Clay Cross CC

i am guessing by the lack of smiley happy faces that this is a sarcastic comment and the you do not recognise me as the literary genius that i am.

Bravo & others.
I had the pleasure of being a bar steward for the 2 midw**k games this week. It was clear that poor Planty was having great difficulty in getting the Plantmobile within a foot of the dressing room door & had to walk 2 paces before he reached the premises.He was also forced to walk to the far side of the room as the pegs just inside the door were taken. (a disgraceful episode which must not be repeated)
In view of this I am proposing a working party to tarmac an area purely for the use of Planty, correctly marked out to ensure this does'nt happen again.To ensure all is ready for his next entrance to the premises on Saturday this will occur at 6.00 am Saturday morning.Please bring a shovel & a rake. The roller will have been repaired by then so Planty himself will not be required.
Please post on here to confirm your attendance.

Saturday 23rd of June

Dear diary

Somewhat of a hokey cokey week this week. I was in out in and out of the first team. In the end Sullivan beat me on the fitness aspect to claim the coveted number 8 specialist fielding position in the 1st 11. Still the jokes on him as i never really wanted to play for them anyway.

Upon hearing the disappointing news all of my mates ralleyed round to pick me up. Unfortunately after the regretable incident in the local Tandori with the lighter, naan bread and an unusually high levels of methane gas fermenting in my bowels non of them will be seen in public with me anymore. Still on the bright side the curry house managed to claim for new set of curtains and table cloths on their insurance. And afterall it wasnt as if Raj's hair didnt grow back eventually.

So i ventured to the local with the only 2 more social outcasts than myself, Shrek and TGO 'tank top boy'. After a few beers i challenged Shrek to a go on the punching machine and got duly despatched. Does'nt count though cos he's ginger and bald so has a lot of anger in him. In an effort to regain some credibility i challenged the 7 stone weakling as i couldnt possibly lose in a display of strength to him. Anyway winning isnt everything and im sure that machine was faulty.

Due to now being a doleite i stayed in on Friday although i told all my mates i was preparing to for the big clash on Saturday. As i can no longer pay for sky i watched my freeview set top box which is excellent value for money and watched Gladiator on Film 4. Damn i wish i was like Russell Crowe, think i will grow a beard.

Managed to beat cripple else to the ground and nab the best parking spot right between the bog and the changing room door. Decisions, decisions which to visit first. Im sure this rock and roll lifestyle will be the end of me. (Did i remember to set the video for the Jeremy Kyle show before i came out? Daytime tv is quality.) Usual scene and i seem to have timed things to perfection as everyone is already here. 1:45, just enough time to get changed. Bugg3r my watch must have stopped last night as its only quarter to one! Cheap QVC cr4p. Didnt think you spelt Rolex with an A anyway.

Bravo is one of the best toss3rs i have ever met. He won it again today and i am begining to think el crapitan isnt actually working but hiding in the bushes so he cant lose if it goes pear shaped. After the restraining order though he must be carefull.

Quite fun in the field today as we bowled them out for 113. Luscious Matt bowled well and even that bloke Stan Ogden managed to bowl more than 3 overs this week without feigning injury and asking to be taken off. Bravo came on and ripped out the tail. What a guy, no one can bowl to 11 year olds like him. Thought the idea of sharing the captaining duties worked well and is something to consider going forward. I captained between the 27th and 33rd overs but found it difficult to remember where both me and young Tom should be fielding each ball. On more than one occasion found myself unervingly close to him as one of us was clearly in the wrong place. I did the only thing a red blooded male could do to get out of the predicament and held his hand so it looked like he was lost or scared.

Most important part of the day tea and yes you guessed it mmmmmmmmmmmbeef sandwiches. The day just gets better and better.

Else and the hard hitter are opening as usual. My suggestion that i too come out and stand beside the square leg umpire to save time didnt go down too well. But hey at least they know im always thinking.

Bravo is out and its my time! Will draw strength and inspiration from my hero Russell. As i enter the arena i can hear the Gladiator theme music. This is not the cross bowl, this is the colosium. I am Christopher Planticus Orilius, The Hasland. Father to a hungry belly, husband to a dicky gall bladder and i shall have my vengance in this innings or the next.

72 runs later and i have cut, thrust and slain the opposition just like Russell only a lot less bloody and i didnt really hit anybody although that wicket keeper came close.

As i walk off to the warm applause and adulation of my gratefull team mates even the local school children burst into song. Having just been asked to keep off the pitch a dozen or so of the scamps have given their own interpretation of the Von Trap family singers in the Sound of music with a rousing chorus of Fuch you, and you, and you and you and you. Bless they even include sign language for the deaf.

