Points of note about Felix:

I first spoke to Tristan on the way to Newark for our first ever game in 2001. Asking him how he knew Maxie, I was a little surprised to hear the answer “he’s my brother”, as the two elder Haddow-Allen siblings certainly look – and act – very different. Thankfully for the Allstars, they didn’t inherit the same cricketing genes either.

The stats tell their own story. Mostly from the top of the order, Tristan had by 2006 hit nearly 3,000 runs, including 7 hundreds, in a one-man effort to make our batting look respectable – and that’s before we get onto his bowling. Regular opponents prize his wicket above all others – as immortalised in print in Zimmer Men, where Marcus Berkmann describes Maxie’s (alleged) tendency to “wail like a banshee” whenever Tristan fails to reach 50.

Though several efforts could qualify as his finest, the one that stands out in my mind was when I was the opposing captain, in an evening game against the Informals. Although chasing only a modest target, the late start and innumerable delays meant the light had practically gone by the Allstars’ turn to bat. While others could barely see the ball (so no change there), Tristan dispatched the bowling all over the place as he made over 80 out of the 100 runs scored (extras probably being the next top scorer. His prowess on the field isn’t always matched in other areas, though. After a game in Surbiton which featured the presence of the first (and probably only) Allstars groupies, Tristan spent most of the evening chatting up one of these delightful young ladies, only for Boves to sneak in and do the business when Tristan had fallen asleep.

Perhaps because no-one else would put up with it, Tristan regularly has the misfortune to room with his older brother on tour, frequently being called at silly hours of the morning to hear that Maxie’s fallen asleep on the grass verge outside or has got into a tired and emotional argument with the hotel management. He also regularly gets roped into making the tea for home games, a task he approaches as professionally as he does his cricket.

To satisfy his thirst for any cricketing action going, Tristan regularly guests for our opponents when the Allstars have a weekend off. Given that he could walk into most club sides in London, it begs the question – why does he put up with us? Perhaps the Haddow-Allens have a Corleone-esque family code of honour, and he’s terrified he might wake up one morning with a horse’s head beside him. But one thing is certain. We’d be stuffed without him. GD

There are few heroes in the world of village cricket, even fewer stars. None of the Flintoffs or Bothams for us. None of their sponsored cars or million pound autobiographies ghosted by a tabloid hack. No, the highlights for us are a good tea and a nice backdrop, the chance of scoring a quick thirty in front of your wife, and a few pints of fruity in a beer garden. However, amongst these dull rocks lies a Rose....

There is one true legend in this game, and his name is Simon. His fame spans the game like a colossus. Like Hector or Achilles he is recognised on the field of battle not by his face but his armour. Not for him, though, a Trojan breastplate and shield, but a pair of comedy polystyrene pads obtained via mail-order (not available in all good sports shops), calculated to strike mirth into the hearts of opposition bowlers across Southern England. His battle armour is replete with white helmet and grille, arm guard, chest guard, gloves, and an extraordinary pair of shorts with moulded thigh guards and box (only available by mail-order), and finally, two black strips under his eyes, bought (from the internet) after he'd seen them used in American Football.

Simon's legend is not generated by great deeds - not scoring great centuries or razing ancient city states (for he has done neither) - but by his manic dedication, his unfathomable zeal, for a game he didn't grow up with, and for which he has no apparent talent.

We first came across Simon in our second game. He was playing for the writer Marcus Berkmann's team, Rain Men, in Barnes, during a white squall. He had reached the age of 42 without ever having played the game but Marcus's desperation for players would prove too much for him. But he embarked on a course of self improvement. Every week he would hire coach, bowling machine and net at the Oval, toiling away, barely hitting a ball. He spent years getting any bit of practice he could, any game he could find, spending many thousands of pounds on kit and coaching, but never getting his average to rise above 2.4. On that cold, wet day in Barnes, Marcus condemned him to the fate of Sisyphus, spending eternity pushing a boulder up a mountain, but never reaching the top.

When one has reached that crushing point in life, that moment of absolute despair, one turns to the Allstars.

He came to us when one game a week for the Rain Men couldn't satisfy his lust, and when his talent for complete self obsession had driven Gloomy Bill Mathews to tell him to f*** off once too often. But for all Simon's quirks, or perhaps because of them, we love him, and he's a quintessential Allstar. We love that he brings more kit than the rest of the team put together, his love of the Swedish skittles game Kubb, his insistence on getting unwitting children to bowl at him for an hour before the game, and then scoring nought. We love his Lego hair. We love him buying champagne for the team to celebrate scoring twenty odd, when someone else had scored a hundred odd. We love that he's spent so much on coaching it now works out at a ratio of £20 per run scored. We love that a player can be known throughout Oxfordshire for his pads alone.

