News
If the Cowfolk are doing it, this is where it’s at…
The Song Of Great Green Gibbo
Below is my failed attempt to write a match report in the style of ‘The Story of Hiawatha’ by Longfellow (lucky chap):
Should you ask me, whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest
With the dew and damp of meadows,
With the curling smoke of wigwams,
With the rushing of great rivers,
With their frequent repetitions,
And their wild reverberations
As of thunder in the mountains?
I should answer, I should tell you,
From the boozers and the taverns,
From the talkers of the bollocks,
From the Cowboys and the Cowgirls.
From the wanker that is Webgimp,
From those tainted fingers typing,
typing on the grubby keyboard,
Made up he those putrid stories.
Oh ear we go, prevarication,
All around the bloody bushes.
Using language like a dandy,
Using words for tit-elation.
What ‘appened in the frigging match
Who prevailed, who was failure?
Who could care? I can’t imagine.
Neither watchers, nor the players.
At The Plough, the boozy Mecca,
Centre of the Universe’l,
Centre of all self-destruction,
Home from home to the debauched.
Here did Cowboys come together,
Cricket players by name at least,
But made idol by the weather,
Restless fellows, The Eastonites.
Waited here they for Green Gibbo,
Waited here for tiny motor,
Celestial green Nissan Micra .
Asking they of local prophet,
Prophet of a dumbass new church,
Wherefore is your God you tosser,
Last night was he drinking be-er?
Drinking be-er by ‘ere in Pluff?
Prophet said of Great Green Gibbo,
He appears here at his leisure
He’s in heaven and can hear us
He’s not kind to those that doubt him,
When you doubt the Great Green Gibbo.
You’ll Incur his wrath akimbo,
Suffer much from nasty thingies,
Suffer plenty vengeful curses.
Suffer plagues and bulging pustules.
Weeks had past here, still they waited,
Waited for the rain to lessen,
Lessen from a mighty deluge
Pissing from the bloody heavens.
Great Green Gibbo came among them,
Told them that the season’s over
Told them that the sun was setting.
Told them they had miffed him greatly.
Spared them though the worst afflictions.
Charged them though the subs for cricket.
Then they moaned much, pleaded feebley
Pleaded they had not played cricket
Great Green Gibbo showed no mercy
Changed his mind and charged them double.
Our season so far by Treacher
Tournament Meeting
More of the same.
Buck This For Laugh
The Second Coming of Green Gibbo
30/06/2012
And lo the good people of Easton did travel on mass to Winford for it was the Sabbath (depending upon thy god), where they did wait for Green Gibbo to lead them to conquer their foe and lead them victorious from the rain soaked wilderness to The Promised Plough.
And Grove, the heretic, did mutter “Green Gibbo has forsaken us, for why does he not present himself and perform mighty and wondrous deeds to prove unto us his awesomeness”. Then Grove did go too far for he proclaimed to the faithful “Why, it would be of little wonderment if Green Gibbo does not exists, why do we not follow the false idols, covert our neighbours ass and spill our seed on the stony ground?”.
All fell silent in terror as upon the ground and in the fundament there was a mighty rumbling, and the assembled multitude did look at Garnier with much disparagement and said as one “For fucks sake Garnier”. But once more there was a mighty rumbling and when challenged did Garnier denied it thrice for he had discharged his gut to its satisfaction.
And lo from the heavens did the Great Green Mothership descend and from the Mothership did Green Gibbo himself come among us with much pomp and majesty. And he did look at Grove, The Heretic, and said “For thy doubt and bad batting shall thy wriggle on thy belly like the lowliest of beast and graze upon the grass”. So did Grove wriggle upon his belly with much rumination of the grasses, and the seeds, and the berries and indeed all the foliage that grows upon the earth in those part such that Green Gibbo saw fit to grow there in his magnanimous and beneficenous omnipotence.
“Shine a light”, said Iggy much overcome by the vengeful fervour of his god. So did Green Gibbo emit such light that it transcended great distances to illuminate Uranus.
And so did come the time for The Great Toss. With much whaling and gnashing of teeth did Green Gibbo lose the toss to the foe, for not even he can command the elements of chance. And most frightful was the stench of rotting blubber as the Eastonites were put into bat.
Green Gibbo took Grove, The Heretic, aside and did say unto him, “For thy heresy shall thou be runnest out for a duck”. And lo it did come to pass that Green Gibbo and Grove strode to the crease in the manliest of fashions for Grove to be swiftly dispatched while straying from his homeland by two cubits. Grove, The Heretic, had fallen some 100 runs short of his century.
Preece then did stride most manfully to the crease and smote the foe with much might and furious anger. In the multitude of runs did Preece hit 150 noteth out and did Green Gibbo plunder the foe for three score and 10 runs before being dismissed leg-before by Grove, The Heretic. “Thy shall not judge the lord thy god” fumed Green Gibbo. “Thou shall not question the umpire chum, now sling thy hook” said Grove for verily it is written in the good book that not even god himself can bring his miffed countenance to bare upon the umpire’s decision.
