Bank holiday weekend, 8 May 2020. A date scribbled in the calendars and etched into the minds of many across the great island of Britain. It was to have been an auspicious day, marking a national moment of triumph and celebration. Of stiff-upper-lip perseverance and victory against all the odds. And we’re not talking about VE Day (although fair play to all those involved, sounded like a cracking effort).
No, this was to be a crowning accomplishment in sporting history, commemorating (conveniently) both the 10th anniversary and opening of the 10th season for one of amateur cricket’s most beloved sporting outfits, the Hendrick’s XI. And how better to celebrate than by playing the great old game itself?
The exponential swelling of the ranks had led to ‘unprecedented’ (already 2020’s runaway Word of the Year winner) numbers being recruited for the Hendrick’s roster. The result: an inaugural intra-squad T20 match, arranged with the kind of ludicrous fanfare, profligate investment and catchy franchise names made infamous by this summer’s now cancelled Hundred.
Hewlett Harriers and Saunders Spitfires (sub-franchises formally endorsed by the captains’ native counties of Gloucestershire and Kent respectively) were announced to much pomp and ceremony, with live team selection appearing on primetime, free-to-air television (thanks, Channel 5) and elaborate pyrotechnics and industrial-quality sound equipment ready for the big debut.
Sadly, with the world imploding and Boris ‘I’ve Almost Got Enough Kids For A Cricket Team’ Johnson becoming rapidly less comprehensible with every passing day, the lucrative exhibition event had to be called off. But, ever the innovators in the face of crushing adversity, the Hendrick’s hierarchy deployed Project Restart (unaffiliated with a similarly titled Premier League project) – an AI simulator utilising "a complex, purpose-built supercomputer that required years of engineering and fine-tuning", to quote the machine’s architect, Tom Metcalf, who apparently got the idea from watching Westworld.
What you’ll read below is a result of years’ worth of player data, and up-to-date weather conditions from the Met Office, used to simulate a virtual game of masterful accuracy, and superfluous detail. Enjoy.
First innings: Hewlett Harriers to bat
The two captains faced each other down in a tense stand-off. Tim Saunders behind the stumps, giving it his usual chirp, James Hewlett stoic and unflappable as he walked, bat in hand, to open the innings.
Having won the toss and elected to bowl, Saunders had stuck with his tried, tested and proven-to-fail option of opening the bowling with Henry Wickham. Hewlett, knowing intimately of the bowler’s numerous and significant fallibilities, quickly took him to the cleaners. A long-hop wide of the off peg was contemptuously dispatched through the covers first ball, before a gentle leg-stump full-toss was casually hoisted over mid-wicket for a towering (and highly improbable) six.
Ross Quest had taken advantage of a typically quiet off-season to steal the limelight by announcing, via a series of press releases and high-profile TV interviews, a long-overdue return to the game. Following two seasons of self-isolation – having been an advocate of social distancing long before it became so fashionable – he heralded his return with a boundary of his own as the first over went for a bruising 17 runs.
Thankfully the captain had at his disposal a far more accomplished opening bowler at the other end, with James Gilbert quickly tipping the early balance. Clearly overly fired up and keen to announce his return with a characteristic assault on the bowling attack, Quest inexplicably decided to charge the third ball of the over from the squad’s fastest bowler. Just as inexplicably, Saunders then managed to lob the ball in the direction of the stumps with the batsman well short of his ground, putting the brakes on the Harriers’ early charge.
Despite being smashed all over the gaff in one of the worst opening overs seen at any level of the game, Saunders kept faith with Wickham. It would prove to be a judicious move, despite an inauspicious start. Another rank full-bunger was launched for six by new batsman Harry Hole, only for him to try drinking from that particular well one too many times, getting a top-edge to serial dropper Josh Peffers in one of the less likely dismissals of the innings.
What followed next will forever be remembered as one of the most farcically comedic but momentously symbolic passages of play in Hendrick’s history. Shambolic but superb: a fitting combination.
