That's a good question for down here; up in the Midlands, I'd have spent the football close-season watching the hapless Coventry Bears rugby league side being thrashed by a succession of Northern clubs.
They haven't started ferret-racing locally yet, I suppose that's the preserve of the high-Summer local fetes and shows. So the bird is left with cricket, and yesterday evening attended his first game for, I don't know, 40 years?
Buckhorn Weston Stingers are the club's weekday side and the cricket field is opposite Tom Thumb Farm, on the edge of the village on the road to Templecombe. I arrived at 5:45 for a 6:15 start to find the place deserted apart from one guy waiting in his car who allowed he was a member of the opposition team, and chatting to him, turned out to be a vocational teacher at the local Guy's Marsh Prison (notorious for a riot and fire a few months ago). Had a very interesting conversation - smuggled tobacco can fetch £100 an ounce, and is reputed to have hit £250 an ounce in Cardiff Jail. He also recommended the Prison Café, staffed by trustees and open to visitors ....
Thankfully around 6:10 a procession of cars arrived and we were on! This was a friendly T20 (one innings of 20 overs each) game against Compton House CC, from over Sherborne way. The teams opted to use the club's artificial pitch rather than the grass one. Compton House batted first, made a steady start, the openers stylishly putting on 40 runs for the first wicket, and eventually finished at 139-4, hitting 19 runs of their last over. Buckhorn Weston in contrast started disastrously, 8-3 off the first three overs, and 26-6 at the end of the sixth over!
Somehow, they managed to hang on for their full complement of overs, but were never anywhere in the chase for runs, finishing on 89-9, their no.9 hitting an unbeaten 33 runs. So all over in the gathering gloom, just after 9:00, and Compton House won by 40 runs.There 's a small cricket pavilion with a lot of interesting books and pictures on display, and a tiny kitchen, but nobody rustling up any food. Where were the cucumber sandwiches?
No admission, no programme (but I did get a rather neat club fixture card as a memento) and home for spaghetti on toast. Non-playing attendance 3. One of the highlights was Charlie, I'd guess an 11 year old, who not only acted as umpire for a spell but also fielded for Compton House after one of their players had had to depart early. He made one blinding stop and very nearly took off a deep catch!
I may visit Buckhorn Weston again. How can you resist a club whose Latin motto very roughly translates as "Hit the Bloody Thing into the Tall Nettles"?
