Poetry Corner: A Christmas Tale

Not very seasonal, I have to confess! But all the same I did enjoy penning this poem. I want to make it perfectly clear, because I have no wish to be taken to task for defamation of character, that to my certain knowledge none of the people whose names pop up in this ditty behave remotely like this in real life. Although given the recent Lord's 'windowgate' maybe not...

At the time this was written the late, great Bill Frindall was great and not late, and Kevin Pietersen had not yet been relieved of his 'head boy' responsibilities. Which is why it all seems a little dated now! Anyhow, I hope you enjoy it, and if you are Phil Tuffnell, Mark Ramprakash, Freddie Flintoff and especially Mike Gatting, please don't sue me...

A Christmas Tale


T’was the night before Christmas
And down in the pub
The cricketers sat down
To cheap booze and grub.

The WAGs all gyrated
To bad karaoke.
Whilst Tuffers attempted
A poor hokeycokey.

It was a night of celebratory fun
And back slapping.
The applause rang out
In continuous clapping.

Butch stood on a table
Conducting the tunes
Played by his team mates
On their knees, using spoons.

In the midst of their chorus
There came a loud swoosh
In the chimney stood a man
With a beard like a bush.

A jolly old soul
With a nose red from drink.
And a belly that had no
Inclination to shrink.

The cricketers stood open mouthed
In surprise.
It looked as if Santa
Had scoffed lots of pies!

The big fellow in red stood
All aglow from the kindle.
“Don’t you know who I am?”
Tuffers answered. “Bill Frindall?”

He exclaimed, “I am Santa!
There’s no need to fear.
I’ve come to imbibe
And spread good Christmas cheer!”

“I have presents,
For all you young cricketing scamps.”
He looked down at his list
And then asked “Which is Ramps?”

A timid young man
Slowly raised his right hand.
Santa asked “Are you really
The best in the land?”

“You’re joking!” Laughed Warnie.
“He’s never the best!
Any fool can wear sequins
And puff out his chest!”

“Ah, shuddup!” Exclaimed Tuffers.
“You loud-mouthed buffoon!”
And he pulled down his trousers
And gave his best moon.

The more that Ramps squinted
The more he felt certain
It was someone he knew
Dressed in a red curtain!

The large, jolly figure
Delved around in his sack
And pulled out a long parcel
From amidst a great stack.

He said, “I know what you want;
It will help with your batting.”
And then Ramps clicked his fingers.
And declared. “You’re Mike Gatting!”

Santa shushed his young friend
With a raise of his brow.
His cover was blown
But he wanted no row.

Ramps gave a loud whoop
And held up his present
The handle felt comfy
The grip was quite pleasant.

“A brand new Gray-Nicholls,
Exactly your thing.”
Santa warned, “However, take off
both the paper and string!”

The cricketer swished
With his bat in his hand
He was surely the greatest
In all Eng-er-land!

He thought, “Santa Gatting’s
A very fine bloke.”
And removed Murray Goodwin’s right leg
With one stroke.

A cry came from behind
“Hey, what about me?”
“What’s your name?” Asked Santa.
The reply came “KP!”

Santa looked down his list.
“Do you deserve a new toy?”
“But of course!” Cried young Kevin.
“I am the head boy!”

Tuffers was sniffling.
“I’m not on the list.
This party is rubbish
And Santa is pissed!”

“There, there!” Soothed Santa,
As he looked round the halls.
“What was it you wanted?”
Tuffers cried “balls!”

Nel glared with the warmth
Of a predatory hunter.
“I’ll have those, thanks.
One for me, one for Gunther.”

One by one all the cricketers
Clamoured for gifts.
And then all the counties
Began to show rifts.

Whose presents were better?
Whose bats were more flash?
Who had shinier willow
Than Mark Ramprakash.

The Middlesex players
All huddled together
They jumped on poor Sussex
To give them a leather.