Simon's full psychosis is detailed in Marcus Berkmann's excellent Zimmer Men, which reads as less of a cricket book, and more of a psychiatric report, offered in mitigation at a future court appearance, for a crime he's yet to commit. There are none so zealous as the convert. Simon is a true Allstar. A one off. He has achieved what few men do - cricketing immortality. He is a legend.

Away from cricket, Simon is an author, journalist and broadcaster, and lives with his family in Southfields. THA

Canada has given us many things - Due South, seal clubbing, hydro-electric power, Chris Hipwell's wife Amy, and now the Allstars' smallest, not to mention nicest smelling, player.

Garreth introduced us to Cassandra in 2003 when he arranged a fixture with the team she runs, The Informals, a motley crew of hedonistic patent attorneys, whose drug fuelled rampages across the more scenic parts of Surrey are the thing of legend (and entirely the product of my imagination).

Being the cricketing whore that this author is, it wasn't long before I found my way into their ranks, and got to know her better. Few people approach life with such gusto. Turning her hand to virtually every sport, she almost single-handedly saves London's patent lawyers from obesity, running teams for cricket, soft-ball, touch rugby, et al. As well as her penchant for distance running, what's perhaps most surprising to learn about our pint-sized dynamo is her love, and talent for, violence. Earlier this year she became a black belt in karate, but this wasn't nearly enough to quench her thirst, so she took up kick boxing in her spare time. Her burly instructor paid for underestimating the diminutive killer at her first lesson with a broken nose. So finely tuned are her skills, in fact, she once nearly choked me whist giving me an affectionate hug. The fact I'd slipped my hand up her skirt was entirely coincidental.

Much like introducing a female room-mate into an all male flat, when I recruited her into the Allstars she brought a certain civility that had been missing. People were more polite and things suddenly smelt nicer. She made herself part of the team in her very first game, against our old foe The Gents, offering to help me make the tea (something my brother Felix, who lives in the same house as me, has never offered to do), giving her all on the pitch, and then excelling herself in the pub afterwards, bringing along two highly entertaining young women (something we're sadly lacking), 50% of whom were absolutely beautiful. She knocked back pints of fruity and endured an hour of Sanjay accusing her of being rubbish and why girls shouldn't play men's sports, before shutting him up.

Much like our beloved Chris Hipwell (blessed be his name) she's wasted no time in becoming an integral and much loved member of our team, on and off the pitch. Making teas, helping out with the festival, organising the awards dinner, she's one of our finest. For me, her finest moment was nipping off from an Informals game, with perfect timing, and coming back five minutes later with thirty-six cans of finest Danish lager. That's something you just can't teach. She may prance around the pitch in cute pink hats and frilly skirts, but she's more a man than we'll ever be. Proud to be an Allstar.

In real life, Cassandra is another of our many patent attorneys, and lives with boyfriend David in Tower Hamlets. THA

There's long been a rumour in the Allstars, luckily never explored in the media, that one of our players has a thing for ten year old girls. We know who the smart money was on, but it turns out it was Gus, our eleven year old bowling machine (phew!!)

Graduating to full membership of the team in 2006, he turned in a string of excellent performances, the finest of which was bowling us to victory in our very tight win over A Few Good Men. He also produced a spell of astonishing accuracy and discipline which underpinned our nine wicket victory over New Barbarian Weasels.

As soon as he hits puberty, we're looking forward to introducing Gus to the Mount Gay, and phrases such as 'landing pads'. In former days, Terrett might have looked to take him on as his new wing-man, as he has such lovely hair.

Gus attends school in Dulwich, and lives in Wandsworth with his family, who include his father Tony, anothe regular Allstar, and their splendid dog Luca. In his spare time he likes conkers and Sunny Delight. THA

Roger’s life would have already killed us mortals if we’d had to undergo his trials and it’s a credit to his constitution that he’s still with us. The Allstars are honoured to have such a revered England all rounder and only Jonesy can realistically hope to match Roger’s 20 years’ service to the twin vices of drinking and smoking.

No one really knows his age or much about his early life. It is widely speculated that it was his parents who spotted his potential and developed it through appearances in a succession of Guy Richie films. From this he perfected a passion for snooker, drinking and smoking that has amazed the medical establishment to this day.

His cricket is generally confined to scoring or umpiring although on the rare occasions when he does take to the field he has proven his ability to hold a bat and has a bowling action synonymous with the Allstars: offlegspin, a technique whereby the forces applied by the wrist is in both directions, with one action perfectly offsetting that of the other. While rarely bamboozling opposing batsmen, it has an economy of movement about it that suits him and the likes of FAB Dyer and the Skipper, allowing them to kid you that it ‘only needs to move a bat’s width’ for them to take a wicket.

