Main Arm continued dry run on slippery wicket

Photo Anders Sandberg –

Photo Anders Sandberg –

Brian Mollet

Sunday dawned slick, moist and frigid, like a politician’s handshake, enough to test, but not to deter, the grass-stained gladiators of the Nick Shand Memorial cricket series.

Car-pooling in their hybrids from their geocentric dome houses, the Main Armers faced the grim clannish country folk of Left Bank, reigning champs and hardened by generations of infighting for the control of remote bush gullies.

Bucko won the toss for Main Arm and invited the Bankers to bat, hoping to test the top order with the ball likely to skid around. Openers Russ and Leon had a respectful look at Dan’s first over then decided they’d seen enough. Soon the bowling attack was looking like the main street of Aleppo as Russ (30 n/o) showed no mercy and Leon (67 n/o) terminated with extreme prejudice. Bruce (32 n/o) did not so much add insult to injury, he just added ‘multiple’ to the injuries.

The rattled Armers rallied after drinks with wickets to brutal Bruce (2/6) and Adeha’s alter-ego, ‘Captain Soy Milk’, but this just made way for Leon’s return performance, which had smoke coming from the nib of the scorer’s pen.

Main Arm needed a quick 180 to win but the only place this was likely to happen was on the adjacent skatepark where Ruckus was in full swing. Bucko (30 n/o) led his embattled team well and when joined by Dan (29) who, like popcorn, always gives more than you’d think, the Armers were in the argument. The Bankers’ bowling is as good as their batting, however, and Dan’s demise and the calamitous runout of brutal Bruce for a duck meant the late order was only playing for pride. Best of the Bankers bowlers were fab Phil, Eli, Scruff and Russ. Only Merlin materialising in the late order was able to create any temporal disturbance of the boundary rope. The innings closed at 114 and the Armers never recovered from their monstering in the first session. Next week no cricket at all looms as many will apparently have splinters in their arses, sliding the worn bannister rail of dust, detection animals, ear damage and twelve-dollar drinks.

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