Kent turned on Essex
And Hants, in a hurry.
Whilst everyone banded
Together ‘gainst Surrey.

Before too long had passed
An almighty fight
Had broken out in the pub
And raged on through the night.

The fists they were flailing
The punches rained down.
Santa Gatting could only
Look on with a frown.

Time for a swift exit,
He thought with a sigh
As he watched Michael Vaughan
Get a bail in the eye.

He turned to retreat
Whilst the building caught fire.
Tripping over the still form
Of poor Matthew Prior.

But as he ran out
To catch up with his sleigh
He could see it was not
Where he’d parked it that day!

In its place was a note
Weighted down with a stone.
Santa Gatting clutched
At his head with a moan.

“Dear Santa,
I’ve stolen your getaway car.
Rudolph told me that you're
Just too heavy by far.

Do not fear, I’ll return it
Just as soon as I’m ready.
But for now, here’s my pedallo.
Lots of love, little Freddie.” xxx

What a Difference a Day Makes...

Or a week, to be more precise. T20 mania has taken a complete hold in the schedules. Now, as I’ve mentioned before I like a bit of T20 but it would be a lie if I said it was my favourite form of cricket. Yes, as my dad laughingly labelled me at the dinner table today, I am a ‘purist’. My sister thinks I’m nuts: she’d rather eat recycled cat litter than watch 4 day cricket, but coming from someone whose favourite movie musical has the unforgettable line ‘a man can’t sleep when he sleeps with sheep’, I think her ability to pass reasonable judgement on anything is in dispute...

Since the Derbyshire win the wheels haven’t so much fallen off for Surrey as been subject to a couple of slow punctures. After a few promising wins the boys lost comprehensively to a classy Hampshire, suffered the ignominy of having their match against Glamorgan rained off for a single point, and were today thumped by Gloucestershire. I can forgive the loss to Hants, who look to be a formidable force in the shorter form stuff, but the Gloucestershire loss wasn’t good any way you look at it. Especially after it started so well! A great knock from Cockbain was the difference, but you have to say Surrey rather let the Gloucestershire batsmen get away when they had the chance to tighten the thumbscrews on them. It wasn’t really helped when Surrey lost a very early wicket (heard that one before)! From that point on it seemed to destabilise the Surrey batsmen. Alas, teams in our group will look to capitalise on this weakness.

This is what I have learned then in the last few weeks:

Mark Church and Johnny Barran are very cool in the face of incoming cricket balls; if they’d been on the Titanic I reckon they’d simply have gone down with the ship announcing it was ‘a bit of an inconvenience’. Extremely professional in every respect: I fear I would have uttered a “sh*t, that bl**dy well nearly hit me in the b*llocking face!”

If Rory Hamilton-Brown loses his wicket for less than 10 runs the Surrey batsmen start clucking about like headless chickens. A bit harsh of me, perhaps. But given the amount of times it seems to happen I think I’m probably right.

Ramps is not playing the shorter forms of the game at the moment because, as we supposed, he doesn’t have the speed or general fitness given his ongoing recovery from his knee operation. We all guessed this was the reason, but there has been a surprising lack of communication on this point. In fact it was the ‘London Evening Standard' that actually bothered to let the fans know what was going on. I heard someone a few weeks back at the Grange say he’d been dropped because he “was too old”, which nearly resulted in me decking them (derogatory remarks made about my favourite players in any sport tends to bring out my latent maternal instincts). And to be honest, unlikely as this reason was for Ramps’ exclusion, you do tend to wonder what the situation is when there is no actual word from the club itself. The Rampants are collectively paranoid as it is without this kind of thing!

Walk-on girls are not popular with fans. I wanted to call it ‘glamgate’; save that it’s not exactly headline news, and also it makes it sound as if Cosgrove has been up to something naughty in an all-you-can-eat buffet. Basically, some clever chap (I’ll be surprised if it wasn’t a chap) decided the Surrey players were incapable of walking unaided to the pitch at the start of a game and so they would be escorted by ‘glamorous females’. A bit like Old Mr Grace in ‘Are You Being Served’ with his array of nurses.