Roger can be relied upon to be on any trip going, as he is ostracised in Earlsfield for his associations with the Bushman. This makes him a natural selection for any tour, although not always with happy consequences. 2003 saw PikeyAir mysteriously ‘lose’ his entire luggage somewhere between Stansted and Newquay. Roger is understandably aggrieved whenever he sees a drunken Michael O’Leary in an interview flaunting the contents of his holdall that day: his cricket whites, his ‘missing’ 70 double-packs of B&H and his treasured copy of that classic fantasy Spurs’ glory years.

He lists his interests as a cure for cancer and televised sport. His hobbies include crosswords, taking Irish casinos to the cleaners and coughing. JJ

People often ask, "Where would we be without Maxie?" Responses vary but tend to include "in the pub enjoying warm beer", in bed with a woman twice my age", "having a w***" or even "showing a celebrity chef a good time". Luckily he doesn't take offence at these jibes and is quite prepared to take all of the grief and do all of the admin associated with getting nine idiots and his brother on to a cricket pitch. The honest answer to the earlier question is that without him we'd all be bored househusbands devoid of all life and distractions during April-September. We owe Maxie a debt of gratitude for his continued toleration of behaviour that, at times, would make '1,000 grans a week' Rooney look like cherub.

Maxie himself is not without 'a past' and no balanced assessment of his character should overlook the darker episodes in his life. From Cardiff to York, and domestic arrangements at 456a, he leaves chaos in his wake and gets into compromising situations with small Turkish men. He also has a strong track record in doomed relationships; his sole conquest on tour had seen better days and could be mistaken for a walk-on part in the Rocky Horror Show.

In common with other members of the team, he is employed as a producer in the radio industry. No one is really sure what this involves but mid-off does seem to field more phone calls from second-rate former politicians than drives from second-rate batsmen. A genuine professional, it is alleged that he once committed coitus interruptus in order to take a call and is always looking to form close working relationships with his colleagues, such as Edwina Currie. His career achievements include having not being sacked by Kelvin McKenzie and never having worked for the BBC.

As a cricketer and an Oxford man he has all that is required of an umpire or scorer with an encyclopaedic knowledge of rules and past matches. Unfortunately he is rather let down in the less cerebral areas of batting, bowling, calling, running and fielding. In this respect he leads by example and it's fortunate that we all have such high regard for our captain's Pontingesque decision-making. The hallmark of Maxie's captaincy is to make sure everyone, especially the opposition, enjoys the game. As the match unfolds and his own team-mates show apparent dismay at his requests (see KRWH for example below), you can see the complacency and overconfidence sneaking in to the opposition, such that they only reach 350 off their allotted 20. After this it's just a simple matter of overseeing an embarrassing batting collapse and running himself out so that we can all get down the pub to do what comes naturally. In Maxie's case this means drinking two pints of Stella, losing his personal belongings and falling asleep on public transport.

When not leading his gladiators into combat Maxie enjoys having tantrums over salt of the earth types, capturing the Zeitgeist, DJing at weddings and middle names. JJ

Though rarely seen in an Allstars shirt these days, Duncan merits his place in the club pantheon for his crucial role during the early development of the side in Oxford. As one of the few players with anything approaching sporting ability, he opened both the batting and the bowling in our debut game at Botley Park, and scored the first Allstars runs - hitting a 6 and a 4 before being the first of what would become a fine Allstars tradition, the comedy run out. In the rematches the following year he was once again the mainstay of the batting with a couple of useful knocks to make our scores look respectable.

When the Allstars reformed in 2001, Dunx was quick to get involved, selflessly fielding fine leg at both ends on his (second) debut against Priory Ruins before relaunching his batting career in less auspicious circumstances with a duck. Since then, injuries, overseas travel and appearances on the Jerry Springer show have restricted his appearances, though he remains a committed supporter of the side.

Outside cricket, Dunx is a website and IT engineer, using his skills to build the code for this site and design the Allstars crest. He has worked for such luminaries as Chris Evans, and supports an unmentionable football team. He is perhaps best known, however, for his fascination with the mushroom, having devised a whole host of characters based on the humble fungi. Though the inital book deal fell through, Bloomsbury inexplicably preferring some far-fetched story about a bunch of schoolboy wizards, stardom cannot be far away. GD

It's fair to say cricket isn't Chris's number one priority. Chris is one of the few Allstars to excel at another (or, for that matter, any) sport, having devoted most of his life to sailing round various stretches of water in and around Europe, picking up an impressive number of titles along the way. He combines this very neatly with his job at UK Sport, doling out Lottery money to Olympic hopefuls and providing friends with updates on the Test match score.

