Crap Match Report
| Thursday 5 July, 2007 |
Sussex 65-3 beat Surrey 60-6 by five runs
 Ramps played pocket snooker |
My trouser pressing was accompanied with regular updates ('it's raining; still raining; anyone watch Coronation Street last night?') from yer man.
Meanwhile, my cricketing companion, the Glamorous Girly Friend, was losing her patience (and no doubt her trouser pressing time) hanging around outside the Oval tube.
Not too taken aback with my laid back attitude, the GGF had a bit of a barny with me on the phone and buggered off back to Bal'ham, muttering some nonsense about 'not wanting to get her hair wet.' You never know luv, it might help you to lose that ginger look.
And so sometime shortly after 7:35, just as I was steaming my smalls, Mr BBC Local Radio Man gave me the all clear. I boarded the recently bought Sir Walter, and quicker than you can say 'WOT NO GGF?' and I was taking up my seat in the OCS Stand.
But this was no ordinary game of twenty20 cricket, if indeed such a concept actually exists. With the Great Gods of TV once again calling the shots, a game of five5 had been called by the
One over per bowler, strict fielding restrictions and the last batsman to slog a six over the OCS is forced to suffer a fate worth than death, being interviewed at stumps by Bumble Lloyd.
Blimey - an evening spent back at Bal'ham with the huffing and puffing GGF would be more preferable.
With Surrey and Sussex both hoping to qualify for the twenty20 quarter finals, it was a farce for such a game to go the way of a school rounders session.
Five5 in the dark? Reminds me of a teenage party I once had the pleasure of attending in my youth. That was a sticky wicket as well, if memory (and smell) serves me correctly.
The SE11 skies were beginning to bruise, and what with the pyjama cricket on show, it was like watching an early '80s day glo MTV video from inside the doom and gloom of a dingy Goth club.
Mr Ramps looked the part as an early prototype of Madonna, prancing around on a South London stage that has seen better days.
Dress You You Up in my Love?
Um, not tonight, thanks, Mr R.
With Sussex taking a knock first, Jonathan Batty had the skids behind the stumps for Surrey. Thank heavens he wasn't wearing his whites, the mucky little pup.
Sussex slogged out a useful 12 runs an over, posting up 65-3 from their 30 balls.
A quick turnaround and James Benn-ing was opening the batting for the Brown Caps. A four from his first ball signaled that the Surrey slogger wanted to make it back home in time for Big Brother.
The rain became heavier than the pressure from the TV big wigs to put on a game of cricket. I questioned my sanity in sitting in the pissing rain when I could have been appeasing the GGF back in Bal'ham ('no, that colour really does suit you, darling.')
I can't tell you much about the Brown Caps' innings; it became too dark to write anything down and Surrey faded faster than the evening light. The stars up above looked rather nice though.
Surrey lost and Sir Walter and I peddled back to onionbagblog HQ II.
And so after a game lasting one hour and five minutes, what next for Surrey? A scheduled thirty two hour game against Durham starting at The Oval tomorrow morning.
The warm up alone will last longer than this farce.
It never rains but it pours, eh GGF?
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