Giddy from the excitement of my magnificent innings i actually approach bravo and ask him to give me hand to take the sight screen down, luckily his fall was broken by the metal cage and he wont need stitches.

Anyway must go as my watch says its quarter to eight on Monday and i have'nt been to bed or written my letter of complaint to QVC yet.



Post Edited (23-06-07 22:44)

:oD

best one yet

:oD bleedin hilarious pal.

June 30th

Dear Diary

This week finished as it started, wet. It all started on Monday as me and Trisha were just getting down to it on my settee when she was literally pulled from my grasp, as her talk show was interupted by a news flash. Floods blah blah blah, rain, yawn, only go out if necessary. I went to the kitchen still with a semi (theres somethin about those teeth that just do it fo me) to check on supplies. No milk, no bred, 2 bottles of lucozade and half a packet of Lamberts. It was no good Thrisha would have to wait, man could not live on fist alone and i was nearly out of fags.

Fired up Nelly the Nissan and set off to the local ethnic shop round the corner (hey it was a 150 yds and drizzling) but it was shut and baracaded with sandbags. So i started to drive and believe me nothin was open this side of Rotherham. Finallyi could see a shop.The sad thing was there was half a mile of traffic and 200yds of water between the head of the que and the nicotene oasis. Stuff it opened the door and jumped knee deep into what could best be descirbed as an open sewer or the Ulley river as it is known. It was at this point i realised that in my haste i had left the house wearing my slippers, my white love heart boxers and my Freddie Says Relax Tshirt. It was a little cool to say the least. As i waded to the front of the que the water got deeper and the cheers grew louder. Quite what they were so happy about i do not know. Onwards i prevailed and it wasnt until i reached the shop that i turned round to see a double decker bus, a fire engine, dustbin lorry and assorted cars following in the slip stream of my wake. With various waves, hoots and shouts of hero they were on their way. I duly posted a fiver thru the letter box received my fags and headed back to the car. It was at this point a Royal Army Engineer approached me and said he was looking for a hero just like me. Would i help him save a power station, countless homes and the M1 motorway. Well im out now i thought, Trisha would be finished and i had a couple of hours to kill before countdown so i said yes.

'Where are we goin Sheffield?' i asked.
'no thats really flooded and the army are in there already' he replied.

I always new the army would end up in Sheffield one day i thought. Typical yorkshiremen though. Too tight to part with anything, even floodwater.

'No we need you to help at the dam on the river Ulley. You best put this on Frankie its gonna get a lot colder'

'Its Christopher i replied and my nipples always stick out like this'.

I duly donned my bright orange jump suit and coupled with my Russell Crowe beard (which was by now taking on a life of its own) I looked somewhat like a well fed resident of Guantanimo Bay. We arrived at our destination and was relieved to hear that i would not have to lift, walk, carry or for that matter take part in any physical exertion. I was hoisted by crane over the torrent to the dam wall. I was just about to step onto terra firma when two soldiers grabbed my legs and turned me thru 90degrees. Hello sailor, i thought and as i started to struggle it was explained to me that there was a 4' x 4' crack in the wall of the dam approximately the same shape as my ars3. With a little jimmying and a lot of vaseline i was duly inserted. I got a little nervous when i overheard some of them talking about it being a possible terrorist attack. Codename RAMADAM i think, but there was nothing i could do now. I was the english version of the little dutch boy with his finger in the dam. The only difference was i was a little fat bloke using my aris.

Unfortunately as the floods did not sudside until Thursday i missed me giro and was laughed out of the building when i tried to explain i had been busy saving south yorkshire from a perilous fate. To top it all i missed the crapitans phone call and got duly overlooked for the seconds and got dropped to the firsts. Didnt want to play with those losers in the stiffs anyway. The 1st's is the place to be and who cares if i ended up there because Else would rather field a scaffolding pole at square leg than me. Ashley Giles has got into a test side on less merit than that.

Anyway today arrived and to make a good impression i parked in the car park rather than by the door. Partly becuase i didnt want to look too eager and partly because it was only half past one and some jobs still needed doing. Its a long walk from the car park, at least 50 yds, and all uphill. I was knackered by the time i got there 10 minutes later. Still i think i look quite fetching in my orange jump suit. Although the sweat stains are starting to come through a bit now, especially after wearing around town last night. Still got quite a few looks, with many of the ladies smiling at me in that smirkey kinda come and get me way.