In spite of all this, Chris has been an Allstars stalwart for a decade, right from the very beginning of the team at Oxford, and manages to fit a remarkable number of games around his nautical commitments. How he became a wicket-keeper is lost in the mist of time - at 6'4" he must be one of the tallest keepers around - but he throws himself around athletically and catches most of the edges that come his way. His batting has also improved over the years - he can be a dangerous hitter down the order.

Undoubtedly Chris's finest Allstars moments have been on tour. On our debut tour to Newquay, having got into a fight with Tristan on the Friday evening which almost led to our premier batsman being pushed off a cliff, and spent most of the following day asleep, he woke up in time to snaffle a record five catches behind the stumps as we stormed to a famous victory against Trengilly Wartha. Fittingly Chris was there again in 2005 as the Allstars toured his second home of Menorca, where as a sailing instructor he has passed on the delights of wind and wave to a host of punters, not to mention meeting his lovely lady Karen.

Away from the cricket pitch and the water, Chris lives at Allstars HQ in Barnes and is a long-suffering Wolves supporter. GD

James Terrett has one characteristic which is unusual in an Allstar: great ease in the company of the fairer sex. To some this makes his inability to hold down a girlfriend all the more surprising. Maybe he just gets bored - or following his hunter instinct loves only the thrill of the chase and the kill, rather than anything more long-term (and the risk of indigestion or an attack of the runs?) Most of James's finest Allstar moments concern his lothario qualities, such as the time he pulled Cleopatra in Newquay. Others may recall the incident with the girl in the kebab shop who made the improbable claim that she had never visited one (a kebab shop) before. Fortunately for her James knows a thing or two about fastfood menus and was able to advise her about where she could get a good portion.

Possibly his finest conquest was in a bush at a party held at Allstars HQ, which produced his 'Bushman' tag. The demure victim later risked losing her driving licence in order to make sure that she got home to her own bed. The aborted mini-tour to York in 2004 also produced a classic when a lot of good work was undone by one blind pass. All-in-all, James does very well for himself, something of an achievement given his slightly stunted frame.

A second characteristic which makes James an unusual Allstar is being one of the few players with some fielding ability - that is, he can catch, and occasionally run and throw the ball. Luckily most Allstars are not of a jealous disposition so this is usually welcomed as it saves them from having to chase the sodding thing instead themselves. It's a little unfortunate that an ability to catch does not translate into a higher batting average, although he did manage double figures in 2004.

James displays a huge vocabulary and is invariably regarded as something of a lexicographer by most Allstars except Roger, who he is inclined to turn to in moments of crossword hell. Few who come into contact with James ever depart from the experience without adopting a number of key phrases into their vernacular. A popular misconception is that the classificational aspects of Viz's Profanosaurus are handled by Roger Melly - whereas it was in fact James who defined the correct meaning of the terms 'dancefloor', 'landing pads', 'vinegar strokes' and 'numbers man' many years in advance of the FTV anchorman.

Educationally, James is one of the club's many products of Morse University (Brentford Accountancy Campus), having graduated with an unusual degree of self-respect. He now works for a major telecoms provider and is exceptional at lunch. He lives in Earlsfield and lists his interests as 'daughters' and 'girly sport', something he plays during the winter in order to 'keep in touch with his feminine side'. It has been speculated that he complements this by having curly handwriting and dotting every 'i' he writes with a heart. JJ

My introduction to Paul was startling to say the least. Walking into an Irish pub in Birmingham, within earshot of hard-core Republican doormen who'd probably served time at Her Majesty's pleasure, he apologised for his (to become customary) lateness but claimed "some f***ing mick had given him the wrong directions". He was later to become flat-mates with me and Chris Gould, and it transpired he was a cricketer with an impressive-sounding record in league and indoor cricket in Brum, playing against county- and even international-standard opposition. I figured he'd be a handy addition to the nascent Allstars.

Paul quickly made his mark on the team. On debut against Rain Men at Regent's Park, he became the first Allstar to take a five-for, including a hat-trick (only a dropped catch at short-leg prevented him taking four-in-four). In his next game, against Brodies, we were treated to the surprising sight of combining his umpiring duties with reading a book.

