Nepotists v Teddington   (Report by Dale "Daisy" Atkinson)                                                                1 Jun 2008

Nepotists v Barnes   (Report by Jeff Critchley)                                                                                      6 Jul 2008

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Nepotists v Teddington   (Report by Dale "Daisy" Atkinson)                                                                 1 Jun 2008

BENNY HILL'S LEGACY LIVES ON IN SOUTH LONDON

When I was about eleven my mum banned Benny Hill. I remember it quite clearly. She said “Benny Hill is banned”, and just like that he was consigned to the same basket of contraband that already contained Coco Pops, the video game Leisure Suit Larry and the song “Do Me!” by Bel Biv DeVoe. Fortunately my mate Adrian Brown’s mum didn’t care about that stuff so I started spending a lot of time over at his place eating nutritionally dubious breakfast cereals and absorbing low end smut.

Six weeks after the initial ban my mother’s attempts to guard my moral and nutritional wellbeing were delivered a fatal blow when Adrian’s older brother gifted him a bunch of Playboys. Watching a lecherous fat man waddle after a gaggle of poddy blondes dressed in nurse’s outfits had suddenly lost its relevance. I started to spend even more time over at AB’s.

So watching Benny Hill was only a brief step in the road to emerging adolescence for a youthful Atkinson, falling somewhere between the realisation that breasts could provide so much more than simple sustenance and the gnawing disappointment that came from working out that it would still be a number of years before the budding breasts on my female classmates would look anything like those on the women in AB’s magazines. But although Hill’s influence was fleeting, it was strong, sinking into my pubescent consciousness in a way that I’ve never been able to completely shake free. His theme tune still springs to mind every time I watch a busty woman jogging in the park – and sometimes as I watch one or two of the more generously proportioned Nepos pursue a ball into the outfield - and Benny’s influence also manifests itself every time I see the name Teddington on a train station information board. It draws out something of an autistic reaction in me. Even as I write it now – Teddington – I can hear the sound of galloping hooves in my head, punctuated with the cracking of a whip. And it’s only with great difficultly that I can restrain the urge to sing; “Ernie…. Eeeeeeeeeernie, And he drove the fastest milk cart in the west. Wha-cha!”

For those Nepos not familiar with Benny Hill’s work he once wrote a song about a milkman called Ernie, who supposedly “drove the fastest milk cart in the west”. Ernie ended up in a battle for the affections of one of his clients with a man called Two Ton Ted from Teddington, a lactose intolerant baker, with an eye for a tart. If memory serves me correctly Ted stunned Ernie with a well thrown rock cake to the belly before being finished him off with a stale pork pie to the head. Ernie died, Ted got the girl.

I was reminded of Ted’s dangerous throwing arm as Blair Cartwright wondered back to the Teddington pavilion after being run out without facing a ball, and wondered, looking at the scoreboard - which read T Chopra bowled 0, D Stocks run out 4, B Cartwright run out 0, Nepotists 5 for 3 - whether Teddingtonians were naturally good throwers or if perhaps it was something they practiced in preparation for a hotly-contested, semi-annual, highly-local, competition of some sort; like that village in Dorset where men set their wives alight and roll them down a hill in an attempt to win a Clydesdale full of mead.

This thought swiftly dissipated as Steve Werren, fully padded up, scurried past me on all fours, barking at a rapidly retreating Irish Setter.

It’s been two weeks since the event and I can’t really remember that much of the rest of the innings. Wickets fell, Critchley made a 50, opposition bowlers were accused of chucking. Steve wandered over to communicate with the deer on the far side of the ground who wisely ignored what he had to say. We made 168 off our 40 overs which looked a little on the light side but we were confident a couple of early wickets would put us in a pretty good position. Sadly we only got the one early wicket – David Genford’s maiden Nepo scalp - and things swiftly spiraled out of control.

The only bright patch of the afternoon came when, with just 20 runs left between the Nepotists and ignominious defeat, Genford came back into the attack and nipped out three wickets in four balls. Sadly a lack of support from the other bowlers meant Teddington passed the total with six wickets and fifteen overs in hand. Poor result. But as my dad always said, the winners can smile and the losers can please themselves and please ourselves we did, voting birthday boy Joe Wallace into his second NACA in a fortnight for calling a girl with whom he was developing something of a romantic relationship “mate” on the phone. Well done Joe.

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Nepotist v Barnes   (Report by Jeff Critchley)                                                                                        6 Jul 2008

BAR OPENING HOURS AT BARNES COST NEPOTIST VICTORY

We travelled to the south side bank of the River Thames to Barnes.  On inspection of the ground, we thought we may have been at another famous landmark, The Wetlands Centre, but on confirmation with the opposition team captain it was confirmed this was in fact Barnes CC. The opposition captain, "The Colonel" was very keen to try out his new hip and the toss was undertaken.  On a correct call of "Headthemup" we had a bat as we had 9 players at the time.
Covers off, game on.

Bessy and David Greaves opened up.  And David unfortunately copped the captain's mock, because as soon as it was said "He's looking pretty good out there" He returned to the pavilion having not troubled the scorers. Leckers having been fired out in his first match was looking in fine form, seeing off the new ball pair.  Then edging a pie to get himself out for 30. Peter Lennon was given rousing support from his young son with the call of " I bet you he gets a duck".  Having already lost a quick tenner at Streatham and Marlborough, I quickly took the bet and Mr Lennon duly converted with a quick single.

In true Nepotistic fashion we managed to get everyone bat with the stand out being Mr Carl "Bessy" Hoar with superb score of 77. The innings finished off with a great downpour and those wimps at Wimbledon stopped but we played through, leaving us with 8 for 198 off our 40 overs. Over tea a plan was born that if we continued the rain dance we wouldn't have to field, but as the bar wasn't opening until 7pm it was thought best to at least hang around. However just as I was tucking my third round of cream cakes the sun came out. Covers off, game on.

As a first time captain of the Nepotists, my policy was simply spread the field and definitely take the first over, down breeze and down the hill. We toiled away until the 4 over when the rain dance started again, this time wiping us out for half an hour. As the bar wasn't open yet, we decided to go back out there, with revised playing conditions. Duckworth and Lewis may have spent many years deciding a method of working out a revised total, we took 4 seconds "150 off 30 sound good", "yep, but I'm not giving up 2 overs", "fine" Covers off, game on.

"Bessy" Hoar was a stand out in the field, in his pink wig. And using the rare opportunity to bowl by staring a wicket. In a re-enactment of a famous day in Dallas, Texas, we were looking around the grassy knolls after the no 3 was seemingly shot in the leg, and we still couldn't run him out. The No 4 was done with a classic Nepotist manoeuvre foxing the no 4. out with a run out using the classic over throw and Tim Hardy's years of Nepotist experience cleaning up at the other end. We pushed them all the way and finished with 9 as Tim Hardy, unfortunately, forgot about the nepotist harbour bridge method of fielding and landed heavily on a shoulder and will require 6 weeks in a sling, I'm told.
In the NACA, in a scene not witnessed since the Bounty or maybe Old Josepherians, the captain was forced to except his lime green and magenta fate.

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