Computers never lie

In light of his efforts to deny Walkup's victory we have felt obliged, out of journalistic integrity, to obtain the raw data from Canada. As below it can be seen that he was clearly second behind Walkup.

Montreal - A Retrospective

As Hoots would say it isn’t the places you go or the sights you see but the people you see it with that matter and on that basis Montreal gets a very large thumbs up with our hero enjoying one of the best stag does with some very fine fellows. He reports considerable excitement at repeating the experience with the same said fine fellows in Maine at the wedding.

As to Montreal the city your correspondent found it to be a rather odd city with some splendid buildings but a vast majority of 60s and 70s concrete garbage.


The mountain clearly takes the place out of the ordinary but if there is one abiding memory it has to be the quality of the women who, it cannot be denied, were generally of splendid quality. Indeed he reports that Montreal has almost as high a “hotty:hound” ratio as Galway.

All in all an excellent stag destination, just a shame it is so far from home.

Bill's stag - The Final Day

With our band of merry travellers in differing degrees of distress (ranging upwards from very) Sunday morning was always going to be a challenge and with skinny Chris setting the pace for early departures (0845 flight) a great deal of goodbyes needed to be squeezed in.

For our hero this meant breakfast with Bill and Walkup, lunch with Corbett and Walkup (at a place called Schwartz’s which is allegedly a Montreal institution, why is beyond us as the food was foul) and late lunch with Phillip before eventually settling in at the bar at the airport and a very long wait until the flight home.

Bill's stag - The Second Day

After some frankly farcical attempts at getting some sleep after the first night shenanigans the team eventually re-gathered one by one (much to the irritation of the waitress) at “Café Imagination” (which was somewhat of a pleasant surprise in light of Walkup’s advice to meet at “Café Mage”).

Suitably fuelled with scrambled eggs, bacon and orange juice (about 5 gallons thereof for Maddox) they decided to go Go-Karting. Montreal is blessed with the largest Go-Karting track in North America and the boys were very excited, although struggling through hang-overs, on arrival with some quite remarkable claims for domination of the track.

The stag was rather handed a bum steer with a kart that stalled every time he turned left whilst our subject demonstrated some real class to end up with the worst time (slightly over 6 times the lap record and double the nearest slowest time) but also managed to sneak one quick lap in to end up second on the grid for the main race.

The race itself rather resembled a game of bumper cars with Oren in particular smashing into our subject with remarkably free abandon at least once a lap much to our hero’s (and his physiotherapist’s) irritation. Indeed so angry did he get at the constant rubbing that under a yellow as Oren sought to indicate his appreciation for the competitive, and quality, nature of the driving he ended up being subjected to a torrent of abuse.


With Oren, our hero and Walkup contesting the lead (and all lapping Skinny Chris and the others with gay abandon) the race was a roller-coaster of exciting moves and passes. At the flag our hero was shaking his fist in celebration convinced he had won but as the computer revealed he came a distant second to Walkup, a fact that he took around 6 hours to accept.

Having cleared the heads through the medium of petrol fumes they hit a bar for lunch and to start the process all over again but despite the temptation of drinking on through sensible heads prevailed (clearly not our subject) and whilst people headed off for assorted naps, swims and trips to the gym Bill, our hero and t’other Chris headed up the Mountain (the Mont that gives Montreal its name). To find a mountain in the middle of a city is always rather an odd experience but it does have the advantage over more remote mountains of having a road (and therefore taxis) that lead to the top. They did at least have the decency to walk down.




With the exercise out of the way a quick shower followed before the evening kicked off in Globe. Now as our readers will know we are loath to promote or advertise on this site (unless the kickbacks are suitably generous) but on this occasion we feel constrained to make an exception if only to acknowledge the remarkable recruitment processes that this restaurant clearly engages in. To describe the waiting staff as attractive would sell them short. Of course the usual level of maturity to be expected on these occasions was demonstrated and Oren, Maddox and our hero in particular took to encouraging the ladies to lean over for the (décolletage) viewing pleasure of the table.

Surprisingly no coronaries ensued and after a very fine meal the boys decamped onto the streets to enjoy the cigars that Maddox had kindly sourced for the evening. After some time wandering the streets, smoking and looking like right charlies, they descended on an enormous beer garden and settled in for some quality drinking.

Our hero quickly lost patience with pouring the beer from the pitcher into his glass and took to drinking by the pitcher load direct from the pitcher.

