Woodham Mortimer Cricket Club

The “Yipes” can be defined as the following: ‘The loss of fine motor skill in athletes’. But can this term be associated with our very own Ian Ball? Firstly, Ian is a batsman (despite his wicket tally showing 18 victims #whodidballypayoff?) And therefore, can batsman get the yipes? Should we class our Ball as some kind of strange yipes all-rounder? The term yipes also implies the ‘loss’ of something. Is it possible to lose a you’ve skill never had? Can we count the nudge for single down to fine-leg a skill? It’s a run I suppose, but what happens when they put three behind square? And does the yipes only apply to athletes? I’m not knocking Ball’s age, but he does start every conversation off with “during the war.” Of course I jest. Our Bally isn’t talking about the Second World War. He’s talking about the Boar War. I mean this fella is so old he has pants and socks older than me. Can you smell that, that’s called jealousy.

But a fine figure of a man our I-Ball is. The club’s second leading run scorer only behind D. Fannon. Ball has hit three marvellous centuries for the club, his highest 120* against Bluehouse (never heard of them either – must have been a pre-war game I think). If you scan your eyes across a cricket encyclopaedia (or just ask Manu) it/he will tell you how the fielding position ‘slip’ was named after our very own Bally, because whenever the ball would fly off the edge it would either ‘slip’ out of his hands, or he would slip over in the process trying to snatch a belter of a catch. But when he does take a screamer, my god. It’s like watching a Gazelle. A Gazelle that’s been shot a couple of times and half-eaten by a lion mind you, but a catch is a catch. Now in the winter of his cricket years Bally has taken up the role of the old wolf. The calm head of the 1’s. The satirical comment waiting behind the bat. The salt of the earth kind of guy, ready and waiting to supply sweets to the team like a dirty old man at a playground. Mind you, as dirty old men go our Bally ain’t half bad. Heart and teeth of gold. Has offered to give his bat to the British museum after he has hung up his boots. They just don’t make them like this anymore. 

Angus played his first game for Woodham Mortimer as a 9-year-old in a Sunday Friendly. The following year he scored 66 in a Sunday friendly. He has been a member of the Essex County squads from the age of 9 and is currently playing for the under 13 county side. He plays his under 13 cricket for Maldon and scored his first century for them in May 2019; 108 not out off 76 balls with 16 fours and 1 six. He recently took 5 wickets for Essex in a 40 over game v Norfolk in June 2019. Angus is half Australian on his fathers’ side and has already easily surpassed his fathers highest score. Angus currently plays in our friendly 20/20 side and any Sunday Friendlies he can make. This year as an under 13 he can make his full league debut and hopefully help the second eleven to finally gain promotion to div 6. He and his brother Freddie are regulars at the club particularly around tea time!!

Browny once told me that he was the club’s longest serving consecutive member, having started his glistening cricket career with the mighty Woodham Mortimer in the season of 2002, when I was just 8 years old and little Ribu was just a twinkle in Mrs Tripathi’s eye. I’ve never checked whether this fact is true or not, nor care much neither. But through the usual slurred words of Captain Brown I believe he meant to stress this as an achievement of sorts. Ha! 14 years of village cricket and still pony. “Give it up” they say to our Browny. But, with a bar as cheap as ours it’s very hard to cut ties, just like he finds it hard to cut a cricket ball, – so much so that Brown makes a weekly trip all the way down from Clapham just to drink from his favourite watering hole. If that’s not commitment then I don’t know what is. The club motto: ‘a drinking club with a cricket problem’, is the embodiment of Browny. He loves it so much that then he dies he wants to be reincarnated as a widget. Cracking idea that AB.

But this lad isn’t just a drinker. He’s a real sportsman too – someone in peak physical condition. Must be to win the ‘outstanding fielder of the year’ award on three separate occasions. Must be rigged mind you. Unfair to put anyone else at the club up against Browny when it comes to fielding. The maestro is a keen cover fielder, and regularly scares the batsman out of their wickets with those crazy eyes and gigantic belly button that looks as though it could transport you to another dimension. Something out of Stargate Atlantis. It’s so big I’ve seen him catch cricket balls inside it, not to mention those odd occasions when he uses it as a beer holder. But I’m getting off topic. Blooming terrific fielder. And quick too. Must of thought it was last orders or something. Has also been known to hold a bat when he wants too, and must be half decent after scoring over 3500 Woodham runs! I stress the half. But take no notice of my jibs because perhaps our favourite moment of Brown’s career finally came in late 2016, when after years of failing to hit 100 he finally reached his maiden century against Great Baddow. You just couldn’t write this fairy-tale. Long live Captain Brown, the patron saint of drunks and village cricketers. 

Don’t let the profile picture fool you. This chap is one of sophistication and charm, sporting his beloved trilby hat that compliments the twinkle in his eyes whenever he turns up for a match. No one is quite sure where our beloved Nick came from, and to this day I don’t believe we have bothered to ask. Rumour had it that he was caught sleeping in the containers one night by Nathan. Other rumours suggest that Nick is one of those forest people and after watching us through the trees for a few years he crept up to the clubhouse, stole some whites and made out to be a cricketer interested in joining. Wherever you have come from mi’lad, we are glad you have!

An ever faithful member of the club Nick is the mastermind behind the 400 new tea and coffee mugs we have stored up in various locations around the clubhouse. But that’s not the only contribution Mr Goode has made over the years. In a match against Leighton Orient in 2016 Nick hit his high score of 69* (ONE SHORT of a 70) – the cheeky chappy – Connor Hayman’s favourite number. After hitting the half-century, he retired to give the other players a game, blooming nice guy our Nick. But it’s a good job that Nick left his pads on because in the last over of the game, needing 6 runs to win, Nick found himself chucked back into the fight like one of his handbag throws. A deathly silence followed. Skipper Jeeves couldn’t look. Camera phones at the ready. Could he do it? Could he write himself into Woodham Mortimer folklore and hit a six of the last ball. It’s a good job the bowler gave him a half tracker because our dear Nick did just that, smacking the chap back past his head for maximum.

Legend has it that there must always be a ginger at Pheasant fortress, and with the chaps saying 'bon voyage' to Beefy Pietersen we said hello to a Mr James "Oh-Your-So-Fine-You're-So-Fine-You-Blow-My-Mind-Hey"-Mickley. Signed in the 2016 transfer window for £37.5m from who knows where, Mickers burst onto the WMCC scene like a Chewbacca straight out of hyperspace, although Chewbacca has less body hair. His outdoor debut saw James smash a classy 59* against against the old adversary, Tillingham CC, as he strolled to the crease, cheeky grin slapped across his mosh, whilst he dispatched former Ginger Con all around the venue, causing the young bowler, quite dismay as a roaring of "who the f*** is Connor Hayman?" filled the ground. 

After this snug little performance and a few more on Sundays he earned his first cap in the 1's at Eastwood, where rain unfortunately stopped play lucky for some of Eastwood's bowlers, who had heard of the myth that is Mickley and his slab of wood that love to knock the fluff out of leather.

But our young Jimbo has also show glimmers of other areas of expertise- and to date has the his first of many Woodham wickets as a bowler. No one is quite sure how he managed to burgle this little gem. But it is in the score book and that my friend's is what counts. The future, like this man's smashing head of hair, is certainly bright for both him and the club.