Tour Party to Vis: Hasan Ahmed, Shahed Ahmed Nick Berry (capt), James Brown, Matt Fleming, Mahfooz Mazunder, Rupon Miah, Chris Redhead, Sunny Sahota (v-capt, wk), Marcus Walters
XXX
With the first night of tour completed, the Knockers awoke on Friday for a day of team bonding and culture as we set about exploring the island of Vis.
There’s no better way to set you up for the day than a good old cup of tea, so when Chris ‘The Maestro’ Redhead returned from his 3rd supermarket trip of the morning with the DFC, he was understandably spitting feathers and reaching for the PG Tips. This didn’t go as planned and the murky cup of herbs left a lot to desired.
Following a lengthy debate as to whether the poor performance of the tea was due to the local milk (which was actually kefir) or water, faith was soon restored shortly after as we splitwised a round of coffee’s at what would turn out to be our regular morning stop off at Mamma Mia 2 coffee bar. We discussed a plan for the day and headed on food around the marina front to the beach to work on our cricket shirt tan lines.
A dip in the sea really hit the spot, and once we had finished crushing our feet on the beach pebbles, we headed to Katarina for burgers and beers. By this point, we had eased well into island life with Marcus feeling so much at home that he introduced cheese to his hamburger. We celebrated this remarkable piece of innovation with another round of beers which The Maestro joined in on too, having been called a pussy by the barman.
Word came through on the WhatsApp that the Shisha boys had rented a car and headed to the nearby town of ???? In search of the islands number one beach called ???? – a stunning hike which tested the fitness of our young athletes but showed their passion and commitment towards getting match fit for our series against Sir William Hoste CC over the weekend.
Inspired by their afternoon training, we set about sourcing a tennis ball to take back to the beach for some fielding and catching practice in the sea. No balls were to be found so we settled on using an orange.
It was at this point, things took a turn for the worse. With some spectacular diving catches, that would have impressed even the likes of Jonty Rhodes, the calls for ‘go long’ started to cry out and as I reached up to the sun to take a one handed screamer from Soulman, I felt the fizzing zest of the orange slide off my finger and with it, my wedding ring! The world stopped as I watched the ring float away down into the sea and into the soft bed of reeds. Panic set in, as Flemo and Sunny headed back to the apartment in search of goggles, whilst The Maestro, DFC, and I went under to try and find the ring, but it was too late. The ring had been taken by the ocean and now belonged to Vis.
Having discussed a plan on how to deliver this news to my wife, we picked ourselves up and headed back towards the apartment as thoughts started to turn to dinner. With tummy’s rumbling, we went off in search of a butchers. We were unsuccessful.
A 4th visit of the day to the supermarket followed, and at last we had what we needed for firing up a ‘bri-day’ night BBQ with head chef, Soulman. It was a sensational spread (as always), which we enjoyed whilst hearing all about the Shisha Boys day out at XXXX.
A game of backyard cricket featured after dinner, as we looked to get our eye in ahead of Saturdays opening fixture.
Cricket, Catches & Stone Skipping in Vis
It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and 10 fully grown adults (at least physically) found themselves locked in an intense battle—not on the cricket field, but in a game of stone skipping by the picturesque Adriatic coast. Laughter filled the air, but there was something deeper in their eyes. Was it the joy of reuniting under the TKCC banner? The lingering sadness of a hard-fought loss? Or just the sheer relief that this tour wasn’t another disaster like last year’s Bordeaux nightmare?
Hold on—let’s rewind a bit.
Flashback: The Bordeaux Trauma
TKCC followers will remember last year’s Bordeaux tour… and if you don’t, lucky you. It was not our finest moment. Add to that a lack of matches this season, and when rumors started swirling that a match might get canceled due to a funeral on the island, the Bordeaux PTSD hit hard. But our captain reassured us: the game would go on—a proper T20 showdown.
Match Day – The Journey to Vis
It’s 8 AM on match day, and the top knockers gathered at the pickup point, buzzing with excitement. After a quick caffeine boost at the famous Mamma Mia Café, we set off on what was probably one of the most scenic routes to a cricket ground ever. The opposition was already there—friendly, welcoming, and looking ready for battle.
The First Innings – Fireworks & Fumbles
Winning the toss, our skipper chose to bat first. After a brief pre-game ceremony (where Chris handed out Amigos goodies to the most frequent tourists among us), it was time for action.
Shahed and Marcus strode out to open, hoping to give us a fiery start. Shahed did not disappoint, launching a monster sixover the short leg-side boundary! But cricket is a cruel game—next thing you know, he mistimed a bad ball from Hilton and walked back to the pavilion.
Marcus, cool and steady, held the fort as Nick joined him. The duo was keeping the scoreboard ticking until Marcus got caught in a blender of bad decisions and ran himself out (ouch). Nick soon followed, edging to Hilton off a rather goodball from Teddy.
But then came Sunny and James. Oh boy, did they put on a show! The pair smashed sixes and boundaries like they were swatting flies. Three massive sixes and six sizzling fours later, we wrapped up our 20 overs at 120/3—a bit below par, but we backed our bowlers to defend it.
Lunch Break – Fuelling Up for Battle
Lunch was an absolute delight—served in a beautifully decorated restaurant close to the ground. Whatever was in that food must have been magic, because what followed was pure carnage.
The Bowling Onslaught – Catches Win Matches!
Mahfuz and Matt took the new ball, and my goodness, they were breathing fire! Every fielder was suddenly channeling their inner Jonty Rhodes.
Marcus set the tone with an insane diving catch at short cover.
Shahed followed up with a spectacular diving grab at short third man.
Fielding levels? Elite.
Drop catches? Zero.
Opponents? Shaking.
Soon enough, the hosts were 6 down, and victory seemed within reach. But just when we thought it was over, out walked Craig, a seemingly harmless man in his late 50s, who proceeded to play some textbook cricketing shots all around the ground. Partnering with Pablo, the duo silently robbed us blind, staying unbeaten on 45 each and taking the game away.
Silver Linings & Revenge Plans
Despite the loss, we walked away with heads high. Six stunning catches, fiery bowling, and a fielding performance that had the hosts declaring us the best fielding side to ever visit the island! Mahfuz bagged 4 wickets, Matt grabbed 2, and Chris even got his name on the scorecard.
Now, back to that stone skipping battle. James and Rupon were leading the charge, but in everyone’s eyes, there was something brewing. Was it the satisfaction of a friendly game? Or the burning desire for revenge on Day 2?
Only time will tell……
Match 1 of 2: October 12th, 2024 – Kriket Klub Sir William Hoste, Island of Viz, Croatia
TKCC – 120 for 3 (20 overs) Sir William Hoste – 121 for 7 (18 overs)
RESULT: SIR WILLIAM HOSTE CC WON BY 3 WKTS // SCORECARD: HERE
Another Shitty Day in Croatia
The day began as only a Knockers’ day could—with the tour party crashing the exclusive opening of Vis’s old fish market. Our notorious “shit shirt brigade” consisting of Skipper Nick, Sunny, James, Young Matt, Marcus, and Chris managed to charm their way in despite earlier rebuffs. Soon they were living it up with the local elite, sipping bottles of rosé, beer, whisky, and Aperol Spritz while a live band played. Young Matt, ever the entertainer, turned music critic with an impromptu “name that tune” session of lounge classics.
So much for pre-match preparation in a few hours.
The Match Begins
A slightly hung-over squad made their way to the match venue—a converted WW2 airfield nestled among vineyards, now serving as the spiritual home of Croatian cricket. Hearts sank when we spotted Craig, yesterday’s nemesis and the hosts’ skipper, who had single-handedly dismantled our team the day before.
Skipper Nick won the toss and elected to field in this 35-over contest. Our hopes for a change in fortune seemed premature as Craig and his partner (dubbed “the Croatian wall”) built a solid 50-run partnership. The Lancashire pro looked ominously comfortable, leading to whispered strategies: “Craig can’t bat alone—let’s focus on the others.”
The Turning Point
Then came the moment that changed everything. It needed an old wise head and the Maestro obliged. Despite earlier misfortunes (including dropping an orange in the Adriatic and losing his wedding ring), Skipper Nick, behind the stumps, was ready when the Craig finally offered a chance. One catch later, and our tormentor was gone—goodnight, God bless, and good riddance.