Meanwhile a table of girls next door had clearly been following a similar course and as one of them passed out face first into the table her friend sat quietly next to her puking out of her nostrils and into her hands. A truly beautiful vignette.


Having marked t’other Chris’s birthday with a rousing chorus of the appropriate song (joined in by most of the revellers in the bar) the decision was taken to move on. Our hero dashed to the toilet and on his return noticed that the staff were just clearing up a near full pitcher from the table. Horrified at this waste of fine beer he quickly dashed in to rescue the same and despite the frantic cries of said staff quickly started downing same. About half way down the penny dropped and he turned to Bill and uttered, “I’m drinking slops aren’t I?”.

With that he considered his work done and bidding Bill and the others good luck headed back to bed. He awoke about 30 minutes before Bill and Maddox got in.

Bill's stag - The First Night

As usual our experienced traveller has outdone himself on arrival, on this occasion he was surprised to learn they speak French in Montreal – he had always thought that the Canadians having French speakers was a bit of a joke to drag in the Francophone tourists.

Having got over the initial shock and dusted off his appalling Franglais however he has settled in quite nicely.

It is apparent however that not all Bill’s friends are quite so relaxed about being in a foreign country, probably the best illustration of this was the call from Milos before he caught his flight from New York to check the phones work “up there”.

The first evening was dedicated to sampling some local fare and a place called “Taco Bull” provided their repast. He went for the Mega Burrito which apparently is traditional Canadian food.

Of course this is a stag and a trip to a den of iniquity is compulsory and the locals supplied a remarkably good version of the usual mix of sin and alcohol. Clearly decorum requires us to skim over the details but the highlight certainly was when a young lady came over to them and asked “excuse me but have you seen a pair of panties like these?” whilst pointing to her bra.

Bill's stag - The Flight

As the title to this missive would suggest despite the ticket debacle he did in fact make it to Heathrow, thanks to his mystic arts of persuasion. Air Canada flies from Terminal 3 the real scene of where this little project was born some 485 (ish) days ago when he and Hoots sat down to breakfast at the fish bar and supped their first ale of the “Trip” and in homage to that great day he enjoyed breakfast there again.

A great start; not so far being replicated by Air Canada as it would appear they acquire their ‘planes as cast-offs from various sub-Saharan countries and do not bother refurbishing them. The one for the flight over appears to be of Cuban Missile Crisis vintage. As he sat down he looked at the seat in front and noted to your correspondent that it looked a little odd but couldn’t place why, 5 minutes later the penny dropped – the ‘plane is devoid of individual in-flight entertainment systems, the scandal of the thing. Instead for his “delectation” has been on of those old-style cinema screens.

So with nothing to do he has dozed off and left your correspondent to watch the movies and fulfil the Barry Norman role – Auston Powers the Spy who Shagged Me, hackneyed nonsense; Music and Lyrics, aka About a Boy Part 2.

Mind there has been some entertainment, the man who fainted and fell into the toilet being the highlight so far.

Bill's stag - The Prelude

His excitement at flying to Montreal for the weekend was rather tempered this morning when he awoke at 0430 to the sound of torrential rain and the amusing prospect of walking to the bus station for an 0545 coach to Heathrow.

The gloss was really knocked off when he got to the station and checked his ticket and discovered he had booked it for the wrong day. Genius.

The Bogun – Gentleman and Blogger

The title of this post comes from the title of a paper presented on our hero at some new media conference jolly in Cannes (passim). We understand the paper is called an Ethnography. Goodness knows what that is supposed to mean. Anyway the text of said paper is reproduced below (with kind thanks to John and Jamie (passim)).

The Bogun – Gentleman and Blogger

The making of the myth

Allegedly, a ‘Bogun’ is a mythical, mischievous bog monster of vaguely Irish provenance. Not famed for its physical attractiveness, the tag was cruelly assigned to the author of our blog by his colleagues at a Berkshire boarding school, when he and they were ‘teaching’ English to foreign students at some undisclosed time in the past. Old enough to know better but all rather bored, they frequently regressed, so the story goes, into regular bouts of heavy drinking and worse, and it was on one such occasion, whilst ‘completely battered’ (to invoke The Bogun’s own parlance) that ‘our hero’s’ scalp was liberally anointed with Immac by his treacherous cohorts.

The shock of the resulting extensive but uneven hair-loss - which first became apparent to him next day as lock after fugitive lock escaped during his morning shower - left him no alternative than to shave off what little remained. Now, looking more than anything else, like a ‘psychopath’ (sic), the ‘Bogun’ resemblance was first evoked and despite some follicular restoration over the years, the title has stuck.



