When the Weather Reads the Situation

There are many ways to prepare for a cricket match.

You can arrive early.

You can inspect the pitch.

You can consult an expert.

You can even order McDonald's.

Salix somehow managed to do all four, and still lost by 81 runs.

It was the return fixture against the Gentlemen of West London CC at Dundonald Recreation Ground, and from the outset it had all the hallmarks of a classic Salix afternoon: late arrivals, questionable weather, a delayed start, a fundraiser, an increasingly unplayable pitch, a captain who couldn't see the ball and enough tactical analysis to suggest we knew what we were doing.

We didn't. But we looked like we might.

The day actually began rather promisingly. At approximately 11.30am, vice-captain Dilshan De Silva (Dilly) arrived at the ground to perform the ancient and highly respected cricketing ritual of staring at the pitch and pretending to know what it would do later. This was not, however, an ordinary man staring at a patch of grass. Dilshan is a qualified cricket coach at Wimbledon CC and comes with rather formidable cricketing credentials in the family, being the son of Somachandra De Silva, former Sri Lankan Test captain and international cricketer. So when Dilshan gave his assessment, we listened.

Carefully.

Respectfully.

Possibly even reverently.

His conclusion?

Bowl.

Excellent.

A professional coach, a pitch inspection at 11.30am and the son of a former Test captain had spoken.

We were bowling.

It was therefore comforting to know that when the pitch later became a damp, treacherous, low-bouncing, two-way-moving swamp, we could confidently blame Dilshan.

To be fair, the pitch probably looked quite different at 11.30am. Or perhaps Dilshan was reading the pitch. And the pitch was lying.

Your correspondent and captain for the game, duly lost the toss.

The Gents elected to bat. Which was fine. In fact, it was secretly exactly what we wanted. Had I won the toss, I would almost certainly have bowled anyway. So losing the toss was, in essence, a way of winning the toss without having to win the toss. Captaincy genius.

Dilly’s 11.30am pitch report had already said bowl. The universe had agreed. Everything was going beautifully. For about five minutes.

The only problem was that quite a few people hadn't actually arrived yet. Miles, Stephen and CK were among the Salix contingent arriving late, while a significant proportion of the Gents appeared to have interpreted the scheduled start time as more of a broad aspiration. The result was a delayed start. This would prove significant later.

Because when you start a 35-over cricket match late in the afternoon, there are two things you really don't want: rain and poor light. Naturally, we got both.

Once the cricket finally started, the Gentlemen of West London made the most of being allowed to bat first. Raj was removed early for 4, but Julius De Watteville settled in and proceeded to demonstrate why he had apparently decided that this was his afternoon. He made a very good 85 from 78 balls, including 14 fours and a six. Nishchay added 18 before Arsey struck again, and Vamsee departed for a duck.

Nilesh then wandered in, hit four boundaries in his 10-ball 16, and was promptly caught by Shelly off Shelly — who ignored the shouts of “Keeper Keeper” from Hasaan and most of the team, to run in and snatch the ball out of the grasp of Fezaan. Miles then quipped whether it was ‘Keeper’ or ‘Keep Her’ that was being shouted.

At 90-4, the Gents might have been wondering whether they had left a few runs out there. They hadn't. Nishu made a useful 36, but the real late-innings damage came from Bobby Gulati, who produced an excellent 59 not out from just 34 balls, including five fours and four sixes.

Wasiq added 15 not out and suddenly the scoreboard was looking considerably less friendly.

The Gents finishing on 265-6 off 35 overs.

Salix had bowled well in patches. Miles was particularly economical, returning 7-1-21-1, while Arsey took two wickets.

There was, however, another form of run leakage. 19 wides. Hardik was responsible for 17 of them. Which is an impressive number when you consider that there were only 35 overs in the entire innings. At this point, Dilshan's pitch report was still technically undefeated.

After finishing the bowling innings, the Salix players naturally considered the usual cricketing options for lunch. Sandwiches. Crisps. Something from home. Perhaps a quick trip somewhere. Miles, however, had other ideas. He ordered McDonald's directly to the ground. Not “I'll grab something on the way.” No. McDonald's. To Dundonald Recreation Ground. For lunch.

This was not simply ordering food. This was logistical innovation.

Somewhere, a McDonald's delivery driver received an order, looked at the address, and thought:

“Surely not.”

It was.

This had never happened before. Cricket has evolved enormously over the years. We have DRS. We have Hawk-Eye. We have Spidercam. We have analysts with laptops. And now, apparently: McDelivery to deep square leg.

And as the Salix innings approached, we had burgers, fries and the increasingly uncomfortable realisation that we needed to chase 266.

The Salix reply began reasonably enough, before Krutik departed for 1. Fezaan then played nicely for 38 from 41 balls, including five boundaries, while CK anchored the innings with a patient and very respectable 59 from 85 balls, striking ten fours. But this was where the weather decided to get involved. Rain came in sporadic bursts and the pitch began to deteriorate. The ball started staying low. Then it started moving. Sometimes one way. Sometimes the other. The outfield slowed down to the point where boundaries appeared to require planning permission, while the ball itself became increasingly sponge-like after being repeatedly exposed to the elements. It was less a cricket ball and more a damp stress ball.

