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Only Game of Season 2013/14
Saturday 15th March, 2014
Conditions: Overcast, Still & Humid
Toss: Invitational Team (elected to field)
Result: HIBS Old Boys won by 89 Runs
Man of the Match: Luke Williams
Saturday 15th March, 2014
Conditions: Overcast, Still & Humid
Toss: Invitational Team (elected to field)
Result: HIBS Old Boys won by 89 Runs
Man of the Match: Luke Williams
"McHugh, Williams and Rose made batting look like a cakewalk, and only their mercy spared the Invitation team from complete annihilation. Although Fletcher's lone stand was mightily impressive, he had to come from too far behind to win it by himself."
Last year’s series at the Rosebowl had begun promisingly enough, with Game I seeing a plucky Porirua victory against the odds. This was followed by the Hutt Valley flexing their might with a commanding performance in Game II. We had a dream finale in the offing – a mouth-watering decider for this landmark season to celebrate 10 years of Haywards Shield cricket.
Porirua duly arrived at the ground with a side steeped in Shield battle. Names like Denman, Rose, McHugh and Spencer had played in epic contests too numerous to list. But who could be found to participate in such a momentous game from the Hutt Valley? In yesteryear, players would have been breaking down the door to participate and ink their name into the record books. But no.
The official record will show that a close match was played, and the side wearing Hutt Valley colours won the game and with it, the series. But it was a side bereft of the true feeling of what it means to don the red, white and blue. Their sole ties to the Hutt Valley that day lay in one player – Luke Williams – who captained a side of gentlemen drawn not from the mean streets of Petone, Heretaunga and Brown Owl – but from wherever they could they be found.
With the tally of runs resting in their favour, The Shield was duly handed over to Williams and the others invited to play, but it was clear the game no longer represented competition between Porirua and the Hutt Valley. And so, with a heavy heart, the Haywards Shield was pronounced dead at the Rosebowl on 16 February 2013. The remains of its spirit were cremated. The fruits of victory, even for the Hutt Valley faithful, were like ashes in their mouths.
Still, the great game of cricket has survived far worse - the Spanish Flu, World Wars, Great Depressions, and the Underarm to name a few. The fire of Rosebowl cricket would not be extinguished so easily. And so, rising like a phoenix from these charred remains of the Haywards Shield, a new flame flickered. This year, old boys from Hutt International Boys School would unite in a single team, to face a team of invitational players to reclaim The Ashes.
The ground was hard and dry, the grass short and brown - but the air was thick with tropical humidity. Cyclone Lusi was bearing down on New Zealand from the north, and the fear was it could be a race against time for the game to be completed. The Invitational Team won the toss, and decided to field. A decision which seemed strange, as this track looked a batsman’s paradise.
Out strode two old Porirua stalwarts – Nathan Rose and Jason McHugh, both flying the flag with their old colours. Fletcher to bowl. Rose took a single to get off the mark first ball, allowing McHugh to also get into his work with four runs down the ground.
The overs ticked by, the occasional boundary was like a nugget of hokey-pokey amongst a partnership of delicious vanilla cricket shots to defend and take singles when on offer. The partnership built. As iron sharpened iron, so too did one man sharpen the other. Rose was playing to his strength on the on-side with excellent placement, while McHugh was content to hit along the ground, with offside shots to die for.
Due to last minute withdrawls, Nathan Rose’s father Kim had been conscripted to the Invitational team. The only time the younger Rose looked troubled at the crease was when facing the elder and his “unusual” bowling action. Getting out to his Dad would be something he would simply never live down – and Nathan’s heart was certainly brought midway up his esophagus as his had to survive a decent LBW shout – but rolled with the punches and survived.
As the opening partnership confidently pushed well past 50, the Invitational attack looked bereft of ideas. Finally, in the 9th over, Rose attempted to sweep but was early on the shot. The leading edge ballooned sky-high for Fletcher to take at short mid-on in his follow-through. Unfortunately for the Invitation team, the openers had prepared the perfect soil and planted the seed for a big total. With Williams now joining McHugh, they were about to reap what had been sown – and it sure as hell wasn’t corn.
