Mighty efforts - Mighty wet - Mighty dark - Mighty winPhoenix West Indians in 2nd League position, with F & P 7 points behind in 3rd spot. A must-win game. But before must-win comes must-play. All week the forecast for the up-coming shoot-out was the only topic of conversation in this neck of the woods. And it was consistent - dry Friday but heavy rain on Saturday.
A small band of volunteers turned out Friday night to cover the strip - Groundman Paul Bachelor and Assistant Groundsperson Wendy Bachelor (who had spent 5 hours working on the square earlier including forking it to facilitate drainage), two Walkers and the Secretary. Hugo Hanchet was due to come later.
Overnight rain was not predicted and did not fall. But rainbursts interspersed with drizzle were forecast to start at 10.00 am.
Will and George Humphreys left home at 6.00 am to be at the ground at 9.00am with Tom Isom (joined by the Secretary shortly after) to put the rest of the tarpaulins over the square and immediate outfield. But there were no tarpaulins there.
Undeterred, a foray was made to the President's house where the pyjama-clad occupant gave the word for 3 of his tarpaulins to be taken. Meanwhile, Dan Collins, a local resident walking his dogs, was accosted and driven to his house where 4 big plastic sheets were made available.
With heavy cloud overhead and the wind getting up, Will Humphreys drove to the docks and then on to Avonmouth to look for more tarpaulins, on return bringing back 20 big ones that he had bought.
So the party of 4 set about laying the covers in a race against time ahead of incoming squalls. But how to weigh them down in the 35mph winds? It was back to the President's house to get fence posts. 89 x 6" posts were carried over and the flapping covers were spread one by one over most of the square and the low-lying areas of the outfield adjacent. Hugo Hanchet might be bringing some more later.
By 12.30pm the biggest squalls had blown by and the main body of team members arrived to remove the covers, carefully depositing the surplus water away from the playing area.
Umpires arrived at 1.00 pm and seemed impressed by the efforts made to keep the square dry and get the game started. The F & P players began manically practising, mostly their catching, and affecting a professional demeanour.
By 1.45pm drizzle had set in but the toss went ahead and skipper Alastair McArthur struck the first blow of the contest sending Phoenix in to bat.
The umpires, despite the heavier drizzle, marched out the the centre and got the game going. The second strategic objective had been achieved but the drizzle was getting worse and the clouds were low and heavy.
Undeterred, Phoenix went off like a rocket. Parish Harper 48 and Amish Bakeria 31 plundered 83 off the first 12 overs. But as the drizzle weakened for a time Mark Walker struck twice up the hill removing both.
The next 8 overs produced just 10 runs and the next 10 overs just 35 runs as Tony Lippe with the wind blowing a gale steamed in over after over down the hill, bowling 8 overs for 10 runs with 3 wickets and 5 maidens in this middle period. Phoenix were 128 for 6 after 30 overs.
But the rain then set in harder and the umpires called the players off to take an early tea. The F & P players raced to the boundary edge to pull the tarpaulins back on, carry the posts back over to weigh them down and re-cover the playing area, assisted by spectator Darryl McArthur clad in extreme wet-weather gear.
Tea was tense. The umpires it seems had not yet counted any time as time lost and there was much reading of the Rules section of the League Handbook. Concepts of reduction to 30 overs, of the first half an hour lost being disregarded and what they did in other Leagues filled the space around Dave Sherwin's egg sandwiches.
Had the rain lightened to light drizzle enough to re-start? The umpires thought so and it was the race back now to pull the covers off, remove the surface water from them and get the 6" posts off the area.
We were away again but now maybe 45 minutes behind schedule. August nights draw in. This was still a 45 over game with no reduction. Would the light hold, even if the rain held off?
Phoenix now upped their run-rate. Barry Gale 58 held the middle order together and boundaries started to flow in the drizzle. Will Humphreys was setting standards behind the stumps but a crack on the finger looked to have broken it and he left the field to come back on strapped to keep keeping. Another 5 minutes lost.
It was now 150 for 6 in the 35th over, the score creeping up. When Tony Lippe came off at last with 15-5-37-4 the Phoenix tail really set about the bowling lifting the final score after 45 overs to 218 for 9, despite a tight spell from Charlie Walker ending with 2 for 25 off his 8. This looked a formidable total.
