Welcome back to the second, and hopefully final, instalment of the 2020 Hendrick’s XI Season Review. If you missed Volume One, don’t worry: the narrative is tenuous, the metaphors and similes strained and questionable, and the details sketchy, heavily embellished and frequently fabricated.
In a landmark 10th season for the club, there was a pervading hope that the team would “evolve into a less hapless and more professional outfit the amateurish and chaotic regime that has stumbled from calamity to U-turn to debacle to disaster”. These were actually the words of a prominent broadsheet journalist describing the recent Conservative Party turmoil, but he could just have easily been talking about the Hendrick’s XI.
So we now conduct our own public inquiry, in an attempt to shed some light on the shambolic series of games sandwiched betwixt tour and the start and end of the season. As you'll discover, there were some truly superb moments of cricketing excellence on display; several fortuitous touches of brilliance; and the usual platform of sub-par sporting apathy that characterises so much of the Hendrick’s output.
We’ve duly picked out some of the most memorable, forgettable and highly regrettable.
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Chapter 4: Batting Masterclasses & Remedial Classes
It’s difficult to review the 2020 season without at least passing reference to the batting of a certain Ross Quest, or in this case a loving tribute which we know will make him feel distinctly uncomfortable. To describe his sustained, sublime and – let’s not beat around the bush – overtly sexual performances using such panegyrics as “Herculean”, “A peerless brilliance of earth-shattering magnitude” and “Makes you completely rethink what is physically possible for a human being” would not at all be to overstate the quality of his achievements.
After reading Matthew McConaughey’s acclaimed critical masterpiece Zen and the Art of Torso Maintenance during his extended time away from the Hendrick’s setup, he had returned a renewed man – the book having taught him many lessons that reshaped his approach to both cricket and life, including dropping the ‘g’ at the end of ‘living’. “Because”, in the words of the great Hollywood Zenmaster, “life’s a verb”.
It proved to be a season in which he rained down the sixes (16 of them in 6 innings, to be precise), in addition to all the actual rain that punctuated his glorious assault on the club’s newly established ‘Sixiest Cricketer’ accolade – which comes with nominal prize money and a poorly sculpted trophy of Chris Gayle. It was a title which he and Qas Khattak would continue to joust manfully for, to the considerable gain of the team, as their all-time partnership record of runs amassed together soared to a colossal 431.
In a landmark 10th season for the club, there was a pervading hope that the team would “evolve into a less hapless and more professional outfit the amateurish and chaotic regime that has stumbled from calamity to U-turn to debacle to disaster”. These were actually the words of a prominent broadsheet journalist describing the recent Conservative Party turmoil, but he could just have easily been talking about the Hendrick’s XI.
So we now conduct our own public inquiry, in an attempt to shed some light on the shambolic series of games sandwiched betwixt tour and the start and end of the season. As you'll discover, there were some truly superb moments of cricketing excellence on display; several fortuitous touches of brilliance; and the usual platform of sub-par sporting apathy that characterises so much of the Hendrick’s output.
We’ve duly picked out some of the most memorable, forgettable and highly regrettable.
* * *
Chapter 4: Batting Masterclasses & Remedial Classes
It’s difficult to review the 2020 season without at least passing reference to the batting of a certain Ross Quest, or in this case a loving tribute which we know will make him feel distinctly uncomfortable. To describe his sustained, sublime and – let’s not beat around the bush – overtly sexual performances using such panegyrics as “Herculean”, “A peerless brilliance of earth-shattering magnitude” and “Makes you completely rethink what is physically possible for a human being” would not at all be to overstate the quality of his achievements.
After reading Matthew McConaughey’s acclaimed critical masterpiece Zen and the Art of Torso Maintenance during his extended time away from the Hendrick’s setup, he had returned a renewed man – the book having taught him many lessons that reshaped his approach to both cricket and life, including dropping the ‘g’ at the end of ‘living’. “Because”, in the words of the great Hollywood Zenmaster, “life’s a verb”.