Fast-forwarding to the present, these days ‘The Bogun’s’ earthbound doppelganger maintains a rather more respectable and serious alter-ego – a persona which places strict demands on his time and energy - he is an accomplished lawyer much admired amongst his peers (his 10 year legal career has seen him, amongst other things, representing US inmates on death row).

He is, by all accounts, a consummate professional and in such circumstances and hitting his mid-thirties (his talent is precocious), ordinary mortals would perhaps secure the moorings a little and settle into an ordered and more evenly paced lifestyle. Not so the real life ‘Bogun’. All the evidence points to a frenetic and at times reckless social round revolving about skiing, cricket, rugby, soirées, dalliances and always, always, libations, and always, always, rather more than could feasibly be necessary.

How shall we know him?

Our real life subject is an itinerant, restless soul; always moving about the place either in the course of duty (he splits his professional time between Bristol and Birmingham), and/or fulfilling the demands of a hectic social diary. We initially caught up with him at home although it is clear that he does not feel particularly ‘at home’ anywhere at present. The breakdown of his three year marriage led to 6 months off at the start of 2006 during which time he took off around the world - one soon gets a sense that his personal effects along with his domestic instincts, remain somewhere in transit.

More akin to a nomadic, marauding shark, he is a particularly difficult individual to observe ‘in situ’ and so, at his insistence, we agreed to an interview in what at the moment is arguably his most ‘natural habitat’, the opulence of Hotel du Vin’s Bubble Bar (typically, he actually lived right here, in Birmingham’s best hotel, for several months last year). Here, he holds court and with strong Belgian beer in hand, soon eases into the task of accounting for his remarkable blog.

He is a warm, endearing but, understandably under such conditions, initially cautious soul. He laughs readily and as you would expect from an experienced lawyer, is wonderfully articulate and measured. He is more than happy to address general questions about his blogging and one of the immediate ironies to strike you is how he has come to use electronic media as a means of expression at all when his public demeanour and stamp would indicate that a good fountain pen and treeware would be more suited.

Little by little we garner clues about the character lying behind the character who reports so tirelessly about a character ……

News from Bogun Towers

Written in the third person by a mysterious reporter, we are treated to regular news feeds direct from Bogun Towers concerning the continuing adventures and antics of the gung-ho Bogun – a well-meaning, but ill-fated socialite and bon viveur. Redolent of Wodehouse’s Blandings Castle sagas in style and of Private Eye’s now discontinued ‘Dear Bill’ letters for their faux discretion and intimate reflections, the blog charts the daily struggles of our hero as he grapples with the challenges offered up by the physical world and his oft-times perplexed social circle as they stare back at him in bemused wonderment. With its breezy bullishness, it is frequently self-deprecating and always very funny.

Bogun’s social milieu is populated by an extensive and exotic dramatis personae who enter and exit the stage sometimes as themselves and at other times thinly disguised as ‘The Jaberwocky’, The Lovely Dennis (long-suffering), Scabby, Gravy, Gay George (not actually gay) et al.

Each episode typically presents us with a well-turned, self-contained, voyeuristic vignette; a passage from a chapter in a life. Some concern the mundane (cricket matches etc.), but the most insightful are those which reflect upon a particularly bruising social encounter. Here, through a mix of wry observation and mordant, acerbic asides, we are offered a glimpse into the deeper psychological recesses of our subjects mind. At once, both the feckless, bumbling soak (sic), and the poisonous, barbed social commentator - the material provides rich pickings for the armchair analyst.

Identity parade

Whether or not the tales are factual, embellished or indeed entirely apocryphal is not the point. What is interesting is his motivation for documenting them in the first place. The Bogun has created and is actively developing a literary identity; a ‘caricature’ in his own words, but why? What is the purpose of the blog? Who is it written for? What is the authorial intent?

It is easy to fall into the trap of over analysis – the author tells us that it all started out as an innocent travelog during his sabbatical year which then just evolved. He also confesses however, that it has now acquired a life of its own and that it is the immediacy of the medium (and the fact that it is instantly accessible to his readership) which spurs him on. Blogging has allowed him to ‘find a voice’ and a vehicle for expression which just did not emerge in conventional diary keeping and offline journal writing (both of which he has attempted but ultimately abandoned).

This is singularly interesting. The Bogun’s personal odyssey may well not be documented at all but for the internet – his virtual identity is drawn in electronic words (there is no accompanying avatar or graphic devices) which are entirely dependent upon and exclusively generated in the blogosphere – he breathes rarefied air and can only survive in a server - pull the plug and Bogun disappears from view. He is an entirely mediated invention.

