Cricket is a game of highs and lows, and on Sunday the Peckers discovered just how far apart those peaks and troughs can be. Riding an eleven-match winning streak, we arrived in the picture-postcard village of Brook with visions of extending our record to a dozen. The sun blazed, the dogs settled in the shade, the tea was chilling in the pavilion and the stage was set for another chapter of this incredible season. Brook have been struggling with Sunday sides, so we were playing a wandering side Romany with a few Brook players, both managed by Jonathan King who did a great job organising everything, including three Indian ringers, one of whom had represented Hyderabad.

Fielding:

Groundskeeper, who unusually was given the new ball, rumbled down the hill and took a couple of overs to find his radar. At the other end, Greasy opened his account with two costly overs that saw him escorted politely (but firmly) to the leg-side boundary after being dispatched by a pair of enthusiastic teenagers who clearly hadn’t read the script. To twist the knife, his replacement was Snax who found no immediate joy either. After eight overs, Brook were 48 without loss, and the warmth of the day was starting to feel heavier on our backs.

Relief came when GK drew the edge and Kwakka snaffled a beauty behind the sticks. The breakthrough, however, was a lonely one for some time; the next wicket took seven more overs to arrive. Pobs brought himself on, perhaps channelling Ben Stokes in spirit if not in economy, as he struggled a bit up the hill.

Cat finally broke the drought with a tidy catch to GK at square leg to produce a nice little Monkton Combe combination. At the other end, Chefry’s cunning fingers coaxed two scalps from the opposition, each owing much to catching brilliance. First came Potter, haring in and somehow plucking a dipping ball from thin air. Then GK, having earlier misjudged one, redeemed himself with a snow-covered steepler at long on. Throughout the day Chefry was in the thick of it as the ball followed him around the pitch, having him tumbling around and hitting the deck in a valiant attempt at a return catch before the slope played its cruel tricks and took his legs away from him. There were also a couple of tumbling drops, Merry running round the boundary and Snax running in from square leg brilliantly captured by ace videographer, the Old Horse.

The score was finally looking more kindly and with Brook now at 129-4, momentum was swinging our way. Merry then lit up the field with a direct-hit run out, sending the bails cartwheeling. Kamikaze arrived to fulfil Pobs’ “everyone bowls an over” rule, and in true one-over-wonder style, claimed a wicket with an assist from Kwakka into the hands of Pirate at first slip, and Potty tried some aerial bombardment that induced some great tennis shots from the bemused Indian batsman

Despite the score looking better, this first innings was going by incredibly slowly. The Brook batters were taking guard as if they’d booked in for a five-day Test and walking away from their spots every second ball. That, partnered with long pauses to retrieve balls from the hedge and a small disagreement between Pobs and the umpire over a ‘new’ ball that had already seen more lives than was good for it, extended this painful stint in the sun beyond all of our pleasure. Thankfully, Greasy finally showed skill in his new death bowling position through finding the stumps and being awarded LBW by an umpire who had probably had enough! Cat’s final strike, wrapped the innings up and brought on tea with Brook 181 all out.

Tea:

Brook had informed us that tea was going to be “light” this week which was never going to cut it for the Peckers, so we rolled up with our own banquet worthy of a Lord’s Long Room luncheon. Smoked salmon sandwiches, homemade black pudding sausage rolls (in honour of Big Merv’s legendary batch), tomato tarts, a cheese board, plum cake (courtesy of Marmalade), and a coolbox brimming with Peronis and chilled Pinot Noir. It was less a cricket tea and more the opening night of a food festival, the sort of spread that would make a Michelin inspector loosen his tie. Plates were passed, glasses clinked and dogs loitered hopefully at knee height. It was the kind of spread that could make a man forget he had to bat(or how to).

Unfortunately, someone did.

Wonderful Spectators -Potties, Pirrates, Rotcods, An Old Horse,A Ducky and a quartet of canines

Snax adding Chilli and the Pirrate Kwakka enjoying the latter’s cheese board, washed down with the former’s Pinot

Pobsy recreated Merv’s Sausage and Black Pudding Rolls from Brook 2021

Batting:

To loud groans, Cat and Pirate strode out needing 182 from 35 overs. They began well. Pirate, with mother Dorree and daughter Willow cheering on, played with trademark patience before falling for 14. Kamikaze joined Cat but never looked settled, despite Samurai’s moral support, and soon made way for Merry. Cat, meanwhile, was the picture of calm. Through punishing the bad ball and respecting the good, he notched up his fourth Pecker’s 50 before retiring.

He was the image of a ‘proper batsman’ playing ‘proper shots’, much to the quiet irritation of his pals on the boundary! But cricket, loves balance and unfortunately Cat’s retirement left the door open for what all Peckers knew would come. It seems it is an occurrence as inevitable as time itself. Horse who had been spectating, filming some great videos and taking part in cheese and wine made his departure with words “I am going to leave before the Pecker’s collapse” and collapse we did, in the most spectacular of styles. At 85-2 we looked well-set; four overs later, we were 111-7. The bowling? Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly Glenn McGrath, more the sort of loopy grenades Runkey would have applauded. Yet somehow, we found every fielder in the postcode. Kwakka and GK both being caught for ducks and Merry, Greasy, also being caught for relatively small scores. Even with Cat’s return, the damage was done. Pobs tried to stitch together the tail, but the last wicket fell with our hopes, the winning streak ending not with a bang but with the faint rustle of a scorebook closing.

And yet, the sun still shone, the wine still flowed, the dogs still dozed, and tea… well, tea was the real winner.