Simon Minchinton’s two-year hiatus and subsequent return to the warm, spongy and sometimes uncomfortably moist embrace of the Hendrick’s XI was sadly to be overshadowed. Having picked up a couple of quick runs he then missed a full, straight, slower-than-usual one from Wickham, with the ball lightly disturbing the furniture like a house cleaner delicately brushing crumbs from an antique chaise longue.
That brought to the crease the statistically most destructive batsman on record, the demolisher of economy rates, Qas Khattak. His first ball – an arching, looping grenade – enticed him almost halfway down the wicket as he attempted to slam it into the stratosphere. But, continuing a trend of ‘feast or famine’ form that has become his trademark in recent seasons, Khattak was undone by the complete lack of pace as he overbalanced, bat flying dramatically from his hands and narrowly missing the head of a startled umpire.
He turned, only to see Saunders catch the ball, drop it, pick it up, fumble it again, retrieve it once more and finally turn it, now sprawled in an undignified heap, back on to the stumps. Absolutely astonishing scenes.
On to the final ball. The hat trick delivery. Surely not?
Jonny Franks to the crease, who, in his only outing in Hendrick’s colours, showed the kind of diligent, level-headed batting so desperately lacking in a wildly undisciplined team. Perhaps it was captain Hewlett’s full-throttle, balls-to-the-wall, gangster rap-soundtracked pre-game team talk – in which he urged wild aggression over steady accumulation – that unnerved him, we’ll never know.
Attempting an ambitious reverse switch-hit from his first ball, in the direction of Ravi Patel stationed down at third-man, it appeared as though he had gotten away with his devil-may-care approach. This is, after all, is a man for whom the art of fielding is like a great work of art – something to be admired from afar, but never touched or practised oneself. Today, for whatever reason, was different.
Seeing the ball sail high into the air, Patel charged in showing a fresh and disarming athleticism, straining to position himself under the catch. For an instant it looked as though he wouldn’t make it, a misjudged attempt at heroism, but at the last minute he managed to lever his frame off the ground, falling dramatically and clasping the ball mere inches from the turf as he held on to a stunning two-handed catch. He quickly picked himself up, using a freshly materialised bat to treat the fans to his customary Ravindra Jadeja-inspired ‘Twirling Sword’ celebration.
With the innings in tatters at 32 for five after just three overs, and the heart of the batting order ripped out, it appeared that – much like the British government’s laissez-faire approach to global pandemics – Hewlett’s risky pinch-hitting strategy had badly backfired. It would take true steel and sterner resolution to claw their way back into a position of respectability.
The skipper elected to lead by example, retreating to his usual attritional style and hitting sixes slightly less frequently. He was joined by Tom Summers who, having scored literally no runs during the 2019 season, superbly took his first four balls for 16 in a stunning counterpunch not seen since the heyday of a certain Adam Gilchrist.
When the gallant captain eventually fell, for a battling 39, to a combination of Patel’s beguiling right-arm and Saunders’ surprisingly sharp work behind the stumps, he was replaced by fellow blocker-in-chief Tom Metcalf. But another dramatic turnaround was on the cards.
Teeing off with aplomb, Metcalf demolished the bowling, dishing out particularly severe punishment for new recruit Martin Bolt, whose debut over was bludgeoned for 24 merciless runs. He continued to make hay while the virtually simulated sun shone, racking up no fewer than six sixes as leather flew effortlessly from willow in a wildly uncharacteristic performance.
Down the other end, however, he began running out of partners. Some metronymic bowling from James ‘Swingmaster General’ Rollett had dried up the runs, before Patel returned for another tidy over. He snared Summers first ball before picking up the scalp of reluctant tailender Ed Robinson with his last, doing little to help Robinson’s vociferous (and frequent) claims that he is in fact a top-order batsman who needs to “come in at number three”.
