Defeat under Table Mountain

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The second match of the tour took place at Western Province CC, a stunning ground situated under Table Mountain. The weather was glorious, and our hosts even went as far as handing us the toss on a plate (quite possibly the only thing Eds Copleston will win all tour). We started decently, Damian Hill’s idiosyncratic strokeplay contrasting and outscoring the more classy Alan Cope. Cope fell leg before to a Tom Merry instant decision, and thereafter we limped along, with only a stand of 63 for the fourth wicket between the Crumps enabling us to reach a half-decent total. The gamble of pushing the veterans Chetwode and Watkinson into the middle order to boost the scoring rate failed dismally. Copleston and Matt Crump scurried and swept at the end to help us reach moderate respectability.

Between innings we were treated to a sight never before seen at an OC match as Chetwode warmed up with some painful and horribly stiff contortions. No matter that he needed help to get up afterwards, it showed excellent intent.

Left to defend 160, we did make an early breakthrough when Watkinson won over the umpire with an obscenely long three-part screeching appeal. The ball was going down leg but no matter. It turned out to be our only success of the afternoon and our bowling was cut to ribbons and our fielding, increasing affected by sambuca Belgrano calls the previous night, became increasingly listless. WP Chairman’s XI romped home by nine wickets with almost eight overs to spare.

A marvellous barbeque followed, showing up Rick’s efforts in terms of quantity and also timeliness, and fines then took place against the backdrop of sun setting next to Table Mountain. Rick, to widespread acclaim, took the Dick of the Day tie. The journey home, past houses with ubiquitous razor-wired walls and promises that they were protected by armed response units, was enlivened by a karaoke session, the highlight in quality being Mike Roper, in entertainment Hill’s Suggerhill Gang rap.

The evening started full of promise but ended with the usual number of casualties. Despite warnings not to venture out after dark, Rick led the 4am walk home through the deserted streets to the hotel. Even the local thugs knew not to mess with a 5’4” puffball dressed in a hideous blazer.

The one unanswered question was the whereabouts of the nominated 12th man during the game. Rosenfeldt was missing at the start on an almost inevitable burger hunt, but then spent the remainder of the day telling everyone within earshot about his regular bowel movements. Any sympathy from neutrals soon evaporated when it transpired that his problems started in Lusaka when his desire for meat took him on a 45-minute cab ride which finished in two chicken burgers from a street vendor.