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. 

The club convict, who has now returned to England (the scene of the crime) after not fancying those hard tracks of Queensland (Its all the Queen’s land mate). When writing these profiles its vital you must get the correct balance of 50% cheeky rascal and 50% informative Craig Marshall stat-man, which is why I am finding this profile particularly difficult as there is no one more irritating at this club than Mark Beames. You may think I’m joking. But I’m not. I’d rather have a shower with sand paper for a bar of soap than sit down and talk to this Australian. And when he is not sending me 500 emails in one go about the club he is texting me like I’m the only contact in his phonebook, calling me when I don’t reply with minutes because I’m too busy hitting my head against the table. I secretly think he fancies me. Must do with all these texts. Blooming yuppie.

Of course I jest (I don’t). In his time here at our club Mark has integrated himself as one of the most vital players and support staff we can have, a bit like a virus or rash you just can’t get rid of, no matter how hard you try. He can’t get much affection at home either because every Sunday you can find him on his laptop bashing in… the scores of the weekend so that our website is fully operational and up to date. Despite what the committee names say also he is also responsible for the fixtures. I mean seriously is there nothing this man can’t do (yes, sod off and leave me alone as a start.) But it would be unfair to say that I did not appreciate Marks efforts. If Nathan is the person that ensures things are done on the scenes Mark is responsible for the things that go on behind them. A very key aspect of the club, and perhaps finest T20 captain/batsman who has graced our ranks. Likes to think of himself as an all-rounder (cow corner slogger and grenade chucker – with best figures of 2-14 against Raphael?) What’s a Raphael? Isn’t he a ninja turtle? Must of paid him off to steal those two wickets, not like he’s short a few bob (bob means money in English Mark – know you’re still struggling to adapt to the culture). But all in all, a bloody nice Bruce who’s got his heart in the right place. Just the head I’m worried about. Not to mention those skimpy flowery shorts?! Have a word someone...

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.

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.      

The walking, talking cricket anthology. You could get up in the morning, begin a cricket conversation with our Manu, pop off to the shops, return, run a bath, make a cuppa tea, eat your lunch, cook the dinner and fall asleep again before Manu stops talking about cricket. The lad bloody loves it. For a brief stint a few years ago (and to our ears delight) Manu left for Hatfield Pev to play in the Premier division. He must have been actually playing as, ever prone to the dodgy umpiring decision, they certainly wouldn’t of allowed him to be a match official, surely?. On one occasion Manu shot his finger up so quick that the bowler had not even turned round to appeal. And this crafty finger, trigger-happy and as quick as a gun-fighter at the O.K. Corral has of recent times been accompanied by a thick as ten bricks moustache that we all at one point thought was drawn on with permanent marker. Our Gringo doesn’t just follow trends, he sets them.

Its quite unfortunate that the other lads in the club can’t follow trends – such as scoring runs like Manu – because this geezer has buckets of them! You just can’t bowl at this guy as you will go the distance. I once see him hit a Yorker off the stumps for six down toward third man. I mean do me a favour. You could chuck a piano down at this man and by god he would play it better than Mowzart. Manuzart! I tell you – I don’t just make these up for fun you know. This season alone he has played 45 games. 45?! I didn’t even know we had 45 games. And where does his money come from for all them subs eh? Must hide it in that thick tash of his the crafty buggar. 45 games. Isnt there a local pub where you are Mr Tash? I suppose it’s a dirty job but someone has to do it, bravo for your efforts. We certainly need more players like Mr Tash. To him cricket isn’t a matter of life or death, no, its much more important than that. Rarely does a player come through our ranks that can bat bowl wicket keep and field as well as you. Just don’t put him on the boundary at OCCC, as he won’t see the ball. Fear not Mr Tash, for my dog also struggles with Red on Green colours and everyone still likes him to some extent. 

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.