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. 

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. 

                        

Family man, Cricketing all rounder and Colchester United fan

What do you get when you put Nutella on Salmon? Salmon-Ella. But what do you get when you put a speccy irritable wannabe village cricketer in the first team? Nothing, because our Olly don’t do first team. You can probably hear our Oliver before you see him. Known for having the largest mouth in the club, Olly spends 95% of his time at WM taking the piss out of anyone that breathes. I can’t think of anyone else at WM that I have genuinely thought “ah what a great guy” and “I wish he was on the other team the ****” in exactly the same match. Olly was previously captain of Margaretting before we signed him on a free a few years ago and rumour has it that everyone there got so f***** off with his antics they purposely folded the club to get away from him. If anybody at WMCC could fall into sh*t and come up smelling of roses it would be our Olly. But our very own Millhouse has as much success off the field at pulling than he does on the field pulling a ball. In the 2015 venture to Taunton Olly turned into a farmer one night and safely managed to capture a local pig. Such a nice chap our Olly. There loads of squealing that night - and the girl even managed a few sighs of disappointment, but that story (and video evidence see FB) is safe for another time. But in all seriousness, you can’t meet a nicer bloke than our Olly. Not only will he attempt to do an off-break, but he’ll do his best at leg spin as well. Doesn’t matter if you get hit for 6 Olli, it’s the effort that counts.

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.

We haven’t seen our Nick hit runs much since – ever prone to the injury, like the cut finger, or bumped knee he decides to use when stopping the ball – and the unfortunate case of shock he suffered upon hitting that same very six. We wish you a speedy return to Goode Nick.

Ah, Cameron. Where to start with this chap. The Sunday VC and 2^nd XI batsman is very Kevin & Perry-ish, constantly moody and answering questions in short grunts. But despite this aggressive persona Cameron is quite the comical rascal who likes nothing better than extracting the urine out of anyone within earshot. Just don’t get too close to this youngster’s spraying speech – similar to his erratic bowling. They don’t call him ‘monsoon’ for nothing. This youngster is an avid fan of grime (is that a music genre these days?) so much so that you would think our Cameron is from the hood. What is grime anyway? Does the Dengie have a hood? Don’t ask because Cam will tell that man ‘shut up!’, as you look on unsure. On the contrary Cam could not be further from the grime scene, with skin whiter than emulsion.

But Cameron is quite the cricket prodigy. At 16, after a morning of cartoon network and coco pops, he made his way down to Westcliff and hit his debut 50 for the club in poor conditions. It was a very wet day indeed and although the team urged Cameron to close his mouth he couldn’t quite contain his excitement and let out a quick cheer, opening the heavens and soaking everything, before returning to the incredible sulk. Yet Cameron doesn’t just cause headaches through his whimsical banter. He is also a headache for all captains as to where best to field. Where is the least place on the pitch that the ball could go? Often a captain has wondered about the only chap in the club that can manage to do a long barrier going forward instead of sideways. In a game against Benfleet in 2016 our Cameron, after the ball crashed towards him, managed to stop it with his foot – only for it to flick up, smack him on the chevy chase and roll away past him. You wouldn’t think it possible.

But despite his lispy demeanour, constant use of colourful language and questionable choice in trainers this kid is very much one for the future. Past that moody attitude our Cam has a heart of gold – so much so that he has extended an invitation to every member of the club to attend his upcoming birthday in December, where a magician will be presenting balloon animals and servings of Jelly & Ice cream will be provided. His mum has asked however that no sharp objects or stuff that could get stuck in a young child’s throat be sent as presents please. Thank you.  &a

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.  