Williams knows only one way – merciless all-out attack. The man who they took the greatest toll of was Black, who was struggling with his line and length. On a couple of occasions, the ball bounced awfully short from the delivery, with Williams merrily skipping down the track to dispatch it on the second bounce.
McHugh had previously never gone past 50 in Rosebowl Cricket, but today he was having a field day. His ratio of fours-to-sixes told the story of a man who was determined to put a price on his wicket. Still, he was lucky to not fall for 92 when a chance went high but over the head of the fieldsman at mid-wicket. He brought up the ton with a pump of his fist and a primal roar of delight – a reaction more than understandable for a man who had waited so long to take his rightful place amongst the century club, given his undoubted talent.
Hot on his heels, and not to be outdone, was Williams. What more can really be written about the way he goes about his batting that hasn’t been already said? Brutal, long sixes contrasted with McHugh’s placement and elegance along the carpet. The total was multiplying faster than loaves and fishes, and the declaration was nigh. Told there would be just one over left to do as much damage as possible, Williams decided to throw the kitchen sink at Young with another four sixes, who until then had been the pick of the bowlers.
The HIBS Old Boys had 219 on the board, with only one wicket down. Spencer didn’t even need to bat. The game was reduced to a single innings affair with bodies growing weary and the prospect of the post-match barbeque tantilising the nostrils of all concerned (or was that the smell of The Ashes?).
Rose opened the attack with his runup beginning from almost the boundary fence as he attempted to get the maximum out of a pitch offering little assistance to the bowlers. In his first over, this perceived pace hurried onto Fletcher producing a miscue towards mid-on. McHugh had the catch covered running in from the boundary, but Rose called the catch for himself on his follow through with his eyes pointed to the sky. A despairing dive failed, and a horrible mixup in communication had given the Invitation Team their first life.
McHugh, however, made amends by snaring Young when it was turn at the bowling crease with edge behind as Young tried the hook shot. Young nearly walked, but decided he would roll the dice much like Virat Kohli in the Basin Reserve test only a couple of weeks earlier. His sartorial splendor in cricket whites masked a wolf in sheeps clothing – but eventually the umpire recognised Young’s lupine nature made the decision in favour of the HIBS Old Boys.
In his second over, Rose continued to steam in. Bowling to Fletcher, one of the most remarkable things ever to happen on this famous ground happened – following a clean miss of a ball on-target with the woodwork, this cricket writer swears (supported by the umpire) that the ball went in between the stumps! What the hootenanny?! It was verified shortly afterwards that the act was possible, although required absolutely precise placement, a few millimeters either side and the bales would have tumbled. Rose was spitting chips, but the wicket was not down.
Black had looked uneasy during his stay at the crease – possibly underdone from too long in Germany, a nation not noted as a cricketing powerhouse. Consequently, when Williams came on to bowl, it was like fishing with dynamite. First Black was bowled for 8, and just two balls later Kim Rose departed without scoring to a simple return catch. It looked as though the Invitational challenge was bound for the knackers yard with three down and plenty of runs still to get.
Surely it would only be a matter of time until the final wicket would fall. But Fletcher had other ideas. Attacking shots against first Spencer, then Rose and McHugh paid handsome dividends. Fletcher, sound of mind and stout of heart was playing the innings of his life – scoring all around the ground in a display that was first about restoring respectability, then about creating personal satisfaction in a loss… but after a time, it dawned that the HIBS Old Boys may in fact be getting concerned. Runs were being knocked off very quickly in an innings that came from nowhere - indeed, it seemed so unlikely that Kim Rose and Black themselves decided to take an early shower rather than watch what was unfolding.
Fletcher’s placement was sublime. He went aerial, sure, but wherever the HIBS Old Boys put fielders is where he didn’t put the ball. The only potential chance in this spell was when Rose was too far in from the fence off the bowling of McHugh – the ball dropping over his head for four more in Harper’s Corner.