As for the deeper stuff, there is obviously a psychological reflex going on here. On the surface it is easy to dismiss the blog as a harmless electronic social diary (it is seldom benign in fact) but in another, more important sense, its production serves a more profound role for the author. He is a self-confessed ‘jester’ (sic) and has been since the age of 17; the time in his young life when his father suddenly died. He admits that self-deprecating humour had become and probably perseveres as his way of coping, his ‘defence mechanism’. He also talks openly about ‘The Mother’ who is classically over protective (he is the male figure in an otherwise matriarchal family background). Significantly, Bogun’s Mum is an avid consumer of the blog and whilst he sometimes moderates the tone and content with her sensibilities in mind, could it be that he is sending coded messages to both her and the wider world (he goes to great pains to assure us that no collusion ever takes place and that the blog imitates life and never the other way about)?
Whether or not this analysis stands up to scrutiny is of no consequence. What does matter is that ‘our hero’, this classic English stoic, has found a creative medium which may or may not function variously as an apologia for a life well lived, or a hugely narcissistic expressive showcase, or a cathartic canvass on which to doodle, … and probably more ……

What isn’t in doubt is that most of his friends and acquaintances would much prefer to get a mention than not, and for those of us outside, it offers a fabulously entertaining and at times prurient insight into a complex but vital soul.

Global warming

Despite being a rather sceptical individual re global warming he has recently been pondering whether there might be something in it. His ponderings have been provoked by the following

a) it is June

b) this was the view from his window on Tuesday



c) this was the same view on Wednesday

Bill - an apology

Some of our readers may have made the erroneous assumption that when we said "and possibly most exciting" re the current shenanigans in Cannes that we may have meant that the most exciting event on the recent event horizon was something other than Bill's stag.

We are happy to set the record straight and look forward to reporting from Montreal shortly.

The second promised match report

The by now traditional match against Bill Owen’s XI is one of the highlights of the season and so of course getting a side out is never a difficulty, or so one would think. With various pathetic excuses being offered on Monday there were only 2 names on the team sheet but thanks to some vigorous arm twisting by those two come Friday the team sheet was full with no small thanks to the ringer community (although on the basis that this is technically Owen Williams’s XI as opposed to CW it could be argued they are not ringers).

In light of the awful weather that has beset Bristol these last few days it appeared for some time that worrying about the lack of a team was rather pointless but to everyone’s relief the weather cleared enough for the match to go ahead (although with a very damp pitch and verdant outfield).

Williams lost yet another toss and with Bill deciding to have a bat and with the Lathams just haring into view in their Elise the team took the field.
Burton opened the bowling down the hill and opened with some very tight stuff swinging into the right handed batsmen whilst from the other end Ringer A (Latham R) opened up the hill and also kept matters very tight. Burton picked up their opener with a lovely swinging delivery that clipped the batsman’s leg stump when he stepped too far across but apart from that despite their effort the rewards were thin.

However so was the run rate and after 10 overs only 28 runs had been scored (Burton going for 5 in his 4 overs and Ringer A going for 12 in his 6 overs). Thanks to the pressure some brave running led to a run out thanks to Earl, Ringer B (Burgess) and Ringer C (Murray) who kept their nerve to tack the dangerous wicket of Sara who has punished this team before with his batting.

Ringer C replaced Burton down the hill and generated some fearsome pace (much like the pace he produced in the dark when playing for King Sturge) and also kept it tight whilst Ringer D (Latham C) followed his brother up the hill and also bowled a tidy(ish) line. At drinks the score was 64 for 2 (Ringer C having conceded only 21 in 6 overs and Ringer D 16 in 4 overs).

After drinks McEvoy took over down the hill and Earl started twirling it coming up the hill and both maintained the very tight stuff. The break as usual brought wickets and two fell quickly with McEvoy sneaking one through for a bowled and Earl causing enough confusion to generate another run out.

Ringer E (Denton) was given an over and quickly pulled off and Ringer C and Ringer D bowled the closing overs without getting too badly carted and Ringer C picked up a wicked with Williams hanging onto one behind the sticks, a first time for everything we suppose.

A final total of 166 for 6 was disappointingly high in light of the start but likely to be gettable.

