Richard
Cricket Web Staff Member
I've finally managed to get the one(s) I took of you onto the comp TBH, so should be on YT very soon.If the vids were by Richard, we will be waiting for another year before we get 'em
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*Official* CW English Meet-Up
- Thread starter Neil Pickup
- Start date
Pup Clarke
Cricketer Of The Year
Richard, any chance of you doing the report today?.
Piper
International Captain
Finally!I've finally managed to get the one(s) I took of you onto the comp TBH, so should be on YT very soon.
Richard
Cricket Web Staff Member
Nope, zero I'm afraid. Well, close to zero anyway - might possibly be able to later but not for at least 6 hours.Richard, any chance of you doing the report today?.
Matteh
Cricket Web: All-Time Legend
Think you should write it imo.Richard, any chance of you doing the report today?.
Pup Clarke
Cricketer Of The Year
Why's that then?. 
Pup Clarke
Cricketer Of The Year
Indeed.
DCC_legend
International Regular
Why don't you all make one?
Pup Clarke
Cricketer Of The Year
I don't know...but any journey would be more interesting than the train journey I had.
Richard
Cricket Web Staff Member
It's CW tradition to do these things by rota... Pickup's done a few, Mitchell did the most recent one, Sam (sort of) did one so it's really my turn now.
And I have video-evidence, unlike anyone else to date.
Piper
International Captain
I was tired and crap at doing things like that...
DCC_legend
International Regular
Fair enough.
Richard
Cricket Web Staff Member
Daym, nope, no chance of that now - too big apparently.I've finally managed to get the one(s) I took of you onto the comp TBH, so should be on YT very soon.
At just 171MB.
Matteh
Cricket Web: All-Time Legend
Split it up into parts imo.Daym, nope, no chance of that now - too big apparently.
Matteh
Cricket Web: All-Time Legend
That's why i cbf to do it, because i wrote one two months ago and i'm still recovering.
Richard
Cricket Web Staff Member
Ah well... here goes then...
After packing the requistite stuff (laptop, camcorder, bottles of water) the previous evening, in addition to finding directions and printing the map, I took to bed early (midnight) to allow myself the odds-on of waking when my alarm rung at 7:40 (5 mins fast) the next day. To my eternal astonishment I was successful, and not merely fell asleep easily enough but woke at the prescribed time. I lay for maybe 10 minutes then dragged myself up, took breakfast, chucked my cricket bag and my sister's (borrowed) backpack in the car along with the Elton John, Darkness, Coldplay, Oasis and B*Witched tapes, took my morningly shave, got Dad to test the tyre pressures, tried (and failed) to solve the windscreen-wiper problems which allow roughly half of proper visibility in rain (which formed about three-quarters of the journey up there) and set off. The rain rained heavily, but I worried not, and without once going over 70mph (
) took the long trek up the M5. Mitchell texted me about halfway there after spotting my post saying "I hope someone spots this post" telling me of rendezvous plans. I hoped I'd find it easy.
I left the M5 at the intended junction, onto the original A38 to Birmingham. I followed this road - not completely sans-difficulty - to New Street Station. I parked, took 3 consecutive free-20-minute-parking tickets (I had no change to pay for the non-free ones), a trick I was to repeat later in the day, and went to investigate. Sure enough, the intended rendevous place was easy enough to find - now I returned to the car to wait until the trains pulled-in (the latest was scheduled for 12:30, and I'd arrived at around 11:45, a bit earlier than I'd thought was likely having allowed for mishaps which did not happen). I waited, then returned to the WH Smiths in question, grabbing me a Burger King special (large fries and onion rings
) on the way, eventually found Mitchell, Crampton turned-up immediately afterwards, and at length Howgate spotted us.
We didn't speak for an estimated 10 minutes 43 seconds, but eventually found the ground, parked in an illeg-er, 100% legal car-park, trekked with bags through the drizzle to the ground. We knew, of course, that play was going to be off for the day so we went to the Indoor School to ask about a net. We were told the next one available was at 3of the clock (just over 2 hours later) so Mitchell offered to buy a windball to play with on the handily-constructed KwiK CricKet field that appeared to have escaped our notice a year earlier (we had then preferred the car-park, which had laid scene to the legendary Pitt Affair Mark 2, which had seen Dickinson and Pitt conspire to fail to attempt to return a ball from over a fence, but instead throw it into the fence, and have to repeat the attempt). We took guard in an ill-advised area (there was a with-gap fence behind us and the tarmacked area within range of Crampton's booming cover-drive) and bowled a few overs before I suggested maybe moving to another area with a solid fence behind and a clear outfield around most of the area. It was agreed, and we moved the bags. Fortunately, the drizzle (which had several times threatened to stop play) ceased soon after this, and I managed to get my outswinger going beautifully on occasions, being desperately close on one occasion to a hat-trick. Even more remarkably, I survived 4 overs before being stumped (on the presumption of a perfect wicketkeeper, the customary rule in said game - and quite damn right, too) off Crampton's bowling.