2pm
Im really, really, really, really, really, looking forward to playin today and showing this lot want Planticus is capable of. After all i am the daddy of the number 8 spot.

2:15pm
B0ll0cks, didnt want to play anyway, too wet and too cold. And if one more person calls me Robert Read i will explode!

Still ive got some Jeremy Kyle videos to catch up on, provided me settees not floated away. Think i might also write to Russell with a couple of pics of me in my jumpsuit and my t shirt and boxers. I think he would appreciate my heroics.



Post Edited (30-06-07 21:58)

haha Planticus:oD

balls 2 yellow jersey, orange jump suit for next year

:oD:oD:oD

your really gonna have to take this to the big stage here bravo

gets better pal hahahahaha

*screen

it was 11 overs for stan and then the pro that he is came in and stole the 3 rabbit wickets, and 1 of them was only a little baby rabbit who was still driving the pro off the front foot.
but bloody hillarious cant wait for next diary keeps me going in my old age.:oD:oD:oD:oD:oD

I do laugh when I think how much time Bravo puts into his comic masterpieces!

You mean your using a ghost writer!!!!!!!!!1 I thought it was all your own work.

have been asked by the bbc to do a band of brothers style mini series. have already written to russell but not had a reply yet. maybe some more photos of planty in his pants will tip the balance.

Dear Diary

Tuesday brought a telegram from Rotherham City Council inviting me that evening to a grand civic reception. I would be awarded freedom of the City of Rotherham and receive a special bravery commendation by the towns two most famous sons. All this for clenching my posterior and holding back a torrent, bit like a Saturday morning after a visit to Raj at the Vindapoo Express . Happy days. Apparently, part of my freedom status enables me to walk my flock of sheep through the town, should I choose. If only I could get a local to hold one of the woolly bleeders for me! That night I wait on stage with nervous trepadation as the Chuckle Brothers flank me and we listen to the Mayors speech.

‘It gives me great pleasure…bla….blah…blah. To acknowledge blah….(their hair looks even spikeyer in person than on telly) Christopher Plant….blah….(wonder what it would look like with a beard) a hero of the city.’

With that Barry Chuckle moves to hang a medal around my neck. I duly oblige by lowering my head only for Paul to shout
‘to me Barry’.
Barry hands my medal to Paul and says ‘to you’
I lower my head again only for Barry to shout ‘to me’
‘To you’
‘To me’

This continues for 18 hilarious minutes with me looking like the nodding Churchill dog and these 2 comedy greats keeping the assembled dozens in raptures.

Wednesday I awake still wearing my medal at a relatively early 10:45. I kick flossy out of bed and examine the brown stains on the sheets. One of us had been too lazy to get up in the night. Unfortunately the offending skids appear to be on my side. I slide effortlessly into the now signature clothing of the orange jump suit, picking up my fags and a bottle of lucozade along the way. Due to the council condemning my old settee last week, because of all the sediment and various fluids (nothing to do with the floods you understand but all my own work), I had ventured to DFS as there happened to be a sale on, which was lucky. I purchased a rather nice white leather armchair, although the brochure called it a 2 seater settee? I now have an incredible urge to don the retro sunglasses left by TGO on his last visit. I light a king size café crème (must remember to be more specific to Bravo in future when telling him to ‘get me anything’ at duty free fags) and turn on Trisha. Oh yeah you sweet thing! I don’t know why but sitting there with my jump suit unpopped to the waist, my shades on, my medallion nestled gentley in the thicket, a café crème in one hand and a mug of lucozade in the other, I have this incredible urge to say ‘now then, now then. Hows about that’, everytime Trish makes a shocking revelation.

Thursday no news from Russell yet but I expect he’s busy. The crapitan is on a £15 Scum break so it falls to Bravo to announce the team. Yes back in the seconds where I belong. Not with all the show ponies in the firsts. A little miffed to be dropped as I haven’t been out yet for the firsts, granted I haven’t actually played a game yet but what the hey.

Friday night and the games called off already. S0ddin cricket stupid sport, think I may take up rhythmic gymnastics instead.

The Sun - 8/10 the 'planty gets a medal' isnt as funny as the the rest of the series, good in places with the expectations rising each episode

;-) lv ya really bravo;-)

Sat 14th July

Dear Diary

10am and I am rudely awoken by a dull thud on the doormat. Who could be distrubing me at this unearthly hour. I venture downstairs with a lit Cafe Creme, half a bottle of lucozade and pick up the remnants of the doner pizza scattered on the bottom step. Breakfast mmm best meal of the day. Due to the betrayal of flossy being 'serviced' by the alsation next door i no longer have a companion to fetch things for me. On the upside i have a freezer full of lamb chops and joints to last a lifetime plus a lovely rug in front of my freeview telly. I retrieve the letter from the mat and am very surprised for it not to have any red writing, or the words final reminder. Instead i notice an australian post mark! Result! Russ has replied. I settle into the extra large armchair open the envelope and start to read, as i fiddle with what is now a full grown David Bellamyesque chin warmer.

