En-gal-lund part 3

After a whirlwind entry to the country, it was time to settle into the English culture and find some employment to prolong my stay but not before squeezing in a few more games of cricket. I was looking for work in pubs and clubs or retail which I had been doing for the previous couple of years on Australian soil but found them more elusive to come by than Osama bin laden.

My next game of mid week cricket, proved slightly better than the the first, I hit one decent on drive through midwicket before trying to launch the following delivery into the next postcode... sadly I only managed as far as mid on!! The oval we played at had a foul odour (the only thing that had stunk more up until that point was my cricket) that lingered across the ground, it wasnt until tea that I was informed a sewage plant was stationed near-by... not the ideal location for physical exertion. After tea I watched the oppositions over sea's player go about his work.... he only scored 40 odd but he was prepared to bat for extended periods and I realised I'd just been throwing my wicket away, a habit I'd had for a while. It was enough to inspire me to 'dig in' and be more patient next time.

The following game, I was up against the might of Chipstead in the President's day game...I had been given a spot in the visitor's side which normally comprises of ex-chippies, former international's and opposition who had built a rapport with this incredibly friendly cricketing village. I was keen to show them that I could play a bit and was better than my previous efforts and hoping to do it against rather than for them on this occasion.

The Chippies had a few handy players up there sleeve including a young buck playing for a spot in the Essex under 19's squad by the name of Chris Sterling or 'Sterlo' as he was affectionately known. He was a great kid who listened intently and we often talked cricket and I tried to impart some of my experience to date on to him (one theory I was throwing around at the time was 'owning the zone' but Ill go into that more later.) Anyway the 'chippers' won the toss and threw us into bat and I opened the innings, one of the more pleasant idiosyncrasies English grounds provide are tree's (normally only one large oak tree) which are allowed to grow in the outfield. Every club has thier own rules relating to thiers, some are dead ball, others are six on the full etc... so it's best to ask around before you get on to the pitch. So it was very pleasing to bring up my first runs on chipstead soil by cutting one into the outfield and watching it roll up the trunk of the great oak flourishing at backward point, picking up four bikkies along the way.

Unfortunately young 'Sterlo' got me soon after with a late outswinger which was his trademark nicking into the slips cordon, whilst being slightly annoyed I was happy to go to the young fella. One thing I was not doing was owning the zone.

Late in the Australian summer I had developed a strategy in conjunction with legendary westies left arm ortho Mark Hatton of protecting my stumps, as it is roughly 70% of batting. I drew an imaginery line about 6 inches outside the off stump and anything outside of that line I left alone, but anything within that line including on my pads marked 'my zone' and being in complete control of that area. It seemed to work in the last game of the season where I managed 79* against a very strong ANU first grade line up after I had struggled badly throughout the season against much weaker teams with a highest previous score of 36.

Lunch time was an incredible feast with many tales of Presidents day gone by.... one of the better ones was of a fast bowling chap who was invited to take part for the opposition for the day. One of the more experienced Chipstonians challenged the most dangerous of the 'oppo' to a drinking competition during the lunch interval. I could understand the young fella's thinking 'how much damage can you do over a 40 minute period!?'  Over the course of lunch they managed to get through 2 pints of lager and a couple of quick ports, those who have experienced the hard hitting fortified wine know it can pack a punch rivaling a youthful Mike Tyson. The big fast bowler made it out to the field, got through a couple over before feeling a bit dry and requested a jug of water at his quarters down at fine leg. The 'chippies' pounced quickly filling a huge jug (comparatively it must be able to handle three pints) with not only water but also six shots of vodka. Down at fine leg the thirsty trundler knocked back half the jug without blinking an eye, three balls later he polished off the rest, after his next over he was lay sprawled across the boundary line KO'd and unable to take part in the rest of the game.... Well played Chippies, well played!!

Back in my game, we had an Ex Kiwi international floating around in our side but at the age of 46 was well past his best. Still I was keen to impress and as I have a tendency to do, over thought things in the field and put in another embarrassing display... still it was hard not to enjoy a day like this one, the social side of cricket in England is incredible and something I wish could be replicated down under.

Off the field things were looking up, Menace had lined up an interview at his work for Mondial Assistance a company similar to the NRMA in Australia. How bad could it be listening to whining poms whinge incessantly about their poshed up cars breaking down!?

On the Monday we had a tournament called the Nutfield 6's, a great competition built around two of my favourite things slogging sixes and emptying pints.... sounded like my perfect day and the following week was the 25th anniversary of my date of birth!!

I was pumped for the 'Sixer's' comp and it would be the last day, before I started work (could be dangerous.... and was...) we made our way cracking a beer before we had a chance to crack the first ball of the day. Fielding after a couple of cans was difficult maintaining balance and co-ordination but batting was great. There obviously wasnt much time to build an innings so it was the norm to go after it straight away, whether it was the relaxation of the tinnies onboard or the fact there was very little pressure I managed to hit a few big sixes down the ground and over mid off, not my usual hitting zones but I enjoyed them immensely. Finishing runners up for the day, we proceeded to the bar and ordered a few Pimm's and lemonades, a charming concoction that went down refreshingly well... after one too many it was hometime and off to bed.

Now I dont reccomend starting your first day in a flash new job hungover but I reasoned 'how much can you learn on the first day!?' normally its a bit of orientation and ensuring you know where the lunch room and gent's are. I battled through the first day and week without too much trepidation. I was too busy looking forward to my first trip to London to catch up with my mate Dennis and brother in law for my birthday.



At the curry house for my Bday with Sterlo and a junior.



On the Thursday we headed for a curry with menace"s junior cricket side accompanied by their folks at a local establishment, this was the first time I'd fallen captive to the Indian cuisine. Photos were taken, birthday cake eaten and taste buds burnt to an inch of there existence.

The following day it was off to London town where I caught up with 'The Den', he was one of those friends I mightn't see for years at a time but when we did, we we're straight back where we left off. I remembered he also had a way with the ladies, as we made our way outside kings cross station he noticed an attractive girl in front he deliberately tripped her up, she turned up around sharply and he unleashed a disarming smile, apologized and promptly asked her what she was upto that night... (gee this bloke worked quickly).

Later I caught up with Michael Aspinall who was stopping over after captaining a flight with Qantas and we shared tea at a local pub had a brisk walk around the city before an early night as the next day was shaping to be a busy one...