It proved to be a season in which he rained down the sixes (16 of them in 6 innings, to be precise), in addition to all the actual rain that punctuated his glorious assault on the club’s newly established ‘Sixiest Cricketer’ accolade – which comes with nominal prize money and a poorly sculpted trophy of Chris Gayle. It was a title which he and Qas Khattak would continue to joust manfully for, to the considerable gain of the team, as their all-time partnership record of runs amassed together soared to a colossal 431.
“Look lively, boys”, Quest was heard uttering to no one in particular as he took to the field before one of his more destructive performances, “It’s six o’clock”.
He inflicted such psychological damage on the Plastics XI during a 102-run, 62-ball demolition job that in the return fixture a month later their fielders visibly wept when he stepped out to bat, fleeing to the boundary rope in a vain attempt to curtail his onslaught of boundaries. Much like England attempting to capture the wicket of Steve Smith, he proved to be their white whale; as elusive as he was terrifying. Another long-running, Quest-based partnership was his axis with old compadre Tim Saunders, which also ticked towards the 400 mark. After the pair had built an insurmountable foundation during the first game of the Plastics ‘mini-series’, and Quest had retired with his usual unhidden disdain for everyone around him, captain Saunders capped a halcyon afternoon by pulling out a reverse sweep to claim the winning runs while simultaneously bringing up his 50. In true Hendrick’s form he followed this up a few weeks later with a contrasting performance against North Enfield, batting so deep in his own crease that he dismissed himself by dismantling his own wicket, having scratched around for eight runs from 15 balls. It was part of another vintage batting collapse, which saw them plummet ungracefully, like a drunk missing the top step on his impromptu descent down an unseen flight of stairs, from 137-2 to 175 all out. |
Quest was dismissed the following over, controversially given out LBW by Paddy Appleton on 99, only for their woefully inaccurate scorebook to have him five runs short of his actual total. Many miles away, club statistician James Hewlett could be felt seething at the shoddy workmanship inflicted upon his beloved almanac.
Tom Nowlan’s debut season for the club would eventually be as notable for his batting prowess as well as his extraordinary skill with a sledge, having honed the art of both during years of hostile club cricket in Australia. After showing early promise with innings of eye-catching fluency without a statement score, he seemed to be fulfilling the club’s James Vince role at the top of the order, only to masterfully move through the gears in a superb late-season showing.
A crucial innings of 77 in a low-scoring final game against the Plastics, on a slow, weather-beaten pitch showing the strain of a punishing 2020, ensured the Hendrick’s XI at least finished the season having won as many game as they had lost. A measurement widely known as the ‘magic ratio’.
Tom Nowlan’s debut season for the club would eventually be as notable for his batting prowess as well as his extraordinary skill with a sledge, having honed the art of both during years of hostile club cricket in Australia. After showing early promise with innings of eye-catching fluency without a statement score, he seemed to be fulfilling the club’s James Vince role at the top of the order, only to masterfully move through the gears in a superb late-season showing.
A crucial innings of 77 in a low-scoring final game against the Plastics, on a slow, weather-beaten pitch showing the strain of a punishing 2020, ensured the Hendrick’s XI at least finished the season having won as many game as they had lost. A measurement widely known as the ‘magic ratio’.
Unsurprisingly it was Quest who emerged as the season’s batter-in-chief, having scored more than a third of the side’s total runs, been dismissed just twice all year, and removed only by some overly generous umpiring and his own boredom with crucifying the opposition.
It was a not-so-narrow victory that, unlike some recent races, avoided unsubstantiated legal challenges, unnecessary recounts and petulant coup d'états. |
Chapter 5: Surprisingly Accomplished Bowling
After his years in the wilderness and relatively modest returns in 2019, Ajay Shah announced his restoration to the big leagues with an authoritative season. Utilising his years of experience perfecting the craft of almost-swing bowling, the wily campaigner rekindled the old magic with a destructive showing against Stoke Newington 4th XI.