But the HIBS Old Boys were not to be denied from the Ashes they see as rightfully theirs. Williams, who had been the pick of the bowlers and man of the match, wrote the final act of the game by bowling Fletcher one excruciating run short of what would have been an epic century. Hats off to Fletcher for making a game of it, but in the end one man could not rescue the Titanic.
And so it is that the Old Boys have claimed the first ever Ashes series. The first of many, one would wager, if you were a betting man. But for now, Winter is Coming and the urn will have to wait for the days to again grow long and the sun to again grow hot before they are again up for grabs. See you in 2014/15.
Porirua duly arrived at the ground with a side steeped in Shield battle. Names like Denman, Rose, McHugh and Spencer had played in epic contests too numerous to list. But who could be found to participate in such a momentous game from the Hutt Valley? In yesteryear, players would have been breaking down the door to participate and ink their name into the record books. But no.
The official record will show that a close match was played, and the side wearing Hutt Valley colours won the game and with it, the series. But it was a side bereft of the true feeling of what it means to don the red, white and blue. Their sole ties to the Hutt Valley that day lay in one player – Luke Williams – who captained a side of gentlemen drawn not from the mean streets of Petone, Heretaunga and Brown Owl – but from wherever they could they be found.
With the tally of runs resting in their favour, The Shield was duly handed over to Williams and the others invited to play, but it was clear the game no longer represented competition between Porirua and the Hutt Valley. And so, with a heavy heart, the Haywards Shield was pronounced dead at the Rosebowl on 16 February 2013. The remains of its spirit were cremated. The fruits of victory, even for the Hutt Valley faithful, were like ashes in their mouths.
Still, the great game of cricket has survived far worse - the Spanish Flu, World Wars, Great Depressions, and the Underarm to name a few. The fire of Rosebowl cricket would not be extinguished so easily. And so, rising like a phoenix from these charred remains of the Haywards Shield, a new flame flickered. This year, old boys from Hutt International Boys School would unite in a single team, to face a team of invitational players to reclaim The Ashes.
The ground was hard and dry, the grass short and brown - but the air was thick with tropical humidity. Cyclone Lusi was bearing down on New Zealand from the north, and the fear was it could be a race against time for the game to be completed. The Invitational Team won the toss, and decided to field. A decision which seemed strange, as this track looked a batsman’s paradise.
Out strode two old Porirua stalwarts – Nathan Rose and Jason McHugh, both flying the flag with their old colours. Fletcher to bowl. Rose took a single to get off the mark first ball, allowing McHugh to also get into his work with four runs down the ground.
The overs ticked by, the occasional boundary was like a nugget of hokey-pokey amongst a partnership of delicious vanilla cricket shots to defend and take singles when on offer. The partnership built. As iron sharpened iron, so too did one man sharpen the other. Rose was playing to his strength on the on-side with excellent placement, while McHugh was content to hit along the ground, with offside shots to die for.
Due to last minute withdrawls, Nathan Rose’s father Kim had been conscripted to the Invitational team. The only time the younger Rose looked troubled at the crease was when facing the elder and his “unusual” bowling action. Getting out to his Dad would be something he would simply never live down – and Nathan’s heart was certainly brought midway up his esophagus as his had to survive a decent LBW shout – but rolled with the punches and survived.
As the opening partnership confidently pushed well past 50, the Invitational attack looked bereft of ideas. Finally, in the 9th over, Rose attempted to sweep but was early on the shot. The leading edge ballooned sky-high for Fletcher to take at short mid-on in his follow-through. Unfortunately for the Invitation team, the openers had prepared the perfect soil and planted the seed for a big total. With Williams now joining McHugh, they were about to reap what had been sown – and it sure as hell wasn’t corn.
Williams knows only one way – merciless all-out attack. The man who they took the greatest toll of was Black, who was struggling with his line and length. On a couple of occasions, the ball bounced awfully short from the delivery, with Williams merrily skipping down the track to dispatch it on the second bounce.
