What goes round comes round

I SHOULD have realised that it wasn’t going to be my day on Saturday when I woke up with an injured knee.
I couldn’t understand it because I went to bed feeling as fit as a fiddle but woke up feeling like I’d been knee-capped.
It was strange because I had a dream about me playing cricket and scoring 46 not out.
Given my current form it must have been a dream but I decided I didn’t pull out of White Coppice’s match with Great Eccleston 2nds because I couldn’t tell the skipper I’d injured by knee while sleeping.
Having said that, I wasn’t the only player injured as Coppice’s opening bowler Wayne Dixon had some striking red duct tape on his thumb after cutting himself on a tin of spagetti. You couldn’t make it up.
It’s said in cricket that ‘things even themselves even out over the course of a season’ and you’ve got to ‘take the rough with the smooth’ when it comes to decisions.
Well on Saturday it came home to roost.
Earlier this season I had a huge slice of luck in Coppice’s game at Great Eccleston.
I was on 43 when I played forward to a leg break  which was caught by the keeper after a deflection of some sort off me.
“Howzat?” they appealed in unison but the umpire was unmoved.
“You gloved it,” said wicketkeeper Reza Hussain accusingly.
“No I haven’t,” I replied and I wasn’t actually lying.
Had there been a ‘Snicko’ or ‘Hotspot’ available I think I would have hung my head in shame because of the likelihood of a white mark appearing on the splice of my bat, which then deflected off my shoulder to the keeper.
I’m not proud of it but in the moment of battle you sometimes react instinctively by not walking.
Well fast forward to Saturday and it was clear the Great Eccleston lads had long memories.
I walked out to bat at No 5 and second ball pitched on leg stump and, given the green wicket, cut down the leg side.
I aimed to play a leg glance but then changed my mind.
There are two opinions in cricket – the one that counts and the one that doesn’t.
Well in my opinion (the one that doesn’t count) I missed it by a mile and the only sound was it hitting my pad.
However in the opinion of the umpire (the one that counts) I nicked it and his finger went up quicker than Usain Bolt out of the blocks.
“That’s what I call Karma,” said Great Ecc’s Jeremy Whittle, who was the unlucky bowler at their place when I didn’t walk.
I should say from the outset that I have absolutely no problem with the opposition or the official.
What goes around comes around. The umpire gave his decision and I accept it 100 per cent.
However that doesn’t mean I wasn’t absolutely distraught.
You can always tell how  mad I feel about a decision by the number of times I walk around the pitch.
Well on Saturday I stomped my way around White Coppice’s picturesque ground four times.
My record is 17 circuits of Carnforth’s postage stamp ground after an LBW decision that stil winds me up five years after it happened.
I can’t help myself. I love my cricket. Passion isn’t something you can turn on and off like a tap.
It’s the reason we turn up every Saturday.
Great Eccleston deserved to win and I shook the hands of all their players afterwards.
I also shook the hand of the umpire who’d given me out.
“Well batted,” he said. I can’t believe he was talking about my two-ball duck that he was instrumental in so I can only assume he must have had the same  dream of me when I got 46 not out!
I said it wasn’t my day.

 

