Was it Morrissey that said ‘Heaven knows I’m miserable now’? Just who is Humbug these days and why have I got so much competition? There are two outstanding competitors for my title, Stevie Sailor and Dave Walnut. Now don’t get me wrong, both are really nice chaps but there just is no room for three of us. It is my handle and I jealously guard it. I wonder if it is a co-incidence that we are all long-suffering members of Hurley with about 90 years service between us. Maybe curmudgeons need to mature like a fine wine. Pop our cork and we flow nicely with a rather strange bouquet.

I like to think I can still hold the crown, whether it is making sure Gordon Bentarm knows he owes me a beer, or musing on the lost glory days of the mid 90’s champions and famous tours to Bridlington and Weston, or ordinary opposition club cricketers mimicking what they see on telly. I can get grumpy when we lose, when we draw, if it rains, if it is cold, children, dogs, leaving empty cups on my table, wasps, demise of the lady scorer, any scorer, lateness, and missing out on the doughnuts. It maybe the realisation that as you get older, life tends to take more than it gives. Phew. The recurring theme amongst cricketers is the single moan of not getting a proper game with bat or ball, cricket is unique in being a team game played by individuals and to a large extent measured by individual statistics. I, on the other hand can moan about a wide range of topics. Maybe we should all be grateful we can enjoy beautiful afternoons in a lovely setting, with good friends, fabulous teas and good beer, and not too much running about.

I was always told to finish one to one meetings in an upbeat fashion. Erm… I suppose as I started with Morressey, I finish with Ian Dury ‘Reasons to be cheerful 1-2-3’. 1. Red Kites 2. Friends (not Facebook ‘friends’) – bit of a grump there 3. Val’s teas, before Dave Walnut and Mike Coalshed have had a go.

By the way, check out the match report 2XI versus the well good Southall Dragons, LOL. It is like awesome scribble from Tom or Vicky Pollard I fink. It almost broke into English! The bar has been set a little higher, and I might have to give up.

Oh well, better try to get a couple of blogs in this month so as not to disappoint my reader. As I gazed on the Spitfire doing loops over the Thames a couple of Saturdays ago and dwelled on the few, WW2 pilots that is, not Hurley regulars, I thought about all the noble acts that go unrecognised or just forgotten. Well, it distracted me temporarily from the clichés and jive coming from Hamersham Mill. While I am talking of selfless acts could a few more people offer to buy Val a drink after games, the amount she puts into the club is truly astonishing and we should never take it for granted. Also, if I didn’t mention the many others that put in so much, they would feel unappreciated, not least the colts coaches trying to lay a better foundation for the club. The recent bbq and beer tasting would not have been so successful without the colts and their parents and of course Mike and his sausages and Rita and her baps and Caroline who did teas and helped with the food. With no Prof in the Team there was food left over, though the Lards did their best.

We still struggle for numbers but despite our depleted resources, the Saturday 2XI have seen a resurgence while the 1XI are batting sensibly and picked up a much needed win at home to White Waltham and an unruffled draw at Pinkneys chasing a big total. An excellent Team effort though Roy (of the Rovers) hauled them over the line once more. Dropping uncomplicated catches however is becoming a weekly treat for opposition batsmen. Fortunately this week’s was not costly but it did fuel a few more nervous overs for me. Credit for the excellent catches we did hold. The win gave me particular satisfaction as one of the opposition applauded mis-fields, they forget I’m sat there and can hear every unkind word. I even cracked a smile at Veg calling Ross ‘wee man’; Kettles and Pots, Veggie. Brilliant team spirit and the shout of jubilation from the home dressing room carried across the Thames and startled a few cows. Still, a win is like cricketing Viagra, quickens the blood, makes one look forward to Saturday’s treat, and can Naeem can get a team up (that’s not a euphemism)!