Nearly There
By Ian Clark
WEEK 9
JULY 5th 2008
3rd TEAM v COMPTON &CHANDLERS FORD 2nds (H)
1st TEAM v BEDHAMPTON (H)
It's sunny; really sunny. Our Pompey backstreet is so drenched in warmth and light the reflections stop you seeing the colours of the cars for a while. Mum and Dad are down this weekend and intend to shuttle between me and the thirds on the Green and Tom and the firsts at the Hollow.
Hannah is playing our old club, Portsmouth Community, in a promotion match. There is an etiquette about leaving cricket clubs. It's permitted to leave to play a better standard (if you can) or if you move away (if further than 20 miles); and that's it really. Cricket clubs engender and demand loyalty.
We left Portsmouth Community for acceptable reasons: Tom could not play a good enough standard. Hannah stayed to play for their Ladies' team that is in the Premier Division of Ladies' Cricket. I captained their league team two summers ago, but it emphasised the silences and detachment of the end of my marriage. I moved to Sarisbury to bring changes to my life; I rented a flat in Warsash, near friends, just down the road from the Hollow. And to be near the cricket club. It was a refuge that summer. We all three played in the fourths and my contact afternoons were not spent with longueurs at McDonalds but straining to get promoted from Regional South-East 4 of the Hampshire League.
And what mates we had. Les was captain of the fourths then still sneering at father time with 12 over new ball spells. Shaun was slumming with us because of a back injury and smashed 500 runs; Mark Hansford and Mike Garner, two of the nicest men in the world. And Colin and Landers and the rest, and we almost did it too. We choked in the penultimate game when the year seemed to catch up with me and we were stuffed out of sight. A season of change for me; not wanting to take off my helmet at Rowner when the depression was blowing in and walking off with Tom in the final game having put on 81 together to beat Purbrook fourths and Mike Garner on the boundary edge greeting me with a broad grin and a handshake. We both knew that Tom and I were unlikely to bat together in the league again. Mike said "I'd love to have done that with my lad".
That season was a watershed and I've got a lot to thank cricket and the fourths for but I'm never sure it's healthy with its alcohol, obsessions (with numbers, with ritual, with loyalty, with performance) and hours in a male environment - it's like an open air pub. I've looked round the dressing rooms of the thirds and fourths these past three years and so many of my kind, funny, decent team mates, Mike G, Mark Hansford, Greg, Olly, Tim Cooper, Robbo, Danny O, Callow, Richard Azar, Robbie, Floydy, they're all single or divorced. And they're all still here.
Mum and Dad are sat in foldaway chairs by the whitewash pavilion. It's a magnificent summer's day; the sort of day that stays in the memory as a template for how summer used to be.
We bat first but are inept again and with three overs to go we're 125-7. Olly has ground out a characteristic 40 when I join him. What followed was 42 runs in 3 overs, nearly all of them to Olly. We ran some quick singles, Olly pulled a huge 6 over the old A27 and then refused to punch gloves with me. "We don't do that," he said, just in case I got the impression he was enjoying himself in any way. We finish with 167-7; Olly is 85 not out and the game should be won.
Mum and Dad's seats are empty though. They sloped off to see Tom but stayed to watch Pete at his most fantastically belligerent. We'd had warning of what was going on when Floydy had driven over and shouted excitedly out of his window that Pete had hit 80 in 50 balls. It was odd seeing Floydy so animated, he's played in the Southern League for years, but Pete in full-flow is exhilarating and as the season ticks down the firsts just have to keep scoring big.
I spent tea at the Hollow. I could see 302-4 in the distance; Jockey had also scored 80. Tom looked older than 16 as he chatted to my Mum and Dad; he's maturing in the company of men.
We bowl well and Chandlers Ford don't show much stomach and we've won by nearly 100 runs. We've finished early so we can watch the firsts. Bedhampton are a strong batting side and are making a determined effort but they are never going to get 300 and there's a relaxed pleasure watching a comfortable win with a cold cider.
Hannah appears. She's scored 22, her best league score but the fourths had lost by 1 run. It's hard for her to be excited when she's lost narrowly. The fourths are now 5-4 and they'll struggle to get promoted from there. Hannah got out with victory in sight, so there's gnawing culpability too.
