Match Report - Essex Vs. Suffolk 29/06/03

Ian Fisher Memorial Trophy Match

Sad Essex boys sent packing by rampant corn dollies!

Essex 85 for 6 and 204 (innings closed) Suffolk 121 for 7 and 169 for 0. Suffolk won by 10 wickets

A 6.30am start was a little beyond one or two members, but a quorum of players assembled on time, to be greeted by the welcome sight of Ros Brogan on early morning tea and coffee duty (although she herself chose Pimms). The Suffolk side, having arrived on a selection of agricultural vehicles and implements, mumbled with their deep East Anglian accents whilst the Essex Boys, all dropped aitches and cockney rhyming slang, drooled over their freshly resprayed XR3s, Cosworths and of course furry dice. Mr. Slow for the spillers and Sammy Saer for the swede-bashers tossed a coin in the half-light and dew of the morning and Essex were duly inserted.

The boys from Basildon didn't find batting in the dark too easy. Operating with only sonar to judge line and length, openers Mr. &  Junior Slow were soon parted as the ball zipped around on a diesely surface. Top order bats Marc Norton and Roger Chunnoo fell to deliveries coming out of the moon before a mini revival between Mr. Slow and James Lee gave the cut and shunt merchants hope. Innings closed after 20 overs at 85 for 6, perhaps 30 runs short of par. The haymakers gave a spirited response. Darren "Golden" Bugbee fell to Junior Slow without troubling the scorer who could now be seen in the distance as the darkness lifted and the mists dispersed. But both Ayers, Warden and Dutton all made double figures and Suffolk closed at 121 for 7, a lead of 36.

The two sides buried their cultural differences and piled into the communal Essex Pikey Transit pick-up for transport to The Eight Bells for breakfast, stopping only once on the way to pick up a dumped defunct twin-tub washing machine which Mr. Slow surmised could be sold at the Tilbury dump for a sov. or two. A full cooked breakfast with appropriate liquid refreshment was much enjoyed by all, courtesy of Mrs. Norton and appropriate damage was inflicted on Mr. Amos' beer stocks. Needless to say, despite the earliness of the hour, the tea and coffee resources were not troubled.

Suitably fortified, The Essex Boys embarked on their second innings with some gusto, James Lee and Ben Cropper punishing the carrot crunchers' attack with a succession of shots around the wicket. But sadly both found themselves back in the pavilion prematurely, the former offering a "deal" on "a bit of carpet I 'ad left over, mate" while the latter busied himself with his arc welder in the hope that his old jalopy might just get a (bent) MOT. The good Doctor Brogan, fresh from his roving midnight surgery ("It's me fibrositers (sic) Doctor, it's giving me piles!") lasted only a few deliveries against a hostile Chambers C. off his full run. Hopes were raised with Mr. Slow and Marc Norton (refreshed after a quick nap), at the crease. MS is showing the benefit of his spiritual bonding with Mr. Stodge, hanging around for hours for a paltry 15 and holing out to a long hop. But the highlight was yet to come with Tom Cropper at the crease accompanied by a brace of Chunnoos. "No Chunnoos is good Chunnoos" as the good Doctor pointed out, but the innings closed at lunch with the total on 204 for 7, presenting Suffolk with target of 168 required for victory. Run makers - J. Lee 41, B. Cropper 34, M. Norton 25, T. Cropper 49 not out.

The Ladies enjoy a break from their luncheon duties at the clubhouse bar

Junior Slow reclines in anticipation (sadly unfulfilled) of a productive innings.

Lunch was an extended affair. The ladies had done us proud!  Copious salt beef, pie and Mrs. Norton's industrial grade scotch eggs were the order of the day, accompanied by fresh salads, Essex Boys' Bitter, fine wines and even some tepid fizzy muck! The first signs of dilapidation on both sides were noticed, with several casualties asleep on the grass and even the odd somnambulant! After an extended siesta, which both teams spent at the bar, Essex took to the field confident of defending their lead. Resumption was delayed by the antics of Chunnoos, with Richard taking the plunge off the new Stour river bridge and losing his thong in the process. It took less time than one would think to extricate him from the river mud and he was restored to decency with a quick fibre glass repair kit which one of the Essex boys had in his toolbox.

A quick polish of their prized Cortina Mark 4 on the H and the Essex boys were in the field and firing at Chambers C. and Ayers C. What happened next is something which does not often happen in our type of cricket. The opening Suffolk pair weathered an opening burst from the Essex pair of J. Lee and M. Norton before getting stuck into the Essex slow bowlers. 

To add a serious note to this less-than-serious report, I have to say that that both Christopher Chambers and Chris Ayers played remarkable innings. The Essex bowlers were hit to all parts with scarcely a chance going to hand. The target of 164 was reached off only 25 overs, representing a consummate victory for the grain merchants by 10 wickets, with Chambers 84 not out and Ayers 74 not out. Although both players are accomplished batsmen, few would have predicted the ease with which the target was reached. Well done to both of them! Mr. Slow, in his address to the nation, paid compliment to the grain merchants, thanked the ladies for their superb catering contribution to the day and begrudgingly conceded defeat. Tina was asked to present the Ian Fisher Memorial Trophy to the winning skipper, Chris Ayers and with alcohol stocks all but exhausted both sides repaired to the Bures Swan with the night still young.

Needless to say, the mood was sombre in the Essex camp, having been routed by a bunch of carrot crunchers, but I suppose that they came to realise that them ole country boys know a thing or two! The Essex boys retraced their steps down the A12 to return to their residences in Chadwell St. Mary, Pitsea and Tilbury stopping only to refill car radiators and refit stainless steel exhausts which had inexplicably rusted away (It's real stainless, honest mate!). It had been a most unusual game of cricket, of a type of which Ian Fisher would have been proud! On this showing, matches for this trophy will be keenly competitive for many years to come!

Chris Ayers clutches the Ian Fisher Memorial Trophy in the presence of Tina and tired and emotional losing captain, Colin Bocking (Essex).

Contact us - here