Home > Tales from the Meadows > Blood on the Wicket

Cricket grounds are found in the unlikeliest of places. Prior to competing in the GMCL we played in the North Manchester Cricket League (NMCL), a haven for misfits, mongrels and clubs with nowhere else to go. From grounds attached to former industrial sites to school playing fields, few locations were off limits. In the case of the former High View CC, their home turf was located atop a housing estate off the A666 between Bolton and Darwen. The club was aptly named, two sides of the ground offering a panoramic view of the hills and mills to the north of Bolton.

Encounters between TSJCC and High View were notoriously competitive, with both teams regularly in the hunt for league honours and little love lost between the players. For the purposes of this story, we're going to recap three memorable incidents which took place in the 1990s and early 2000s before the club unfortunately folded.

Our dear former captain Baz Kinsey features in the first anecdote, one which anyone present will likely never forget. On this occasion we batted first and scored in the region of 140, the innings notable mainly for the stalwart Les Howarth striding to the crease for the final ball of the innings, smiting it for six and then striding off bat under arm as if this was the simplest game in the world. On the face of it, 140 doesn't sound a lot, but in those days wickets were notoriously poor and with our bowling attack we usually felt confident of defending anything over three figures.

Unfortunately we hadn't reckoned with High View's dastardly tactic of opening the batting with former local league professional Ray Eccleshare and an absolute monster of a human, Graham Hannaford. This Aussie was built like a mythical blacksmith, his forearms bigger than most people's thighs (not that we go round staring at thighs as such, it's a literary comparison after all). Anyway, it soon became clear that 140 might not be enough, probably 340 might have been in danger the way these two set off clubbing the ball to all parts.

Baz found himself at long off for the Doc's bowling, a position very rarely seen in those days but completely necessary the way the colossal Aussie was tonking everything. Anyway, one ball was struck like a tracer bullet about three feet off the ground and it's no word of a lie to say that ball didn't even appear to be affected by gravity as it remained three feet off the ground as it headed straight at our former skipper. Well Baz decided that it was more than his life's worth to remain in the path of the ball so decided to sidestep to his right. The ball decided to defy the laws of physics at this point and curved towards him again. Once more Baz moved out of the ball's path only to see it continue to lock onto his position like a lethal homing pigeon. By the time Baz had moved again he was now at the top of the hill which fell away quite sharply beneath him. No matter, Baz took off and as the ball screamed over the boundary for six, the last thing we saw was the top of Baz's head as he shot down the slope at full pelt, accompanied by the sounds of hysterics from the rest of the team.

If that wasn't amusing enough, the second incident comes from the same game and features one of our favourite Totty stars, Andy Schofield. A contemporary of Rowdy and Steve Moriarty, Scoffer was a wholehearted and much loved member of the team and would usually come on in the later overs of an innings to clean up the tail with Mozzer. One preseason, Scoffer decided to develop what affectionately became known as the "backhander", an outrageous slower ball bowled out of the back of the hand but which spun wickedly on pitching. Well it did on the few occasions it landed anyway.

As the duo of Eccleshare and Hannaford closed in on their target, Scoffer was brought on, and several of us encouraged him to give the backhander a try. It hadn't really been match-tested, but at this point we were desperate to try anything to get a breakthrough. So with the mighty Aussie on strike Scoffer ran in and chucked up his special delivery. To cut a shortish story even shorter, that ball is probably still travelling now - Hannaford piled in and clattered the biggest six any of us had ever seen, the ball landing somewhere along the A666, perhaps in Darwen itself some miles away. Absolute hysterics reigned again.

Obviously we didn't take a wicket and the game was over in 13 overs!

Our final story from High View comes a few years later, at a time when we were pretty much the best side in the league and regularly scrapping for the title with our old friends from Catholic Club. Our bowling attack was bolstered by Ashley Parkinson, a real devil with ball in hand and known for his very slippery bouncer and sharp barbs. We were desperately trying to get the last couple of wickets to round off a close victory, and Ash had no compunction whatsoever at bouncing one of the lower order batsmen, who had been resisting us for a few overs. To the discomfort of many of us fielding close by, one delivery reared sharply and struck the player directly in the face. He sank to his knees as we ran up to console him.

If you've ever hit someone as a bowler, there's a whole torrent of emotions you can go through, from anxiety to regret to dare I say an occasional feeling of satisfaction, particularly if the batsman has been giving you some stick. On this occasion the batsman had been hanging on for dear life, had said absolutely nothing, and we were naturally concerned as blood began to pour from his nose. Never one to show his softer side on the pitch, Ash eventually strolled down and knelt down in front of the stricken player.

"Excuse me, mate," said Ash, "any chance you could move, you're bleeding on the wicket!"

Happy days.