The conditions were not helped by the late start. As the afternoon wore on, the light began to fade. And fade. And fade some more.

Stephen had done his homework. Having apparently watched a video of a previous game against the Whalers, Stephen had come to the conclusion that the opposition wouldn’t be all that.

This was clearly the result of some serious opposition analysis. The only problem was that when it came to applying the scouting report personally, Stephen managed 6 runs.

So the lesson from the video was presumably:

“They're not very good. Someone else should probably bat.”

Stephen had simply demonstrated that while he may not have trusted his own batting analysis, he was absolutely certain about other people's wickets.

Still, there were some useful contributions.

Hasaan struck 21 from just 17 balls, with five boundaries, while Hardik remained unbeaten on 31 from 32 balls, hitting six fours.

But wickets continued to fall.

Fezaan was removed by Julius.

Stephen was caught and bowled by Julius.

Hasaan was also dismissed by Julius.

And Julius, having already scored 85, was beginning to look suspiciously like the person who had written the script.

Eventually, your correspondent came to the crease.

By this point, the light was becoming ridiculous.

CK, batting alongside me, was struggling to see the ball.

Not “it's a little gloomy” struggling.

Actually struggling to see the ball.

Understandably, we began considering whether the match should be called for bad light.

This was a perfectly reasonable cricketing position.

The only issue was that I then got out.

Stephen making a far more decisive contribution later in the day. While umpiring, he gave your correspondent the quickest LBW decision in recorded cricket history. The ball hit me in front. Stephen's finger was up almost before the appeal had finished. There was no consultation. No discussion. No VAR. No third umpire.  Just: OUT.

To be fair, I had absolutely no complaints. It was plumb. LBW.

The remarkable thing was that almost immediately after my dismissal, the light improved ever so slightly. Just enough. Not enough to make batting enjoyable. Not enough to make the ball easy to see. But apparently enough to make everyone realise that my carefully considered bad-light argument had arrived approximately one wicket too early.

With the result still to be decided, the Gents had already agreed to bowl spin only to ensure the match could continue safely and fairly. A lovely gesture. Also a devastating one.

Because there is no more humbling experience in club cricket than being told:

“Don't worry, mate, we'll only bowl spin in this light.”

And then still getting out.

Salix eventually finished on: 184-7 off 35 overs

CK top-scored with 59, Fezaan made 38 and Hardik finished unbeaten on 31. The Gents therefore won by  81 runs.

A convincing result on the scoreboard.

A slightly less convincing result for several of our pre-match theories.

Dilshan's pitch report.

Stephen's opposition analysis.

Saiborg's toss strategy.

Saiborg's bad-light strategy.

And Miles' decision to have McDonald's delivered to a cricket ground.

All had varying degrees of success.

There was, however, a much more important reason for the fixture.

Before the match, the Gents had contacted Chairman Tim about holding a fundraiser in memory of their player Raj Patel's late father.

Both clubs agreed it would be a lovely gesture, and so a fines-based fundraiser was organised.

The rules were simple enough: fines for drops, daft appealing, coaching from the middle while umpiring, ducks, wickets, half-centuries and whatever other forms of cricketing incompetence or achievement could be monetised.

Arsey was appointed Fine Master for Salix and tasked with keeping track of the damage.

This was perhaps the most dangerous appointment of the day.

Because once you give Arsey a notebook and permission to fine people, you are effectively creating a financial regulator with no oversight.

But the fines added a good bit of fun to the fixture while supporting a genuinely worthwhile cause, and it was a great gesture from both clubs. Our thoughts remain with Raj and his family.

It is difficult to say exactly where Salix went wrong.

We had the professional pitch consultation.

We had the secret tactical plan to bowl first.

We had Stephen's extensive opposition analysis.

We had McDonald's.

We had CK's 59.

We had Hardik's unbeaten 31.

We even had the opposition agree to bowl spin when the light became awful.

And yet somehow, we still lost by 81 runs.

Perhaps the real problem was that Dilshan had read the pitch, Stephen had watched the opposition, and that I had read the situation.

Unfortunately, the weather had read all of us.

The Gents deserved their victory, Julius De Watteville's 85 was excellent, Bobby’s 59* was destructive, and their bowlers made the most of some genuinely difficult conditions.

For Salix, it was one of those wonderfully chaotic club-cricket days where the scorecard tells only half the story. The other half involves late arrivals, a professional pitch consultant, 19 wides, a wet sponge masquerading as a cricket ball, a disappearing sun, a captain appealing for bad light immediately before getting himself out, Stephen's instant LBW finger, and Miles somehow turning Dundonald Recreation Ground into a McDonald's delivery address.

In short:

A thoroughly enjoyable day of cricket.

A thoroughly enjoyable fundraiser.

And, unfortunately, a thoroughly deserved defeat.

But at least we know one thing for the next fixture.

If Dilshan says bat first…

we're bowling.