Williams was too knackered after ‘keeping to open and so a very unusual opening partnership of Ringer F (Garbett) and Ringer B. Both opening bowlers got good starts with a maiden apiece before Ringer B clipped the ball down midwicket’s throat. Williams decided he was recovered enough to have a bat and displayed exactly how not to bat with some utter garbage shot selection before, to the relief of all, falling bowled to a very ugly hoik across the line and with Ringer E falling first ball hearts were very much in mouths when Earl faced a good LBW shout facing his first ball.

Ringer F got a little bit of luck before finally putting a top edge down long leg’s throat. Meanwhile Earl was looking to open the taps and smashed a couple of deliveries far and long into the crops growing beyond the boundary ropes before falling rather tamely chipping a return catch.

Ringer C settled in whilst wicket clattered with Ringer D (who got a shocking LBW decision) and McEvoy both falling cheaply. With the score then 74 for 7 in the 19th over the writing appeared on the wall and another embarrassing defeat appeared on the cards. Fortunately Ringer C and Ringer A dug in and after a few overs of getting used to the ball started to open up the taps. Ringer A soon then found his range and smashed three 6s far into the crops before getting a ball that popped on him and dropping it down mid-on’s throat.

With another 35 to go and 8 wickets down the pressure was really on Ringer C and Burton to keep things together. Ringer C decided to get amongst it and smashed four 6s (3 in a row to take him to his fifty) to take the run rate out of the equation and the two of them crept the score up to a fine victory by two wickets (Burton scoring the winning runs) with 5 overs to spare.

A fine game of cricket despite the freezing temperatures and the result now levels the score in the Owen Williams -v- Bill Owen challenge to 2 a piece.

Man of the match is very difficult decision this match, realistically the best performances came from the Ringers (C and A in particular) but Burton with some fine figures and the winning runs gets the nod this week.

The first promised match report

For those of our readers who do not live in Bristol you may be wondering why there has not been a report from Thursday’s match. For those of you who do live in Bristol there will be no wondering. To end the wondering for the non-Bristolians please see below.

Interesting times

We at Bogun Towers are very excited about the next few weeks and we hope to have some first class material to report on for you. First we have a cricket match tomorrow, then another on Sunday and another next week. Second we have Bill's stag do in Montreal which promises to be a belter. Third (and possibly most exciting) his virtual promoters (John and Jamie) have completed their work and we can say that it is first class, it is embargoed until next Monday (when it will be released to an unsuspecting audience at Cannes) but in an exclusive deal we will be publishing it simultaneously on Monday morning. We suggest you keep your eyes peeled for this wondrous event.

The neverending exchange

He has been trying to buy a flat in Brum now for what seems like a quite ridiculous time. The flat itself is very well known to him being the current home of the long suffering yet lovely Dennis which he decided to buy so he could stop being the said long suffering yet lovely Dennis's lodger and get some landlord revenge on her, how very adultlike.

Unfortunately matters have dragged on for ever and despite the fact that he should have exchanged over two months ago they have not. Imagine his amusement this afternoon when his solicitor rang to let him know there was a problem with the deposit, to whit there were no funds available.

Notwithstanding the fact that he does not own it he is carrying on like it is already his and got the current owner to clean out all her stuff at the weekend. The downside of this is that it leaves the flat rather barren and so he got to enjoy a weekend of furniture shopping. Fortunately that was not too bad and the long suffering but sill lovely Dennis proved a more than capable shopping companion and kept him on the straight and narrow (save for the £250 spent on a duvet cover which he justified on the basis that "I got some banter out of the shop assistant so well worth it").

Of course when furnishing a flat one cannot live by House of Fraser alone and so today he has mightily enjoyed the best shopping experience the Swedes can offer and spent the evening erecting flat pack furniture and cursing and the inability of the Swedes to remember to put all the necessary parts in the box. Notwithstanding this setback he is feeling somewhat smug with the progress he has made, we rather suspect that the shelves will collapse overnight however and wipe the grin of his face. Although when he realises that he has forgotten a few things himself and has to head back to the joys of Ikea that should knocke off that grin on its own.

Evil Mastermind

His plan to take over the on-line world and build a new career as a blogging personality with the assistance of Christine's friends (passim) continues and he has just met up with them to discuss his plans for world domination.

Clearly he is already accruing influence as Jamie had realised the futility of face moss and had a shave.

After an hour or so of recording his manifesto on video they all needed a drink and a very convivial evening in Hotel du Vin followed with the usual heavy consumption of alcohol and cigars turning him into a wreck before he made it home around 0200. The next day's hangover was a treat.

