Jonola14

CRICKET BIRTHDAY

The first mistake Nick M made was to invite Simon S, Michelle C and I to his birthday party. The second was to host it at a cricket match in which he was playing.

As soon as we noisily arrived at Pyrford Cricket Club during the hush-hush silence of the visiting team’s innings, Nick became edgy. Simon S, Michelle C and I positioned ourselves directly behind the bowler’s arm (strictly forbidden in cricket etiquette) and sat on two rusty old rollers, immediately enquiring at what time the bar opened. We put the ‘Happy Birthday’ balloons in the tree behind us and held up the large double bed sheet we had brought with us, with the word SPLENDID in huge bold letters scrawled across it, at the most inappropriate times.

‘WALKING IN’ I yelled in Nick’s direction as the bowler ran up to bowl once more. Nick was clearly not amused and gave the signal for us to stop heckling. ‘CROWD THE BAT’ I shouted, demonstrating my impressive tactical knowledge of the cricketing game. Then the batsman hit a boundary and we vigorously shook our sheets of paper with the number ‘4′ on until the fielder retrieved the ball from the overgrown bush and returned it to the bowler.

‘TOP OF THE STUMPS’ I shouted, as one of the fielders fizzed the ball passed the wicket keeper’s ears in a bodged attempt to run the batsman out. ‘GOOD CATCH NICK’ Simon shouted from the sidelines when Nick was tossed the ball by the slip and asked to return it to the bowler.

Then the batsman hit an almighty six, and we watched in awe as the ball sailed over our idiotic heads, bounced once and landed directly on the top of a Ford Ka. I ran to retrieve it, but only succeeded in tripping over a concealed tree stump and spilling my beer.

Pyrford had only scored 157 in their 55 overs and the visiting team were slowly (at a pathetic two an over rate) knocking them off, so to speak, and something had to be done.

Suddenly the batsman swiped wildly at a delivery outside the off-stump and took an edge. The wicket-keeper saw it late but dived spectacularly to his right and caught the ball with an outstretched right hand. ‘WHAT A CATCH!’ I congratulated from the boundary and, with that, stood up, took the 1920’s rattle from my pocket and shook it fiercely, creating a very loud rat-a-tatting noise that got the attention of absolutely everybody there. Simon S immediately held up the ‘SPLENDID’ banner once more before collapsing in a hysterical heap of laughter.

Nick, in the meantime, didn’t know where to look. ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICK’ Simon offered, as another few runs were knocked off the total. The batsman hit a superb shot in Nick’s direction and, to our utmost delight, Nick couldn’t reach the ball in time to prevent it going for four runs. ‘COME ON NICK, ALERT IN THE FIELD PLEASE’ came the cry. You could sense the embarrassment in his face.

Eventually the visiting team won and the players left the field, which was great because the bar would then be permanently open and we would be able to get started properly.

In front of his entire cricketing colleagues, and some of the second eleven who had since returned from their unsuccessful match away at a neighbouring village, Simon S and I revealed Nick’s present to him - a two foot donkey made out of cardboard and confetti, with a hole in its hind quarters so that it could be filled with various bits before being clubbed open by a blindfolded game-player with a view to winning its contents. Nick was clearly chuffed and choked for words.

After draping the ‘SPLENDID’ banner over the face of the scoreboard, taking charge of the barbecue in true Pighead and Teacosy Reheated style, some serious drinking took place. Overhearing a cricket-related conversation, I reminded someone I had never ever met that the ‘pitch’ is actually known as a ‘wicket’ and Simon made some comments about Nick’s ass (his present, not his rear end…)

Anyway, eventually it was time to take the short taxi ride into Woking town centre where we queued up for a late bar/club thing. I cursed the white-trainer wearing, ear-ringed vest types that shared the queue, but was comforted by the abundance of good-looking women around.

So there we were, in one corner of the insanely hot club, when the two hungriest people on the planet appeared and tried to eat each other. Honestly I’ve never seen people go at it so vigourously. It was quite grotesque - the bloke clearly hadn’t eaten for a fortnight, yet the girl he was eating was definitely no stranger to a fish supper. A round of applause ensued when the couple came up for air ten minutes later, but were soon back where they started from, with Simon S dancing stupidly right in front of them, trying to get their attention.

Nick’s girlfriend turned up, and we’d never met her before (Nick had, luckily), so it seemed like a brilliant opportunity to make some stuff up about him. By the time we left the club, Sarah was left thinking that her boyfriend was a converted homosexual that had once been ejected from Tesco for juggling chickens.