The floodgates opened. Wolfie emerged from hibernation with a spell of bowling that combined pace, aggression, and vigor, claiming two crucial wickets. Then came Young Matt’s moment of glory—a spell for the history books. Our Essex Media Mogul delivered a magical performance, including a TV-perfect wicket where Nick took a spectacular catch off an outswinging delivery. The crowd (well, the Knockers) went wild as Matt claimed three wickets in four balls, finishing with remarkable figures of 5/12 from seven overs.
The Chase
Chasing 132 in 35 overs seemed straightforward, but cricket’s never that simple. Our opening pair, Mahfooz and Hassan, started aggressively—Hassan even launched a massive six (the aftermath of which remains a story for another day). Uncle Rupon added his unique flair, but at 44/3, nerves began to jangle.
Enter the unlikely partnership of “West Country” Marcus and “Red Ink” Redhead. Their contrasting styles—Marcus’s initial erratic calling settled by some firm Northern guidance—proved the perfect combination. Marcus, typically known more for his appreciation of drinking, food, and camaraderie than his batting, chose this moment to craft his maiden Knockers fifty. Playing shots all around the ground, he transformed from cautious accumulator to confident stroke-maker, even managing a rare smile in the process.
Victory and Celebrations
We crossed the line with ten overs to spare, maintaining our unbeaten record on European soil. Victory lunch at the famous Roki’s restaurant never tasted sweeter, and the evening’s farewell dinner under the grape vines provided a perfect finale. Even Hasan, our selective diner, joined in the feast.
Awards Presentation
– Opposition Man of the Series: Craig
– Special Thanks: Steven
– Match Ball: Matt Fleming (7-12)
As we prepared for our 7am catamaran to Split the next morning, cards in hand, we couldn’t help but reflect: if Carlsberg did cricket tours, they’d struggle to match this one. A bucket-list location, fantastic people, and memories to last a lifetime.
Onto the next adventure…
Match 2 of 2: October 13th, 2024 – Kriket Klub Sir William Hoste, Island of Viz, Croatia
Sir William Hoste – 132 All Out (30.1 overs) TKCC – 135 for 3 (23.1 overs)
RESULT: TOP KNOCKERS WON BY 7 WKTS // SCORECARD: HERE
Tour Party Playing Squad to Bordeaux: Hasan Ahmed, Shahed Ahmed, Nick Berry (capt), James Brown, Lewis Brown, Will Freeland, Dan Gibson, Mahfooz Mazunder, Rupon Miah, Chris Redhead, Alf Rehman (v-capt), Sunny Sahota (wk), Marcus Walters
Tour Party Barmy Army to Bordeaux: Kirsty Redhead, Gee Sagoo
It’s 5:30am. I’m awake, showered and packed. Dog’s been out for a pee. Baby milk bottle made. Toddler still asleep. It’s time for tour!
What could possibly go wrong.
My 2.5 hour journey to Bristol airport was to be all the more entertaining with my accompanying wingman in the form of Alfonso. So as I stepped out of my front door to greet him with a viking hug, I was surprised to see our tour anchor, reclined at 180 degrees in his car. For those that know “The Phonz”, you will know that this is a man that doesn’t do things by halves, and as we will later discover in this year’s story, that reputation would prove only to be enhanced further. For now, he had driven 3 hours from Alton Towers to Princes Risborough, through the night, fresh from a night of wine and regional rep rapping with ‘Abandonman’ and the Majestic massif.
We hit the road, but after coffee and sausage & egg McMuffins, the panic set in around whether we had left ourselves enough time to get to our flight. Fear not reader, as we arrived at our short stay car park with 1.5 hours to spare. As safe as chasing down 300 with a couple of overs to spare.
What could possibly go wrong.
Well, the signs were there to see soon after, as my kit bag, tightly packed with tour essentials (bat, pads, gloves, helmet, shirt shirt, ceramic snail trophy…) burst at the seams, leaving my crisp whites in a heap on the puddle covered floor. A fitting image for what was to come.
Still, we got to check in, and after plenty of packing tape around my kit bag, we got ourselves through security. But wait, The Phonz was in trouble! As like all cricketing sensei’s, this master couldn’t bear to be separated from his batting sword and thus removed it from his bag to be at one with it on the plane. This however, didn’t get past the eyes of the third umpire at security, and with no reviews left, the bat was sent back down to the pavilion to be locked away. Like a batsman walking off the pitch, shaking his head as he re-watched his dismissal on the big screen, Alfonso made his way up the stairs, where we were greeted by our fellow Knockers in the form of Gibbo, Marcus, Lewis and Sunny. More Viking hugs took place and we made our way to the gate. Before we knew it, we were on the plane!
What could possibly go wrong.
The WhatsApp group fired up with a photo of our Will and Soulman on the plane from Gatwick, sat next to each other, smiling and loving life, but those smiles were to soon be wiped away as a follow up message alerted us to their arrival at Bordeaux coinciding with a bomb threat and airport evacuation resulting in them sitting on the runway for the entire morning session. More panic set in on our plane at Bristol, feeling like we were in a scene from ‘Airplane’ as flight attendants updated us with messages at 5 minute intervals to say the airport had been evacuated and then being closed again. Following the final call to confirm that our flight had been cancelled for the day, we scrambled around to get ourselves on the next available plane on the following day which would leave at 11:15. We were all booked on except for Sunny and The Phonz who would have to travel at the same time but with a 3 hour stop off in Nice.
The lovely folk at Bristol Airport Hilton were more than happy to turn our frowns upside down and pump us with the most expensive continental lager in Bristol throughout the afternoon. We booked in for the night, and took a breather in the hotel lounge whilst looking longingly at the airport departure board and playing “Guess what country that plane is flying to.” (Surprisingly difficult!)
Hours passed, and after various of incoming photos from Will and Soulman enjoying their romantic steak and wine evening in our lovely Bordeaux villa, we decided to leave our hotel and head out to the streets to the lively Neighbourhood of Nailsea. A few bottles of wine, a game of 1970s Trivial Pursuit and a lovely Italian meal later, we went in search of one last stop off to finish our eventful first day of tour. And The Royal Oak did not disappoint. A few more beers, games of pool and ten pin bowling and then a taxi back to our hotel for bed, but not before the local West Country boys, Marcus and Iceman had enjoyed a triple scotch nightcap.
Our first day of tour had it all. Tomorrow was a new day, and we were ready to get our adventure back on track.
What could possibly go wrong? Friday … A view from the Blabla Bus
Like many a test match, Day 2/5 turned out to be the most eventful of our trip, whether for movement, partnerships or ominously setting the course for the rest of the journey ..
For the majority of the group, a hastily rescheduled BristolBordeaux flight, actually arriving in the nick of time to experience the best that Giscours had to offer .. A sensational tasting at the beautiful Chateau in the heart of the Haut-Medoc, home to 4 of the world’s finest wine estates; for Will & Grace a memorable lunch for two encounter with some tripe (hoped to be “steak trites”) in the picturesque town of St Emilion just a long stones throw over la Gironde (they had to drive it, Ed)!
Meanwhile the engine room of our playing strength had arrived at the villa to set up shisha pipes, having seen their choice of transport or Mafooz’s turnover charged sportster towed across central France .. For Sunny, a long nap on the runway at Bristol and a dash through Nice Cote d’Azur without his wingman; for Alphonso a missed connection at Terminal 2 followed by a lucky encounter and a night bus to Bordeaux .. And for Soul man the responsibility to set up the Villa for success a task taken with aplomb .. no burnt pizza or warm sagres this year, Ed ….
The core of the 3rd TKCC tour party would finally be united pitch-side at 10.30 the following morning, 38 hours behind schedule … All we needed now was for the clouds to part and the cricket to provide even half the entertainment of Day 3 ..
Out of the dark and the rain he appeared. Ducking his head through the door. Tired. Broken. But relieved.
The man in the doorway said he’d traveled from Nice, but that couldn’t be right. That was 13 hours away by bus. And he’d arrived here at 8AM.
As he stepped into the light of the kitchen his face became visible for the first time. Hard to age at first, but undeniably a friendly man fallen on hard times.
Behind him he dragged a bag, packed full. As he emptied its contents onto the floor it became clear he was a cricketer. And he’d come to play. But to play, the rain would have to clear.
Through determination and blind optimism, rather than expectation, we piled into our transport and started the now very familiar route to the Châteaux along the roads we’d damply plodded only hours before.
On arrival a dash of apprehension was added to the cocktail of emotions as we were greeted by an athletic gentleman dressed in a Gloucester CC tracksuit. Rumours spread of professional careers before moving to the French countryside. Had we bitten off more than we could chew here? Have we finally found ourselves out of our depth?