More than just wounded pride

Our more discerning of readers will have realised from our last missive that he had a shocker behind the sticks. Your correspondent forgot to mention the blow he took to the head as a result oh said shocker. We trust the picture below will make up for the oversight and demonstrate what a brave little soldier he is.

More cricket

King Sturge

Just once we dream of reporting on a match where the report does not start “After the usual grief putting together a side”; obviously this is not to be the report that fulfils that particular ambition.

Another fantastic evening was however the reward for those who could be bothered to turn out against the might of King Sturge whom by reputation could put out a fine side (including two lads with a striking resemblance to lads who had turned out for CW in previous weeks – sadly the concept of being cup tied does not apply).

Earl insisted on taking the toss and promptly lost and King Sturge decided to have a bat; great, fielding with the sun in our eyes and batting in the dark was the cry.
Burton and Ringer A opened the bowling (Burton remarkably asking to bowl up the hill) and whilst they sent down some fine deliveries (well Burton was) could not make that crucial breakthrough (mainly because Burton was swinging it too far).

Ringer A was quickly replaced by Webb (he would have opened but he did not turn up until 5 overs in). It was not an inspired bowling change. We have been accused in the past of making cheap jibes at the expense of the bowlers but we feel entitled to report without fear of such accusation that on this occasion Webb got carted.

Meanwhile Burton was getting it to hop and skip all over the place but to continuing nil effect.

Thomas (another late arrival) took over from Burton and found some similar movement and variable bounce before getting one through the defences and knocking over the stumps for the first wicket. The second followed quickly with Thomas sending down a thunderbolt that took the top edge and was caught at slip by Ringer B (via the batsman’s eye).

Thomas then snuck a third wicket with another ball snuck through the defences.
Notwithstanding this relatively good period signs were developing that the fielding was going to pot with Simmons dropping a couple and Williams catching the same disease (he ended up dropping four and missing a stumping) and the rest of the side seemed determined to concede overthrows (and the less said about Webb running away from a catch the better).

Earl replaced Webb and bowled some tidy stuff (mixed in with some rank dross) which should have brought more reward than just two wickets but Williams was having a shocker with the gloves.

Some rather frantic running and the only two decent throws of the evening picked up a couple of wickets run out (one an Earl/Williams combo the other all Webb’s own work) and finally McEvoy and Burton combined to complete the innings (with McEvoy bowling some tidy stuff and picking up a wicket).

A total of 136 was higher than it should have been but within reach.

Halden and Williams opened the batting and Halden showed his class. Williams just skied one up to mid-off. Ringer B and Halden then moved the score along nicely (and Earl who was called upon to run for Ringer B) and both reached 25 and retired. Earl hit his first ball for his customary 6, he then slowed down a little (6.1..6W) until given out LBW by Simmons much to Earl’s rather obvious disgust.

Ringer A struggled with the bat and barely troubled the scorers which gave Webb his chance to take some revenge and he promptly did (the flat 6 being a highlight) before falling in the increasing gloom to their one quick.

McEvoy nurdled (and needed a runner – Earl again) but was clearly hampered by his injury whilst Thomas got one away before falling cheaply. Burton sought a suicidal third run and was out by a distance.

Pestell (a welcome return to the team) obeyed team orders to the letter “hit out or get out” and hit out first ball and was out second whilst Simmons gave it some unexpected tap with two fine fours to open his account.

The match was finely balanced by this stage and, with the penultimate over being bowled by their one quick, 16 runs were needed for the victory. By this stage Halden was back in the fray and some fine scampering by him and Simmons saw 8 of that over leaving 8 runs needed of the last.

King Sturge and juggled their bowlers poorly and so a lad who had not bowled all evening was called upon to bowl the final over. Halden cracked the first ball for 2 (6 off 5) but fell to the next ball as he could not see it in the dark and that brought Ringer B back to the fray (6 off 4). Two singles (4 off 2) A dot ball (4 off 1). The tension was high could Ringer B add to his count of 3 boundaries? Could the bowler produce something special? Sadly for CW the answers were no and yes with just a leg bye coming and the match lost by 2 runs.

A fine match played in excellent weather and similar spirit and a heartbreaking loss.

Man of the match this week is a difficult one with some good performances from a number, Halden’s glorious batting, Thomas’s controlled bowling, Earl’s wickets and glorious 6s, Webb’s spirited response with the bat, Ringer B’s lusty blows or Williams’s fine glove work (spot the odd one out) but in the end has to go to Halden for the most sumptuous cover drive to have graced a CW game in a long time.