How about a series of local cricket stories flanker?
We had a lad who was badly co-ordinated, couldn't throw overarm or bat or bowl but was a good drinker and did a mean impersonation of Danny La Rue. One of our captains invented a position called Greg's Corner, which was roughly a leg slip about 15 yards from the bat, so that he could underarm the ball to the keeper. On tour in Shropshire he managed to stop a leg glance. He is programmed to throw it to the keeper, who was up to the wicket as it was a slow bowler on.
However the non-striking batsman knew Greg from previous tours, and had called for a run assuming that he wouldn't stop it. He was two-thirds of the way down the pitch when the striker shouted "No!" and sent him back. A quick underhand to the wicketkeeper who then had all the time in the world to throw it to the bowler, was on the cards. Sadly someone shouted "Bowler's end" which confused poor Greg. He was underarming it to the keeper but changed to try and underhand it to the bowler. The ball went straight up in the air, but not too high. The run out was still a possibility. When it came down he dropped it onto his foot from where it rolled slowly towards the wicketkeeper.
One batsman completed two runs, the other couldn't move for laughing.
This is a folk tale from before my playing days but which, nearly 50 years later, the fella is still known by.
Our team are on cricket tour in deepest England. The sun is beating down. The boys have been in the field for an hour or so and the change bowlers are on.
'Bowler's name?' 'Baldock'
Nobody thinks anything much of it until a minute later, from the score box, a lad comes out with the rainy day tub of sawdust.
Henceforth and forever more has Martin Baldock been known as 'Sawdust'.
Incidentally, for those of you that follow the Barmy Army online, this was the fella that was leading the Caribbean crowd in karaoke through Sweet Caroline during a rain delay at an ODI a couple of winters ago.
Playing for a very village Sunday side in the eighties, our regular, very village, umpire was standing at square leg. Opposition batsman absolutely nails one in the air just to ump's right. It's going to the boundary like a bullet. As it reaches him he sticks out his right hand and instinctively takes a lovely, clean, one-handed catch.
Realisation dawns: "Oh bugger. Sorry batsman. We'll call it two shall we?"
Back in the 80's, 6 a side tournaments were quite a big thing. I played in the Car Colston event in 1982*, held on the day of the World Cup Final. My brother pulled a six over the pavilion and hit a cow, but I digress. This story is about a different six a side...
Six a side matches, for those not familiar with the concept, 5 overs, each player only bowls one. 6 wickets per team, last man bats with a runner. Matches played on a normal pitch, with bowler, wicket keeper and 4 fielders. OK, here we go....
Nottingham Sunday League 6 a side Tournament. Some time in the 80's (vague on the year) Held at Farnborough Road, Clifton (now home of a parkrun). We (Notts Ivanhoe) batted first, and I was batting with my brother at the end of the fifth over. The last ball of the innings was a yorker, which I dug out about 2 yards from my feet. We ran a quick single. The bowler raced down the pitch and threw the ball at the non strikers end, missing and sending the ball into the wide open spaces. There followed a series of stolen over throws, each one more frantic than the one before and all accompanied by the hysterical shrieking of the wicket keeper to "Hold it, Hold, it, just fucking HOLD IT!!!" By the time the ball was safely in the keeper's gloves, we had run 7. My pads were round the back of my legs and I was blowing out of my arse.
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