Speaking as a non-glamorous female, of the rather plain and stocky variety, my comments are probably going to sound a tad suspicious. I did however, like many of my friends and several Surrey supporters I know of, question the reasoning – and indeed sanity – of the whole thing. I rather thought the idea of going to watch a cricket match was to see cricket, not scantily clad girls. Or is that me just being silly?

Anyhow, a small but vocal insurrection soon informed the relevant persons of the lack of wisdom in implementing the ghastly and tasteless idea. It was swiftly dropped. A big gold star to whoever had the courage to call it off: a big kick up the arse to whoever thought of it in the first place...

Kevin Pietersen is not popular with everyone - and to those die-hard fans who put county above country in particular. Witness this from the Gloucestershire game:


“The next batsman in for Surrey is Kevin Pietersen...”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOHISSSSSSSSSSS...”

I mean, what was that about? Even I wouldn’t show that level of discourtesy to KP and he’s not my favourite player by a long way. Poor man just wanted to turn up, do some batting and help Surrey to win the game (hopefully not getting out to a left hand spinner in the process). Well, three out of four ain’t bad...

I have my new smart phone. I can now listen to the commentary at work *blows raspberry at employers who block internet access to cricket*. Of course, I can’t help but notice that since the purchase of the aforesaid gadget, Surrey have done nothing but lose. So, now it seems I can enjoy being miserable in real time as opposed to when I go home after work and check the scores...

Good game, good game!

As Bruce Forsyth might say.

Yes, it ended in a draw that did no favours to either Essex or Surrey in their race to propel themselves up the Division 2 table. I know that a lot of people were predicting a draw at Whitgift even before the game had even started; such was the reputation the ground has as a batsman’s paradise. But even so, it was a contest that had much to be recommended.

You had Napier smashing sixes galore, equalling world records in the process.

You had Cook showing everyone what a classy bat he is, and how much he’s matured over the years into a really smart cricketer.

You had KP trying – and succeeding – to regain his form with some hard graft.

You had RHB making a very smart hundred.

You had a run-chase that, until an hour after lunch on the final day, really looked as if Surrey might be able to go on the attack and sneak a second championship win on the bounce.

It was a gallant effort from Surrey, and fair play to Essex for some very entertaining cricket – especially the stout-hearted defence from the lower order: something that yet again proved to be the Surrey side’s undoing. Unfortunately with Meaker off the field of play and Dernbach not available for the game (he was away getting fivefers for the England Lions) their chief tail-end busters were out of the equation.

Should I mention the shocking amount of extras Surrey managed to garner over the four days? I probably shouldn’t...I know what the sight of a blossoming extras column does to poor Bev! The total may well have been a lot more appealing to chase but for the ghastly 66 in the two Surrey efforts with the ball. Take that away from the 366 or so that they were required to get for a win, and although still unlikely with so little time left in the game they may well have swung the bat a bit more towards the end.

Still, the nice atmosphere of a resplendent Whitgift was expertly delivered by Churchy, Johnny Barran and their Essex counterparts. It does sound like the sort of ground you would really want to make an effort to visit if you were in a position to do so. Maybe one day...

And of course, there was one surprise I hadn’t banked on. When Mr Ramprakash got out for a 12 ball duck, I didn’t hear a peep out of my dad. Not one snort of derision. No teasing. A miracle, in short.

Well, they did say the world was about to end...

Baby, it's cold outside!

Scotland v Surrey: CB40 at the Grange

And, as expected, Surrey made it four out of four in their CB40 campaign. A trip to the Grange – a very cold trip, I might add – resulted in the anticipated victory over the Scottish Saltires on Sunday. This was a game I was lucky enough to attend in part.