New ball in hand, he ripped through a stunned top order in a devastating spell that left the teenage opposition in complete disarray. It was a career-defining Man of the Match performance which, along with a wicket from plucky up-and-comer Ed Robinson, saw half the scalps greedily plundered with just 20 runs on the board.
Skipper Hewlett offered a typically measured appraisal of proceedings, commenting post-game that the impressive glut of wickets “owed much to several sizeable slices of luck”, including an unorthodox ‘double bounce’ delivery that clean bowled one of the openers before some tame chips to cover saw Tom Metcalf pouch a couple of catches. Nevertheless, Shah left the field triumphant, the proud owner of career-best – and season-leading – figures of 4-35, becoming just the 10th bowler in Hendrick’s history to claim a coveted three-wicket haul.
It would, however, prove to be one of the team’s more short-lived records. The following week saw record-breaker extraordinaire Oli May, already the holder of highest all-time score and worst all-time bowling figures (two impressive accolades achieved in the same game), turn his eye to the history books as he prepared a grab for yet more personal glory.
Just one bowler had previously breached the seemingly impregnable 5-fer barrier – the elusive, shadowy figure of Alex Sharp, a player so shrouded in mystery since his 2016 heroics that his very existence is rumoured to be little more than an urban myth. Thrown in as late a second-change specialist with a breakthrough desperately needed against a Plastics partnership laying an ominous foundation, May not only broke said pairing but went on to dismantle the remainder of the batting line-up.
Picking up five consecutive wickets, his irresistible late charge would set up a comfortable victory. And, true to form, he claimed not one but two prestigious statistical triumphs – also breaking his own record for most runs conceded in an innings, having realised the crown was under threat after his previous yardstick of 0-60 had been equalled earlier in the season by a hapless Wickham. |
Elsewhere there were fine contributions from Hendrick’s occasionals Ollie Holland and Shahi Ghani, operating at opposing ends of the speed-gun spectrum. Holland’s sole appearance in Hendrick’s colours (we use the phrase loosely – as always he turned up in immodestly dressed in shorts and t-shirt) yielded an excellent 3-11 as he unleashed a barrage of pace and raised hopes of what might come to pass in future seasons.
Ghani continued his role as the team’s most understated cricketer, his arrivals for matches anywhere between a day early and several hours late contrasting with the probing consistency he effortlessly achieved with ball in hand. And Martin ‘Bolty’ Bolt’s long-anticipated debut with the ball was notable for his immediate demanding of a entirely superfluous slip to his loopy ‘spin’.
Ghani continued his role as the team’s most understated cricketer, his arrivals for matches anywhere between a day early and several hours late contrasting with the probing consistency he effortlessly achieved with ball in hand. And Martin ‘Bolty’ Bolt’s long-anticipated debut with the ball was notable for his immediate demanding of a entirely superfluous slip to his loopy ‘spin’.
Ultimately, though, it was The Shahman who went on to claim the highest of Hendrick’s honours.
Having placed one sweaty paw on the iconic Bowler of the Year trophy (a repurposed wooden paddle originally designed for carrying multiple pints) with his standout display against Stoke Newington, he grasped it with both hands throughout the rest of a tidy season that saw him double his wicket tally and, crucially, bowl fewer wides than usual. Which, at the end of the day, is all we’re really asking for. |
Chapter 6: Inexpert Fielding
No season round-up would be complete without a quick mention of the must unloved but unavoidably time-consuming discipline. Oscillating wildly between the unexpectedly sublime and the comfortingly ridiculous, there were a number of dizzying highs and magnificent lows.
