Full Fixture Information

Result Descriptiom

Lost, but that really doesn't describe it.

Man of the Match

In light of the uniformly poor performances, no MoM was awarded.

Champagne Moment

Honestly, it was so bad, we couldn?t find one!

Teddy Bear Moment

Rupert's Golden Quacker

Full Match Report

On the 10th of August 1880, the Flying Scotsman, on its way from Edinburgh to London, hurtled around a curve some 3 miles outside Berwick-upon-Tweed, derailed and came to a calamitous rest. A complete train-wreck which sadly claimed the lives of 3 passengers. On the 10th of August 2025, eleven of East Meon's finest dawdled to the pavilion on our beloved Rec prepared to do battle with old friends and foes, the Rioteers, each blissfully unaware of the proverbial train-wreck which lay ahead of them (thankfully with a lesser loss of life than the incident 145 yrs earlier).

Spirits were high. The sun shone, and the gentle breeze was warm. Our captain, ever hopeful, strode out for the toss, and for once returned with a smile. Win toss bat, of course.

Oli and Rupert, (he of the medical practitioner variety) opened up for the Meon. One Bertie Hillier, opened up from the alpaca end for the Rioteers. Oli saw off a testing first over. Bertie was bowling quickly, short-ish and with swing and seam movement. Tricky. 'Too much grass left on the pitch' someone muttered.

Williams opened from the village end at a much more pedestrian pace. Pedestrian or no, young Rupert somehow managed to deflect a solid defensive shot back onto the stumps for his second consecutive duck, and a golden at that. He returned to the pavilion with a face that would have pickled herrings and spent a little time on the seat under the Coronation Oak reflecting on his fortune. Ali Wheeler replaced Rupert at the crease and saw off the first of nearly three overs of deliveries before finally getting off the mark.

Meanwhile, Oliver at the other end was doing his best to see off Bertie. Thankfully for the Meon, Bertie was bowling too short, and Oliver was able to take advantage with three lovely late cuts for four to the third-man boundary. It would have been four in a row, if the Rioteers' captain had not wised-up and moved a fielder there to stop the runs. Precious runs as it turned out. Over 20% of the Meon's innings total as it turned out in four deliveries! He looked on track for another solid, average boosting innings, but it was not to be. A dastardly Meon grubber at pace from Bertie and his stumps were knocked back. He trudged dejectedly back to the pavilion for a commendable (but not MoM material) 22 with the score at 22 for 2 or something very close.

Captain Andrew joined Ali and saw off another couple of overs, in which Ali got off the mark with a single, only to have his stumps also knocked back soon after by the aforementioned Bertie Hillier. 'Too good for me' he muttered as he returned to the pavilion. Josh lasted just a single ball, bizarrely gloving a ball from Bertie onto his chest and from there onto his stumps. 4 down for very little, perhaps 31?

Your correspondent strode out to face the hat-trick ball, hardly brimming with confidence, but thankfully Bertie was a little wayward and the hat-trick ball failed to have the desired impact. From the non-striker's end I was able to observe Andrew despatch Williams for a lovely boundary through the covers. There was to be no pressure relieving single that over, so I took guard and prepared to face Bertie once more. Two very near misses, a couple of nasty short balls and perhaps a reasonable defensive shot or two and we had seen him off. 'Nice spell Bertie' yelled his team mates.

'Right, we have plenty of time', said Andrew. 'Let's make sure we build an innings.' A few more nice shots off Williams, a change of bowler, then an expansive drive and our courageous leader was 'Skittled' through the gate. 5 down and barely 50 on the board.

The 'Beast from Botswana', freshly returned from injury joined me at the crease. 'An important time to knuckle down and score some runs when the club really needs it', I thought. Within a couple of balls I was back in the pavilion, strangled down the legside. Mooro scored but one before being a little unlucky - the victim of a sharp catch at slip. Nick Sole, that stalwart of the forward defensive lunge, lasted little longer. Sticko did not trouble the scorers. Aaron gave a glimmer of hope before succumbing for 3 and Wayno batted bravely, carrying his bat for 0 from the same number of deliveries. The Meon all out for 63! Where does that stand in the overall pantheon of pathetic performances? Only Jimmy will know.

The reason for this performance you may ask? Well, in truth it was a mix of some good bowling, some very ordinary cricket and a little bit of the rub of the green not going our way. Nonetheless, 63 is 63 and we hung our collective heads. It wasn't even time for tea!

Ten minutes later we were back on the field, trying to defend the indefensible. Sticko opened up with some lovely bowling from the alpaca end and was duly rewarded with a wicket, bowled in his second over, but was a little hardly done by to end up with only 1-17 from his 5 overs. Wayne at the other end bowled some jaffas and some doggy-doos and ended wicketless from his 4.

Yours truly came on from the village end and bowled 2 overs for 4 runs (4 byes apparently don't count against the bowler :) ). Oliver replaced Sticko at the alpaca end and bowled some lovely balls, knocking over 2 in his third over to finish with 2-14. Good as Oli's bowling was, this period of the game will however be remembered for Oli's audacious attempt to maim one of the batters (and no doubt thereby reduce his run scoring capabilities) by hitting him in the head with a poorly aimed throw to the non-strikers end. After a brief retirement, said batter was able to return to the affray.

Josh Haslett picked up one in his last over, but it was all too little, too late. The game was over before tea, the Rioteers taking just 18 overs and losing just 4 wickets to chase down the total, despite (we suspect) batting from number 11 backwards. A truly humbling if not embarrassing train-wreck from the Meon, which detracted (just a little) from the fine tea that was on offer. Fines were appropriately harsh.

Even a quick Hundred game to fill the evening after tea brought no solace, with the Meon also losing, albeit with a little more fight this time. May the bucolic surrounds of Bentworth provide a salve to our wounds next week!