Who looks at a baby and thinks “a great name for you would be Keith.” It just doesn’t happen in this century. So much so that the statistics for baby names in 2016 saw the name Keith drop down to the bottom three, along with Gary and Jimmy. Strange that. It would appear that we are living in an age where the word Keith could very well go extinct much like the Dinosaurs. The club’s resident Dinosaur however – Peggasaurous Mitchell -  isn’t going to go down without a fight. At the current standing our Peg is the club’s most capped player (481), a marvellous achievement for the codger. Sometimes doesn’t even need a Zimmer-frame. A hearing aid wouldn’t go amiss though, just so that he could hear us shouting “Don’t pitch it there Peg!” as the ball sails over the boundary ropes for six. Alas, the OAP can pitch it where he wants, because at 481 games he is also the clubs leading wicket taker (527 - since records began). A true club legend. Yes the Club’s chairman, who resembles a striking resemblance to Boris Johnson, is a rather loveable chap. Unless of course you’re George Verlander, who absolutely despises him. Against Purleigh in 2016, Verlander, taunted by Peg’s jibes at ‘little jog George’ managed to stop a ball on the boundary with his foot. Rising triumphantly Verlander yelled “how’d you like that” at the old Vet, momentarily catching Peg off guard. But all was over as quick as Flash could say ‘Fantastic!’, because with the very next ball the batsman creamed one at the old-timer stood waiting at mid-wicket, who caught it sweetly in the palm of his wrinkled hands, bringing a smile to his face as he retorted – “well how’d you like that!!!” Verlander, defeated. And so I conclude my arch nemesis profile. A fantastic gentleman and one of the greatest players to wear the pheasant cap. HS of 107*, wicket taking machine and can stop a ball when he wants too (but not when he is on the boundary eh Peg). Lover of all things cricket, metal-music (ask Rod & Smithe) and has recently put in a request for Francis to build a playground so the youngsters can have something to do at the club. Has promised not to urinate on it, though, watch this space.   

I remember meeting Sam like it was yesterday. It was way back in the year of 2011, when in a match against a close rival we found ourselves 1 down before the game had even started. We struggled all game in the field, and were dreading the next innings of batting when all of a sudden a car broke down outside the gates. Curious, we looked over, only to see a man appear clad in full batting attire. It was our Sam, who had unfortunately broken down on his way to a fancy dress party. He was going as a batsman, his son Joel in the seat next to him, dressed like a cricket stump. We called over to him to use our phone (we don’t have a phone aha!) and soon persuaded him to go in at number 7 and fill the gap. Since then Sam hasn’t looked back, and even dresses up like a batsman every week for the twos to carry on the sacred tradition. But of course I am joking – because it’s obvious the lad can bat. Cow corner has never received so many balls. But who cares if they’re our runs as even Sam Older has a WMCC half-century to his name Jack Preston!. Yet perhaps our Sam is much more known for his bowling. Hang on I’ve just seen that Sam also has a 5-wicket haul to his name. What an absolute farce, next you’ll be telling me Dave Glasson even has a Woodham Fiver over me. This cricket game is cruel. But with fantastic figures of 5-14 against a very strong 8-man Willow Herbs side (okay 9 men) I am glad that you’re on our side Sam! The 2’s all-rounder (can I call him that?) is a vital addition to our squad, and if Joel is half the player you are then quite the village cricketer he will become, which I believe is a compliment, maybe.      

Woodham Mortimer CC has seen some fantastic leg spinners come through its ranks during my time, Gavin Cook, Steve Richardson and Dan Karkocki to name but a few. But none match up in comparison to Sir John Woodrow. Sir John is like a vintage Aldi wine. Fruity, doesn’t go for much and only improves with age. It was only last week I saw Sir John playing an indoor match against Rayleigh – getting more turn on the tarmac than I ever thought possible. I felt sorry for the poor batsman. Trying to read John’s deliveries was like trying to tell which liquorice all-sort you was going to pick out of the bag. Unplayable bowler.  Never seen him been hit for six – although I’m sure he has been (he wouldn’t be a proper Woodham player if he hadn’t.) And an absolute pleasure to watch a spinner finally pitch a ball – take notes Ollie Glasson. Yes Sir John is something special. Turns it like a meal in a microwave, like a key in a lock. Once I remember Sir John telling me that he could turn toast back into bread – but he is getting on a bit now so don’t take everything he says as gospel. I mean the gent is nearly 227 years old. Oh wait, that’s wickets not age (he’s actually 127 years old). 227 wickets as a spinner eh. Not too shabby indeed. Sir John is also one of those players that can indeed hold a bat, with a respectable HS of 89 and three half-centuries for WMCC to his tally. A fabulous achievement from the elderly gentleman. I say elderly. More like ancient. Sir John should be in a museum by now along with Peggy. But you can’t tell him otherwise. Cricket’s in the DNA. Who knew those replacement metal hips could work such miracles. No wonder he is so talented, I mean Sir John did used to net with none other than W.G. Grace mind you. And with all this time to practice during his retirement. I wish I had 60 years of retirement to practice. Still, I would never reach the heights Sir John has. Yes the Doc is quite the celebrity around these parts, and with him returning to action this winter let’s hope that he can continue to hold onto his crown as the King of the leg-spinners.