Perhaps, but we’ll never know. It turns out that the the man in the tracksuit was 1/5 of our entire opposition for the day. In the first of many let downs, they had less than half a team for us to face off against.
And so reluctantly – but in an attempt to make the most of it – we pooled our resources and drew teams. And for the rest of the day we played a very leisurely game of cricket.
It’s hard to be annoyed when you’re playing cricket in the grounds of a Châteaux with your friends, regularly breaking to drink wine. But there was an undeniable sense of frustration that this is what we’d traveled for. And that any performances were futile as this was, by no stretch of the imagination, a proper match.
With the day done, post match pleasantries shared, and bags packed, we headed into Bordeaux to find a bar for the much anticipated (by some) South Africa vs. England Rugby World Cup Semi-Final. Let’s just say that only one of our touring party enjoyed the match, but we all enjoyed the burgers.
We ended the night at a speakeasy bar drinking cocktails that Marcus had only ever seen in the movies, before heading back to the house for some pool and whatever was left of the beers.
Tour awards
1 /Best bowling – SUNNY (what’s he doing looking after the ‘keeping gear, Ed!)
2/ Best batting – ICEMAN (16* and pairs match winner)
3/ Best moment – HASAN / Shahid DUEL
4/ Best new tourist.. CHRIS
5/ Escargots Trophy for Top Tourist.. SOULMAN
Rookie Error Nominations MARCUS “Sans chaussures” ALF – most expensive journey & jumping in muddy puddles SUNNY – sans keeping kit
Tour Party to Penacova: Hasan Ahmed, Shahed Ahmed, Jamie Berry, Nick Berry (capt), James Brown, Lewis Brown, Dan Gibson, Alf Rehman (v-capt), Sunny Sahota (wk), Marcus Southon, Andy Spenceley, Marcus Walters
Le Grande Depart
On arrival at Luton airport there were Top Knockers everywhere you looked, bouncing excitedly towards the warm orange glow of the Easyjet check-in desks.
There’s nothing quite like the first day of tour, it fizzes with all the fervour of a square cut struck cleanly out of the middle of the bat, racing towards the boundary rope. So when those with cricket bags were directed to oversized luggage, not even the few extra paces straining under the weight of the tools of their trade could dampen the spirits.
This was a group of men high on the thrills of life on the road, bristling with (youthful?) abandon having shaken off the shackles of commerce for a few precious days of hard-earned “drinking, fun, and camaraderie” as Marcus would later on so eloquently put it.
For all concerned, this was a waft outside off at cricketing immortality. A turn-of-the- arm at putting in the type of performance that would cement a place in TKCC myth forevermore.
Giddy on this notion and a cocktail of pre-flight pints and Pret sarnies, we boarded, and were soon cruising at over 30,000 feet and loving life. But what goes up, as they say, must also come down. And so it did, at baggage reclaim when we discovered Lewis’ cricket bag had got stuck on the crease (tarmac) at Luton Airport. Undeterred we soldiered on.
I was recently reliably informed by a reputable podcast that Portugal is our fair country’s oldest ally. In fact, we were touring in the 650th year of said alliance. But as our sleep deprived skipper set about berating a surprised looking gentleman at the car hire company, it became clear he cared little for the Treaty of Windsor. With wife and young son looking on, the elasticity of Anglo-Portuguese relations were tested and the steel in our leader’s gaze matched with the furrow on his brow made it clear he hadn’t travelled this far for peace. His sights were firmly set on conquest.
Hours (2) passed, and soon the lights of Penacova came into view. The brightest of which belonged to a Lidl, which was rather a relief as we were in dire need of sustenance. With no nutritionist yet within our ranks we did our best to hazard a guess at what it takes to fuel a squad of finely tuned athletes. Knowing, at least, that it’s important to fight the urge to get ‘experimental’ so close to match day, Spenno, Soul Man, and I stuck to the tried and tested, stacking the trolley high with crates of Sagres, plus an assortment of crisps and frozen pizzas.
Like the sounding of trumpets, a chorus of barking local dogs greeted us as we arrived at our digs. It had everything: backyard cricket space, precarious balconies, tolerant neighbours, so spirits were high. We were back, nestled in the sweet embrace of life on tour. In no time, beers were being chugged and pizzas charred, and day 1 nudged nonchalantly to a close with the mood set fair for the next day’s play.**BANG**
Then a **CRASH**
I ran. As fast as I could.
Towards the women’s toilet.
As I peered through the smashed window I prayed.
Was anybody hurt? Or did we get lucky?
*record scratch* *freeze frame*
Yep, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.
Well let me take you back to the start.
I awoke on Friday morning and went to the balcony. The village we’d be calling home for the weekend looked different in the sun. Less threatening. Less like a compound. The dogs had even stopped barking for a minute. It was going to be a good day, I thought.
I rounded up Marcus W, Alfie and Lewis. And with the taste of charcoaled pizza and lukewarm beer still lingering in our mouths, we returned to Lidl.
“Just the essentials” we muttered to each other. But as we each dispersed to a different corner of the shop I realised we all had different interpretations of the word. I stocked up on cold meat and cheese. Marcus narrowed in on the sweets and crisps. Lewis browsed the toiletries. And Alf, perhaps predictably, spent forty minutes comparing €5 wine.
Like true hunter-gathers we returned to our village, laden with treats to fuel our twelve warriors though the battles to come. And on Friday morning, we fed.
Tradition dictated we played 1-hand 1-bounce and so we did. Until it was time to head to the river. An afternoon of drink, meat and boating awaited. And it did not disappoint. As wine filled our glasses, chatter and laughter filled the valley.
Life was good and the Tour had begun.
Hours passed before a glance at the watch told us it was time to go. We’d loved to have stayed, of course, but there was cricket to play. And so we head back to the villa – part booze, part anticipation – to rest, recharge and ready ourselves.
The bus rounded the bend and there it was. The Parque Cricket Ground in all its glory. The grass, green and the lights, bright. Our Colosseum. A casa do críquete.
Much of the game is a blur, if I’m honest. And from the state of a few, I suspect the same is true of our opposition. But here’s what I can remember…
Innings of Coimbra Knights CC:
1. Andy Spenceley opened the bowling and returned what are, quite frankly, ridiculous figures of 4o-2m-5r-2w
2. Panda came out to bat twice for a combined total of 2 runs
3. We didn’t get Chris out
4. CKCC finished 99/9 from their 20 overs
Innings of Top Knockers CC:
1. Skipper Nick Berry was triggered by his good mate Sunny in the first game of the tour for 5 runs
2. Marcus W scored a brutal 49* on debut consisting almost exclusively of cut shots
3. And here’s where I’ll need to break my bullet point match report format…
With six runs left to win and a debutant one run away a fifty, you’d like to think his teammates – particularly the man at the other end – would do anything to get him there.
Well, reader. That didn’t happen.
Not even close.
In fact, the cricketing opposite of that happened. Because what the scriptwriters hadn’t considered is that his batting partner at the time was the ultimate tour showman. A man that can’t help but find the limelight. A player who always keeps one eye on the ‘Champagne Moment’ award.
Alf ‘Alfie’ Rehman.
So as the clock struck ten and Panda, about as many pints down, trundled in to bowl, Alfie did what Alfie does. I hope this doesn’t spoil anything for you, but I have to confess that he didn’t dab it down into a space and run one.
He rocked back.
Eyes beaming.
Heart pounding.
And he swung his bat.
**BANG**
Then a **CRASH**
Match 1 of 3: October 7th, 2022 – The Parque Ground, Miranda Do Corvo, Portugal
Coimbra Knights – 99 for 9 (20 overs) TKCC – 100 for 1 (13.2 overs)
RESULT: TOP KNOCKERS WON BY 9 WKTS // SCORECARD: HERE
Saturday – “Do not ask for whom the dog barks – it barks for thee.” – Anon
As a sportsperson ages, one looks optimistically to the future (Autobiography and perhaps Strictly?), while reviewing one’s past more critically. Has one done enough to secure of one’s legacy? What of the wisdom accrued during one’s tenure – how can it be passed on? And to whom?
I found myself asking all these questions (and many more) most pointedly, when confined arse to arse with another key member our spin bowling attack, within the car-boot of a crypto-baron declaring that the ‘police know not to stop me round here’, as he sped through the Penacova hills, or as we now know ‘drug country’. Forgive me, I have jumped to the end of my story, before even starting with Saturday morning. Spoiler alert: Dan and I survived.