Momentum faltered once again as Metcalf, having relentlessly hammered his way to a maiden half-century, was trapped LBW by Oli May, before Bolt partially redeemed himself with some canny death bowling, spearing in a yorker to clean-bowl Shahi Ghani for eight as the innings collapsed like a flan in a cupboard. Number 11, Ajay Shah, could be heard lamenting his poor luck and lack of batting support, having come dangerously close to overhauling his own personal top score with a well-constructed innings of two streaky singles.
Summary: 148 all out
Metcalf 59, Hewlett 39, Summers 20
Wickham 4-25, Patel 3-20, May 1-11
Second innings: Saunders Spitfires need 149 to win
Despite burning bright but burning out after just 11.5 overs, Hewlett and his merry band of Harriers had at least set a potentially defendable total. And there were to be encouraging early signs as the captain tossed the new ball to Ghani, a bamboozling purveyor of indistinct pace.
Saunders adopted a typically nonchalant approach to the chase, calmly blocking the first ball before clipping the second away as he strolled through for a leisurely single, his body moving between the wickets but his mind clearly floating across the sporting greens of rural England as he day-dreamed of lazy summers and everlasting cricket.
Opening partner Owez Madhani was back playing his first game since extensive facial reconstructive surgery, his last Hendrick’s innings having ended in a trip to an Oxford A&E department following a fiery short ball to the mouth. Unsurprisingly he looked markedly less relaxed than the skipper.
Much like Stuart Broad’s perpetual fear of bouncers following his similarly vicious blow to the face, a lingering trepidation remained. Seeing Ghani dig one in back of a length he retreated in the direction of the square-leg umpire, attempting to flay the delivery through the off-side, only for the ball’s modest pace to see it trundle along the ground and skittle into the base of the stumps.
In an over of two halves, new batsman and self-appointed treasurer, sponsor and kit provider, Peffers, eased the chase into second gear. Having spent much of the winter ensconced in a Lords’ training camp under the astute tutelage of former county coaches, he was keen to show the fruits of his labour.
His work clearly had not been in vain as he clobbered his first ball high over the bowler’s head for an imperious six, disappointingly only managing a chipped four from his second, before resuming normal service with another maximum. It rounded off an uneven opening over of 17 runs and one wicket that left neither side entirely satisfied, apart from Saunders who, as always, seemed blissfully content in his own bubble of existence.
The usually reliable Robinson struggled for rhythm in a punishing first over. For a man as miserly with his economy rate as he is with his praise of others, it was a chastening blow, with Saunders gradually getting into his stride and Peffers continuing to lace balls into the prominent advertising hoardings (Disney+ now available for just £5.99 a month).
Ghani’s second over was given equally disdainful treatment, before Robinson struck back. After a flurry of boundaries to start the over, Saunders’ already lofty confidence had apparently soared even further away from him, as he elected to come down the wicket in an attempt to add further insult to the bowler’s injury. Seeing him coming and sliding the ball a touch wider, Robinson sparked a stumping opportunity, with ever-reliable fielding extraordinaire Hole quick to remove the bails.
In a match that featured almost no dot balls, May’s quiet determination to patiently defend and turn down singles was conspicuous. He laboriously advanced the score at less than a run a ball, finding boundaries uncommonly hard to come by in a match that seemed to have reversed players’ usual fortunes. His patience eventually wore thin as he too decided to charge the reasonably rapid bowling of Robinson, only for Hole to take a second stumping in what was fast becoming an absurdly high-octane spectacle.
A shift in fortunes appeared to be on the horizon as Ghani’s third over saw the sensational fireworks of Peffers brought to an abrupt end, having indulged heartily in a rich banquet of fours, sixes and the occasional mid-over Mars Bar.
Next to the crease was wildcard Bolt, an unknown quantity on the field but a man already renowned off it for imparting such Confucius-esque wisdom as “Find a fat bird, put it down her arsecrack for 5 seconds and remove.” Would such mastery of the sexual experience translate to skill with the bat? Initial signals were positive as he sensually caressed his first ball through the covers for a sumptuous boundary.