CJD umpire can walk on water

THERE’S something beautifully absurd about cricket in the rain in England.
On Saturday the weather wiped out all the area’s cricket fixtures.
God must have mistaken Leyland captain Dave Makinson’s pre-match warm-up for a rain dance as his team’s chances of winning the Northern League were washed away.
For our part White Coppice CC dragged ourselves up to Fulwood and Broughton and waited for the inevitable decision to call off the game
I swear that if Hurricane Irene had hit Lancashire instead of the US last week then we’d still have dutifully turned up at 1pm on Saturday on the half chance of playing.
I feared the worst on Saturday when I arrived at Fulwood and Broughton on Saturday and saw our umpire Colin Dawber wearing a pair of shorts.
It was chucking down with rain, the skies were skate grey and Colin, whose initials are CJD, was wearing a pair of blue shorts.
“Colin,” I said. “If you can’t see the fact that it’s chucking it down what chance have you got of seeing an edge?”
I like Colin. He waited until the square was completely covered in rain before calling an end to proceedings.
Personally I think this was so Colin could prove he could walk on water but we’ll never know.
It’s always been this way. When I played for Chorley in the Northern League I remember we once drove all the way to  Fleetwood in driving rain and found seagulls bobbing up and down on huge puddles in the outfield.
An hour later the umpires needed waders as they carried out a pitch inspection. “We’ll give another it 15 minutes,” was the conclusion.
On Saturday both White Coppice and Fulwood and Broughton  wanted to play but commonsense prevailed as neither side can win the league.
The biggest loser was our own Stephen Parkinson, who now can’t win the division’s highest batting average  because he needs a minimum of 12 knocks to qualify. He currently has nine to his name and with only two games left it looks like Darren ‘Nudger’ Eccles will win it again.  “I think you can still qualify,” I said to Parky.
“How do you work that one out?” responded the free-scoring milkman.
“Well,” I said. “You had about that many innings last week in your knock against Longridge as you gave that that many chances.”
We might not have played in Saturday but there was some good banter in the changing room. White Coppice’s answer Victor Meldrew – aka Tony Moore – looked like  a US Squadie with the shortest haircut anyone could ever remember.  It turns out he asked his other half to get the clippers out and give him the quick once over.
Unfortunately he didn’t understand that a third of an inch was the equivalent of a scalping.  It was then my turn to cop it. I was an easy target as I’m about three weeks late for my regular haircut.
“Who are you?” asked Parky. “Chewvbacca from Star Wars?”
When the cricket season finally finishes it’s the changing room banter I’ll miss.

Is your season over? Take the ‘If The Cap Fits’ test

YOU always know when you’ve reached the last embers of the cricket campaign when the new football season starts and you’re into September.
Despite the fact that there is still a lot to play for in our local leagues, the sinking inevitability that your Saturday afternoons are about to change forever looms large.
Other than the fact that it hastens the end of the season, I for one am not sad to see the end of August.
The wickets should be at their hardest but we’ve had so much rain in August it’s been like batting in a rice field.
The track at White Coppice on Saturday had that many holes in I thought I was batting on teenage acne!
For those teams battling relegation or fighting for promotion, I wish you well.
My thoughts go out to teams like Eccleston, Leyland, Charnock Richard and Euxton, whose entire season will be determined by the fate of the next fortnight.
It’s not the fear of failure that drives you mad, it’s the  lingering smell of hope.
However for teams like White Coppice, who have clocked up nine wins and nine defeats, Hoghton, Croston, Whittle, Brinscall and Mawdesley, there is only pride, vanity and averages to play for as we can neither go up or down.
For those in any doubt that the spectre of the season’s ends is on the horizon, then answer the following 12 questions and see if your season is already over;
1. Is your wife making less-than-subtle remarks about ‘jobs around the house’. On Saturday Mrs M bought a whole new toilet!
2. Are the only ‘runs’ you’re talking about of the school variety?
3. Have you had the first ‘what shall we do at Christmas?’ chat?
4. Have you run out of excuses for your batting woes? I reached rock bottom on Saturday when I told the captain I’d deliberately got bowled for two in a subtle attempt to keep the young Longridge 2nd XI bowler on.
5. Instead of talking about your best recent innings, are you now forced to resort to talking about your best shot? On Saturday my best shot was an inside edge for one.
6. Has your club got its version of White Coppice legend Stephen Parkinson, who has started playing for ‘red inkers’ so he can top the batting averages?
7. Has your club got a treasurer like Coppice’s Jeff Haydock, who has taken to jumping on anybody who hasn’t paid their subs or bought a ticket to the sportsman’s dinner? A fate worse than death awaits anybody who hasn’t done either.
8. Is your captain teasing you by saying he’s going to bowl you before the end of the season? I know Captain Cooke can’t be serious because he’s promised Wayne Dixon he can open the batting.
9. Has the club’s answer to our Matt Garstang threatened to wash his kit? His trousers had so many grass stains on Saturday the pop singer Peter Doherty asked if he could smoke them in a roll up.
10. Have you stopped looking at the Palace Shield batting averages? I have. My last known position was No 46 in top 50 in Division One at an average of 24.38 but I’m dropping quicker than the chances of Colonel Gadaffi sending me a Christmas card. I don’t mind as long as I finish above Freckleton’s James Reddy;
11. Have you experienced new feelings for a team-mate? I did on Saturday for colleague Ross Dixon – sympathy. His girlfriend has started driving lessons with Hoghton’s opening bowler Stuart Taylor. “I’m going out with one of the Dixon boys at Coppice,” she said proudly. “Wayne or Kyle?” asked Stuart. “Ross,” came the reply. “Ross?” asked Stuart,” I didn’t know there was a Ross.”
12. Have you run out of things to say to the club’s teenagers on the away trips? I thought Shaggy was a character from Scooby Do.
SCORES: If you’ve answered yes to five or less of these questions you can still saved.
If you’ve said yes to between six and 10 of these questions your cricket season is in need of a life support system.
If you’ve answered yes to 11 or 12 of these questions then nip down to B&Q while you can still get 15 per cent off.
Your season is over – but 2012 could be your big year.