The game ended when a Beamer from Mitchell (well over head-high, about twice as high as Crampton - who was on strike - 's head) cleared the backboard, and the fence behind, travelling into the garden beyond. After some brokering, Mitchell elected to find a place to climb the fence, enter the garden, and retrive his ball. This was achieved with surprising success, and another (polythene) ball was added to the collection, which I kept as a souvenier of the day, along with the video of Matteh Mitchell's Mission. We elected to finish at that point, then go for some food at the familiar haunts of the previous year. We returned to the car with bags, deposited them in the boot, and travelled to Saj's Kebab House (or similar). I had eaten so was not bothered, but we entered, and had to endure surely the most stupid, obnoxious female in history yelling at anyone and everyone behind the counter and seemingly wasting 20 minutes for absolutely everyone. Eventually, Mitchell and Crampton managed to get served, so us 3 went outside for them to eat. After about 30 years, Howgate finally got his, too, and we returned to the car to go back to the ground. This time we parked inside, fully aware that there would be a cost. We parked near the school, went inside, and waited for our net. After The Youth Of Warkwickshire had finished, we took the lane assigned to us and Crampton padded-up. For maybe the next half-hour we sent down deliveries at him, using 2 balls, one of which never remotely deviated off the straight, the other which enabled Mitchell and myself to bowl massive hooping outswingers and Howgate to (when he bowled seam instead of his wristspin - which positively should be all the time) get his booming inswinger going. One particularly impressive one castled Crampton all ends up, and would surely have done for many better batsmen, if possibly not the exiled Dominic Ostler, netting in the next set of lanes.
Eventually, Crampton finished his knock and Mitchell batted. The difference in class was immediately apparent, but nonetheless Mitchell's strokeplay was of times impressive. At length I became exhausted and retired to principally working the camera. The fact that my camerawork is infinitely superior to all others' will be demonstrated when the footage is posted, given that almost all the decent snapshots feature bowlers other than myself (I have just two decent ones of me bowling!!!!!!!!!!!) Crampton finally had to leave us, so we said our goodbyes, and eventually retreated to impressions. Howgate's were decent, but not a patch on mine. Finally I tired so badly that even that was no longer possible, so we retired to sit at the end of the net and talk about the great site that is CW.n, a favourite topic being this post and indeed this member at large, but few escaped the powerful set of eyes that was this unique combination (the relative newbie, the inlaw-within-the-outlaws, and the power-hungry he-who-has-encountered-most-in-his-38,000-posts). Eventually, we found we had to return to New Street, and (after a mishap or two) did, so as Mitchell could take his train. Howgate's was not for another hour, however, so the laptop had to come out. After examining the infamous Big Night In that the two of us plus a certain Aseem AKA Turbinator had enjoyed a month or so back, we discussed a few more members. After I had seemed to damage my car, I recovered the problem, and Howgate left to catch his train. I found my way out of Birmingham - with one mishap - and travelled the M5 home. A time of 1 hour 50 minutes, as I say, is surely some sort of record, but it must have been due to forces outside nature as I not once exceeded 70mph, again.
That, my friends, is the story of British CW MU #2 of 2007. More to follow in the coming weeks, once again involving that no-longer-so-mysterious fellow they know best as sledger. And that infamous Dickinson and his sidekick Walsh, of course.