But his erotically inspired batting proved no match for Ghani’s awkward drifters, who glided the next one past the bat and onto the pads, eliciting the umpire’s dreaded raised finger (raised into the air, not the rear-end crevice, just to clarify).
With the score at 105 for five and the pendulum swinging back towards the Harriers, the game looked, to a reasonably generous eye, well balanced. But continuing his resurgent form from the back end of the 2019 season, Adrian Crawford solidified the middle order with an assured knock. Having plundered boundaries early in his innings he kept the scoreboard ticking smoothly, despite some lean overs from the seasoned, and slightly bent, arm of Shah (not to be confused with the ‘Shah Arms’, his new gastropub venture).
An intriguing duel played out between bat and ball as the crafty Khattak sent down a couple of overs of genuine spin. Facing up to him was the steady presence of Ollie Holland, an infrequent but hugely over-qualified Hendrick’s acolyte, who decided to deal only in boundaries as the match edged towards its conclusion.
Sensing the end was nigh, specialist finisher Gilbert began readying himself for a trademark innings of scintillating late drama. Already padded up and rehearsing his customary series of statesman-like singles followed by a casual six or two, he was fired up and keen to grab the headlines once more.
But he was to be scandalously denied the chance to recreate the magic of seasons past, having already lined up Van Halen’s monolithic glam-rock album 1984 to soundtrack his solo brilliance. Much to his chagrin, Holland remained watchful, dutifully blocking to Khattak like a considerate driver refusing to switch lanes too aggressively on the motorway.
Requiring eight to win, with Gilbert poised to pounce from the sidelines, Holland glanced over to the boundary – possibly calculating the distance, or perhaps locking eyes with Gilbert in a nod to the two men’s lower-middle-order rivalry.
He duly sent the next delivery soaring into an adjacent car park, prompting a delay of several minutes while the ball was retrieved, before setting himself again and heaving the final ball over cow corner as the Spitfires romped home to a five-wicket win, with more than nine overs still in hand.
In the midst of celebration, Gilbert unleashed a furious barrage of expletives at his triumphant teammate, with the words “disgrace”, “traitor” and “skullduggery” all featuring prominently. Saunders was particularly jubilant, having secured victory over his old compadre Hewlett in the inaugural Intra-Squad Shield trophy. When asked about the performance of Wickham, unlikely hero of his bowling attack, he was emphatic.
“It was absolutely, unequivocally some of the worst bowling I’ve ever seen,” he said, beaming delightedly. “So yes, he did exactly what I hoped he would do.”
Summary: 153-5
Peffers 46, Saunders 37, Crawford 26*
Ghani 3-54, Robinson 2-47, Khattak 0-23
* * *
So, did the game-simulation technology work?
Despite featuring preposterously few extras and far too many boundaries, the fact that a Twenty-20 match was wrapped up with fewer than 22 overs being completed across both innings was a startlingly accurate reflection of standard Hendrick’s procedure. We caught up with the team’s newly appointed head of technology, Metcalf, to get his views on its first-ever usage.
“Wickham taking four wickets is obviously a load of shameful nonsense, and makes an utter mockery of all the hard work we've put into perfecting the art of virtual cricket. For that I can only apologise.”
But he remained suspiciously tight-lipped about the algorithm’s projection of his own innings. “Well, to be honest, I think I’m due a 50. I’ve been feeling it coming for a while, today it was just a case of all the pieces falling into place.”
Overall it was – much like Ben Stokes’ absurd solo summer heroics, or the prospect of PM BoJo blustering through a sentence without any allusions to Classical Greek literature – an improbable outcome. But the ride was nevertheless thrilling, unexpected and often downright laughable. Everything we have come to expect from this lovable band of rogues.
And finally, in these 'unprecedented' times of hardship, we thought we'd leave you with a few uplifting words from acclaimed social commentator, Eddie Van Halen, taken from one of Gilbert's favourite '80s masterpieces.
I get up, and nothing gets me down
You got it tough, I've seen the toughest around
And I know, baby, just how you feel
You've got to roll with the punches to get to what's real.