To say Russell uses colourful language is an understatement. His letter is no more than 2 paragraphs long but contains the f word 74 times. 'F ing pervert. F ing freak. Stay the f away from me, f ing weirdo' are just some of the jovial banter contained in his note. What a guy, really down to earth and not up himself at all like some of these hollywood types. He has returned all of my photo's, obviously realizing they are of sentimental value to me.

1pm
Manage to get the car so close to the dressing room that everyone has to slide over the bonnet starsky and hutch style so they can get through the door. This is relly funny until Matty, Sully and Bravo all try to get into the changing room at the same time. Still how much can the front suspension for a nissan cherry cost anyway?

Normally el crappitan gives a team talk with Bravo interjecting various turrets induced adjectives. Today i feel confident enough to share my Gladiator experiences with them knowing it will be inspirational to the team. I recount how Gladiator has moved me to the rest of the lads. They are stunned into silence and hang on every word. Some, mainly the juniors, are moved to tears at my recollection. Im not convinced that Jordan reverting to the fetal position is a good thing but hey you can't please everyone. I finish my talk and the stunned silence is only broken by Bravo's hysterical laughter as he lies at my feet, b4st4rd. My first thoughts are that a half dressed man (with the wrong half dressed) is not a pretty sight. Having said that its the first time in years i have looked towards my feet and seen genitalia. Granted its someone elses but it brings back memories just the same. The second proves the saying ' i laughed so hard i p1ssed myself' is based on medical FACT. The others finish dressing in silence as i wring out my socks.

The Amberlantis boys were here extra early, partly to marval at the delights of carpet that doesn't smell of raw sewage and grass, yes GRASS. Also the fact they have evolved webbed feet means it takes longer to get their shoes on. Im no Einstein but i think they have a first teamer in their ranks. Maybe its the Ambergatte CC 'look at me i'm a cricketer' track suit or maybe its the vocabulary of 'yah, yah in the ones and guffaws every 5 minutes'.

Bravo opens with elcripple and actually faces more balls than he scores runs which is a surprise. I actually have time for 2 fags this week before being called upon.

As i stride to the middle i can hear a chorus of 'for those about to bat we salute you!' T0ssers. I shouldnt have to put up with this, ive got better things to do on a Saturday. I should be in the ones, wearing a sexy tracksuit.

I block the last few balls of the over. Else comes down the wicket to impart some benign advice.

'Planticus, on my command unleash hell!' as he walks away sniggering i wonder who i have upset to deserve this. Granted the list would be long, aint karma a b1tch.

Very riled i decide to slay anything that moves. Drives, slogs, reverse slogs. I play the lot on my way to my majestic 114. i even manage to run some 2's, which for some reason are called easy 3's by everyone else, including Arthur the scooterman. The Chelsea pensioners up in the corner seem to be happy and do the Mexican wave. Considering they consist of 5 blokes with walking sticks on a bench and one in motor scooter its a little uninspiring as a visual spectacle, but the thought was there.

Im that kn4ckered i cant even face beef sandwiches a tea and settle for a few fags and some lucozade.

In the field and Mr 1st 11 opens the batting. a mad slash prompts Bravo to to point out that batting is a bit more difficult at the crease than chirping from slips for 46 overs. Que another mad slash and Little Bravo (aka Jordan) mentions something about fly fishing which goes down really well with the man at the crease. Another mad slash and it becomes painfully apparent to tracksuit man that the bowling in 5N isnt as easy as you may think.

At the other end Matty is struggling and i am begining to wonder if he is getting into the side based on looks and not merit. Bit like Anna Kournikova but with bigger cleavage and a lot hairier.

Sullivan enters the attack and el crapitan puts 3 men behind square due to Sulli being able swerve it miles down the leg side. The umpire points out that 3 men behind square is a no ball.

'No problem' replies Elsey and proceeds to put all 9 fielders and the keeper behind square. Discussions continue, diagrams drawn and when all else fails the umpire produces the following algebraic equation to get his point home.

3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10 > 2 = NB
NB=1R
208R = Lost game.

