We are a London-based cricket club. Although we don't have our own pitch, we usually play our home fixtures in Greenwich Park. This blog records our regular triumphs and occasional failures.

Tuesday 20 September 2011

Glory in the gloom as record-breaking season ends with a final first - victory at Finchley

It was night-time - almost - when it happened.
A well-pitched up delivery from Frank, a desperate lunge by the batsman in the gathering gloom and down went the stumps.
And up went the cheers.
For this was no ordinary end-of-season wicket.
This was a veritable M & S of a wicket, a little bit of history, a first-ever moment, our maiden win over the mighty Finchley.
After 10 years (virtually) of trying and never really coming close, we'd finally, finally, done it.
In the delirium, the Skip was carried off the pitch into the pavilion where he bumped his head (another first).
Drinks were bought, backs were slapped and hands were shaken.
But my, what a close run thing.
Barely had the cheering stopped but the rains came pelting down.
If we'd been on the ground five more minutes, it would have been 'match abandoned'.
And as ever with a Cincers match, there was nothing plain-sailing about it.
Six hours earlier, the Skip had won the toss and decided to bat, only to realise that nearly half the side still hadn't arrived.
So we had to bat instead.
A scratch order began with Test Match and the Skip making steady if, er, slow progress until the Captain was bowled by Nish, Finchley's left-arm seamer.
Out came Dee and the pair edged forward (literally occasionally).
All the while, there were glances back towards the pavilion to see if Abid, who was ferrying Ali, Shebash and Mohammad, had turned up.
They hadn't.
Thankfully, Tim was getting into his stride while Dee suddenly starting clubbing the Finchley bowling to mid-wicket on a regular basis.
When he fell, for a valuable 20, it brought Tim M to the crease.
It should have been the key partnership of the match for Cincers with our two best men at the crease.
Sadly, Test Match, having looked set, played over a slower ball and was bowled for 42.
Thankfully, Abid had finally arrived at the ground with batters Ali and Shebash.
Pinch-hitter Ali soon got motoring but was clearly flummoxed by Finchley posting two men at longish mid-off and on for his lofted drives.
He was promptly bowled, for 11, trying an outrageous flick off his pads to backward square.
Shebash, so often this season our opener, looked out of sorts at six.
He was run out by a brilliant direct hit for seven but tragically, would have been safe if only he'd put his bat down.
With not much over 120 up and about 10 overs to go, Cincers were in danger of under-achieving.
At the crease was Abid and new-comer Chris who had yet to show his mettle with the bat.
He soon put that right.
Some mighty bottom-hand pulls had Finchley fielders scurrying to long-on and mid-wicket to save fours.
Chris soon had 20 and looked good for more until a disastrous bit of running left him stranded.
Non-striker Abid charged down the wicket, yelling 'one there' but with the ball heading towards extra-cover's hands, Chris stood his ground until it was too late.
Probably unaware that he could have stayed put and left Abid stranded, he finally trudged off but not without an accusatory glare back at his batting partner.
Enter Frank who rapidly set out to sort out the innings and Abid's fitness levels at the same time.
One all-run four had Abid leaning over his bat gasping for breath, with the Skip now umpiring wondering whether he'd have to shout 'oxygen' or 'stretcher bearers'.
In between the gulps of breath, though, we were getting somewhere - 176 for 7 off 35 was at least a defendable score.
It immediately got better.
With the very first ball of our reply, Mohammad bowled Finchley skip Dylan with a quick ball pitched right up.
Soon after, the other opener, Graham, hit Abid to Moyners at cover where he held a fine catch.
Now the contest really began.
Stevie B, Finchley's star performer of the day (he bowled sharply earlier on), was in.
Together with partner Dan, he began to punish the stray deliveries.
The shakey start (Finchley only had about 20 on the board when the second wicket fell) began to recede.
The run-rate of five an over was proving no problem.
It was Test Match who broke the deadlock, skittling Dan for 20.
Soon after, Richard H, with his flighted offies, was wreaking havoc - not without some assistance from Finchley's middle-order.
Richard rapidly had three wickets in the bag - another profitable afternoon for his tweakers.
The odd catch went down, though, and still there was Stevie B, powering past his 50 and looking ominous.
The Skip and Frank started squabbling over field places.
The tension slowly mounted.
But it was Frank who turned the game back in Cincers' favour.
Often his team-mate at Finchley, the Aussie swing-bowler decided Stevie would try to glide him down to third man.
And so he did.
But he succeeded only in guiding the ball into the gloves of keeper Dee who held a smart catch.
The door was open. The run-rate was climbing.
Chris took a fine catch at mid-wicket.
Finchley were teetering on the edge.
The only danger was the weather.
We'd already had one interruption and it was starting to look like rain again.
The light was going.
It got so gloomy that the Skip had to take quickie Mohammad, back on for his second spell, out of the attack.
With just under five overs to go, Finchley needed 30 to win with one wicket standing when Frank wound himself up for one more effort.
It was a miracle he could see the stumps to aim at them it was that dark.
An edge would have gone unseen to the boundary for four.
But he didn't find the edge of the bat.
He found the middle of off stump and the celebrations began!
A fantastic end to an fantastic season.
Victories for the first time ever over Finchley and OWs, together with a clean sweep on the French tour left us with a winning season by a margin of four games - our best-ever performance.
Many, many thanks to all who turned out under Cincers' colours during the 2011 season.
And see you at the winter nets!

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