Indian cricketers didn’t turn up

 INDIA has a population of 1.2 billion and it has grown by 181 million in the last decade.
The cricket-mad nation are now the powerhouse of the sport and their players have hero status and untold fortunes in their own country.
Today they – and the authorities that run the game in India – should be hanging their collective heads in shame.
With the exception of Rahul Dravid, their performance in the recent Test series has been gutless.
Sky TV (never one to understate an event) billed the four-match series as the clash between the world’s No 1 Test team in MS Dhoni’s men and Andrew Strauss’ all-conquering side.
In truth, it’s been more like the mismatch I watched between boxers David Haye and Audley ‘please don’t hit me’ Harrison.
England have been magnificent, and I’m not taking anything away from them, but India have been disgraceful.
Exactly a year ago, the world woke up to News of the World exclusive that implicated three Pakistan players in allegations of spot fixing.
This is nothing to do with that, but I still feel cheated by the Indian team because they simply haven’t shown up and played to their potential.
Test cricket should be the pinnacle of the sport, but India have been seduced by the lure of the cash-rich IPL and one-day game.
Their lack of adequate preparation for a series in England has been contemptible.
A two-day game of slap and tickle at Taunton served only to play that well-known Somerset legend Andrew Strauss (not!!) into a bit of form.
Zaheer Khan clearly wasn’t fit and he soon exited the series, along with Harbhajan Singh.
India arrived in England after playing a series in the West Indies – a contest that didn’t feature the likes of Gautam Gambhir, Virendra Sehwag, Yuvraj Singh and the great Sachin Tendulkar because the players were either injured or needed a rest. A rest? We’re talking about Test cricket here, not Division Five of the Palace Shield!
It’s all very well players harping on about playing too much cricket, but they don’t complain when they’re picking up wads of cash in the IPL.
On the field, the team take their lead from their captain MS Dhoni.
In 2008 the Indian wicketkeeper opted out of a Test series with Sri Lanka because of fatigue and, in England, he’s worn the resigned look of someone who knows the game is up.
India’s fielding has been worse than laughable at times, but they don’t have the same intensity as England when they practise and that’s where it all begins.
I was watching the Fourth Test at the Oval when Gambhir made a pig’s ear of trying to catch Kevin Pietersen on the second day.
He banged his head and was diagnosed with mild concussion after being taken to hospital.
I’m not a doctor so I won’t question the medical opinion, but I once watched Australian captain Steve Waugh score an unbeaten 157 on the same ground against England in 2001, despite virtually batting on one leg.
It’s nothing about ability, it’s about having a bit of ticker.
Gambhir finally batted at No 8 in India’s first innings.
According to Michael Vaughan on Twitter, the England fielders were calling him Mel Gibson in reference to the film Braveheart.
As a result, the inspirational Rahul Dravid had to open the batting in the second innings after carrying his bat in the first. Dravid is an example of what application and the right attitude can achieve.
A lack of talent prevented me playing a higher standard, but if I’d been good enough to represent my country I would have given it my all.
When the dust settles on this series, the England team can be rightly proud of their achievements.
They’ve been organised, passionate and disciplined.
They have to prove themselves against Pakistan and Sri Lanka in the winter and against the hardworking South Africans in the summer of 2012.
As for India, they have not shown the game of cricket the respect it deserves, and they should explain their reasons why to the 1.2 billion Indian people they let down.