I say in part because I took the decision to leg it homeward with 8 overs remaining. In better weather I might have stayed to the end, and whilst I was aware that neither team nor indeed poor Churchy were in a position to likewise escape from the cold, I decided that when I could no longer feel my nose the time was probably right to call it a day. Blue nose, black hair and red hat: they were about the only colourful things on an otherwise bleak, grey Edinburgh day.

Now, I love Edinburgh. When the sun is shining, or when it’s snowing, there is nowhere more beautiful or picturesque. However, on a horrible overcast day (something we do get more than our fair share of) it frankly makes you want to curl up under a duvet and hide. I certainly wish I’d brought a duvet with me! I got there in plenty of time, chose a likely spot near the boundary boards, then settled in for the start of the game. I have to say that Chris Adams gets bonus points for donning shorts in what was definitely not a day for the faint hearted. I did consider getting a pic or two, but then thought it possibly wasn’t terribly sporting or indeed ladylike to be taking sneaky pics of the Surrey manager’s legs. Not that I do that kind of thing usually, you understand.

Honest.

Anyhow, neither Ramps nor KP were playing. The former didn’t surprise me but I have to say the latter did somewhat...I’m not sure why but I had kind of expected him to be there. It didn’t bother me especially: it was specifically de Bruyn and Spriegel I had come to see in the absence of the maestro. I was richly rewarded with the opportunity to take lots of photos...worryingly it appears I took 414 with my recently revived camera (the one that KP didn’t kill last year). I wasn’t aware I’d taken even half that amount! Spriegel of course takes top honours with his gallant 80+, and subsequently his long stay at the crease meant that most of my 414 photos appear to be of him. I would like to take this opportunity to assure Matthew that I am not a crazed stalker: I’m merely an amateur photographer who sometimes forgets to put the lens cap back on!

I was pretty sure at one point I spotted Churchy on the roof. He must have been mighty nithered by the cold, even if he had the best view in the city! I can’t remember much about the game itself. This doesn’t mean it was boring: it means that the cold had permeated my brain to the extent that I was debating leaving the Grange 5 overs into the Scotland innings. I was receiving texts from my trusty band of fellow Rampants: something along the lines of:

ME: I spy RHB!

ANSWER: Is he looking good?

ME: I dunno...he didn’t stick around long enough for me to find out!

And so on and so forth.

The other nagging worry which stopped me from relaxing and enjoying myself as much as I would have liked was the fact my PC monitor had chosen that morning to blow up. Being disconnected from the internet these days is a bit like going cold turkey. It did not make for a relaxed Miah! No Facebook! No Twitter! I’d have to go back to drawing, embroidering, reading books and being intellectual like wot I used to be before I got a computer! The horror! Well, it made my mind up: I am definitely getting a smart phone so I can listen to the cricket at work.

Much as I enjoyed freezing my bahookie off whilst watching Surrey thrashing my home team, a feat which is a bit like watching Godzilla take on Mole from ‘Wind in the Willows’, the day was somewhat spoiled by the fact I was surrounded by people who didn’t seem to have a clue what was going on (or at least liked to give the impression they did). First of all, a man who decided to come in and sleep with his paper on his knee. How can you sleep with gale-force winds blowing all the empty seats around you? And when he went it was to be replaced by a young lady and gentleman, the former who had decided that Ramps no longer played at all for Surrey because “he was too old”.

I bit my tongue.

The worst was the gentleman who scarce stopped talking to his friend for four hours, and who was complaining bitterly about the amount of South African born people in the Surrey squad. He was most disappointed to look at his program and find out that Spriegel was born in England! He also had the temerity to chastise the female announcer who had about three different attempts at saying de Bruyn’s name without being able to decide which the correct pronunciation was. Of course, Mr Know-it-all decided that his version was correct. At which point I was rather rude and cut in to the conversation and told him exactly how to pronounce it! I’m not usually that ill mannered, but I was rather fed up at this point and I figured that as he was sharing his conversation with everyone in a twenty foot radius that it wouldn’t matter if I did likewise!

