This is the continuation of the previous story, 'Cringe', regarding the game of cricket and having weathered a series of short deliveries which I found impossible to score off.

As the Captain, I felt obligated to play at each ball and attempt to anchor the non-strikers end, leaving it to Ian Toogood push the run rate along.

Given that I now know a duck was looming I found the task difficult.

This was also a difficult situation for the balance of the team as they were seeing the most reliable of our batting line up getting pummelled and bruised at the hands of this intimidatory bowling.

The easy way out was to “throw” my wicket away, leaving it to another of my team mates to try to swing the game our way.  How was this to be done?  I could not see an answer.

The answer was blatantly obvious.  I needed to get the bit between my teeth and attempt to defend my wicket as there was no sign of a high score.

Ian and I batted on for the best part of the afternoon, only to be trapped in front of the stumps and a confident cry of “Howzat!”

The appeal was of course an LBW.

The umpire for the day deliberated on his decision, long and hard, to make up his mind.  By that time in the afternoon my left shin bone was starting to throb after the bruising bowling I’d endured. 

I had to hold my ground courageously, though it was only a cricket match.

I was hoping that the Umpire would give me out as I could then walk off the ground with courage and dignity, not just give my wicket away and walk off the ground.

The Umpire eventually gave me out and I was secretly relieved.
 
--------------------
I had experienced this situation a previous week, not realizing what a battering I had taken as the opening batsman.
 
In those days it was quite common for school teachers to wear shorts to work.  This particular Monday I was wearing shorts.  I could not work out why people were looking at my legs, just above the knee, as I walked down the school corridor.

Then it dawned on me!  It was the bruising from another short delivery episode.
 

Godfrey Marple,
October 2015  

‘Cringe’ is not a word in my every day language, so ideas as to its usage do not come readily. 

In order to open up the conversation, I needed to have a clear definition of the meaning of the word.  The Australian Pocket Dictionary defines the word ‘cringe’ as, to flinch in fear, or to behave in a submissive way.

Fear or submission recalls an experience when playing cricket.

Several years ago I played cricket for Molyullah.  Only Section Three cricket – nevertheless, the intensity of the competition was just as fierce. My task was to open the batting.  We were not oversupplied with talent and as I was the captain I had to make a brave and determined start in the batting order.

Molyullah’s opponent for this particular round of the cricket fixture was St Joseph’s Cricket Club. 

St Joseph’s had the distinct advantage of being able to field two sides in the competition – a Section One side and a Section Three side.  This meant that if St Joseph’s had more players than required for the Section One side the surplus would spill over into the Section Three side, boosting the standard of their lesser side.

The venue for the game was the old High School ground in Witt Street, Benalla.  With fine, sunny weather conditions everything was set for a good performance. 

The St Joseph’s Section Three cricket team was captained by Rod Potter.   I had worked with Rod for a number of years and helped him build the Elders Pastoral livestock business in the Benalla district.  Perhaps because of this friendship I had incorrectly gauged the situation in regards to the spirit of the match.

St Joseph’s cricket team selectors had two spare bowlers for this game, so they must have thought that Molyullah were no pushover.

My run rate for the current series wasn’t anything to rave about, but my batting partner, Ian Toogood, had played cricket in Melbourne.  Ian was the local schoolteacher in Molyullah and could make 100 runs on most weekends.

My job for the afternoon was to make sure I wasn’t dismissed early in our innings while Ian piled on the runs at the other end.  We had completed this task several times during the year and thought all we had to do was to turn up, make sure we were not dismissed early and keep the pressure on the St. Joseph’s bowlers. 

Before the game started I noticed Rod Potter talking to one of his team.  They appeared to be discussing the pitch, with Rod pointing to a section of the pitch about half-way down.   This team member turned out to be the opening bowler.  What Potter was instructing him to do was to bowl short of a length so that the ball would rear up about head high.

This bowler was clearly sent out to play in this game with the intention of intimidating the Molyullah batting line up!

I spent the first over trying to dodge and weave to get out of the road and avoid being hit on the head. 
I made a duck that day – the first for the season.

So I could claim that I was guilty of cringeing from intimidatory bowling. 
____________________________
 
(Or, as group member David suggested, from ‘Body line’ bowling!)
 
 
Godfrey Marple, October 2015