A quick turn-round and the F & P openers Alastair McArthur and Charlie Walker (in the absence of Simon Bachelor away on holiday) set out on the chase. 219 to get in 45 overs? But in reality, as the gloom set in, there would surely be no more than 30 overs of play left before the umpires called it too dangerous to continue.
The start was careful but solid. 25 for no loss after 7. That left almost 194 to get in likely 23 overs. 8.4 runs an over needed.
The Chairman appeared on the far side huddled against the hedge in his red peacock jacket, fresh from an abandonment at Claverham down the coast.
Now Charlie Walker began to open out. It was very dark but boundary after boundary came, interspersed with quick running between the wickets. Time ticked by in the fields looking for lost balls but replacements were hurled on with umpire-urging strong from the pavilion.
But it was getting so very dark. In the long grass in the far field someone through he caught the glint of Marvin Straightjacket's binoculars. Hitman Mark Walker was padded up ready, pacing up and down practising his shot. Should he be sent in next? Should he be saved for later? Would there be a later?
The openers had put on 146. But then McArthur fell for 59. It was his finest innings of the season and of many seasons, more valuable than his 100 last week. It had been in the ultimate testing circumstances but now he was just a spectator.
Walker Senior strode to the middle. Retrieval squads were despatched to the fields either side ready for the onslaught. The Secretary peered from the scorebox in the gloom. Walker peered at Phoenix captain Nathan Bowen coming in at him down the hill and his off stump cartwheeled backwards first ball. The Failand wild card had been played. The men of Portbury trudged in from the fields.
Back to the normal batting order and Ed Humphreys was sent out to join Walker Minor and still 79 needed. Hugo Hanchet would come later.
Phoenix keeper Vergo was now struck by a lifter below the belt. He lay prostrate and then supine and then prostrate again. A group gathered round him. Time ticked on. He was agonised. The spectators were agonised but for different reasons. Finally the umpires marched towards him with purpose. He was on his feet again. Play could resume. 5 minutes lost.
Walker Minor knew it was now or never and began to unleash a commanding array of strikes to the boundary. He was going for it and succeeding with the middle of the bat. The running between the wickets went up to breakneck speed. The fielders hunched down against the cold. The wind swept on but the rain had stopped and surely the light was improving?
Inside the scorebox it was mayhem. The Chairman had come in and taken over the visitors' book. He was firing out questions like a gattling gun. "What's the score now?" "Is that the end of the over?" "What time did the game start?" You could touch the tension as Secretary and Chairman each marked down each run in his book like it was Judgment Day.
Out in the middle Nathan Bowen, whose return down the hill had yielded the 2 wickets, was despatched for 16 and 18 in successive overs. 187 for 2 off 28 overs. Still 32 needed.
The President himself had come out to see his club home, sheltering against the wall. Had he come to oversee this critical phase? Or had he come watchful lest his 6" fence posts and tarpaulins should disappear into the night?
Hopes had risen for the first time now in the scorebox. 200 off 29 and surely the umpires would not call it off with so few to get?
The runs kept flowing and the weary fielders looked at the end of their tether. Walker had passed his 100, his first in League games for the club and what an innings! The betting was firm that he would carry through to the end. But with the deficit still 1 run he at last fell to one skier too many and left the field at 125 to a standing ovation.
Who would be the chosen one now to be sent in to administer the mortal blow? Hugo Hanchet? No, he would come later. It was to be the Finisher, The Sherwinator. Who else.
And so it was that one more boundary from Ed Humphreys left on 15* was enough and Failand & Portbury had got home with 219 for 3 off 31.1 overs.
It had been a mighty victory against the odds. Phoenix looked shattered but they had given their all and were as generous in defeat as they had been in victory on their ground earlier in the season - formidable and respected opponents.
Now desparate efforts were made to get the covers back on for the game the following day but the wind was too strong and men and tarpaulins could do no more in the gathering storm.
It was over. 25 gold-dust league points had been gained and Phoenix had been leapfrogged into the promotion position.
The ground emptied. Night fell and the long-threatened rain set in. But Failand & Portbury were home and dry.
Next day Paul Bachelor was up early cleaning the pavilion. In the afternoon Ed Humphreys, Heather and the Secretary cleared the ground of the covers, trudging back the 89 x 6" fence posts and 24 tarpaulins to where they came from. Hugo was said to be coming later.
The President appeared on his tractor. "Is all well?" he asked.
"All is well" they replied.
All was well in Lower Failand.
Full scorecard at
1st XI v Phoenix West Indians (home) 16th August 2008
