To the Oval! For the final time this season! Wearing four layers!
I rocked up at SE11 and took my place in the Peter May sun trap. It was GLORIOUS S Ldn weather. There was even some fella in the OCS (ALWAYS the OCS) who was bare chested.
Whatever did happen to the Hairy Back Man of The Oval?
This was a BATTING DAY for the ‘rrey. And preferably all day if we were to stand any chance of picking up any bonus points and a draw as the Championship title race closes in.
The Skipper and the Vicar of Sibley were the men for the job
Block. Leave. Block. Cheeky single.
Repeat every over.
Thank Gawd the school kids weren’t in the ground today. This was a game for the purists. It was almost enough to convert you as a flag waver for the horrid Hundred.
I had arranged this visit as a potential Championship winning moment. With the Essex slags keeping up to their side of the deal over in Chelmsford, the champagne was on ice for the ‘rrey.
The ground looked magnificent. The drainage at The Oval is remarkable, given the Biblical overnight downpour. Parts of the wicket even looked parched.
The Peter May Boys had their own informal presentation in the sun terrace at luncheon. It seemed to be more of a personal celebration that everyone had survived another season.
Surrey never looked like losing a wicket all day. The Skipper had the occasional flash drive - VERY occasionally. The Vicar was resolute.
What a way to win a Championship.
I joined the healthy crowd on the pitch during the tea interval for a few snaps. Some fella was wandering around in his bare feet. I thought of Tizon and his OCD reaction. I shared his concerns.
The forecast rain was delayed. My fifth pint came earlier than expected.
Chin chin.
And then shortly after 4pm, the clouds darkened and the two Captains shook hands. That will be that for another season. I’ve enjoyed the past six months watching all formats of the game - some more so than others.