Match Report - Bures Vs. Halstead Fenns 01/07/03

Halstead KO Cup - semi-final

No contest! Rampant Chambers flays feeble Fenns!

Bures 170 for 4 (20 overs) Halstead Fenns 31 all out.

Bures emphatically returned to their winning ways with a resounding victory over an under-strength Halstead Fenns side, on a soft Bures wicket which had seen a bit of rain! As had been the case a fortnight previously at Chappel in the previous round of the competition, Bures made an uncertain start. Lewis Chambers run out for a duck without troubling the scorer and James Lee LBW playing all round a low full-toss, giving umpire Slow little choice but to raise the dreaded digit skywards. But Matt Whitthread and Christopher Chambers began to repair the damage with opportunistic running between the wickets and some lusty blows. The score mounted nicely and the momentum was maintained even when Matt holed out to long-off, with the arrival of Chris Crace at the crease. The assault in the final 5 overs was brutal, with Chambers particularly dominant. It would appear from the score book that 61 runs were added in the final quarter of the innings, with Chambers posting 76 not out, Whitthread 44 and Crace 26 not out. A most creditable performance.

Fenns will not be proud of their reply in the gathering gloom and drizzle. No batsman made double figures against an accurate McKenna/Chambers C. (can't keep him out of it, can we?) attack. With the heart ripped out of their innings, the stage was set for Joe Dutton and Matt Whitthread to mop up the tail. Innings closed with Fenns humiliated though humble in defeat, with umpire-cum-twelfth-man-well-tenth-man-now Mr. Slow taking a diving left-handed catch at square cover much to his own and everyone else's surprise.

Victory for Bures by 139 runs. Roll on the final! Bures repaired to The Bells, while down at the ground the sight screens miraculously dismantled themselves and made their way back to the pavilion for safe storage and the intelligent WAP-enabled digital time-clocked toilet doors locked themselves. The scorers table sprouted legs and snuggled up in the corner of the pavilion and various cricketing artefacts and items tidied themselves away. Finally, and in a perfect conclusion to this sequence of events, a pro-logic bluetooth-controlled mechanical arm emerged from the thatched roof and gently removed the pavilion key from Mr. Slow's pocket and locked the door, carrying out an infra-red scan of the surrounding area for stray items as it did so. MS sat with his glass of Champagne and cigar, marvelling at the efficiency and labour-saving nature of the technology. A perfect end to a perfect evening.

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