The Strokers enjoyed a debut fixture against Barrowden and Wakerley on a balmy Friday evening. Actually scratch that. We had a bloody great time.
- Fantastic setting and weather. Sun shone. It was warm. It is a proper local cricket club with mature trees, a hobbit hole of a pavilion and spectacular views of golden fields of barley and corn (well, crops for sure), with Wakerley Woods on the horizon.
- They were great hosts. They had a bar that served cold beer and burgers, and they were happy to stay hosting until the sun’s glow had been replaced by the moon.
- We won. And well, whisper it quietly but we don’t remember doing winning with quite such competence. Not a word we use much. When we smashed those 14-year-old novice Ecuadorian kids in Switzerland by a whole 4 balls we didn’t bandy competent around. But we scored 131 against a proper attack. And bowled them out for 48.
We fielded three families. A triad of Kisiels and a brace apiece of Potters and Thorpes. The proper feel of a mature club. Forty-three years separated our youngest and eldest.
The opposition were generally young, they play in a league, even having their names on their backs, and did weird things like practice slip catching before the game. We were admittedly nervous.
Castle and Kisiel J opened the batting. Kisiel looked to attack during the powerplay. Castle had his cap knocked off by a bouncer! Stuey always volunteers to open when more experienced players hide. Proper team man departing for 4. Kisiel was unlucky to be caught on 15 by a Stokes-like reverse batman dive in the deep.
Worthington and Kisiel T anchored the innings. Both struggled with the sun setting behind the bowlers arm, but of course neither moaned or made an issue. Worthington went to an excellent caught and bowled for 15, Kisiel carried his bat for 32.
With the platform built, the middle order were able to swing the willow. Mardon for 26 mainly in boundaries, Kisiel A and Thorpe A threatened but departed for 1 and 3. Thorpe J held up an end for 3 whilst Pollard hockey slapped his way to 5 and Potter H made a mockery of going in at 10 to score 10 at a strike rate of 500.
131 felt par. It was a good wicket and the opposition looked like they had been allowed off tractor duty to play. Big, strong boys and they didn’t look too worried.
But confidence comes before a fall. Despite seeing his loosener bashed for a lazy four, Kisiel removed their no1 second ball with a devilishly swinging and quick riposte. He bowled a very tidy spell picking up a further 2 wickets to finish on 3-10. So in the main a thoroughly un-Strokerlike all-round performance that had his dad claiming he taught him everything he knows. When he then shelled two easy catches off Thorpe from consecutive balls we understood what Tim meant.
At the other end Potter J looked menacing as ever and enjoyed a spinners wicket, with his son swiftly stumping for him. He also caught two easy catches in the deep. The only cloud on his horizon was being called Mardon in the scorebook, I assume from a baldist perspective.
We were taking wickets, stopping the ball and Kisiel J aside looking like we could field. Perhaps the youngsters had inspired a spring into the step of the older chaps.
Mardon and Thorpe came on to bowl. Mardon took two wickets thanks to excellent glove work from Henry Potter, or as the scorer had him Henry Cooper, presumably due to his pugilistic batting display. Excellent keeping all innings with even Wothers saying so. One smart catch down leg and a full dive one glove effort the other way. Thorpes slow guile picked up a couple at the other end.
Kisiel A and Pollard were instructed to kill off the tail, the former not being allowed to bowl seam up in the faltering light. They did so promptly despite Pollard being hit for the largest six I’ve seen in some time. All gone for 48. And they were actually….quite good.
It was all a little surreal afterwards. Initially we gave the game away that this was not usual by skipping around with dainty high fives and giggles. We calmed down to be a little more nonchalant, but overhearing our skipper ask for a fixture next year, whilst assuring them we aren’t normally that good was sweet music, and very much a first. Hopefully not an only, but even once made for a great day. Stroke on.