Morning As is the tradition, rhythmic snoring marked the transition from Friday to Saturday, but this time my experience of it was mercifully dampened by a stud wall, as I had taken well to my new lodgings in the broom cupboard. The storage room offered just enough space for a man of conservative proportions to lie down, head to skirtingboard; feet to door. Left and right were cupboard doors, resulting in a 4 sided wooden encasement. In short, it was not unlike a coffin with sofa-cushion bedding. I felt invigorated. A good day. A day to secure a legacy.
Breakfast: For me – a microwave pancake, yoghurt with fruit, rolled into a sort of pseudo burrito.
Sunny S – took a similar approach with poorer presentation
Jamie B – tentatively, some yoghurt*
Andrew S – fag
Hassan – toast from a partially dismantled gas oven, which, to a casual onlooker, must have seemed like attempted arson.
Other breakfasters were not witnessed by the author.
*I understand Jamie’s gastric problem is now much improved all will be pleased to hear!
Pre-amble Nothing prepares you for a big game like striding out of your villa as one unit… As a team… then being harangued by rabid dogs from above. Presumably another one of opposition captain Chris’ many chess-like moves to throw us off balance. It didn’t work as we were down waiting for the bus ON TIME. First battle won.
I need not cover the journey, as much as to say that it was eye opening talking the Hugh, their opening bowler/part time wicket keeper about his life of cannabis cultivation, addictions, heart attack and subsequent fleeing of the United States. Little did I know he would turn out to be one of our more level-headed opponents.
Upon arrival we circled the ground, careful to fully absorb the pitch’s undulations. We were introduced to it yesterday, but today’s was the BIG game – the 40 over clash. Saturday’s skipper, Alf, was leaving nothing to chance while filling the giant shoes of Nick, who had arrived with the tragic news he’d put his back out. One more reminder, as if our era’s sports veterans needed it, of our frailty.
Competitiveness, thinly veiled by jovial greetings, completed; Skipper Alf asked your good and honest author, Lewis, to open the batting with another tour veteran Shahed.
Once padded up, to build my confidence I faced a couple of balls in the nets from Jamie, Andrew and Hassan who were keen to iron out yesterday’s muscular creases. Having been dismissed a handful of times in quick succession, I decided that my confidence levels couldn’t survive much more building, so Shahed and I marched out to greet fate face-to-face.
The opening bowlers were steady and on the mark. Shahed and I started slowly in earnest. Some sensible running between the wickets and the occasional boundary saw a good partnership growing. But it was getting hot out there.
The Portuguese Water-Gate scandal The opening batsmen’s opportunistic single-taking was not only taking its toll on the bowlers’ averages, but also on their own hydration levels. I need not say, perspiration was rife. Had Shahed experienced wicket keeper Tom’s shockingly poor-quality sledging well hydrated, I have no doubt it would have had no effect, however with the Portuguese sun now overhead and the ear-splitting volume of their wicky from behind, The Wolf was beginning to lose his cool…
No matter, I thought, as a drinks break was scheduled at 10 overs. Counting down the balls and now dangerously close to shrivelling like prunes, the drinks break was called. Palpable relief! Though wait, what was this? Chris discussing with the umpires, voices hushed, conspiratorial looks darting from clubhouse to sun-stroked batsmen. “Drinks at 15 overs… in another 5” Chris announced with barely concealed grin.
Now close to requiring medical attention, Shahed’s next shot was his only poor one. A swing, mistimed and caught by Robbie (Tech Crypto Baron) off Wayne. He really did have his heart set on some water.
Marcus S replaced Shahed (who was now sinking glass after glass in the clubhouse – he was in a better place). As walked Marcus to the crease I passed on what useful guidance I could summon about the surface, bowling and perhaps life in general, I forget. But it was clearly bloody good advice.
Suffice to say, a partnership was born of great import. Marcus quickly found his eye, and as I passed the fifty mark he was not far behind. Exemplary front foot shots defined Marcus’ innings, echoing like gunshots around ground. We had plenty to go at from the bowling attack, which now looked out of fresh ideas.
Captain Alf sauntered over with congratulations tinged with ill tidings. We discussed and agreed that I/we (ambiguous) should probably retire. The decision was made to give us 3 overs to make a hundred if we could, then to take our leave. Three fantastic overs of cricket ensued with balls finding middles of bats (mostly Marcus’) and boundary ropes regularly. But alas the bowling force was down but not out.
I knew I was a shot away from my first hundred; a career defining tonne. I had marched down the wicket to a slow/medium delivery just outside off, with a view to sending it out of the ground but ball never hit bat; ball hit glove; glove hit stumps. Everything happened so fast. It was a blur. I was looking down at myself from above, as if time had frozen and a voice said to me “Leeewwwwwis, don’t forget your Legacy”, and it came to me. Anyone can score a hundred, but the memory of good sportsmanship lasts a lifetime. What is more selfless than to fall on one’s own sword to allow the next generation their opportunity to shine. And so it transpired that I walked from the crease, questionably stumped on 96.
Later the word idiot was used a few times at dinner to describe the event, but it shan’t be forgotten.
Rapturous applause greeted me from opponents, teammates and inspired local children alike, a memory etched into minds for eternity.
I cast an eye over my shoulder to see Marcus taking Hassan under his wing as I had done him. I do not begrudge Marcus taking the limelight. It was his stage now.
The next half hour saw Marcus put peddle to metal. With every ear splitting crack of his off-drive and each bat splintering on-drive he seemed hell bent on out-scoring his elders and pushing them deeper into history. Sadly Hassan didn’t last very long, being bowled on 1 run by their solid medium bowler, Ibrahim. His replacement, tour veteran and housewives’ favourite, James Brown was similarly dismissed on 3. Perhaps Marcus needs to concentrate less on perfecting his front foot game and more on his advice to incoming batsman advice? Just a thought.
Following a very forgivable middle order wobble given the score line, Dan Gibson trotted out to join his long-time friend at the wicket. The dashing duo quickly swatted ball to boundary on repeat, until Marcus reached your good authors’ score of 96. And then… just like that, effortlessly beyond.
Marcus retired on 100, one of the finest innings TKCC has ever seen, reminiscent of Will Freeland’s, on the same day 3 years previous, just down the road. Congratulations Marcus Southon.
Our fine helmsman Alf, arrived to tack a few more runs on to our total with Dan before the over count reached 40 and the lunch ladies had had enough. TKCC with a mighty 276 runs for 4.
Lunch Lunch was a heady mix of dishes. Each wonderful in its own way; the choice was made difficult. I had the chilli. Everyone eyed Jamie nervously as he ate, but all was well – he even had some pudding. The catering team were thrilled.
In the Field TKCC returned to the field with the strut of a victorious army. A fine performance had led to a tough target to chase, but as the Portuguese proverb goes “Água mole, pedra dura, tanto bate até que fura” – Soft water, hard stone, keeps beating until it gets through – Even a seemingly soft opposition may break us down over time if we allow it. We needed to bowl tight, field tighter, and stay hydrated tightest of all.
Leading the charge of our bowling attack were Andrew Spenceley and Jamie Berry. An impressive opening spell from both with Andy claiming the first two wickets. First Hugh was bowled, then shouty Tom was caught by ‘sure-hands’ Sahota behind pegs. A period of settling was required by the opposition, but no leniency was given in the field as a certain L. Brown rifled one from square leg to Sure Hands Sahota run out their No3, Rob.
A hush descends as the TKCC bowling force’s nemesis, opposition skipper Chris, enters the fray. Never dismissed in 4 matches so far, would his record topple? Chris steadied the ship well as Marcus Walters and Dan Gibson took over with the ball. The Amazon Prime of bowling partners, their deliveries were reliable and at surprisingly low cost. Dan dismissed a brace of Coimbra Knights through his tried and tested technique of ‘letting them smash him nearly to the boundary, and hope for a catch’ – his blind hope was realised in the soft and supple 4 hands of two Marcus’s. Two very fine catches if memory serves; Marcus W seemed genuinely shocked to have held his. A fine example of the exemplary fielding and field placing shown in the game.