Batting line-up was like a Russian Doll

AFTER a week of disgraceful rioting it was perhaps fitting that I should walk into an ambush on the cricket field on Saturday.
White Coppice were 5-1 when I made my way to the crease at No3  against Fylde 2nds.
“Two please,” I shouted at the umpire for a guard. “Same as his batting average,” piped up one of the Fylde players whose voice hadn’t broken yet.
“They must have reversed the order here lads,” shouted the wicketkeeper who seemed to appeal every time he caught the ball. “Out,”  shouted mid-on. “O – U – T. Put that in your paper.”
The Palace Shield League have kindly published my ‘If The Cap Fits’ column on their website and judging by the comments it was clear Flyde’s answer to One Direction had all read it.
“He doesn’t mind giving it out but it doesn’t like taking it,” added another member of the bum fluff brigade.
Then I looked at the scoreboard. Fylde 41 all out – four less than they got the previous week against Vernon Carus 2nds.
Fylde’s team on Saturday was a cross between an audition for Dad’s Army and the audience of a Sponge Bob Square Pants film. My old mates John Marsh and Graham Lawton have a combined age of 119 – while the other nine probably total 150 between them.
There was a stage on Saturday when I thought we were playing against cricket’s answer to a Russian doll as each incoming batsman got progressively smaller than the one they replaced.
I swear that one of Fylde’s youngsters (EDITOR’S NOTE: He made an impressive 15) had a set of pads on that looked only marginally bigger than a pair of shin pads!
The point is that Fylde have been forced into playing the youngsters after they lost six of their better players from last season.
The Fylde coast is cricket’s equivalent of the Bermuda Triange as Thornton Cleveleys, Norcross (NOTE: Norcross 2nds had nine players against Mawdesley on Saturday) and Fylde all seem to have lost players at an alarming rate.
Where have all the 20 and 30-year-old players gone? I know Charnock Richard are one of several local teams who have struggled to play their strongest team in consecutive weeks and their 2nds had to forfeit Saturday’s game because they couldn’t raise a team. It seems to me that this ‘drop out’ culture is getting worse.
The legend of former Chorley captain Roland Horridge still looms large over Windsor Park and nobody dared miss a practise let alone a game during the glory days of the mid 1980s if they wanted to be considered for selection.
Leyland CC seem to be the exception to the rule. Such is their strength in depth that my old mucker Sifton Prince is playing in their Saturday 4th XI.
The secret of a successful team is getting the blend of experience and youth right but too many clubs simply don’t have any alternative to throwing youngsters in when they’ve only got eight players on the morning of the match, as was the case with Flyde 2nds. What impressed me about Flyde youngsters on Saturday was even though they were only defending 41 they never stopped trying (or talking).
Thankfully there was a happy ending as I finished proceedings with a six over midwicket but, as everyone knows, I always like to have the last word!
 Chris Maguire
Follow me on Twitter.com/ifthecaps

Chubby Lee is the modern day Eddie Hemmings

REGULAR readers of the If The Cap Fits column may have noticed I’ve been away on my holidays and despite popular demand, I’m back.

I’ve been in the Croatian city of Dubrovnik and it’s taken me that time to forget the full toss from Torrisholme’s answer to Dave Lee Travis - aka Graham David Lee - that I managed to spoon straight to midwicket in my last match for White Coppice a fortnight ago.

 ‘Chubby’ Lee is a throwback to the days when spinners looked like Eddie Hemmings and Jack Simmons instead of Graeme Swann.

He’s got me out twice this year and a quick look at the Palace Shield website reveals that he’s got 58 other unfortunate victims out too – making him the league’s leading wicket-taker.

There used to be a time when every cricket club had a spinner who looked and behaved like Chubby Lee.

Off the pitch they’re as jolly as Friar Tuck but when you’re standing 22 yards away away from them with a bat in your hand you’re public enemy number one.

As a kid growing up I made my 1st XI debut for Sandwich in the East Kent League as a nervous fresh-faced 20-year-old on a sweltering day at Old Anchorians.

Our spinner was a local farmer called Andrew ‘Smithy’ Smith, who picked up five wickets most games with his assortment of dolly drops.

He would be wheeled on at 50-0 and he bamboozled generations of batsmen with balls that regularly came down with snow on but hardly span.

If the batsman hit the ball in the air he barked ‘catch it’ – irrespective of whether there was a fielder within a 100m radius.

 On my debut I dropped two straightforward catches off him at long-on and got the double teapot.

After the first spill I got a few words of encouragment but nothing could save me when I shelled the second.

“What’s HE doing out there?” asked Smithy, pointing to me just so nobody was in any doubt about the identity of the butter-fingered miscreant in the outfield.