By the end of the day I learned that his brother-in-law’s wife makes excellent crisps, he doesn’t like cats or small dogs and he doesn’t play as much tennis as he used to. Frankly, I’m surprised his wife didn’t take one of his tennis rackets and smash it over his head! He left to get something to eat at lunchtime whilst Spriegs was still making steady and relentless progress, convinced that Surrey wouldn’t get much over 200.

Is there ever an appropriate moment to blow raspberries from the comfort of your own blog?

Times; they are a' changing

So, it would be safe to say that the pre-season team re-jigging has well and truly begun! We have already:

Released Usman Afzaal

Presumably lost Andre Nel

Gained Kevin Pietersen permanently

Gained Zander de Bruyn

Gained Tom Maynard

Gained Yasir Arafat

Signed up Rory Burns, Zafar Ansari, Tom Lancefield and Tom Jewell from the lower ranks.

Actually, if you have all of the team (or at least most of it) firing at once you are in danger of having a cohesive little unit for what seems like the first time in an age. You have a wealth of youngsters who the skipper knows very well, you have older heads like de Bruyn (who I shall hitherto refer to as Zander because I’m struggling with typing his surname in repeatedly) and Ramps (when/if fit) and the occasional appearance of Pietersen. From a Surrey point of view it’s a real shame to lose Tremlett to England although understandable - and well deserved – but I do think that the signing of Arafat has been a canny one, especially as he will be available all season. Of course, most of the Rampants were very pleased by the fact Yasir’s rather easy on the eye as well, but that of course didn’t come into my line of thinking at all.

I’m guessing Liz is shaking her head at me now. Hehehehehe...

Tom Maynard’s an interesting acquisition. He had a lot to prove and left his beloved Glamorgan in unfortunate circumstances, but he certainly has the ability to be a very destructive batsman and I could see him making a mark in the one day games in particular. The young Surrey lads are all potential stars waiting in the wings to make an impression, much as Jason Roy has already done.

The loss of Andre Nel is a difficult one to quantify. Perhaps he hasn’t done as much with the ball on those flat, beautiful Oval wickets as you would hope, yet there’s just something about Andre that made him a box office draw. That wonderful stand with Dernbach last year will stick in my memory for many years to come. As for Afzaal, I wish him well at Derbyshire. I’ll miss him running over to Ramps every time he took a wicket with an improbably slow ball, and hearing how Mr R kept running out the way!

We have new sponsors. Brit Insurance have gone after a solid amount of years supporting the team, which means unfortunately my Surrey drinking mug is out of date! Does this mean I have to buy a new one or do I just pretend that nothing’s changed, as the ignorant so-and-sos at work won’t know any different (except perhaps Ian, who strikes me as the sort of person who would know that kind of thing)? Kia is now the official sponsor at the Oval. I keep wanting to say ‘IKEA’ but that of course is another kettle of flat pack self-assembly furniture...

And last but certainly not least, Bill Gordon is no longer head groundsman, although he is still there in an assistant/advisory capacity. If the new fella that’s come in has understudied Bill he will no doubt be very successful (and I want to point out again that I was not the Rampant who made reference to Scott Patterson being extremely ‘fit’). I mean, honestly! Also, a big thanks to whomever it was who agreed that we could have Deirdre’s ashes scattered at the Oval. I’m sure the idea would have tickled her, and it will give every future trip to Kennington a certain poignancy.

Whilst players come and players go, Dominic Cork continues to wobble and weave his magic on the ice every Sunday night (although for how long remains to be seen). I don’t think he’s going to win Dancing on Ice. I’m not even sure he’s going to be there next week, but fair play to him for having a go at what is an extremely tough sport.

You should’ve done Strictly, Corky!

Kevin Pietersen broke my camera!

