Watching Cricket

I cycled out to Killinghall to watch the lads play their next weekend fixture, the weather warm and sticky with the threat of thunderstorms in the afternoon. As it turned out there was quite a bit of mizzle but barely any rain. We had no interruptions to what proved to be a high intensity game of cricket against a good team who were second in the table before today. I do love watching competitive cricket, as do these three men. They barely moved all afternoon. Of course, it helps when your son is in the form of his life! I was sitting on a bench to the side of these three long-time supporters of the local side. The one furthest from the camera is Tony Clarkson who played junior cricket here in the fifties and went on to open for Yorkshire. He had so much experience and knowledge of the game, and was a little critical of his own team's tactics today. Forrest was reluctant to write another report in which he took a starring role, so the mantle was taken up by Alex Miller and Captain Tatts, who both took it upon themselves to write up what was a terrific match.

Killinghall  191-9 (Forrest 2-64). Ben Rhydding 193-7 (Forrest 81)

Scorecard

From Alex …

RHYDDING GO SHAKESPEAREAN AS GLOW-UP SHINES BRIGHT

The unpredictability of life’s quest can be charted in an afternoon’s sport. Fierce comradeship sits a mere shoulder’s width from a struggle of human quarrel Montague and Capulet in spirit. In the space of 90 minutes or 90 overs, dreams can be built or bulldozed, the joy and pain of a person’s week, month or year distilled into a few short battles fought out on a village green. Each fixture provides a tapestry of emotion few other cultures can touch upon.

All this makes sportswriting not only a privilege, but a responsibility. And so it is with deep regret that we report to our valued readers that your regular correspondent refused the opportunity to take up the chronicling Ben Rhydding First XI’s three-wicket win at Killinghall on the basis that ‘it’s getting boring writing about myself scoring runs every week.’

Indeed, the bumpy road that is life can be charted in the cricket career of one Forrest Hamilton. Blessed with a gentle and modest nature, his is a talent that for many years was expertly hidden from the spotlight; from opponents, teammates and indeed online statistics. For so long a part-time spin bowler thrown up and down the floors of a batting line-up, his experience of life in the top order was vast but - by his own admission - was largely built on the fact he gave his former captain many lifts.

The Kraken Wakes. What the Nidderdale League has seen in recent weeks is a glow-up of immeasurable glory. Chest-out and bristling, Hamilton sits atop the First Division run table after nine innings having plundered two centuries and three half-centuries, the most recent of which saw 81 runs taken from 73 balls to provide the backbone of a win that took the premiers to their fifth win of the campaign.

After the first few overs of the clash, which saw Ben Rhydding put into the field after captain Sam Tattersall lost his seventh league toss in succession, you’d have been forgiven for thinking a successful chase would have been an all-timer. A firm pitch on a small and speedy outfield saw Killinghall offer a brisk start before savvy tactical changes from Tattersall and an angry Roam Hamilton clawed back some momentum.

Robbie Miller was inexplicably called into the attack at first change and to his credit broke the opening partnership with the score at 37, turning the ball round to deliver a rasping in-swinger and snare an LBW to the shock of all present. Extra credits were awarded for explaining his methods to a confused victim on his way back to the pavilion.

Some hours later Stuart Calderon was singled-out and commended on a fine spell by a Killinghall gentleman presumably blind to the sweaty, bearded genius displayed at the other end. It was a pace-off approach that not only dragged back the scoring rate but turned the course of the match in Ben Rhydding’s favour. Spin twins they cannot claim to be, Coutances Way is surely home to the league’s finest twirl pairing.

Calderon returned figures of 1-33 in his 10 overs, Alex Miller 4-33 from his 12. Glow-up Hamilton took the key wicket of Sam Halliday (73) with what is becoming a very useful top spinner in his contribution of 2-64. Killinghall - league champions as recently as 2022 - finished their innings with 191-9, a long way short of the total they had threatened at the outset and surely below par.

In Robbie Miller Ben Rhydding have re-signed a talented player not at all shy of playing his shots early doors. In Nidderdale cricket there appear to be a bevvy of opening bowlers elder in age and wily in approach. Something, invariably, has to give.

Thankfully the blessing of talent overcame the benefit of experience as the newly-crowned all-rounder took to the bowling of Andy Thompson much as he would a mid-innings lager. His 28 (22) was ended by a fine piece of bowling by the impressive Dan Atkinson but set the chase up with gusto, F Hamilton watching on from the other end, eagerly awaiting the ascension to alpha status off-field life has so cruelly kept out of reach.