‘Tinkering in the field’ to a non-cricketer might well sound like something that the police should promptly be informed of, however to us ‘in the know’ it is a delight to witness – the sign of a zealous captain keeping his field fine-tuned. And to our captain of the day, Alf, it is a religion. “Just thin of regulation fine leg,” “Silly point with a wiff of gully,” or “Take a bearing of 125 degrees off leg stump and walk 42 paces” would not have been out of place in Alf’s encyclopaedic array of field placements. But by gosh did these off piste positions pay dividends.
Most Valuable Baller It is a little unfair to Andy S to overlook his 6 overs for 9 runs and 2 wickets – resulting in an average 4.5 runs per scalp, but the hero of our bowling attack was tour virgin Hassan. His average was a scintillating 4.25 having claimed an incredible 4 consecutive wickets for just 17 runs across 5 overs. Another shameless example of fresh blood overshadowing veteran stalwarts. At a time in the game where the Knights were beginning to stick to the crease and looked like they may bat out the overs, Hassan rose to the challenge and bowled with near bestial intensity. What did we expect from a another member of The Wolf’s pack? As we closed in on the tail end Shahed and Hassan were bowling end-to-end and one would have been forgiven for assuming that it was match between these two as opponents, such was the competitiveness from either end. Spurring each other on, each celebration was more fervent than the last.
As the final batsman met his demise at the hands of Andy S, caught off Marcus W’s bowling, we were elated. A fine performance by the TKCC winning by 166, though one elusive gem had eluded us once more. The shiniest gem of all. Opposition captain Chris’ scalp. And by scalp, obviously I mean his wicket. He had survived his 5th tryst with us unscathed. This couldn’t be allowed to continue.
Dinner Post-match revelry at the ground was cut short as we were offered transportation in to Penacova town for dinner. Lagers were downed and any changing room slap-and-tickle quickly brought under control to make sure we weren’t late for our generously offered lifts. We circled town after a few promising recommendations from Knights’ Tom. More mind games – they were all closed. On a Sat night? I’d learned not to ask too many questions. We settled on the only bar open; Cold beers and Pastel de natas. What more could one want? We met our hosts Chris and Kirsty, Wayne and his lovely wife, with Robbie (Crypto Baron) joining us at dinner.
James Brown and Nick Berry had taken on childcare responsibility for the first part of the evening and their better halves Charlie and Meltem were with us. It was a breath of fresh air to have them with us, in more ways than one (half of us hadn’t showered).
The local fish soup – sensational
Steak and Chips or I believe a Salt Cod affair for main?
Local wine – delightful.
Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps the excitement, but neither Dan nor I could make head nor tail of Robbie’s job. He described something in tech, working remotely, never having to meet colleagues or clients. Almost certainly unfairly, we took the primeval path and labelled that which we didn’t understand as to be feared. When someone asked us to summarise, Dan said ‘he’s a Crypto Baron’, with a look that said don’t ask questions. He was a true gent despite his possible nefarious career.
Some speeches completed dinner’s frivolities, kind words said, some tender glances between Nick and Chris. A shirt was awarded to this good and hard-working author! A Coimbra Knights cricket shirt for the ‘shittest shirt’ of the evening. I thought my shirt was ok. In the spirit of sportsmanship and camaraderie I accepted, but I couldn’t help but feel that there was an element of pity following being so brutally outscored with the bat earlier in the day.
With that the gentil and responsible folk retired (including I believe Shahed and Hassan please forgive me if my memory fails me on that). After a pleasant few post-dinner drinks, Robbie (Crypto Baron) sidled up to our group.
There was a secret fiesta on tonight.
The Feista – ‘Santo de casa não faz milagre’ When Robbie asked whether we’d be up for a midnight rally round the hills to a secret local fiesta I whispered in his ear another of my favourite Portuguese proverbs: ‘Santo de casa não faz milagre’ (A stay-at-home saint works no miracles) – I winked. He understood. That fiesta would be ours.
And so it was that I found myself with Dan stuffed buttock to buttock in the trunk of a family car driven by a Crypto Baron once again trying to explain his ambiguous career in IT systems, speeding around hilltop streets on the lookout for a secret family fiesta.
We had been going some time and as conversation died away nothing but dark streets and darker thoughts surrounded us as Robbie’s speed increased. But lo, what was this, the sound of live music? And as we turned a corner, the road lit up as if it were a yuletide high street. We had arrived. Robbie turfed us out, pointed us in the right direction and set off for another batch of Top Knockers.
We did not fit in.
At first glance, the scene seen through apprehensive eyes sparked fearful imaginings; The young lined up paying respects to an older generation who looked to be offered a level of reverence not seen outside mafioso movies. What had we stumbled into? As it turns out, nothing short of familial nirvana. A community where all generations enjoyed live music, dancing, conversation and bashing nails into logs. We were welcomed – albeit with odd looks – by all, and following a sizeable order of caipirinhas we headed to the beating heart of the party, the dance floor. The band had just started up and it was churning out pop party classics, fronted by a fine and vocally supple female lead singer. She was a marvel.
Once the group had all assembled, drinks in hands, we broke off outside for some fresh air and quickly found ourselves in a queue for the evening’s competitive entertainment: A game of who could hammer the nail into the log in fewest blows. A few games ensued – the only person who didn’t roundly embarrass himself was Marcus W. He was an artist with the tool. The bluntness of the hammer juxtaposed the finesse with which he wielded it.
I found myself sandwiched between Marcus’s in a fourway battle with Nick. I was having a fine old time until it became clear this was not my game, nor Nick’s. As the hammer blows rained down my mind drifted back to my time at the crease. My dismissal. My undoing. An aborted legacy.
CRACK! Marcus S’s cover drive echoing around the ground
CLANG-THUD! Hammer glancing nail and splintering wood. My mind jolting between past and present…
BANG! Marcus’s bat relentlessly chasing down my score
PING! Hammer on nail! Like nails in a coffin. The coffin of my sporting career. A wooden box.
My mind lurches to my broom cupboard at the villa. Tonight’s ‘final resting place.’ Is this it? Are my best years behind me? It started to panic, I felt woozy.
My memory is hazy from here on in, but after sternly saying ‘enough is enough’ in a Spanish accent to a Portuguese 5 year old who had been continuously nutmegging me with an empty water bottle for what seemed like hours, I turned and saw a sight which lifted the soul:
Andy, Nick, Marcus W, Dan, Marcus S, Jamie, James, Sunny, Alf, Oppo Tom, Oppo Robbie, even some locals. All were together, young and old, Portuguese and Brits, screaming their throats off to the Macarena, arm in arm on the dance floor. What a time to be alive.
It’s not the wins, the individual performances, nor the slap and tickle in the showers that really matters. This is what Tour was about. Making memories and ruining family fiestas. In a good way.
Marcus S came over and gave me a big hug with a smile on his face. “What a day” he said. I said “Yeah, what a d… wait, are you wearing my shirt?”
Not satisfied with taking my top score, he had literally taken the shirt off my back. I didn’t even care, for by then we were all tour brothers.
“So, what of legacy?” I hear you ask – with an undertone of ‘are you quite finished?’. Well that remains unclear. Did our cricketing performances inspire that day? Unlikely. Will bringing smiles, good vibes and bad shirts to a fiesta in the hills be remembered by Portuguese and Brits alike for many years to come – most certainly.
One more match to go…
Match 2 of 3: October 8th, 2022 – The Parque Ground, Miranda Do Corvo, Portugal
TKCC – 276 for 4 (40 overs) Coimbra Knights – 110 All Out (29.1 overs)
RESULT: TOP KNOCKERS WON BY 166 RUNS// SCORECARD: HERE
And so to the final game of the series.. With the Trofeu already retained, Nick’s men in black, yellow and whites rocked up to the ground, horrendously half-cut to say the very least (though no more so than if we had been heading into a tense series decider..) That was all except Alphonso of course who leapt out of the changing rooms in Full Mumbai Indians Training Kit W@nker mode overlaid with personalised inner padding (more than enough to take the award for Most Fineable Tourist on its own). Our previous day’s skipper had held back on the Sagres at the Festa but stayed up all night in any case scouring the web for European League stats.. A total waste of time as it turned out with NONE of the promised mercenaries Panda had warned on Friday night would “absolutely f#ck us up” actually showing up in one way or another – in what would be a true game of 2 halves and fluctuating fortunes.. or 6 sixths if you would.
