|
|
 | Fixture Details | |  | | |
Home | Return to Division Fixtures
| Division: |
Division 3 |
| Home Team: |
Dorking 1 |
| Away Team: |
Purley 2 |
| Date: | 08 Dec 2010 (confirmed) |
|---|
| Time: | 07:30 pm |
|---|
| Verified: | 17 Dec 2010 by M Aldridge |
|---|
| Report: | Dorking 1 v Purley 2 Home 8th December 2010 Author: Kenevil Returns
Scottie recently has renounced being a cricket fan and so Super Si slid the question “What about rugby?” And so some might say when…….when life hands you lemons, make lemonade………..the wild man of Borneo yaks: bring over a bottle of Tequila and salt to my place and let’s suck the ……..m f’s.
Having cruised a credible 4-1 victory against the wimbledonians a fortnight ago, tonight’s match against title contenders Purley would prove to be a mouth watering contest.
First on court, sporting a new outfit in black was the division nemesis Hitman Hutton. In the first game, HR awesomeness was cruel in a demolishing display of power and strength. Mark Aldridge was left scampering and punch drunk, a rare site in someone accustomed to reading the game with exceptional anticipation. After registering just 4 points in the first two games, Aldridge showed he was no fool relinquishing one point in the 3rd game and turning the hitman into a misfiring hatman. In the next game, Ben 10 increased the voltage duffing up the vet and taking the match 3-1 (9-1, 9-3, 1-9, 9-5).
On the adjacent court, my time had come. There was no hiding behind the apron; I was up against a vet Paul Edkin. I became a little worried when spot uttered that he could run all night and the minimum expected was a win. Taking the first game quite comfortably, early in the second game, a banished forgotten memory trace was reactivated. A wave of utter exhaustion and protracted inhalations consumed me. The dark side had returned in the form of Darth. What the bleeding heck was going on. My mind said Moove but the body said no way. Muscle atrophy had humbled my confidence and footwork. Taking the match 3-0 it was a lucky escape (9-2, 9-4, 9-2). I had to hack an ugly win. But I didn’t care, before I knew it, I found myself sitting at the bar with a beer in my hand, hearing stories of Surfer’s paradise, Botham chinning Chappell and Dedly’s planned trip to the WACA. Jezzerbell commented later, that with all the huffing and puffing, it looked like I was trying to enact a child’s fable of the 3 little pigs.
With Dorking going 2-0 up on the night a salivatory contest was about to begin. Stuart v Stuart. What a showdown. Up on the balcony, fresh from invoking New England Rules was chairman Bob and H. On to the court swaggered and stomped the hottest thing to come out of Sussex (sorry Ben..it’s not your girlfriend).
Stuart Wiley, Allcock’s opponent is the real McCoy mixing talent, determination, amazing court coverage with a …solid physic. With a never say die attitude, the big man could quite possible be an honoree convict. At a fever pitch pace, the match started with deep tight powerful rallying from both parties. The master of the backhand volley drop, Wiley snatched the first game 9-6. But Allcock was having none of this losing business, in true Boris Becker style he came out of the closet to exhibit sensational diving retrievals, pumped up the jam and leveled at one a piece. Wiley turned on a powerhouse of deep penetration mixed up with exquisite drops. But it wasn’t enough; serving for the match at 8-7 and 2-1 up the pup looked to the balcony alcove checking for cheer leaders with tight skirts on, found none and looked back down again. Dorking needed another victory to secure the extra 4 points.
Dave’s match was so quick against Stuart Parish, supplementary Wiki leaks were needed. It was a simple clinical execution with a precision shot making. It was a 3-0 romping (9-7, 9-1, 9-4) making short work of his opponent. Hot as supernova bouncing back from electron degeneracy pressure, bring on Dickson while the ozy is still holding a scalpel! The bunker has been rebuilt with reinforced steel. End of.
On court 1, Super Si was up against Captain Crimson’s summer conqueror Paul James. Whilst marking the Stuarts, I heard cries of “sloth”, “wasteful”, “Don’t be stupid” and “Christ…you’re beating yourself”. As you can imagine things were not going well. Simon was up against an equally talented very fit version of himself, Paul was dispatching his own “old Faithfull’s”. Wearing Simon’s old prince shoes, Paul moved like lightening and had the upper hand on a slightly off night for the Maestro. Even with steely determination it wasn’t going to be the bedrell group squash jersey wearing Loxy’s night. It wasn’t even goosey loosey. On the night, Si succumbed an impressive 3-0 beating (9-6, 9-6, 9-3) from an awesome Purley recruit. No one does that to the Maestro without talent eking from every pore of cutaneous covering.
Ben had now marked two match’s whilst the Stuarts were imparting their reign. Wiley was proving too juicy for the young lad. Wiley scrapped and scraped for every last bit of energy and leveled the match at 8-8 in the 5th. The close contest went to Purley 3-2 (9-6, 6-9, 6-9, 10-8, 10-8). Sa blah boom wha! It was a phenomenally staggering feast of awesome squash. Well done to both players.
Enjoying a pot of chicken with tatters at the match meal, I can report to the dispatched Sultan Jokes of Doug the rug, and Warney’s hair clinic. The Purley boys like to be well watered and were great company.
When living in Australia, I once heard that the MCG was the home of cricket and stupidly repeated it…..I was woken up from my stupid daydream by a proud pommy to remind me that……there is only one home of cricket Kubli…Lord’s my dear chap is the home of cricket you ½ wit. Com se com sa!
Match reporter: Kubo Kenevil
|
|---|
| Author: | Mark Kubli |
|---|
| Away Report: | |
|---|
| Author: | M Aldridge |
|---|
| |  |  |  |
|
