolate.
I quizzed him on the ‘adjustments’ he had made to his gear. Slugger passed me his bat which I promptly dropped and just about put my back out. The thing weighed a ton. Slugger then fessed up.
Being a metal worker he had come up with a brilliant idea for improving his technique with a heavier bat. That’s right, he filled the scoops of his bat with molten lead, painting over it with red paint to complete the subterfuge.
They say a heavy bat weighs around 3lbs 10oz. I would estimate Slugger’s bat was closer to 30lbs.
Eyelids heavy? You can turn the lamp off now. Goodnight.
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