Simon Minchinton’s return to the team saw him immediately stationed in positions of dangerous proximity to the batsman; a mission he took to with his usual degree of enthusiasm bordering on the psychotic. Against the Plastics, a rank full-toss from Wickham was duly nailed into his vicinity at silly mid-off. With the camera already panning to the boundary, he lay sprawled triumphantly, clinging onto a stunning one-handed catch that would have been far beyond the bravery and athleticism of his astonished teammates.
Later in the month, fielding in the same position against North Enfield during another ponderously slow spell from Wickham, he was offered an identical chance; a carbon copy only hit at half speed and at a much more catchable height. Chipped straight into his hands, he duly dropped an absolute clanger. After remonstrating vigorously with himself, Minchinton was later seen thrashing his own back with a nearby branch from the enormous oak tree novelly located on the pitch's outfield.
The tedium of efficient ground fielding and effortlessly competent catching from the likes of Robinson, Quest and Madhani was thankfully offset by hysterically poor contributions elsewhere.
It’s hard not to smile when thinking of the numerous times Ravi Patel shepherded the ball diligently towards the rope, like a young child running gleefully alongside a new puppy; or Wickham throwing himself dramatically to the turf with huge intensity but minimal impact upon proceedings; and Ghani leaping gracefully over the ball while fielding on the boundary, like a striker eluding a centre-half’s vicious two-footed tackle, was as majestic as it was ludicrous. In the end, the unofficial but ferociously contested prize of Finest Fielding Mishap went comfortably to James Gilbert. Usually a dependable catcher of a cricket ball in a team exclusively predisposed to dodging, ducking and diving out of its path, he was heading towards the tailend of a rare shaky season in the field when calamity struck. Quite literally. As Peffers sent down some regulation 'right-arm filth', a heave was skied towards the boundary. Gilbert duly positioned himself beneath it, only for the chance to elude his grasp. Unrelentingly self-critical as always, he stalked back to the rope (the stern eye of Gilbert Sr. following him from his spectator’s bench during a rare pitch-side appearance) determined to make amends. |
As fate would have it, the very next Peffers over saw another wild swipe hurtle in his direction. Charging in with aplomb, he went for the Aussie ‘fingers up’ technique, attempting to take the catch directly in front of his face. But the ball had other ideas, brutally bursting through his hands and breaking its fall using Gilbert’s conveniently placed forehead and eyebrow.
After he crumpled like a sack of potatoes, the game was quickly paused while inspection was done and the unfortunate fielder’s blood slowly evacuated his body. Madhani was quick to offer his reassurances that, bad as the cut may be, the fallen soldier had some way to go to match his own record for Most Horrific Injury Sustained While Playing, when teeth were forcibly removed from his head when batting the previous year.
Chapter 7: The Intra-Squad Showdown
And finally, this disjointed, meandering narrative finds it end at the conclusion of a similarly disjointed and meandering season. With the Hackney Marshes cricket pitches left to fallow as football once more took centre stage, the Hendrick’s XI reconvened for one last hurrah.
The boundary edge having now been swallowed up by corner flags and penalty boxes, plastic cones were hastily negotiated from the outgoing group of cricketers leaving the field. Realising the strength of their position, an extortionate sum of 10 English pounds was demanded, which Wickham was quick to agree to, only for Saunders to drive a harder bargain and refuse to pay any more than 50p.
In the end a compromise was agreed upon, with the sellers agreeing a clause to the transaction that entitled them to a percentage of future earnings, should any of the Hendrick’s squad go on to represent England. Saunders swiftly acquiesced, reassuring them that many of their number were on the verge of at least a white-ball call-up.
With the pitch finally in place, Hewlett led his eponymous Harriers out to bat. He built a solid opening partnership alongside Nowlan, heading towards a career-best score and once more prompting excitable discussion that this could finally be the innings of his long-awaited maiden 50. But his increasingly, and uncharacteristically, expansive stroke play would prove to be his downfall.