Ah, might as well jump
Go ahead and jump (jump), go ahead and jump!
Full scorecards
Hewlett Harriers
148 all out (11.5 overs)
No, this was to be a crowning accomplishment in sporting history, commemorating (conveniently) both the 10th anniversary and opening of the 10th season for one of amateur cricket’s most beloved sporting outfits, the Hendrick’s XI. And how better to celebrate than by playing the great old game itself?
The exponential swelling of the ranks had led to ‘unprecedented’ (already 2020’s runaway Word of the Year winner) numbers being recruited for the Hendrick’s roster. The result: an inaugural intra-squad T20 match, arranged with the kind of ludicrous fanfare, profligate investment and catchy franchise names made infamous by this summer’s now cancelled Hundred.
Hewlett Harriers and Saunders Spitfires (sub-franchises formally endorsed by the captains’ native counties of Gloucestershire and Kent respectively) were announced to much pomp and ceremony, with live team selection appearing on primetime, free-to-air television (thanks, Channel 5) and elaborate pyrotechnics and industrial-quality sound equipment ready for the big debut.
Sadly, with the world imploding and Boris ‘I’ve Almost Got Enough Kids For A Cricket Team’ Johnson becoming rapidly less comprehensible with every passing day, the lucrative exhibition event had to be called off. But, ever the innovators in the face of crushing adversity, the Hendrick’s hierarchy deployed Project Restart (unaffiliated with a similarly titled Premier League project) – an AI simulator utilising "a complex, purpose-built supercomputer that required years of engineering and fine-tuning", to quote the machine’s architect, Tom Metcalf, who apparently got the idea from watching Westworld.
What you’ll read below is a result of years’ worth of player data, and up-to-date weather conditions from the Met Office, used to simulate a virtual game of masterful accuracy, and superfluous detail. Enjoy.
First innings: Hewlett Harriers to bat
The two captains faced each other down in a tense stand-off. Tim Saunders behind the stumps, giving it his usual chirp, James Hewlett stoic and unflappable as he walked, bat in hand, to open the innings.
Having won the toss and elected to bowl, Saunders had stuck with his tried, tested and proven-to-fail option of opening the bowling with Henry Wickham. Hewlett, knowing intimately of the bowler’s numerous and significant fallibilities, quickly took him to the cleaners. A long-hop wide of the off peg was contemptuously dispatched through the covers first ball, before a gentle leg-stump full-toss was casually hoisted over mid-wicket for a towering (and highly improbable) six.
Ross Quest had taken advantage of a typically quiet off-season to steal the limelight by announcing, via a series of press releases and high-profile TV interviews, a long-overdue return to the game. Following two seasons of self-isolation – having been an advocate of social distancing long before it became so fashionable – he heralded his return with a boundary of his own as the first over went for a bruising 17 runs.
Thankfully the captain had at his disposal a far more accomplished opening bowler at the other end, with James Gilbert quickly tipping the early balance. Clearly overly fired up and keen to announce his return with a characteristic assault on the bowling attack, Quest inexplicably decided to charge the third ball of the over from the squad’s fastest bowler. Just as inexplicably, Saunders then managed to lob the ball in the direction of the stumps with the batsman well short of his ground, putting the brakes on the Harriers’ early charge.
Despite being smashed all over the gaff in one of the worst opening overs seen at any level of the game, Saunders kept faith with Wickham. It would prove to be a judicious move, despite an inauspicious start. Another rank full-bunger was launched for six by new batsman Harry Hole, only for him to try drinking from that particular well one too many times, getting a top-edge to serial dropper Josh Peffers in one of the less likely dismissals of the innings.
What followed next will forever be remembered as one of the most farcically comedic but momentously symbolic passages of play in Hendrick’s history. Shambolic but superb: a fitting combination.
Simon Minchinton’s two-year hiatus and subsequent return to the warm, spongy and sometimes uncomfortably moist embrace of the Hendrick’s XI was sadly to be overshadowed. Having picked up a couple of quick runs he then missed a full, straight, slower-than-usual one from Wickham, with the ball lightly disturbing the furniture like a house cleaner delicately brushing crumbs from an antique chaise longue.