1/6 – Chin music…
Knights took the early initiative with the raaapid Viki skidding one through to trap our shell-shocked skipper plum in front. ‘Phonz and Sunny showed some signs of stubborn if reluctant resistance and looked to have turned a corner inspired by some top cheerleading from Lewy at square-leg.. But Chris’ first change saw the 2nd break-through and Knockers were well on the back-foot at 20/2 off 10. Some positive running inspired by DFC indicated we had re discovered our game faces before 3 more quick wickets left the TKs contemplating our lowest all-time tour total: Phonz driving low to mid wicket; DFC not communicating to Wolfman his intention to run hard leading to a comical run out; and when JBez missed a straight one we were in the mire at 40/5.
2/6 – The DFG…
Shahed however was relishing the chin music in his best showing of Tour including a beautiful late cut over third man for 4. His misfortune with the bat continued as he too-soon departed LBW to a grasshopper, Chris Redhead turning the screw with a well worked 4/24.. But not before Marcus/ Devon Conway/ The DFG had turned the tide for us once more. Our Southpaw recorded another half century in an innings even more valuable than his David Gower-esque debut ton the day before. First of all blunting the attack taking single figures off his first 30 balls before demonstrating the full wagon wheel of his shots, most gloriously a lofted drive over extra cover to take the shine off returning opener Viki’s figures.. All of a sudden 140 was behind us and 180+ on the cards..
3/6 One brings two…
In tandem with some lusty blows from his carshare / my anytime wingman Iceman, the DFG upped the ante to run-a ball-stuff and the Knockers in the stands were dreaming of 200.. Step in the Knights’ skipper to oust them both, mopping up the tail as we left a whole over unused after Lewy had looked to push on leaving Spenno stranded on 6* and momentum shifting..
4/6 – The Fireworks..
Knights’ skipper kept coy at the wonderful chilli rice and cake selection interval as to how competitive a target of 173 would be.. “a few of the lads get excited with the bat in hand”… And so it proved…
Knockers’ pace duo of Spenceley and Berry Senior kept the openers quiet for only 2 overs before the fireworks began in earnest with “Match Fees” Viki teeing off after just 10 sighters and Andy joining in with good rotation of the strike through the cover voids. At 60/0 off 10 the Worm / WASP wasn’t looking good for TK’s but as this writer constantly reminded his teammates.. Just add 2 wickets to the score and it would be GAME ON..
5/ Demolition ‘Deshies
There was never any doubt once Skipper had made a rare double change, bringing on the Sheesha Bar twin seam attack of Wolfman and Blue Mist. What followed can only be described as a Calypso Collapse Of The Very Highest Order.. In what amounted to a spell of 7 wickets for 17 runs it turned out to be a stroke of absolute captaincy genius as the pair egged each other on like competitively excitable brothers in arms with their beautiful bowling (albeit aided by some rather suspect shot selection) as the pendulum swung once more.
Hasan struck first with his now trademark off-cutter splitting Andy’s defences. He was joined in the hutch by Viki snaffled at the wicket by Sunny to a similar delivery 2 overs later. So disappointed was the opener he felt he had to wait for the umpire’s finger (quite unnecessarily, as Spenno politely pointed out on the send-off;-) As if a double-break wasn’t enough, 2 became 3 when Ravi hesitated on a quick single to Lewis Brown – never to be kept out of the game however often the Bridesmaid; Lewy’s pick-up was clean as a whistle; the throw to Sunny electric as the bails were swiftly removed for a clear run out and 60/0 was in a flash 66/3.
As Phonz quietly reminded the oppo to take ownership of the scorebook and allow Chris to pad up, it was time for Shahed to get his share of the spoils.. luring the new batter into a false sense of security with a pair in the slot that were both wilfully despatched, he held the next one back for Alf to hold on to a REGULATION skier at mid wicket with the in-field closing in and TKs firmly with their tails up. 72/ 4. Another skier for the 5th with Spenno holding on despite some excitable distractions; and when Shaheed pushed one through to celebrate a clean bowled and held the pose like the statue of liberty, the slide had been reversed.
6/6 Asterisk & Obelix
Or so we thought! It only ever takes one partnership to see it over the line and so lbrar and Chris rotated the strike well and crashed the odd wide one to the boundary to stay in what was now a 4 an over game.. but solid economy from Lewis and Alf fresh from his aggressive burst on the Saturday pushed the rate up to 7s. When the former cleaned up lbrar, who took one risk across the line too many and then doubled up with an LBW for our driver Hugh the game looked to be up.. And then again the other way as the final wicket brought the hosts to within 10 – Chris once again the Rock of Coimbra laced with streaky fours from his no11 at the other end.
Enter Berry Senior to deliver an even finer spell than his first, having the last word through a perfectly executed yorker to leave Obelix stranded yet again to scenes of jubilation and Euphoria of an unprecedentedly successful TKCC Portuguese adventure. We cannot wait for the next one!
fin. AF-HR, TKCC 38, Zero ODl’s, Loads of Chat.
Match 3 of 3: October 9th, 2022 – The Parque Ground, Miranda Do Corvo, Portugal
TKCC – 172 All out (34 overs) Coimbra Knights – 162 All Out (33.3 overs)
RESULT: TOP KNOCKERS WON BY 10 RUNS // SCORECARD: HERE
1/ The host’s toast.. for the man who has co-ordinated it all from this end whilst also not ever giving us his wickets in 6 back to back Asterix…or is it… Obelix? (Chris Redhead: Coimbra Knights)
2/ Leading Runscorer… DFG (Marcus Southon)
3/ Most Wickets: Misty (Hasan Ahmed)
4/ Best Fielder: DFC (Marcus Walters)
5/ The year of the freshmen!!! Best Newcomer: Nominees: Spenno – ludicrous fielding and figures… Hassan – wickets, fielding stint, Blue Mist DFC – mvp on top debut worldie catch and earliest beer OTW DFG – sheer weight of runs and trekking across europe to get here Stifler’s Mom ; – ) WINNER: Jamie Berry – panda slaying plus the 30th wicket
7/ Best Tourist in a Supporting Role: Nominees: Spenno.. so often the bride this time the maid of honour so crucial to our successes this week Skipper for winning the crucial tosses and putting together the whole tour
WINNER: Iceman Gibbo (Dan Gibson) – wickets and economy through the week
8/ Voting over – Most Fineable Tourist: Nominees: Alf: stealing the winning runs.. Sunny: hatrick of not standing up, and being a bit quick to give skipper through finger of doom on top of a drop JBez – not knowing his cap number Sun – catch.. drop, itchy finger not standing up Shahed dissent, refusing to bowl and not having suitable eyewear for floodlights..
WINNER: Alf – on a number of levels!!!
9/… Top Tourist
All of the above could in any other year have taken the title of Top Knocker.. in the event of such a tie.. we have to look at overall contributions.. Getting us over the line.. Overcoming adversity to get here.. Unassuming demeanour.. Level of banter in general.. The best cheerleader and also a bag of wickets, great bowling economy and even his pb of 96 retired out!!!…
Tour Party to Ansiao: Shahed Ahmed, Nick Berry (capt), Phil Berry,
Matt Bezuidenhout, James Brown, Lewis Brown, Amit Dave, Nipun Don, Will Freeland, Dan Gibson, Alf Rehman, Sunny Sahota (v-capt, wk)
The Film
On a cold, crisp evening in January 2017 four lads from Shropshire met in Shoreditch, London for the first Shropshire Gentleman’s DC Dinner of the year. A monthly tradition that has been running between 5 (Daniel Webb, Lewis Brown, Nick Berry, Simon Howells and Sunny Sahota) of Shropshire’s finest in London for 7 years.
Once “Honoury Founding Father” Lewis Brown had perused the wine menu in pursuit
of his 3rd bottle of the evening, discussion quickly turned to Cricket (much to the annoyance of “Founding Father” Daniel Webb who’s sporting tipel of choice is more suited to a Saturday afternoon spent on the terraces at Margate FC, rather than a rainy Summer’s day stuck in a field for 8 hours!)
Cricket is a sport that never completely leaves you through life, regardless of whether you were a young county school boy player destined for greatness or simply someone who played relentlessly in the backyard re-creating Ashes scenarios of years gone by. For the 4 of us, we had come full circle and were ready to don the whites once more and look to play a few games a season, re-living some of our most special childhood memories of playing the great game.
So with that in mind at dinner, we decided to start our own social side with a view to making new friends and finding some of the most scenic and beautiful places to play around the country (not to mention the distant dream of taking our small little team overseas on tour!) We made a list of the most ridiculous team names we could come up with before landing on Top Knockers Cricket Club.