After he crumpled like a sack of potatoes, the game was quickly paused while inspection was done and the unfortunate fielder’s blood slowly evacuated his body. Madhani was quick to offer his reassurances that, bad as the cut may be, the fallen soldier had some way to go to match his own record for Most Horrific Injury Sustained While Playing, when teeth were forcibly removed from his head when batting the previous year.
Chapter 7: The Intra-Squad Showdown
And finally, this disjointed, meandering narrative finds it end at the conclusion of a similarly disjointed and meandering season. With the Hackney Marshes cricket pitches left to fallow as football once more took centre stage, the Hendrick’s XI reconvened for one last hurrah.
The boundary edge having now been swallowed up by corner flags and penalty boxes, plastic cones were hastily negotiated from the outgoing group of cricketers leaving the field. Realising the strength of their position, an extortionate sum of 10 English pounds was demanded, which Wickham was quick to agree to, only for Saunders to drive a harder bargain and refuse to pay any more than 50p.
In the end a compromise was agreed upon, with the sellers agreeing a clause to the transaction that entitled them to a percentage of future earnings, should any of the Hendrick’s squad go on to represent England. Saunders swiftly acquiesced, reassuring them that many of their number were on the verge of at least a white-ball call-up.
With the pitch finally in place, Hewlett led his eponymous Harriers out to bat. He built a solid opening partnership alongside Nowlan, heading towards a career-best score and once more prompting excitable discussion that this could finally be the innings of his long-awaited maiden 50. But his increasingly, and uncharacteristically, expansive stroke play would prove to be his downfall.
Attempting one too many scything pull shots against the listless bowling of Wickham, he had his off stump delicately disturbed, like a dozing drunk being tapped on the shoulder with the train approaching the final stop. In any case the milestone score wouldn’t have officially counted, which Hewlett himself made abundantly clear after a number of players showing rare glimpses of form implored him to enter their feats in the annals of Hendrick’s history.
But his flat refusal to besmirch the integrity of his extensive statistical database remained firm. “Where would they go? How are they attributed to the overall total? Have you even thought through the immense analytical fallout this will have?!” were just a few of the furious concerns he directed back at them. “Why do people always ask me such stupid bloody questions”, the Grandmaster of Spreadsheets was heard grumbling later on. Quest batted with predictable fluency and aggression, the sight of him depositing balls into adjacent fields and stalking off in a gloomy half-century retirement by now well known to the team. His unflappable composure was broken only when Madhani aimed a series of wild hacks at the bowling, after which he aimed a wild “For fuck’s sake, Owez!” at his batting partner. |
An innings of improbable quality was also constructed by fellow left-hander Metcalf, who departed from his well-worn playbook of turgid resistance to something approaching free-flowing attack. Unsurprisingly, he was another to loudly bemoan the fact that his minor heroics with the bat would not contribute to bolstering his all-time average.
Saunders had, unbeknownst to him, unearthed a rare gem in unassuming new man Ben ‘Douggie’ Douglas. Not only was he unaware of his first name, having known him only by his less formal monicker, but he had initially overlooked him in the draft as teams were picked. Bowling with such pace that Saunders immediately had to retreat behind the stumps, he closed out the innings in style with a high-quality late bombardment. Naturally the team were keen to seek out his services for the 2021 season.
With the Harriers closing on approx. 200 following an unfurling of boundaries from Jack Gelsthorpe at the end of the innings, the Spitfires began the response with debutant Laurie Barraclough, who fared surprisingly well for a man who hadn’t felt the firm, comforting grip of a cricket bat for more than half his life. Alongside him was the ever-industrious May, who quickly settled into his usual routine of disinterested leaves and almighty heaves, with Saunders later joining him to lead from the front.
Saunders had, unbeknownst to him, unearthed a rare gem in unassuming new man Ben ‘Douggie’ Douglas. Not only was he unaware of his first name, having known him only by his less formal monicker, but he had initially overlooked him in the draft as teams were picked. Bowling with such pace that Saunders immediately had to retreat behind the stumps, he closed out the innings in style with a high-quality late bombardment. Naturally the team were keen to seek out his services for the 2021 season.
