g11_11jul06_tintern

COMPOSED A FEW MILES ABOVE TINTERN ABBEY, ON
REVISITING THE BANKS OF THE WYE DURING A TOUR. JULY
13, 1798

FIVE years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
The casuals moaning that I have yet to complete my
lines
composed a few months after the event whilst I
contemplate
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur.
Once again do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more
deep seclusion; and connect the landscape with the
quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view
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These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,
Which at this end of cricket season, with their
unripe fruits, oooh missus,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses. Once again I sit at my laptop
and attempt amongst

These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild to pen my simple match
report:
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods,
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Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone. Smitts.

These beauteous forms,the Casuals in full flow
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, Andy F, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
as does Furnham jr upon his sweat soaked bed,
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration:--feelings too
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Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence, unlike the
umpires
All too often have

But all that aside, I will try to recall the tragic
events of that hot day and finish the fucking report.
First of all a little background. The Cazh were all
excited at the prospect of a beautiful day out in the
splendid surroundings of Tintern abbey; also at the
prospect of playing a game with neither Stephens in
the side, a rare and mythic occurrence… would the
walls come tumbling down without their spectral
presence, as the ravens so endanger the tower of
London if ever they desert their natural resting
place? Read on…

As you will already know I’m sure, the Cistercian
abbey of Tintern is one of the greatest monastic ruins
of Wales. It was only the second Cistercian foundation
in Britain, and the first in Wales, and was founded on
9 May 1131 by Walter de Clare, lord of Chepstow. It
soon prospered, thanks to endowments of land in Gwent
and Gloucestershire, and buildings were added and
updated in every century until its dissolution in
1536. However, it was never very large and important,
and its history was relatively uneventful, unlike the
casuals, who are very large…

We assembled in the pleasant surrounds a mighty team –
JF, Thrush, spitty, self, cough, madge, Teshtickle,
fat boy slim, Winky, H.L.A.Horse,and the dough boy
himself. Plus mascot.

I have no idea how the pre-match banter went as I
spent the entire time setting up camp for small boy
with an armoury of assorted toys, tents and sporting
goods. Suddenly we were in the field, I’m presuming
after madge lost the toss. What am I talking about, of
course he did.

By the way, it was hot. Not really sticky hot, just
peel the skin straight off dry hot.

Tintern was always closely associated with the lords
of Chepstow, who were often generous benefactors, and
today was to prove no exception. The most generous was
Roger Bigod III, grandson of Marshal's daughter Maud;
his monumental undertaking was the rebuilding of the
church in the late 13th century. In gratitude the
abbey put his coat of arms in the glass of its east
window. It is the ruins of Roger's church which
dominate the site today, or at least It would if it
weren’t for the pub and ice cream shop which obviously
take precedence for the assembled porkers.
Due to a lack of record keeping by the oppo -the
rather pretentiously named “TINTERN”- I will have to
be vague about our bowling (also cos I can’t remember
yesterday, let alone June).

Davies their No.2 was bowled by Hood early on for a
DUCK after a partnership of only ONE – great start.
Evans No.3 quickly followed the same way for only four
(total 9 on the board)… soon to be joined by A.Hayward
No.4 for a DUCK after Ellis (No.1) had pushed the
score to 19. Three to Andy Hood Hood Hood and that was
enough for him, ending on
5 overs, 3 mdns, 5 runs and those three well bowled
wickets.

A.N.Other Hayward (‘s’ this time) came in at No.5 and
soon went again, this time giving Fat Boy Slim dan
Shagger Lewis a bit of relief at the other end, if you
see what I mean. Fourth wicket to fall scored only two
for a collective total of 22. shags for all his effort
did fuck all else ending on 5 overs, no mdns, 19 runs
for one wicket. Well done anyway Danny boy.

By now we are around the tenth over, (26 fer four) so
its all a bit casual so far. Not exactly enthralling,
so thank god the two-f’the-price-of-one chuckle
brothers hove in to view, temporarily blocking the sun
but ensuring at least that the casual empire would
remain intact. YES, Mark n’ Paul, looking a little
like their idols Ant n’ Dec (well, they were a long
way off in the distance), appeared on the boundary.
They had promised their Mum a pleasant day out
sight-seeing but really they were going to watch a
little cricket, have a pie and an ice cream and then
drag her home to cook them a ‘slap up feed’ as Billy
Bunter (another idol) would have put it. Rumour has it
that Mark had her peeling vegetables in the back of
the car on the way home whilst Paul provided
encouragement by reading from an assortment of cookery
books his brother happened to have to hand!

Meanwhile, in between watching my son disappear every
five minutes I was as enthralled as everyone else in
this tense and exciting game . . .