That brought to the crease the statistically most destructive batsman on record, the demolisher of economy rates, Qas Khattak. His first ball – an arching, looping grenade – enticed him almost halfway down the wicket as he attempted to slam it into the stratosphere. But, continuing a trend of ‘feast or famine’ form that has become his trademark in recent seasons, Khattak was undone by the complete lack of pace as he overbalanced, bat flying dramatically from his hands and narrowly missing the head of a startled umpire.
He turned, only to see Saunders catch the ball, drop it, pick it up, fumble it again, retrieve it once more and finally turn it, now sprawled in an undignified heap, back on to the stumps. Absolutely astonishing scenes.
On to the final ball. The hat trick delivery. Surely not?
Jonny Franks to the crease, who, in his only outing in Hendrick’s colours, showed the kind of diligent, level-headed batting so desperately lacking in a wildly undisciplined team. Perhaps it was captain Hewlett’s full-throttle, balls-to-the-wall, gangster rap-soundtracked pre-game team talk – in which he urged wild aggression over steady accumulation – that unnerved him, we’ll never know.
Attempting an ambitious reverse switch-hit from his first ball, in the direction of Ravi Patel stationed down at third-man, it appeared as though he had gotten away with his devil-may-care approach. This is, after all, is a man for whom the art of fielding is like a great work of art – something to be admired from afar, but never touched or practised oneself. Today, for whatever reason, was different.
Seeing the ball sail high into the air, Patel charged in showing a fresh and disarming athleticism, straining to position himself under the catch. For an instant it looked as though he wouldn’t make it, a misjudged attempt at heroism, but at the last minute he managed to lever his frame off the ground, falling dramatically and clasping the ball mere inches from the turf as he held on to a stunning two-handed catch. He quickly picked himself up, using a freshly materialised bat to treat the fans to his customary Ravindra Jadeja-inspired ‘Twirling Sword’ celebration.
With the innings in tatters at 32 for five after just three overs, and the heart of the batting order ripped out, it appeared that – much like the British government’s laissez-faire approach to global pandemics – Hewlett’s risky pinch-hitting strategy had badly backfired. It would take true steel and sterner resolution to claw their way back into a position of respectability.
The skipper elected to lead by example, retreating to his usual attritional style and hitting sixes slightly less frequently. He was joined by Tom Summers who, having scored literally no runs during the 2019 season, superbly took his first four balls for 16 in a stunning counterpunch not seen since the heyday of a certain Adam Gilchrist.
When the gallant captain eventually fell, for a battling 39, to a combination of Patel’s beguiling right-arm and Saunders’ surprisingly sharp work behind the stumps, he was replaced by fellow blocker-in-chief Tom Metcalf. But another dramatic turnaround was on the cards.
Teeing off with aplomb, Metcalf demolished the bowling, dishing out particularly severe punishment for new recruit Martin Bolt, whose debut over was bludgeoned for 24 merciless runs. He continued to make hay while the virtually simulated sun shone, racking up no fewer than six sixes as leather flew effortlessly from willow in a wildly uncharacteristic performance.
Down the other end, however, he began running out of partners. Some metronymic bowling from James ‘Swingmaster General’ Rollett had dried up the runs, before Patel returned for another tidy over. He snared Summers first ball before picking up the scalp of reluctant tailender Ed Robinson with his last, doing little to help Robinson’s vociferous (and frequent) claims that he is in fact a top-order batsman who needs to “come in at number three”.
Momentum faltered once again as Metcalf, having relentlessly hammered his way to a maiden half-century, was trapped LBW by Oli May, before Bolt partially redeemed himself with some canny death bowling, spearing in a yorker to clean-bowl Shahi Ghani for eight as the innings collapsed like a flan in a cupboard. Number 11, Ajay Shah, could be heard lamenting his poor luck and lack of batting support, having come dangerously close to overhauling his own personal top score with a well-constructed innings of two streaky singles.
