Never, in the field of cricket conflict, have so many been recruited by so few

Sunday 11th June 2006, Old Millhillians CC, Pinner. St Anne's Allstars (?) beat Mighty Wanderers (?) by ? wickets.

By Tristan Haddow-Allen

It's been said that the challenge in winning the Falklands Conflict wasn't fighting the Argentines - that was relatively simple - it was assembling the task force and getting them to the South Atlantic. Everything conspired against them - the weather, the time of year, cut backs, commitments elsewhere - it was a herculean effort to get them all in the right place, at the right time, with one purpose in mind.

And so it was twenty-four years later, in Pinner. For as we all know, village cricket is very similar to international warfare.

A week before the game, Maxie announced he was off to Canada, I was to organise the game; it was financial disaster to cancel; and oh yes, I only had one player. Me.

Luckily Mozza and Devers came on board, but further appeals to the Allstars proved fruitless. I turned my attentions elsewhere and somehow got myself an XI - it's amazing what two hundred begging emails will get you - but then half of them dropped out, one having been reminded by his irate fiance he had to go to Dorset to arrange his wedding. I tried everyone I knew, but by Friday evening, after promising everyone, including the opposition, that the game would definitely go ahead, I had only seven players. But what a fine seven players they were.

In desperation, I resorted to something I promised myself I wouldn't do this time - randomly asking girls I know whether their boyfriends play cricket, had ever played cricket, knew anyone who played cricket, or if not, wouldn't this be an awfully good time to start? Would they perhaps like a game themselves even? I even tried recruiting my friend's eleven year old son. I felt dirty.

Some leads payed off and somehow we were up to nine on saturday evening (all it took was the promise of a night with Heather McCartney), and then - Heaven be praised - the Rain Men's game was cancelled at the last minute and two of them came on board. I'd done it - we were quorate. I bet Admiral Lord Lewin didn't have this much bloody trouble getting the Paras to turn up.

So to the game. We all turned up at the scenic, sunbaked, Old Millhillians ground in Pinner for the 1.30 start. Well, all except the four Canbashers stuck in traffic in Shepherd's Bush. Everyone seemed happy to start at two, everyone except the oppo captain that is, who won the toss and seemed desperately keen to start batting while my four main bowlers were miles away. Hmm....

In their absence, Mozza and I opened the bowling on their cement-hard pitch under a scorching, 90 degree, sun. I got prodigious swing but couldn't quite find the outside edge, and it was Mozza who did the damage, first getting one to leap at Charlton's gloves, looping to gully, and then sending down a deceptively straight one that Kelly played inside of. With the arrival of the rest of our team, I brought on two of the many debutants of the game - Simon Burns and Anthony Johnson. Burnsy sent down ten overs of his Makaya Ntini style pace: fast and accurate, unlucky only to get the one wicket of Tim Maddison - cartwheeling his off stump out of the ground.

AJ bowled well but without reward, and was replaced by the girl we'd all been waiting for - the Allstars' only county and England (juniors) player, and Wisden/cricinfo's finest, Jenny Thompson. With her very first ball as an Allstar, she sent down a perfect, pitched up, out-swinger, taking Wijey's outside edge, and dismissing him for a 23 which had comprised of some nice looking cuts and drives - bringing to the crease the superb Lars Smith, comfortably the Wanderers best player. After Mathias was run out, Smith and Page put on fifty for the sixth wicket, although Page contributed only two, pinned down by the mean accuracy of Thompson. Lars, always hard to contain, cut loose against Mike, who generously claimed to have been trying to give us something to chase.

I came back on for two overs and cleaned up Page and Smith with the first balls of each - Smith for an excellent 53, well caught behind by Devers, one of three he took in the game. Jenny came back to set about the tail, and at the other end, the big fella. When your seventh bowler is the 6'5" paceman Ben Burns, you know you're in a pretty strong position as a captain. In fact, I'm pretty sure this was the strongest bowling attack we've ever put out, and we didn't even get as far as using Russell Miller. Ben shook off the ubiquitous hangover, dismissed Montgomery, caught behind, and sent down some chin music until it seemed wise to take him off to prevent injury to the unsuspecting batsmen.

Wanderers, on an excellent batting pitch, were 8 down for 120 odd, and in the absence of a part time bowler to ease the pressure, I threw the ball to everyone's favourite lothario, the priapic Simon Rose, who last bowled to Harold MacMillan in a schools match. It went for an amusing, but slightly under par, 26, which, after Thompson clean bowled Stephen Tjasinic, helped them to an eventual total of 172-9, from 47 searingly hot overs. Second top scorer Extras, on 37. Dissappointingly, all nine were proper wickets. Not one was from a St Anne's 'magic ball' - or slow full toss, as it's more commonly known.

We limped off to tea and put our heads under the cold tap, and then prepared for the run chase by looking for the bar and falling asleep in the shade. The classic Allstars prep. Again, the oppo's captain was very eager to start sometime before we were ready, and had his team on the pitch while we were half way through tea, and still wearing shorts. When we managed to drag ourselves back in to the sun, I opened up with Simon Rose, who grafted for eleven. I hammered a drive back at Tjasinic, unfortunately breaking a finger on his left hand, taking him off the field and bringing on an all spin attack, on the dry, worn, turning pitch.

Thompson came to the wicket, late for a dinner appointment, had carte blanche to hit out, and did so, scything her first ball through the covers. After a few nice shots, she was stumped off Smith, bringing the big fella to the crease. Ben Burns, famed for his six-or-out technique, surprised everyone by defending his first three balls before thrashing an excellent drive through extra cover. Neither of us was in a good state, from booze and sunstroke (some sort of hat type device would have been useful) and we were walking ones instead of running threes. I was quite happy to sit back and watch Ben thrash the bowling to all parts, sending fielders surrying for cover, as I sat back and idly wondered if I'd throw up or pass out. The highlight of the innings was definitely an over from their captain, Winter, who, incensed by Ben hitting him into the bushes over long on, bowled at us off a thirty five yard run, anger and aggression etched in his face - a la Allan Donald, although about 70 mph slower. Sadly it met with same results from both of us - pulled off the front foot into the trees at mid-wicket.

Ben was bowled soon after by Page for a crowd pleasing 51, giving Miller only a few overs to make his debut, and then, after Robin had been dismissed, in what turned out to be the last over of the match, after an unmemorable innings, I holed out to long on, well caught one handed by Lars. Mike came in and in his customary style hit his first two balls for four, bringing us to 174 and, after just thirty overs, a comfortable win - our second in succession.

We retired to the bar to drink ourselves silly. We were shattered and sunburnt and our creaking joints hurt, and only half of us got a bat. But as someone once said - war is hell.