Big Tall Toole then performed mighty batting deeds and hit a swift 50 before the two score overs had passed. And low the Eastonites had scored 280 runs for the loss of but two wickets.
At tea did Green Gibbo take the bread, beak it and give it to his disciples saying “take this and eat it, for this is my body” and lo they did take it and eat it and it was good for it was a baguette (if thou knowest wot I mean Ladies!) Seized by the spirit of the moment did Garnier thrust forth a goblet that overflowed with liquid of a yellow hue, “You can drink that and all if you like, I just pissed in it”.
Time did come to pass for the Eastonites to take to the field and for the foe to take up the willow. Upon such time did RT1 produce bowling of such miraculous qualities that many did speculate that he had been servicing favours and odd jobs for Beelzebub at reasonable rates. RT1 did dispatch all 10 foe for the meagrest of but one run each with Gretch taking 10 catches behind the wicket. Upon the other end did TT bowl 8 straight maidens.
So did Green Gibbo lead his people the Eastonites to The Promised Plough where Green Gibbo did turn great quantities of water to fine ale upon which Garnier proclaimed “For now am I the greatest of believers” and Grove, The Heretic, muttered much that the good lord had not giveth of the sherry. Finally, his work upon the earth completed, did Green Gibbo ascended unto heaven in the Mothership.
OK, so you have guessed by now that the cricket was rained off again.
Pub Olympics
All day at The Plough. Beer pong, raffle, screenings of rare films of days gone past and DJs.
£3 per person, 4 people per team.
Beaten At The Hospital
27/06/2012
Up to Frenchay Hospital to play their league T20 side in persistent drizzle, on a wicket of the artificial variety and an outfield strewn with soggy grass cuttings which resembled a huge green moulting dog.
Winning the toss Cowboys opted to bowl and dismissed the foe for what seemed a paltry 83. Highlights included a great spell from RT1 with 2 wickets, a nonchalant high speed caught and bowled by Garnier some good early pace from RT2 and niggly bowling from Iggy.
Also noteworthy was SteveO barging the square leg umpire aside to take a catch Treachers final over of legspin and Stranges unlucky spill in the gully having got both hands to the ball with a spectacular dive.
The reply got off to an inauspicious start when Ange was caught first ball. Justin and Strange were quickly back in the hutch and Cowboys were in trouble 3 down for not a lot.
Bolts and Evan then put together something of a partnership. Bolts hitting the occasional bad ball for 4, and some good running between the wickets had the foe briefly rattled.
But in the end, good accurate bowling by the foe and our inability to get an increasingly soggy ball aerial, above the doggy outfield and over the boundary meant we lost touch withe required rate. With Bolts bowled, and Evan and Garnier both comically run out there was too much left for the lower order to do.
Cowboys were all out in the final over 11 short of the target.
We retired to the hospital social club (circa 1982) where having eventually been served pints of Double Diamond, Garniers catch won Cider Moment and RT1 and Evan shared man of the match.
Green Gibbo
All of the cricket was rained off over the weekend. The Saturdays did at least manage to start thier match. The full scorecard can be found here.
How on Earth could people on such a miserably wet island invent a game that requires dry conditions to play. After two weekends without cricket a rusty Saturday Team emerged, blinking, into something that wasn’t quite sunlight and headed for Harptree Villages. On arrival in West Harptree Uberpops immediately upset a local by asking for directions to the cricket pitch, which it turns out is in East Harptree. “I wouldn’t go up there this time of the afternoon” said the surly West Harptree gent.
Just round the corner, in East Harptree (about 100 m away), an inspection of the wicket revealed it to resemble chocolate fudge icing with grass sprinkles, i.e. it was very, very soft. “Better not lose the toss then” said a Uberpops, who had caught a bad case of surly off the West Harptree gent. One of the Foe’s players noticed this and looked concerned, “Ear, you ate bean commooning down West Arptree ave eee?” he asked.
With the teams assembled all we needed to get going was our beloved leader who was driving from CACKK Camp to ‘steer his merry band to glorious victory’, or if that failed he was going to captain the Saturday Team. A small green car drove into the car park and from it oozed an ill-appointed green man. “Take me to your leader” he said to Kahlu. “You are my leader” replied Kahlu. “Bugger” said the dishevelled green slime, “Take me to their leader then”. He was take to the foe’s leader who took one look at him and said, with some suspicion, “Ear, ur knot fraaam West Arptree r e?”. “No your Reverend I have come from CACKK and when it is over I will return to CACKK”.
For those of you not in ‘the know’ CACKK is the Cowboys and Cowgirls Kids Klub and it was their annual camping weekend in Wales last weekend. For those of you who are in ‘the know’ it will be quite obvious how dangerous such an event can be for a man of Gibbo’s week temperament, what with them having a ‘mix your own cocktail’ bar and the like.