Summary: 148 all out
Metcalf 59, Hewlett 39, Summers 20
Wickham 4-25, Patel 3-20, May 1-11
Second innings: Saunders Spitfires need 149 to win
Despite burning bright but burning out after just 11.5 overs, Hewlett and his merry band of Harriers had at least set a potentially defendable total. And there were to be encouraging early signs as the captain tossed the new ball to Ghani, a bamboozling purveyor of indistinct pace.
Saunders adopted a typically nonchalant approach to the chase, calmly blocking the first ball before clipping the second away as he strolled through for a leisurely single, his body moving between the wickets but his mind clearly floating across the sporting greens of rural England as he day-dreamed of lazy summers and everlasting cricket.
Opening partner Owez Madhani was back playing his first game since extensive facial reconstructive surgery, his last Hendrick’s innings having ended in a trip to an Oxford A&E department following a fiery short ball to the mouth. Unsurprisingly he looked markedly less relaxed than the skipper.
Much like Stuart Broad’s perpetual fear of bouncers following his similarly vicious blow to the face, a lingering trepidation remained. Seeing Ghani dig one in back of a length he retreated in the direction of the square-leg umpire, attempting to flay the delivery through the off-side, only for the ball’s modest pace to see it trundle along the ground and skittle into the base of the stumps.
In an over of two halves, new batsman and self-appointed treasurer, sponsor and kit provider, Peffers, eased the chase into second gear. Having spent much of the winter ensconced in a Lords’ training camp under the astute tutelage of former county coaches, he was keen to show the fruits of his labour.
His work clearly had not been in vain as he clobbered his first ball high over the bowler’s head for an imperious six, disappointingly only managing a chipped four from his second, before resuming normal service with another maximum. It rounded off an uneven opening over of 17 runs and one wicket that left neither side entirely satisfied, apart from Saunders who, as always, seemed blissfully content in his own bubble of existence.
The usually reliable Robinson struggled for rhythm in a punishing first over. For a man as miserly with his economy rate as he is with his praise of others, it was a chastening blow, with Saunders gradually getting into his stride and Peffers continuing to lace balls into the prominent advertising hoardings (Disney+ now available for just £5.99 a month).
Ghani’s second over was given equally disdainful treatment, before Robinson struck back. After a flurry of boundaries to start the over, Saunders’ already lofty confidence had apparently soared even further away from him, as he elected to come down the wicket in an attempt to add further insult to the bowler’s injury. Seeing him coming and sliding the ball a touch wider, Robinson sparked a stumping opportunity, with ever-reliable fielding extraordinaire Hole quick to remove the bails.
In a match that featured almost no dot balls, May’s quiet determination to patiently defend and turn down singles was conspicuous. He laboriously advanced the score at less than a run a ball, finding boundaries uncommonly hard to come by in a match that seemed to have reversed players’ usual fortunes. His patience eventually wore thin as he too decided to charge the reasonably rapid bowling of Robinson, only for Hole to take a second stumping in what was fast becoming an absurdly high-octane spectacle.
A shift in fortunes appeared to be on the horizon as Ghani’s third over saw the sensational fireworks of Peffers brought to an abrupt end, having indulged heartily in a rich banquet of fours, sixes and the occasional mid-over Mars Bar.
Next to the crease was wildcard Bolt, an unknown quantity on the field but a man already renowned off it for imparting such Confucius-esque wisdom as “Find a fat bird, put it down her arsecrack for 5 seconds and remove.” Would such mastery of the sexual experience translate to skill with the bat? Initial signals were positive as he sensually caressed his first ball through the covers for a sumptuous boundary.
But his erotically inspired batting proved no match for Ghani’s awkward drifters, who glided the next one past the bat and onto the pads, eliciting the umpire’s dreaded raised finger (raised into the air, not the rear-end crevice, just to clarify).