Fast forward 2.5 years, 16 matches, 48 players, 2584 runs, 109 wickets, 1 century, 9 fifties and 2 four wicket hauls and we were ready to embark on our first ever overseas tour. We were heading to the small town of Ansiao in the North of Portugal to take on our amazing hosts by the name of Amigos Cricket Club where we would battle it out for the Pastel De Nata Trophy.
It has been very special to experience this amazing tour with 11 brilliant players and friends (5 of which all played in our first ever match) as well as our tribe of supporters, otherwise known as the Wide Maiden Army. A weekend that will stay in the memory forever and one that has set a fantastic bench mark for how a tour should be done for every year now on!
“Why do Stevenage Police have Alf’s driving license?”
It’s not the question I expected to hear as we landed in Porto, but looking back, it set the tone for the weekend ahead quite perfectly.
Two hours and a stubby Sagres later we arrived at our tour digs; a traditional Portuguese country manor that could comfortably accommodate all 14 of us (or 38 if you include the Virgin Mary’s).
A brick BBQ in the garden inspired the evening’s food, so the four hungriest lads hopped in the Alfa (not BMW) to stock up on meat, beer, wine, meat, rum, crisps, meat and meat.Enough to last the weekend, we thought.
The early evening was spent getting our eye in with a slightly-too-competitive game of backyard cricket. One-hand-one-bounce quickly developed in to a multi-rule game of actual cricket, which saw all fun replaced with competitive spirit. Talking of spirit. The bottle of rum lasted one night.
It accompanied a fantastic spread of burgers, peri-peri-peri-peri chicken, spicy sausage and a delicious rice salad. The beer and wine flowed. As did the chitter-chatter. Before we knew it we were all best pals and ready for another game of backyard cricket. This time in the dark.
It gets a bit fuzzy after that. Matt and James arrived and settled in at mid on and mid-off.
A great start, but we still didn’t have an explanation for Alf’s license.
All of the booze had also gone.
The sun rose over eleven empty wine bottles and a small Everest of Sagres as eleven less than sharply-focused cricketers rose unsteadily from their beds, the faint memory of a magnificent BBQ still somewhere in the fog, and tried to find their way outside, dodging kittens (where did they come from?) as they scrambled for the hammocks.
Our boys, however, are nothing if not resilient and in no time Alfie had organised a wine-tasting tour (groan!) for a few connaisseurs, whilst the rest high-tailed it off to Coimbra for some culture. On return it was time to think about cricket, the reason we had come here, after all, and prepare for the first match, a 20-20 under lights! How would the boys manage on AstroTurf in a stadium with hangovers? The answer?
Very well, as they played the first of what would turn out to be three gripping,
nay, pulsating matches!
In a game that ebbed and flowed the Knockers showed terrific fighting spirit in
chasing 159, falling four runs short in a closely-fought contest.
Nobody really knew what to expect, but when Clive for Amigos, sent the third ball of the innings for six it was game on. At 44-3 Knockers felt that they were in the mix, however, Chris joined Drew at that point and 87 runs later the pair had put Amigos in a strong position. Nevertheless, Knockers were fielding with skill and agility and they gradually pulled themselves back into the match – a couple of good run-outs and some classy work on the boundaries, plus some intimidating bouncers from Matt in the gloom reined Amigos back in and, despite a super 70 not out from Drew,
Knockers felt in with a chance.
And they set off to chase down 159 calmly and coolly, with skipper Nick setting the tone beautifully. At 30-1 Will joined Nick and the pair put on 97 at a great lick before Nick was calamitously, and, in his mind, controversially given LBW! Knockers had wickets in hand, however, and were edging the contest, before Chris put in a great bowling stint of 5-0-22-1 and Knockers started to get frustrated, with Alf parting company with his bat upon his untimely dismissal! With two overs to go the match was balanced on a knife-edge, but Amigos managed to frustrate Matt’s final assault and ran out winners in a fantastic game.
What a game! More beer, friendly banter, super food followed and,
as it turned out, two more amazing games.
Match 1 of 3: October 11th, 2019 – The Woodlands, Ansiao, Portugal
Amigos – 158 for 7 (25 overs) TKCC – 155 for 5 (25 overs)
RESULT: AMIGOS CC WON BY 3 RUNS // SCORECARD: HERE
The morning of day 3 of any tour was always going to be a struggle both mentally
and physically.
Having gone to bed relatively early to get some valuable shut eye I awoke to the noise
of groans and the words ‘F**K I’m stiff mate’! In some countries that would sound rather dodgy but as we were on tour I let that one go. But as soon I stood up,
I knew exactly what the lads meant.
Holy crap how on earth are we going to play today. Like everyone, bruised and battered
I could barely grab my towel. Breakfast followed… when I say breakfast I mean grab whatever you can find… brie, stale bread and chorizo washed down with a black coffee.
The bus arrived at 10:30am to collect the team. I went with chirpy Chris, who for the whole journey kept on asking me if we had a strong team today. I replied…. ‘We unchanged Chris. that means we are the same 11 people mate’
We lost the toss and the Amigos chose to bat.
A solid bowling start with both openers out cheaply thanks to tight bowling from
Amito and Shahed. Amigos led by their tidy number 3 started to gain the upper hand with boundaries coming regular built a score pass 150.
Enter Dan ‘ Ice Man’ Gibson or Gibbo to his mates. Who bowled with beautiful
control and consistency supported by excellent Lewis at the other end. The runs dried
up and the wickets steadily fell. The Amigos finished 220 for 9.
A sensational lunch followed washed down with a few cold Sagres put us
in good spirits to believe we could knock this score off.
Our openers Alf and Shahed looked solid but didn’t convert their starts. They quickly were followed by Dan who was LBW. Skips was in next and looked in good touch.
A series of 4s followed and it looked like we had steadied the ship. Over to you Lewis… caught first ball. What a howler with the score 40 for 4. I was next.. met by wise words from Skips, ‘it’s not looking good but stick around and let’s see where we are in
a few overs’.
The score nudge up to 75 and we started to believe…. And then Skips pushes one
to mid off straight after drinks. Amit followed then an over later Nipun… both playing let’s just say interesting shots in the context of the game! To recap we’re 105 for 7 needing 115 runs to win. The game slipping away from us.
Next batsman was Matt and just like what happened at Lords for the WC final
an extraordinary run chase between us begun. These days are few and far between and for those in the stands witness something very special. We put on 115 to win the match.
I finished with 112 not out and Matt 24 not out.
Incredible! What a win!!
Surely the best comeback in Top Knockers history.
Match 2 of 3: October 12th, 2019 – The Woodlands, Ansiao, Portugal
Amigos – 221 for 9 (40 overs) TKCC – 224 for 7 (39 overs)
RESULT: TOP KNOCKERS WON BY 3 WKTS // SCORECARD: HERE
As the drizzle descended on Saturday evening, so the grey sky rise on a
blustery Sunday morning. As unstoppable as the mighty turbines above
Pousaflores, the tour rolled on.
The morning routine had now become second nature – engrained into TKCC
souls; the roll out of bed; the growing compound hangover of consecutive
days’ cricket and beer swilling; Sunny’s request for the battery charger;
who snored THIS time? And the precarious decent down a dark staircase of
horrifying gradient. Then throw on the necessaries; be greeted downstairs
with a cup of tea by Laura (excellent work), throw down a bowl of coco-pops
before the inevitable…
Captain Chris arrives with frustrating punctuality at 10am sharp. We bid
farewell to the ladies of the barmy army who didn’t look at all angry to be
left with yet another breakfast bombshell to tidy up. They hid their
irritation upon our departure as well as they hid their boredom during the
match, and for that they all surely deserve outstanding performances of the
tour.
Toss pre agreed by Nick and Captain Chris in during the journey to the
ground – we would for the first time bat first…
An Unwelcome Surprise
Upon a drizzly arrival, outstepped the dishevelled TKCC crusaders, casting
bleary eyes across now familiar ground. Though, something was different…
fresh faces.
The Amigos team looked disappointingly fresh and feisty on Sunday morning.
Especially odd as they must have been up all night trawling through their
little black book of Portuguese players, since low and behold there were two
young ringers warming up in the nets *eyeroll*. It transpired Rahul and
Shani were two T20 specialists who didn’t mind travelling up from Lisbon at
4am to make sure they had ample time to warm up *eyeroll*. They were fast,
and probably expensive.
The Batting
The decision to bat first was simple; we were exhausted and hungover.
