Match Summary
The dawn of a new season, fresh hopes raised, and a new fixture. On a sweltering Sunday, the 20minuters successfully detrained in deepest Kent. Surrey members gave a brief shudder, and then off to find and greet a friendly bunch of genuine village cricketers. The toss was lost (Skipper panicked briefly and went against his hunch), and the first ominous sign was when our hosts elected to bat. That had never happened to us before - it bespoke confidence, knowledge of local conditions, and all kinds of things likely to undermine the fragile self-belief of the 20minuters. Sure enough, an hour into the game and the opposition were 70 without loss. Nevertheless, Scotto on debut was showing more control that any previous 20minuter bowler ever, and the scoring rate was low. When it became apparent one Locksbottom opener was the Maxwell-Scott of Kent, i.e. shotless, the Skipper got overexcited, adding more and more slips to the cordon. Eventually Scotto made the breakthrough. Out came the slips. An inspired catch off his own bowling by Elwes was followed by an awe-inspiring spell from Cohen, who took four quick wickets for scarcely a run. Cannon's bowling remained fierce throughout, and his failure to take a wicket had made him so angry that the Skipper was genuinely afraid to take him off. The declaration appeared generous, and the target gettable.
The 20minuters reply began slowly, even by our Tavaré-esque standards of our openers. The long grass of the outfield, it was quickly discovered, held-up all but the most firmly struck cricket ball. Disaster struck early when Baker called for the second, and Maxwell-Scott eloquently explained that it would be suicide. By then, Baker had turned, with all the agility of a fully-laden oil tanker reversing course, and was moving back up the wicket with the same kind of unstoppable momentum. A cry of anguish from the stranded Maxwell-Scott, a guilty giggle from Baker, Skipper in hysterics. Fortunately Godsall, another debutant, carried something of a reputation as a batsman (his reputation as a glovesman had already been put to bed). Four balls later he was walking off with an apologetic shrug. Greayer, ironically with no reputation whatsoever as a batsman, did the same after five balls, although his shrug was more 'what did you expect'. 8 for 3 became 39 for 7 in the blink of eye. Elwes fell early; the Skipper fell to his traditional bête-noir, the straight ball; and Cannon only had the one six in him, despite the pent-up rage of the first innings. Baker went for 15, and as he'll be the first to tell you, probably worth a few more because of the long grass. Now, no one's ever said that the 20minuters lacked character, at least not to their face, but neither had they previously displayed what commentators of the game would call 'backbone'. R Scott may not have an in-depth (or even basic) grasp of the game's complexities, but he has a good eye and a total indifference to failure. These attributes served him in good stead as he blocked, nicked, bottom-edged and carved his way to a top score. As his innings began, important information came to light. The 20minuters, blinded by their characteristic do-or-die approach, had been under the impression it was a limited overs event. (Sadly, declarations against us in such matches have been known.) It was now pointed out that if we could survive the remaining 20-odd overs, the match would be drawn. Frantic calls went out to the batsmen (R Scott / C Cohen) to drop anchor - no doubt an alien term to a Scotsman and an Australian, although for very different reasons. The match was saved in nail-biting circumstances, and almost inadvertently, the 20minuters had come tantalisingly close to their first victory.