With the score at 105 for five and the pendulum swinging back towards the Harriers, the game looked, to a reasonably generous eye, well balanced. But continuing his resurgent form from the back end of the 2019 season, Adrian Crawford solidified the middle order with an assured knock. Having plundered boundaries early in his innings he kept the scoreboard ticking smoothly, despite some lean overs from the seasoned, and slightly bent, arm of Shah (not to be confused with the ‘Shah Arms’, his new gastropub venture).
An intriguing duel played out between bat and ball as the crafty Khattak sent down a couple of overs of genuine spin. Facing up to him was the steady presence of Ollie Holland, an infrequent but hugely over-qualified Hendrick’s acolyte, who decided to deal only in boundaries as the match edged towards its conclusion.
Sensing the end was nigh, specialist finisher Gilbert began readying himself for a trademark innings of scintillating late drama. Already padded up and rehearsing his customary series of statesman-like singles followed by a casual six or two, he was fired up and keen to grab the headlines once more.
But he was to be scandalously denied the chance to recreate the magic of seasons past, having already lined up Van Halen’s monolithic glam-rock album 1984 to soundtrack his solo brilliance. Much to his chagrin, Holland remained watchful, dutifully blocking to Khattak like a considerate driver refusing to switch lanes too aggressively on the motorway.
Requiring eight to win, with Gilbert poised to pounce from the sidelines, Holland glanced over to the boundary – possibly calculating the distance, or perhaps locking eyes with Gilbert in a nod to the two men’s lower-middle-order rivalry.
He duly sent the next delivery soaring into an adjacent car park, prompting a delay of several minutes while the ball was retrieved, before setting himself again and heaving the final ball over cow corner as the Spitfires romped home to a five-wicket win, with more than nine overs still in hand.
In the midst of celebration, Gilbert unleashed a furious barrage of expletives at his triumphant teammate, with the words “disgrace”, “traitor” and “skullduggery” all featuring prominently. Saunders was particularly jubilant, having secured victory over his old compadre Hewlett in the inaugural Intra-Squad Shield trophy. When asked about the performance of Wickham, unlikely hero of his bowling attack, he was emphatic.
“It was absolutely, unequivocally some of the worst bowling I’ve ever seen,” he said, beaming delightedly. “So yes, he did exactly what I hoped he would do.”
Summary: 153-5
Peffers 46, Saunders 37, Crawford 26*
Ghani 3-54, Robinson 2-47, Khattak 0-23
* * *
So, did the game-simulation technology work?
Despite featuring preposterously few extras and far too many boundaries, the fact that a Twenty-20 match was wrapped up with fewer than 22 overs being completed across both innings was a startlingly accurate reflection of standard Hendrick’s procedure. We caught up with the team’s newly appointed head of technology, Metcalf, to get his views on its first-ever usage.
“Wickham taking four wickets is obviously a load of shameful nonsense, and makes an utter mockery of all the hard work we've put into perfecting the art of virtual cricket. For that I can only apologise.”
But he remained suspiciously tight-lipped about the algorithm’s projection of his own innings. “Well, to be honest, I think I’m due a 50. I’ve been feeling it coming for a while, today it was just a case of all the pieces falling into place.”
Overall it was – much like Ben Stokes’ absurd solo summer heroics, or the prospect of PM BoJo blustering through a sentence without any allusions to Classical Greek literature – an improbable outcome. But the ride was nevertheless thrilling, unexpected and often downright laughable. Everything we have come to expect from this lovable band of rogues.
And finally, in these 'unprecedented' times of hardship, we thought we'd leave you with a few uplifting words from acclaimed social commentator, Eddie Van Halen, taken from one of Gilbert's favourite '80s masterpieces.
I get up, and nothing gets me down
You got it tough, I've seen the toughest around
And I know, baby, just how you feel
You've got to roll with the punches to get to what's real.
Ah, might as well jump
Go ahead and jump (jump), go ahead and jump!
Full scorecards
Hewlett Harriers
148 all out (11.5 overs)
Saunders Spitfires
153-5 (10.5 overs)