Luckily, since our valiant skipper had carefully studied and finally found
the weakness of the opposition captain (begging), Captain Chris had played
into our hands and consented to our request. The match had not yet begun and
we were already one victory up; all was going to plan *wink*.
Strangely, the night’s rain had done nothing to soften the astroturf pitch
or hamper its supernatural bounce. The Amigos’ bowling line up had been
strengthened by the new members’ pace, but one should not underplay their
elders’ consistency. As in previous matches, they kept things rather tight.
The standout batting partnership from yesterday (Will and Matt) were due to
bring up the rear, which suited them both as they seemed to pick up injuries
like wombles do litter.
Alf, visibly shaken from the news his bosom-buddy
Les-the-sharp-tongued-Aussie-wicketkeeper had hung up his boots for the
weekend, put his broken heart behind him (professional) and rose to the
occasion building an excellent partnership with Sunny as openers. Alf began
by playing second fiddle to Sunny who drove through the V beautifully
scoring 28, before edging one to the slips. Alf then took centre stage,
joining James and finally Lewis at the crease, when Sunny decided enough was
enough and triggered him for LBW. After a short TMO review the decision was
sportingly quashed by Stubbsy, their mid-off. Bat-to-pad was undeniable, Alf
recalled, Sunny ashen-faced. Alf fell eventually to Shani (magic ringer) for
62 and Lewis went on to score a highly reasonable 36, 36 more than the
previous day.
Experts in the cricketing world would describe what followed as a
‘collapse’. Nipun fell early. The skipper ran himself out for 3, Shahed hit
a brace of fours before Shani *eyeroll* splayed his stumps. Amit and Matt
steadied the ship with a partnership of 19 before both being dismissed by
ringer Shani *eyeroll*. Finally, the job of tickling a few more out of the
total fell to Will and Dan. Will had been promised a quiet morning and
looked like he needed it. After moaning about his sore foot for basically
for the whole innings, Will rose and did what he does best. He scored a
quick couple then as the final delivery was due, a call from the bleachers
echoed “send it to the moooooooooon,” Will duly did so with a straight drive
over the bowlers bonce – six of the best. 191 runs for 5 wickets.
Lunch
Knockers stayed vigilant as finally they cottoned on the impressive quality
and quantity of lunch offered was but another divisive tactic to slow us
down in the forthcoming innings. Two soups, array of sandwiches and a
triumph of cakes/deserts calmed the nerves before the final showdown.
Half Time Plot Update
Behind the scenes, Knockers weren’t feeling confident they’d scored enough.
Not a full blown disaster, but equally we had definitely left quite a few
runs (and the glorious Pastel da Nata) on the table. The series was for the
Amigos’ taking.
The Bowling
It was clear that if the Knockers were to win this match they would have to
be ruthlessly efficient with their bowling and fielding. And so Amit led
the charge:
*That* first ball: Amit charged headlong into the wind, his black curls
billowing. Every sinew and muscle in his right arm was taught. Primed. As
he released the virgin delivery of the innings – this missile of intent –
silence fell across the forest. At breakneck speed, it swung in
ever-so-slightly, yorking a bewildered Clive and cartwheeled all three
stumps (actually happens every time). The silence broke simultaneously from
all directions. All Knockers raucously celebrated, but none more than
Nipun, whose earlier duck had been surpassed by one of the golden/king/ruby
variety, and therefor avoided the downing the duck of regret! The mood was
set.
I will spare the reader a blow by blow breakdown of every ball, however all
leather-flingers kept their economies below 6 an over, with Nipun keeping
them to 2.5 (if you ignore the extras!). The story of the bowling attack
was consistency: Amit (6O, 1W, 1M), Alf (7O, 1M), Dan (6O, 2W), Lewis (6O,
1W, 2M), Nipun (2O, 1M), Soulman James (1O), with special mention to Wolfman
Shahed (7O, 4W, 2M). Tight.
Keeping it tight and tidy in the field:
The field seemed a little larger on day 3 and Knockers’ legs seemed a little
shorter. However the bowlers’ performances seemed to inspire our finest
fielding performance of the tour. We became a fielding team possessed and
with every run saved we came closer to the Pastel da Nata. This was showing
and even the Amigos began to applaud the dives and saves across the field.
It pains your writer to draw attention to his own modest skills, but it
would be remiss not to mention that he was accosted by one of the
opposition at the drinks break who had developed “a little bit of a man
crush” due to the fielding finesse witnessed. Let me tell you ladies and
gents, when a man on the run from the UK authorities tells you he likes the
way you handle balls and “every time you run past him a bit of wee comes
out,” you don’t muck about – you say ‘thank you very much’ and get back out
to square leg pronto.
As the overs slipped away from the Amigos it became clear they would
struggle to catch our 191. With the Barmy Army in joyous spirits, Nipun and
James finished off the overs, leaving the Amigo tail enders with little to
work with. TKCC win by 33 runs, and are clapped off the field by a
congratulating Amigo throng.
There was a lot of love in the changing room after the game. Giggles, towel
whipping and soap dropping had become common place, but as the changing room
cleared for the final time two Knockers left behind had become particularly
complimentary, “I bet Iceman (Dan) shags a lot of birds,” “Yeah, I bet he’s
really good at making love.” No evidence has been uncovered to refute this
as we go to press.
A riotous award ceremony followed, with Alf, Will, Shahed, Dan, Amit, Lewis, Heather and Phil picking up gongs for their outstanding performances. We were treated to yet
another fabulous spread, dining pitch-side with our new Amigos. Fittingly,
our last moments at the Woodlands ground were spent eating drinking and
planning our rematch. Once a series of heartfelt thankyous to the Amigo
players, supporters and expert chefs was completed the TKCC crusaders headed
back to the villa training complex for decompression. Job done.
With such warm hospitality at the ground, the only regret of the tour is
that we didn’t carve out enough time to do justice to TKCC’s own tour awards
that evening. With special thanks to Alf for putting these together, the
most notable performances of the tour are awarded as below:
Match 3 of 3: October 13th, 2019 – The Woodlands, Ansiao, Portugal
TKCC – 191 for 9 (35 overs) AMIGOS – 158 for 9 (35 overs)
RESULT: TOP KNOCKERS WON BY 33 RUNS // SCORECARD: HERE
Still buzzing from #ThatWeekend #Tour… Just clinging on to the memories for dear life…
Hope this makes you smile as I am now, inhaling coffee from my Amigo’s mug in the back of my uber through rush hour traffic…
Yes – you guessed it – its the summary from Sunday Night….
TKCC Inaugural Tour Awards List
1/ Shredded Wheat Moment of Madness – Alphonz: Dissent #Baaaaaaat
(Nick and Matt Run Outs the other nominees)
2/ Best Dressed Tourist – Mrs Heather Berry
(2nd place = Sunny’s Saturday Night Shirt)
3/ Bowling (Lead wicket taker) – Shahed “Wolfie” Ahmed
(Runner-Up Dan “The Ice Man” Gibson accepted award on Shahed’s behalf)
4/ BattingLevers / – John “Iberico” Bercow (AKA Will Freeland) – The greatest knock Alphonso has ever seen in 15 million games of cricket #Orderrrrrrrrrrr)
(Runner Up = Skipper #Consistent #RightHandedDavidGower)
5/ Best Actor in a Supporting Role – Matt: Saturday Partnership & Unbeaten all week
#RedInker #Asterisk
(Runner up = Amit aka The Kuala Lumpur Express, Bowling)
6/ Champagne Moment – By 5 votes to 4 – Amit: Cliveos’ King Duck
(Runner up = Levers/Iberico: nominated twice for final over heroics and Sunday’s final ball maximum 😂😂😂 #SendItToTheMoon
7/ Cava Moment = Phil’s catch on Day 1
(first genuine wicket of tour (not Les’s shocking dropped chance run out )
Earlier this Summer was my stag do, and lucky enough for me, my best man, brother and TKCC express train bowler Jamie arranged a cricket match at the famous and stunning Valley of the rocks home of Lynton & Lynmouth Cricket Club in Coombe Martin.
We had the whole pitch for the day and had a stag cricket match including TKCC regulars Sunny Sahota (#10), Jamie Berry (#12), Amit Dave (#4), Phil Berry (#20), Neal Lamont (#22) and Henry Williams (#30).
Below is a selection of fantastic photos taken by Jim Minhas of The Traps (@TheTraps) fame.
Countryside landscape of sunset in Combe Marten, Devon UK