The fifth wicket was the elusive opener Ellis who
eeked out another 8 overs before falling to the
inevitable dough ball. Well done Dave, ably supported
by Dan who took the catch, probably way out on the
boundary- who knows?. Ellis top scored on 29.
Dave the destroyer wasn’t finished scything through
the oppo and rapidly stole another wicket, No.6
Bailey, a mere six overs and 24 runs later.
Scintillating stuff readers. Mr Bailey had very
quickly got himself 23 before edging to Simon gough
(it says here, but these records are notoriously
inaccurate…). You’ll be pleased to know I cannot
describe all of dave’s eight overs, suffice to say
that he got 2 mdns, for 26 runs and those 2 wkts.
Splendid display.

No.7 Bennet run out for 11, no record of the culprits
(answers on a postcard pleeeeeaaaase) on over 26, 75
runs on board. No.9 S.Taylor, 5 runs, also fell to the
sharp fielding for a Run Out (or maybe he was some ol’
duffer who couldn’t run and was stitched up like a
kipper by his idiot batting partner? It can happen…)

Now, I think by this point we were facing the kids,
cos the one thing I do remember is a conversation with
the skipper wherein I agreed not to get the little one
out, as he looked smaller than Brychan. Despite my
softest of dolly balls (or perhaps because of) No.8
J.Taylor(12 runs) skied one to the short boundary
within the sights of pie patrol officer Furnham snr
who duly swallowed it.

Teshtickle grabbed the final wicket, bowling No.10
Williams for 3, leaving Bristow (of cartoon fame) not
out for 0.

With 11 extras the tintern total was 101 all out in
32.1 overs

BOWLER OVERS/MDS/RUNS/WKTS

HOOD 5/3/5/3
LEWIS 5/-/19/1
DAIN 8/2/22/0 sorry Ed, couldn’t think of owt
notable to say, but well done!
THOMAS 8/2/26/2
HIRANI 3.1/-/13/1
O’REILLY 3/-/12/1

And so to Tea. Pleasant enough, but with the sun still
beating down it was hard to relax, although we made a
concerted effort… whilst contemplating the bard of
course

An appetite; a feeling and a love,

   That had no need of a remoter charm,
   By thought supplied, nor any interest
   Unborrowed from the eye.--That time is past,
   And all its aching joys are now no more,
   And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
   Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur, other gifts
   Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
   Abundant recompence.

Yep, the tea more than made up for the rather dullish
1st half

And so to bat. Tintern's crowning glory, its great
church, was built between 1269 and 1301. It stands
today much as it did then, apart from it's lack of a
roof, window glass and internal divisions. Just as the
Casuals remain a fine cricket team, apart from it's
lack of any cricketers. Needless to say this did not
deter us from the task of battering this child
friendly oppo and in went the big guns to open (well,
JF is quite big, isn’t he?)

After a couple of opening maidens JF and Kim Swain
started to score, setting up a mighty partnership of
70 before Fatty Furnham had a heart attack and died on
his stumps… oh no, my mistake, it was a rare LBW
against the big one, who with only 3 fours worked hard
for his total of 29 and deserved the sit down.

In which the heavy and the weary weight
   Of all this unintelligible world,

   Is lightened

The bowler was S. Hayward. Whose finger went up is
not recorded, but it might have been Tesh, desperate
for a change of scenery after 20 overs. Swain was
bereft at losing his partner and followed swiftly in
the next, having smite a mighty 35 with four 4’s and a
5! He too was given the finger for leg before in what
was becoming a fashionable trend, the umpire taking
charge of affairs for himself. Bowler M.evans, by the
way. This allowed Smith and O’Reilly a go, champing at
the bit as they were (though neither will admit to
heckling the umpire to “get yer finger out” shortly
before). Smitty quickly put on 14, including two 4’s,
before following the fashion and taking the finger
himself –LBW to L.Bristow, (shooould really insert
‘Bowler hat’ joke here, for all readers of the evening
standard passim, but can’t think of one and you
wouldn’t get it anyway zzz…zzz…). Three to the
umpires...

(Although the batsmen were heard to say

…that neither evil tongues,
   Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
   Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
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   The dreary intercourse of daily life,
   Shall e'er prevail against us

But how wrong they were!)

By now we are in the 24th over, 3 for 92. Two fours
and two singles were O’Reilly’s lot as he fell ...
Bowled, of course, for ten, to “demon bowler”
Williams. This left scoff to scratch around for one
n/o and skipper to show the way out with 3 n/o to seal
our victory amongst the ruins…

Casuals 102 for 4wkts off 26.5 overs (92 score plus
ten extras)

And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,
   With many recognitions dim and faint,
   And somewhat of a sad perplexity,
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   The picture of the mind revives again:
   While here I stand, not only with the sense
   Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
   That in this moment there is life and food
   For future years.

And thank god for that!

So this is then the end of my report, celebrating the
occasion of my hundreth game. No doubt it will be
another hundred before my next one. Its been a
pleasure, more so than the game itself (at which Brych
got minor sunstroke and nearly threw up in andy Hoods
car on the way back). It only leaves me to thank mr
William Wordsworth for his help and end on these wise
words

And let the misty mountain-winds be free
   To blow against thee: and, in after years,
   When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
   Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind
   Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,
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   Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
   For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,
   If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
   Should be thy portion, with what healing
thoughts
   Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
   And these my exhortations!