 
Of course, Kevin Pietersen got his revenge for my inadvertent hexing whilst we watched him, grand old Duke of York style, marching out to the middle then marching back again.

I’d been happily snapping away with my camera and decided grudgingly that I hadn’t taken enough of KP. It is true that I had taken quite a few of Ramps, Tremlett, Roy and Dernbach but there are times when you have to put your natural bias to one side and take a more subjective view of things. Kevin was never especially close to where we were sitting – even Ramps was closer this time, much to our collective delight – but at some point in the afternoon I decided it was time to zoom in on Kevin and give him a bit of camera time.

I pointed my camera at him, took two pictures in rapid succession, and then KP turned and looked straight down my lens...

Whereapon my camera died.

Not only is Pietersen on his day one of England’s finest players but he has the ability to fry expensive digital equipment with a single look. It’s an impressive skill to have, without question.

Thing is, should I send Kevin the bill or should I, as my mother suggested, put it down to simply exhausting the thing by taking so many pictures of Ramps and Tremlett?

A Prediliction for prediction!

It’s official. I have witchy powers.

We sat at the Oval last week and watched the action eagerly, awaiting the arrival of the mighty Kevin Pietersen in his bid to kick-start his England career again. One of the Rampants jokingly asked how many balls KP might face before he got out. Instantly I replied ‘two’.

Two balls later, Kevin was walking back to the pavilion.

I did however reassure them that he would make one more run in the second innings than he did in the first. It was a day or so before this was put to the test, but when his time came round again, sure enough KP scored the princely sum of one run before he was sent back to the pavilion once again.

Sorry Kev!

He's not the Messiah!

Not sure I’ll bother with an actual match report, mostly because I’m tired and I won’t do it justice! I will say that we comprehensively lost to Worcestershire in our penultimate game of the year, but I think that’s fair enough considering they played so beautifully (especially Solanki). It does, alas, mean that we have zero chance of qualifying for the next round of games, which is disappointing but sort of where we are as a team at the moment. We have glorious, brilliant moments interspersing – how shall we say – considerably less glorious occasions. We’re not quite ready to challenge for trophies.

But, in a spirit of supreme optimism, let us at least smile and be happy that we have those little highlights. Two years ago we didn’t have anything to celebrate other than the marvellous achievement of Ramps’ hundredth hundred. Surrey have come on a lot since then and anyone who thinks otherwise is clearly extremely blinkered in their views.

I admit I can be a little blinkered. Take the matter of Kevin 'He's not the Messiah' Pietesen’s signing on loan to Surrey: a good exercise in putting ‘bums on seats’ if ever there was one. It seems that the ECB were the ones who asked Surrey to take on England’s out of nick batting whiz: the writing was on the wall the moment Middlesex confirmed they weren’t going to have him at Lords. Now, I have to hold my hand up and say that I fall into the sceptic camp where KP is concerned, but I guess if he does rediscover his mojo it’s good for the England team, and we’ll hardly be seeing him at the Oval anyway.

It’s not strictly a personality thing where he’s concerned: at the end of the day, I don’t know him. I think my love of county cricket and the fact that I am strictly a neutral when it comes to international cricket means that I find it difficult to engage with those whose participation in the championship is limited to once in a blue moon. Yes, tests are the highest level you can excel at but it doesn’t have the same hold over me as the county matches do. What can I say; I’m a history buff who loves facts, figures and tales of legendary batsmen and bowlers from yesteryear. The championship just seems much more accessible and cosy to me. Slightly less cut and thrust. It appeals to my inner sentimentalism, something that KP doesn’t at the present time!

But, I am fair minded enough to give him a try. The Rampants are fairly split down the middle on the whole KP thing, but I shan’t spoil it for my friends by being a grouch when KP comes out to bat against Glamorgan. Unless he plays and Ramps doesn’t, for some reason.

In which case I shall sulk all week.