With the Harriers closing on approx. 200 following an unfurling of boundaries from Jack Gelsthorpe at the end of the innings, the Spitfires began the response with debutant Laurie Barraclough, who fared surprisingly well for a man who hadn’t felt the firm, comforting grip of a cricket bat for more than half his life. Alongside him was the ever-industrious May, who quickly settled into his usual routine of disinterested leaves and almighty heaves, with Saunders later joining him to lead from the front.
Meanwhile, a fascinating sub-plot was emerging in the Gilbert Cricketing Dynasty. Like a mighty king knowing his influence is waning and his time in the sun is coming to an end, James had already been planning for his succession and introduced his fresh-faced younger brother, Jonny, to the club’s ranks.
He was perhaps instructed to do so by his disappointed father, who once more presided over proceedings, largely unmoved except to offer scathing critiques of both sides’ execution of the core disciplines. (And we wait for an equally underwhelmed review of this write-up in due course.) It was thus that Gilbert Jr emerged as the exciting future of the team, Gilbert The Elder by now “ageing, struggling for consistency and suffering the aftereffects of a sickening concussion from his misadventures in the field”, according to sources close to the player. The younger incarnation was raw but full of a potential that would almost certainly go untapped in an outfit as strikingly unprofessional and uncompetitive as the Hendrick’s XI. |
Khattak – the Spitfires’ big-money auction pick – proved his value when he came in and took the game away, climbing into a number of effortlessly extravagant shots that saw the scoreboard race along. As the sun dropped, the Hendrick’s contingent was treated to one last glorious spectacle: Quest storming in to bowl, rediscovering the searing pace that made his previous outings with the ball so impressive, finding his range of genuine bouncers and toe-crunching yorkers.
The quality he served up was far too rich for the likes of Peffers and Wickham, who were already within touching distance of the square leg umpire by the time their stumps were shattered by some unplayable deliveries. Despite the pair’s attempt to orchestrate another late batting collapse, defeat was not snatched from the jaws of victory, and Gilbert and Douglas diligently steered the ship home. A six-wicket win for the Saunders Spitfires kicking off what promises to be a long, bitter and financially depletive rivalry between the two fast-growing franchises.
The quality he served up was far too rich for the likes of Peffers and Wickham, who were already within touching distance of the square leg umpire by the time their stumps were shattered by some unplayable deliveries. Despite the pair’s attempt to orchestrate another late batting collapse, defeat was not snatched from the jaws of victory, and Gilbert and Douglas diligently steered the ship home. A six-wicket win for the Saunders Spitfires kicking off what promises to be a long, bitter and financially depletive rivalry between the two fast-growing franchises.
They celebrated the close of an especially unorthodox season (which came at the end of a decade of highly unconventional seasons) in the usual fashion.
A spare bottle of Hendrick’s gin, originally reserved for an opposition Man of the Match, was produced from Saunders’ fraying backpack, while Hewlett produced a typically sizeable, custom-shaped cake (courtesy of Mrs. Hewlett) that had some how made it from south to north London intact despite his cavalier guardianship. With the delicious masterpiece almost entirely consumed, heartfelt goodbyes were said as the looming shadow of another nationwide lockdown lurked just beyond the horizon. But the Hendrick's XI remain hopeful of the return, en masse, of their legions of devoted fans to matches next season. And finally... If you have stuck with us to the end of this unreadably long tome, we would like to thank you for your persistence by offering some final advice from the deep thinker and cultural philosopher that is Matthew David McConaughey. “I don’t want to just revolve; I want to evolve, as a man, as a human, as a father, as a lover.” Because, as we know from the great man’s grammatically based teachings, “Life is a series of commas, not periods”, and we’ll see you in 2021 for the next unnecessarily detailed volume. |