Slaithwaite Cricket and Bowling Club

Two wins in two days – 14points for and 4 against. Someone in our outfit must be dabbling in the dark arts and I shall keep a sharp lookout for any signs of newts or toads, pointy hats, magic wands or pentangles until we get to the bottom of this.

An update on L.W. who must have had his mobile ‘phone repaired as El Capitano received a message to say that L.W. would be be late as he was on a shopping trip to town. Typical of L.W. to keep me informed when he hasn’t been selected !

Tuesday’s game was notable for the weapons of mass destruction wielded by one of the opposition’s pairs players. 3′s full and hernia inducing in weight they regularly crashed into the boards sending whitewash, splinters and spectators flying. Rumour had it that they were cannonballs recovered from Crimea after devastating use against the Light Brigade. El Capitano is looking into whether or not some sort of licence is necessary for the ownership of such ordnance before someone gets killed.

Happy bowling everyone

Presenting Slawit Vets in

“Ice Station Zebra”

or

A Visit to Outlane

British heroes tend frequently to fall into the Captain Oates bracket – you know, he of “I’m just going outside and may be some time” fame, when caught short in the middle of the frozen Antarctic where he nobly decided to sacrifice himself for the sake of the cause.

Well, on Tuesday afternoon there were twenty such heroes who played out the drama of a diabolical cryogenic experiment supposedly in the name of sport . An experiment , incidentally , for which brass monkeys most definitely should not apply. And , were it not for the fact that this was a voluntary exercise ,  there would have been a right meaty case for Amnesty International to get its teeth into. Yes , a game of bowls at Outlane Bowling Club.

Unbelievably on top of this the visiting captain was subjected to the added psychological pressure of the apparent disappearence into thin air of L.W.(no name for legal reasons) . Very late in the day and much to El Capitano’s grateful relief L.W. deigned to make his appearance . Apparently he had (for reasons known only unto himself) performed a clog dance atop his mobile ‘phone thus rendering it useless and himself incommunicado and therefore incapable  of  appraising his leader of his intention to make a delayed appearance .Alternative arrangements for communicating have subsequently been discussed including semaphore and smoke signals (both rejected) and remain ongoing.

Anyway, enough of this nonsense and down to the nitty gritty of the post meridian action :-

  1. John Hague observed “Who the hell’s bowling with white woods ?” Only  for it to be revealed after the application of de-icer that they were in fact standard black

  2. The kitchen kettle froze.

  3. Peter Muff swore blind he saw a posse of Polar Bears fighting over a pile of woollies in the local Oxfam shop . This however remains unconfirmed as the possibility cannot be ruled out that Peter was halucinating under the effects of hypothermia .

  4. No-one died (unreliable this due to our famed paucity in the medical knowledge department).

Oh, and the score ? We lost 3-6 .

“Tough XXXX” I hear you cry and you may well be right . However I prefer it to be stated with a little more elegance and after fifty odd years can at last find some practical use for the words of my old school song – “Non Nobis Domine” . Amen to that and so say all of us.

P.S. It has been reported to the Leader that L.W. was overheard negotiating with Brian Holmes over the price of a couple of homing pigeons but if he thinks El Capitano is going to be drawn into the vagarious realms of avian correspondence he’s got another think coming.

P.P.S. Anyone for indoor bowling ?

I knew it was going to be a bad day as soon as the wife played her Country and Western music over breakfast. Even worse she sang the words to the accompaniment of hale and rain battering against the window.

And so it proved to be.

On a green as heavy as lead the Slawit Light Infantry, like the French knights at Crecy centuries before, lost its way in the mire and crashed to an ignominious defeat at the hands of the Ravensknowle Park Heavy Brigade in a whanging match of epic proportions.

Woods were hurled by the Heavy Brigade to parts of the green that were further than most of the Light Brigade would contemplate going on holiday and the inevitable collapse ensued. Their honour besmirched some were struck dumb, others sought petrol and matches to to send their woods up in smoke as appeasement to the Gods whose wrath they had so obviously incurred. Raw recruit Robert Mozley was shell shocked into asking “What the xxxx have you got me into ?”. But he had taken the King’s shilling and there was no going back.

Mentioned in depatches, Stuart Wood and the Platoon Commander who stuck to their guns and wore down the enemy in their small corner of the battlefield.

Exit the field the halt and the lame to the sound of weeping and wailing and muffled drum accompanied from afar by the taunting voices of the the victors “Seven – Two, Seven – Two (etc,etc)”.

Shades of Wilfred Owen and the old lie “Dulci et Decorum est Pro Bowling Club Mori ”

Must remember to hide the C & W CDs.