Since then Paul has become a regular in the Allstars team, an impressive feat considering he lives as far away as Chelmsford. One of the quickest bowlers in the Allstars armoury, he gives few runs away and is capable of useful changes of pace. He is also more than handy with the bat, playing a fine knock of 30* to guide the Allstars to victory against Stumps in September 2004, despite batting with a runner. His ability on the field is matched only by his reputation for lateness, the team frequently starting with 10 men, and his disappearing tricks, most notably against the Gents when, on his turn to bat, he was 3 miles away in Kingston looking for cricket spikes.

Anyone who knows Jason, knows that above all things, he's a big game player. Indeed, he treats cricket with the contempt it deserves, reserving his first love for rugby union and, to a lesser extent, accountancy and erotica. It is fair to say that his appearances on the pitch for the Allstars have been limited and invariably the subject of mirth.

Episodes best remembered by many include the time on tour in Cornwall when it seemed as if the Hell's Angels had provided the Allstars with a ringer, or in the Isle of Wight, when the team thought that a whale had beached on the island, such was the pained reaction of Jason to a ball taken midriff*.

Arguably, though, the occasion for which his cricket is best remembered the last ditch stand alongside 'short arms' Clements against Barnes Common CC, which enabled us to snatch a draw from the jaws of defeat. Dogged and determined, Jason recalled the spirit of the Dunkirk to hold off four medium paced deliveries and then pitch anchor at the non-striker's end for the final over, leaving us on 125-9. Legendary stuff!

If the Allstars were a village side, it is assumed that Jason would perform the role of pub landlord, as befits a man of his girth and consumption of the black stuff. However, this is the Allstars, and without the ownership of a pub, Jason instead funds his lifestyle on the back of his position as club treasurer. In this role, his chief responsibility is telling Maxie that we can't afford a new box let alone the extravagance of a bat. He takes to his duties like a pig in shit, building on the experience of 10 years as a finance whiz in the computer industry.

Jason is a gift to the aligned pursuits of drinking and impassioned swearing. It's rumoured that Guinness only countenanced the closure of its Park Royal complex after Jason gave his consent, and that he is ASBOed from being within 200 yards of primary school grounds lest his forthright opinions reach the ears of innocents. Other Allstars trying to rival Jason's bad-boy rep have taken the drastic step of appealling to the authorities to have their names added to the Sex Offenders Register.

When not indulging in life's rich tapestry, Jason resides at Allstars HQ, is indiscreet with email, plays at prop for Old Actionians RFC, and is an accountant with IT firm Morse. JJ

* He later stressed that it was far worse than anything he had ever experienced at his weekly S&M meeting, exceeding the time his anus had congressed with a hot poker.

If there was an award for the person who has brought the most players into the side, it would surely go to Adam 'Clem' Clements. Using his extensive network of contacts in the IT industry and academia, 'Short Arms' is in one way or another responsible for supplying over half of the team's players in most games. It is undoubtably his charisma that has drawn so many to the club, together with his unrivalled capabilities in the field of team merchandising. So accommodating is he at all times to the emotional needs of his teammates, that an act of famed magnanimity in the summer of 2003 gave rise to his newest and hardest-earned nickname - Five Cocks.

Of his cricket, Clem is one of the few Allstars with some ability with the bat and ball. Although his appearances in the 2004 season were rare, he ranked fourth on the batting averages and sixteenth in the bowling, something that is certain to be worked upon next season. His finest hour was surely picking up one of the two Allstars hat-tricks, on tour in Newquay in 2002. It is also alleged that he once scored a 50 with the bat, although I am reliably informed that the opposition fielding that day was so inept that it made some suspect that we were playing 11 Blunketts.

Clem is known to ladies of all kinds and is a legend in the world of haircare - indeed his annual spend on hair gel is known to pay for the holidays of the L'Oreal family. This attention to detail makes him understandably choosy in the company of ladies, and his absolute no-nos are a lack of effort with the make-up, scraped back hair and fleeces. If Adam ever describes you as 'council' you can be certain that you are unlikely to be in his top ten.

Away from the cricket field and the bedroom, Clem indulges in his passion for Brentford and his proud role as an influential shareholder in Watford FC. Clem is also the only Allstar to hold an MBA, awarded in 2004 for his insightful dissertation on the leadership qualities displayed by Maxie. He was able to write over 200,000 words on the basis of a series of searching and rather booze fuelled interviews with several members of the squad. Portraying our skipper as a modern day Shackleton, Clem was able to show that despite obvious character flaws (such as a penchant for middle names, temper tantrums and rudeness to Cornish hotel staff) he sometimes manages to organise a pitch, tea and 11 men to play.

Like Jason, Adam too works for Morse, and lives with wife Lara in Hitchin, Hertfordshire. He lists his interests as Anna Friel's the Tribe and creating shit Fantasy League teams. JJ