After packing the requistite stuff (laptop, camcorder, bottles of water) the previous evening, in addition to finding directions and printing the map, I took to bed early (midnight) to allow myself the odds-on of waking when my alarm rung at 7:40 (5 mins fast) the next day. To my eternal astonishment I was successful, and not merely fell asleep easily enough but woke at the prescribed time. I lay for maybe 10 minutes then dragged myself up, took breakfast, chucked my cricket bag and my sister's (borrowed) backpack in the car along with the Elton John, Darkness, Coldplay, Oasis and B*Witched tapes, took my morningly shave, got Dad to test the tyre pressures, tried (and failed) to solve the windscreen-wiper problems which allow roughly half of proper visibility in rain (which formed about three-quarters of the journey up there) and set off. The rain rained heavily, but I worried not, and without once going over 70mph (
) took the long trek up the M5. Mitchell texted me about halfway there after spotting my post saying "I hope someone spots this post" telling me of rendezvous plans. I hoped I'd find it easy.I left the M5 at the intended junction, onto the original A38 to Birmingham. I followed this road - not completely sans-difficulty - to New Street Station. I parked, took 3 consecutive free-20-minute-parking tickets (I had no change to pay for the non-free ones), a trick I was to repeat later in the day, and went to investigate. Sure enough, the intended rendevous place was easy enough to find - now I returned to the car to wait until the trains pulled-in (the latest was scheduled for 12:30, and I'd arrived at around 11:45, a bit earlier than I'd thought was likely having allowed for mishaps which did not happen). I waited, then returned to the WH Smiths in question, grabbing me a Burger King special (large fries and onion rings
) on the way, eventually found Mitchell, Crampton turned-up immediately afterwards, and at length Howgate spotted us.We didn't speak for an estimated 10 minutes 43 seconds, but eventually found the ground, parked in an illeg-er, 100% legal car-park, trekked with bags through the drizzle to the ground. We knew, of course, that play was going to be off for the day so we went to the Indoor School to ask about a net. We were told the next one available was at 3of the clock (just over 2 hours later) so Mitchell offered to buy a windball to play with on the handily-constructed KwiK CricKet field that appeared to have escaped our notice a year earlier (we had then preferred the car-park, which had laid scene to the legendary Pitt Affair Mark 2, which had seen Dickinson and Pitt conspire to fail to attempt to return a ball from over a fence, but instead throw it into the fence, and have to repeat the attempt). We took guard in an ill-advised area (there was a with-gap fence behind us and the tarmacked area within range of Crampton's booming cover-drive) and bowled a few overs before I suggested maybe moving to another area with a solid fence behind and a clear outfield around most of the area. It was agreed, and we moved the bags. Fortunately, the drizzle (which had several times threatened to stop play) ceased soon after this, and I managed to get my outswinger going beautifully on occasions, being desperately close on one occasion to a hat-trick. Even more remarkably, I survived 4 overs before being stumped (on the presumption of a perfect wicketkeeper, the customary rule in said game - and quite damn right, too) off Crampton's bowling.
The game ended when a Beamer from Mitchell (well over head-high, about twice as high as Crampton - who was on strike - 's head) cleared the backboard, and the fence behind, travelling into the garden beyond. After some brokering, Mitchell elected to find a place to climb the fence, enter the garden, and retrive his ball. This was achieved with surprising success, and another (polythene) ball was added to the collection, which I kept as a souvenier of the day, along with the video of Matteh Mitchell's Mission. We elected to finish at that point, then go for some food at the familiar haunts of the previous year. We returned to the car with bags, deposited them in the boot, and travelled to Saj's Kebab House (or similar). I had eaten so was not bothered, but we entered, and had to endure surely the most stupid, obnoxious female in history yelling at anyone and everyone behind the counter and seemingly wasting 20 minutes for absolutely everyone. Eventually, Mitchell and Crampton managed to get served, so us 3 went outside for them to eat. After about 30 years, Howgate finally got his, too, and we returned to the car to go back to the ground. This time we parked inside, fully aware that there would be a cost. We parked near the school, went inside, and waited for our net. After The Youth Of Warkwickshire had finished, we took the lane assigned to us and Crampton padded-up. For maybe the next half-hour we sent down deliveries at him, using 2 balls, one of which never remotely deviated off the straight, the other which enabled Mitchell and myself to bowl massive hooping outswingers and Howgate to (when he bowled seam instead of his wristspin - which positively should be all the time) get his booming inswinger going. One particularly impressive one castled Crampton all ends up, and would surely have done for many better batsmen, if possibly not the exiled Dominic Ostler, netting in the next set of lanes.
Eventually, Crampton finished his knock and Mitchell batted. The difference in class was immediately apparent, but nonetheless Mitchell's strokeplay was of times impressive. At length I became exhausted and retired to principally working the camera. The fact that my camerawork is infinitely superior to all others' will be demonstrated when the footage is posted, given that almost all the decent snapshots feature bowlers other than myself (I have just two decent ones of me bowling!!!!!!!!!!!) Crampton finally had to leave us, so we said our goodbyes, and eventually retreated to impressions. Howgate's were decent, but not a patch on mine. Finally I tired so badly that even that was no longer possible, so we retired to sit at the end of the net and talk about the great site that is CW.n, a favourite topic being this post and indeed this member at large, but few escaped the powerful set of eyes that was this unique combination (the relative newbie, the inlaw-within-the-outlaws, and the power-hungry he-who-has-encountered-most-in-his-38,000-posts). Eventually, we found we had to return to New Street, and (after a mishap or two) did, so as Mitchell could take his train. Howgate's was not for another hour, however, so the laptop had to come out. After examining the infamous Big Night In that the two of us plus a certain Aseem AKA Turbinator had enjoyed a month or so back, we discussed a few more members. After I had seemed to damage my car, I recovered the problem, and Howgate left to catch his train. I found my way out of Birmingham - with one mishap - and travelled the M5 home. A time of 1 hour 50 minutes, as I say, is surely some sort of record, but it must have been due to forces outside nature as I not once exceeded 70mph, again.
That, my friends, is the story of British CW MU #2 of 2007. More to follow in the coming weeks, once again involving that no-longer-so-mysterious fellow they know best as sledger. And that infamous Dickinson and his sidekick Walsh, of course.
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