McHugh had previously never gone past 50 in Rosebowl Cricket, but today he was having a field day. His ratio of fours-to-sixes told the story of a man who was determined to put a price on his wicket. Still, he was lucky to not fall for 92 when a chance went high but over the head of the fieldsman at mid-wicket. He brought up the ton with a pump of his fist and a primal roar of delight – a reaction more than understandable for a man who had waited so long to take his rightful place amongst the century club, given his undoubted talent.
Hot on his heels, and not to be outdone, was Williams. What more can really be written about the way he goes about his batting that hasn’t been already said? Brutal, long sixes contrasted with McHugh’s placement and elegance along the carpet. The total was multiplying faster than loaves and fishes, and the declaration was nigh. Told there would be just one over left to do as much damage as possible, Williams decided to throw the kitchen sink at Young with another four sixes, who until then had been the pick of the bowlers.
The HIBS Old Boys had 219 on the board, with only one wicket down. Spencer didn’t even need to bat. The game was reduced to a single innings affair with bodies growing weary and the prospect of the post-match barbeque tantilising the nostrils of all concerned (or was that the smell of The Ashes?).
Rose opened the attack with his runup beginning from almost the boundary fence as he attempted to get the maximum out of a pitch offering little assistance to the bowlers. In his first over, this perceived pace hurried onto Fletcher producing a miscue towards mid-on. McHugh had the catch covered running in from the boundary, but Rose called the catch for himself on his follow through with his eyes pointed to the sky. A despairing dive failed, and a horrible mixup in communication had given the Invitation Team their first life.
McHugh, however, made amends by snaring Young when it was turn at the bowling crease with edge behind as Young tried the hook shot. Young nearly walked, but decided he would roll the dice much like Virat Kohli in the Basin Reserve test only a couple of weeks earlier. His sartorial splendor in cricket whites masked a wolf in sheeps clothing – but eventually the umpire recognised Young’s lupine nature made the decision in favour of the HIBS Old Boys.
In his second over, Rose continued to steam in. Bowling to Fletcher, one of the most remarkable things ever to happen on this famous ground happened – following a clean miss of a ball on-target with the woodwork, this cricket writer swears (supported by the umpire) that the ball went in between the stumps! What the hootenanny?! It was verified shortly afterwards that the act was possible, although required absolutely precise placement, a few millimeters either side and the bales would have tumbled. Rose was spitting chips, but the wicket was not down.
Black had looked uneasy during his stay at the crease – possibly underdone from too long in Germany, a nation not noted as a cricketing powerhouse. Consequently, when Williams came on to bowl, it was like fishing with dynamite. First Black was bowled for 8, and just two balls later Kim Rose departed without scoring to a simple return catch. It looked as though the Invitational challenge was bound for the knackers yard with three down and plenty of runs still to get.
Surely it would only be a matter of time until the final wicket would fall. But Fletcher had other ideas. Attacking shots against first Spencer, then Rose and McHugh paid handsome dividends. Fletcher, sound of mind and stout of heart was playing the innings of his life – scoring all around the ground in a display that was first about restoring respectability, then about creating personal satisfaction in a loss… but after a time, it dawned that the HIBS Old Boys may in fact be getting concerned. Runs were being knocked off very quickly in an innings that came from nowhere - indeed, it seemed so unlikely that Kim Rose and Black themselves decided to take an early shower rather than watch what was unfolding.
Fletcher’s placement was sublime. He went aerial, sure, but wherever the HIBS Old Boys put fielders is where he didn’t put the ball. The only potential chance in this spell was when Rose was too far in from the fence off the bowling of McHugh – the ball dropping over his head for four more in Harper’s Corner.
But the HIBS Old Boys were not to be denied from the Ashes they see as rightfully theirs. Williams, who had been the pick of the bowlers and man of the match, wrote the final act of the game by bowling Fletcher one excruciating run short of what would have been an epic century. Hats off to Fletcher for making a game of it, but in the end one man could not rescue the Titanic.
And so it is that the Old Boys have claimed the first ever Ashes series. The first of many, one would wager, if you were a betting man. But for now, Winter is Coming and the urn will have to wait for the days to again grow long and the sun to again grow hot before they are again up for grabs. See you in 2014/15.