Fast forward two decades and after facing Chubby Lee I can see how Smithy’s victims all felt.

He throws the ball up in the air like a hand grenade and then follows it with a load of ‘oohs’ and ‘aaghs’ as if he’s lining up a cream cake.

He hardly spins it but it’s up in the air so long you have time to change your shot from a fetch to midwicket, to a swot to long-on to an ungainly forward defensive.

After hitting one delivery all the way along the ground to deep cover Chubby looked like a man who’d been given the winning lottery numbers 10 minutes after the tills had been shut.

“Always a pleasure getting a run off the world’s greatest bowler,” was the gist of what I said, to which he replied: “Who’s bowling to the world’s greatest batsman.”

 Two balls later it was all over.After 16 balls of watchful defence he threw up a filthy full toss that I was convinced was going to pitch and straighten – but it never did.

As a result my 17th ball was my last as I turned it straight to midwicket when I should have just smacked it.

“It’s always the pies that get the wickets,” was the honest assessment of Torrisholme team-mate and former Netherfield legend Grahame Clarke as I trudged off the pitch.

An hour or so later I was driving towards Manchester Airport when our captain Steven Cooke texted me the result.

“All out 145,” read the text. “Chubby finished it with a hat-trick.”

Good luck to Chubby and Torrisholme as they chase promotion to the Premier Division of the Palace Shield. At least I won’t have to face him next season if they do get promoted!

 Chris Maguire Follow me on Twitter.com/ifthecap

Rain stops play – depending on the league!

AS somebody who spent three years in the Northern League, and has so far clocked up a similar period in the Palace Shield, I’m often asked to compare the standard between the two.
I enjoyed most of my time at Chorley in the seconds, but was lucky enough to play three times for the firsts and for the thirds.
In the Palace Shield I’ve spent the last two seasons in the White Coppice 1st XI in Division One.
The common theme between both clubs is that I’ve talked more rubbish than Charlie Sheen, and got under the skin of most of my opponents.
Both leagues are blessed with some lovely grounds and a mix of talented youngsters and seasoned old journeymen.
There’s no doubt the Northern League is stronger because of the presence of the professional but, in my view, the best Palace Shield teams would be an equal match for all but the very best Northern League ones.
Several of the worst teams in Division Two of the NL would struggle in Division One of the Palace Shield.
However the biggest difference is what happens in the event of rain.
In the NL you always knew that if it rained on Saturday morning then the chances of playing in the afternoon were remote.
There were two exceptions. The first was Chorley. In the second team’s case, captain John Hotham would be so desperate to play he’d be down at Windsor Park at 9am to talk to the wicket to evaporate the dampness.
The other exception was Darwen. If it rained on Wednesday then the weekend’s game was under threat.
In the Palace Shield, the rule is if it’s not raining then you’re probably playing.
Take this Saturday for example.
It chucked it down on Saturday morning and three of the NL’s six 1st XI games were abandoned without a ball being bowled. Darwen’s game with Kendal, Morecambe’s match with leaders St Annes and Netherfield’s contest with Lancaster were washed away.
It was even worse in Division Two with the games at Lancaster, St Annes, Kendal and Barrow washed away.
Compare that with the Palace Shield. Of the top five divisions there were 30 games and 28 were played, albeit rain-reduced.
The only two matches to fall victim to the weather were at Withnell Fold and Ribchester.
Why? Does it rain less over Palace Shield grounds than NL clubs? No. Is the drainage better at Palace League clubs like Penwortham and Thornton Cleveleys than Lancaster and St Annes? No. Are the covers better in the Palace League? Definitely no.
So, if it’s none of these, what is it? I don’t know, but I do know that I’ve only encountered one Palace Shield side who simply didn’t want to play because of the weather.
In the Northern League I lost count of the number of players who looked at the wicket, glanced at the sky and said: “No chance.”
At White Coppice on Saturday, we turned up and immediately set about getting the pitch ready for play against Thornton Cleveleys 2nds. Kyle Dixon went up and down with a water hog devouring the surface water from the covers while I grabbed a couple of plastic cups and scooped up the puddles.
The game itself turned out to be a damp squib (pardon the pun) and I didn’t bat or bowl but at least we played.
Only the Northern League clubs who didn’t play on Saturday know whether they could have done more to get some sort of meaningful contest.