Andy King (Rammell 1976)
The only relevant tales that I can remember from Lynxes cricket were either being bored by some bloke called Barlow, or just being amazed that a medium paced Ginger could take so many wickets with so much dross. Fortunately, Tim Spelling does not know what I really think of him, as I have always tried to ingratiate myself to him to avoid spending the afternoon running from long leg to long leg each over! Never liked the chap frankly....

'A One-Eyed View' The final of what we would all like to think of as the Cricketer Cup, was in fact named after a rag I do not think any of us had heard of let alone read. I think it went under the catchy title of The World of Cricket. We played against a decent Old Boys team - I cannot even remember who they were except they had a guy called Zubin playing for them. If I recall correctly, he was snared by a Spelling shooter, or top spinner as he called it. I had to bat at number 6 and spent most of the afternoon watching Marshall G grinding out the mostappalling 70 odd (did he hit one off the square?) putting time pressure on all the talented middle and lower order batsmen and elegant stroke makers. I came in only for the final few overs and made one of the finest two ball ducks in Lynxes history - a negligible but significant contribution to our total of 180 ish. Not enough by 50 or 60 we thought whilst grazing through tea. How wrong were we! As an opposition, following the unlucky demise of their talisman Zubin, they were cruelly exposed as a one-man team by our hostile attack. Thus, they were well short of our far from imposing total and it remained only for the tail to be mopped up. Some of this onerous task fell to yours truly, and it was my pleasure to take
the victory clinching wicket (their number eleven), Whilst I wish I could say that he was aTest match quality number 6, he was, in fact, a genuine number 11. One could say not even a number 11- as he obviously struggled to identify which end of the bat to use. Whilst he was holding the thicker end of the willow, he tentatively pushed forward at one of my bombs and what he hoped was the thud of ball on bat handle was the sound of timber behind him! What did for him was the darting inswing, the ball gathering pace off the wicket to flash at high
speed (59 mph) between bat and pad and wrench his middle peg out of the ground. Did I mention that he only had one eye? To my disgust Marshall won the MoM award....
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