If the season exploits of Hamilton have provided a glow-up, what of Arslan Nasir? Alongside his new favourite batting partner, the dependable number three showed patience and guile to accelerate through his innings and fall just short of back-to-back half-centuries with a well-made 44. The duo put on a match-winning partnership of 114 before Hamilton responded to excitable praise by throwing away a century with 41 to win. Nasir followed soon afterwards. And then everything went a bit mental.

Stumping shouts, accusations of AirPods being worn by empty-headed square-leg umpires, a batting collapse. The fixture grew tense, each moment of note raising Ben Rhydding nervousness and encouraging a dangerously refreshed home supporter to bleat loudly into the Harrogate air. I’m not saying he was showing signs of village idiocy, but a few hundred years ago they wouldn’t have let him milk a cow.

A wicket fell. Tattersall blocked. Another wicket fell. Tattersall blocked. Another? Tattersall poked to short cover. And then, with seven runs to get and the terse words of 11 Killinghall fielders bouncing around his brain with plenty of room to spare, in strode Charlie Hatton. A four, a six, job done but with no little drama. With Chris Maunsell two unbeaten at the other end, the Rhydding academy graduates absented the pitch with a belly full of points.

The result leaves Ben Rhydding in sixth place and for the first time this season with more ticks in the win column than in defeat. With Hamilton leading the charge, theirs is a top order formidable, with a bowling attack that knows how to go about its business.

Life is indeed a tapestry of fierce unpredictability, so often bound together by the passion of shared human achievement. Never more so, perhaps, than on a cricket field. Never more so than in a side such as Ben Rhydding First XI. These violent delights have violent ends? Should the other facets of their game rise, there is much to be achieved by this team in the remainder of the season.

From Sam …

Death. Taxes. Rhydding losing the toss.

That’s 7 in a row, a 0.78% probability, I next play in July, I haven’t won a league toss since April.

Anyway, no mindfucking this week, we were asked to field. Vibes were then low, the weather hot, the outfield fast, the boundaries small, Blears hungover, and Hatton was… well Hatton.

It looked set to be a long 45 overs as Roam and Biggie toiled away unsuccessfully. Enter Robbie Miller. While Alex was making complaints to his frankly genius captain about his brother being first change, Robbie was setting traps (and bowling wides). Away, away, away, in. Lbw, 1 down. Robbie even kind enough to explain to the departing batsman how he got him out.

From there on spin was the order of the day to bring us right back in to the game. Stu bowled exceptionally well. Yes Alex took 3 more wickets, had a better economy, and didn’t bowl any directly to mid off, but he received no such praise from the home support at the break. He took it in usual good grace. Forrest went at 6.4 an over (I’m only adding this to ward off Bradford League suitors).

So to the chase, 192 required. Robbie set off as Robbie does and got us off to a blistering start before departing for 28.

Note to the league: DO NOT waste chances against Forrest Bradman- run out chance missed. DO NOT waste chances against Forrest Charles Lara- dropped catch at cover. DO NOT waste chances against Forrest Tendulkar- dropped in the slips.

Amidst all their helpful fielding efforts, Fog and Biggie added another 100 partnership, cricketing them off and playing some frankly ridiculous shots along the way, even eliciting a Zinedine Zidane-esque reaction from our square leg umpire to one of Biggie’s glorious cover drives, and some unhealthy noises from Alex that weren’t really appropriately to be heard with children so close by. 

Now, the one thing we’ve enjoyed about div 1 cricket is that pretty much every game is well-fought, competitive, and close, and we didn’t feel like breaking that habit.

Fog - out for 81 trying to write cheques his baby arms cannot cash.
Biggie - out for 44 trying to bring up his 50 in one big blow.
Stu - out to one of the best catches I’ve ever seen on a cricket field, fair play
Skip - hearing murmurs of WW3, dug a bunker so deep he’d be safe from any nuclear attack, out
Blears - car crash of a day/week
Moist - fair to say his batteries had run out

151-1 became 184-7, and we were still 8 away. It needed a man with no fear, who doesn’t feel pressure (partly because he cannot process those feelings). Enter Charlie Hatton, finally he’d put a shirt on, finally taken his air pods out. Two fours (yes fours, protect the bowlers economy) and the game was over- that was a man in a rush to get to the Hollygarth. It’s a good job Blears and Moist were in no such rush….

19 points and we move ourselves into a tightly contested top 6. 2 on the spin. Pannal away next. Rhydding on the charge?