The foe’s skipper tossed one into the air, “errrrr?” said Gibbo in indecision. “No, tails” said the foe’s skipper and chose to put us into bat. Gibbo looked at Grove apologetically and in a green hue he complained that he had been ‘Cupised’ the night before and so had not slept. Those of you in ‘the know’ will realise what this means: to be Cupised is to spend the whole night with Cupis getting drunk and being psychoanalysed by the same while having his finger repeatedly jabbed in your face. This is like Clare Rainer, Lord Kitchener and Oliver Reid rolled into one. If you are very lucky Cupis will perform the ancient rite of the ‘Eastville Pant Dance’, a cultural phenomenon that has been the subject of a paper by an anthropologist from Goldsmiths College. (I know, dear reader, that you think that the author makes stuff up when writing match reposts, but that bit is actually true)
In the spirit of journalistic fairness (and in fear of Lord Levison) your author phoned Cupis up and put Gibbo’s accusation to him. Cupis countered that he was the victim and had been Gibboed. Perhaps both of them should go away and look synergy up in a dictionary or a self-help manual for the bewildered, befuddled and just plain buggered.
And so Grove and Bordi strode manfully to the wicket. Or at least Grove minced slightly in the English style and Bordi pranced rather in the Italian style. Shortly thereafter Grove stroked one to mid-off, shouted yes and charged a single. Bordi stood his ground admiring the cut of the fielders jib. “YESSSS” screamed Grove. “Not just now brother” replied Bordi. Grove tried to turn and return to his ground but the soft earth beneath his spikes yielded and he was left floundering as he was run out by a good half-length.
Gibbo was pointed in the general direction of the crease and leaked to the wicket. After not so long he looked on as Bordi got bowled by one that was tossed up and disappeared into a tree behind the bowler’s arm. “It was tossed up and disappeared into a tree behind the bowler’s arm”, explained Bordi. Big Tall Toole skulked to the middle with a dickey tummy. Eger to get back to the commodious pavilion and its well-appointed water closets he chipped a leading edge into the air and was easily caught. Iggy swung at a straight one, he later blamed the foe’s wicket keeper for talking him into it.
So enter Kahlu with a good 25 overs to bat out. The second ball he faced went for an enormous straight six into the car park. For the next over the foe put a man straight and right on the boundary, in fact he was so far from the wicket he was almost in West Harptree. Gibbo saw the danger, “watch out for that fielder who is so far from the wicket he was almost in West Harptree” he warned Kalhu. A single brought Kahlu to the strikers end and the very next ball was smashed straight at the fielder Gibbo had pointed out and he was caught. Next time Gibbo has undertaken to point to a gap in the field instead of a fielder to see if this brings more encouraging results.
Green Gibbo set about grinding and gunning an innings out of the awful pitch. Meanwhile TT was bowled out by one that nipped back off a crater which had opened up in the pitch after the bowler from that end had gone for a burton. Uberpops was given out LBW to one which soiled his trousers mid-thigh. Gretch was run out and Garnier, after an entertaining six, was caught.
Entering the last over with 9 wickets down RT1 was looking good and on strike, Gibbo called him through for a suicide single and ran him out. With four balls left Gibbo had run out the last batsman and thus stranded himself on 46 not out. He was of course fined for gratuitous jug avoidance of the most heinous kind.
The foe had a bizarre idea of how to make a cricket tea; everyone in East Harptree brought a contribution. There was only one flaw with this otherwise cunning plan and that was that most people had brought biscuits, only one person had made a sandwich and someone else had just nipped into the filling station shop and bought an all-day-breakfast baguette. As we chomped our way through the full McVitie’s range it looked as though the forecast rain had missed us and our 114 all out would not be enough to prevail.
We took to the field and their openers took RT1 and Garnier apart. Kahlu looked to be causing the batsman more trouble but they cruised to 70 for 1 off 10 when … halleluiah and kumbaya … the heavens opened. We retired to the pavilion and waited to see if it would clear up. The foe would not concede defeat until a storm drain at the top of the pitch burst and sent a tsunami dramatically heading towards the wicket. “Pub” said the foe’s leader. We of course went to the East Harptree pub since no one in their right mind would dare go to West Harptree at that time of the evening.
Gibbo won MOM for his captain’s innings. Garnier won the Cider Moment for his 6.
To get back to Bristol we had to build ourselves an ark. And so it is after 3 days adrift that I hope someone will find this match report stuffed into an empty Red Stripe can and send out a rescue party. The plan had been to wait a day and send out the dove to search for dry land but the dove is missing and Garnier has suspicious feathers around his mouth… The Bastard.
Oppose The EDL March In Bristol Meeting
If you hate the EDL and hate football (the meeting clashes with the England game) there is a meeting at Easton Community Centre on Sunday at 7pm to discuse oposition to the EDL march in Bristol on July 14th.
Anti EDL meetin flyer
End Of Season Awards Do
This year this will be at Easton Community Centre and then The Plough. Awards, booze and moo-zic.
*** Please note that the venue is now only The Plough.