'I see your point umpire' and a more conventional field is set although notty still decides to keep on the boundary, behind leg stump just to be safe.

Bravo comes into the attack and surpisingly takes a 5 fer. Not surprising he got 5 but astonished that they were all old enough to vote and could walk without assistance. We are turning into a bit of a double act. He's the Sonny to my Cher, the Little (Large) to my Larger, the Dean to my Torvil. Ooooooh Jane Torvil, oh yeah you know it baby. Cracking legs.

After everyone has gone i take care of the final piece of business. I take the hand crafted figurine of my dear Flossy (well actually i knicked it out of an Early Learning Farmyard animal pack) and proceed to the centre of the colossium. I kneel at the square move some dirt and place the plastic sheep in the hole and cover it over.

' i will see you again one day my friend, but not yet'.



Post Edited (15-07-07 22:49)

:oD:oD:oD back to its best

Sat 20th July

Dear Diary

Russell Crowe is a p00ff and i want nothing more to do with him! Restraining order my a4se. I am now modeling myself on a man of the people, a hard man, a man in my own image, Michael Carroll. All the girls love a bad boy, oh yeah.

I have to leave early this morning as the club tailor will be at the ground to fit me for my 1st 11 track suit. Christopher Plant 1st 11 player has nice ring to it i think. I don my new signet rings and chunky chains, which only cost a fiver from chesterfield market and leave the house. Mother, who lives next door but one opens her window and asks lf i have my vest on as i know how my asthma plays up when its damp.

'fuch off mother' under my breath and a one finger salute are my reply.
'don't the b1tch know i am a bad ass mother'

the blank doe eyed expression on her face to my hand salute is replaced by a smile when she asks 'is this how all the young kids say hello these days?'

not having time to explain i just reply in the affirmative and get in the car.

as i pull away from the curb i see my mother come out of the front door with a big knowing smile giving me the finger as i drive off. if that werent bad enough mrs gillet next door also gets the same greeting as does mr habib at the mini market across the road and little jacob the 3 yr old from down the street. stuff it he would have learnt it soon enough at nursey anyway. kids today they grow up so fast.

Mr. Grayson the tailor insists that to get the most accurate fit i must be completely naked for my fitting. This seems a little odd but i want to look good so i comply although i insist on wearing the bad 4ss jewelry which is my new trademark.

'oh yes, i wouldnt have it any other way' he replies, a little out of breath. i suppose he too has had to walk from the car park.

now i am no expert but Mr Grayson is either not very good at his job or he is very thorough. He has to take my inside leg measurement 8 times. I have seen tailors blow on the end of the tape measure to warm it up but blowing on the end of my old fella is a new one on me. Still he's the boss and seems to e very happy in his work.

Mr Grayson takes my measurements and knocks up my tracksuit on the sewing machine in the back of his van. Now thats service. I am told Yeomans 2 man is a special new hard wearing fabric. After he is gone i find a secret pocket in the lining which low and behold has a sleeping bag in it. This is quality, none of that JJB rubbish for me now. Becks in LA, Planty on the Cross. Two peas in a pod.

As far as the game goes its pretty uneventful dont bat after scoring 114 the week before. Do these people know who i am. Do they not realise they are in the company of greatness? And Paul Lemon of course. I do manage to take the second catch of my career only for it to be given not out and earn the tag of specialist fielder.

Oh well looks like 10 pints of strongbow and a fight with a little bloke may be required this evening. Arent chavs brilliant?

Weds 24 July

Supplemenstral

We have a 20/20 cup match tonight with the toffs of Breadsall. I am a little late leaving for the match due to having to buy mothers Regal king size from the mini market for her because she is banned. Fancy an ASBO at her age. I do think the black eye she got from the postman is quite fetching and suits her. She says thats what you get these days for just trying to be friendly and give people a wave.

Breadsalls not that posh if you ask me. They cant even afford have a full width road. i mean who in their right mind builds the pavement out into the middle of the street like that?

I take off the track suit to put on the whites and a latern and camping stove fall out of the secret lining. Fantastic kit this. I wonder if Ray Mears has one?

I am quitely confident in this format of cricket. We have filled our side with thrashers, sloggers and relics from brannos mid w4nk league. For some reason they seem to have filled their team with cricketers. Fools.

They thrash us all over the park and Greabo cant even bring himself to bowl. He just sits rocking at fine leg for 20 overs. As we come off the pitch i notice a naked man wearing nothing but an apron with a mop in one hand and swigging from a can of diet coke in the other. He says he's come straight from work and that his team could take us anyday. More ramblings about never being able to play and if they had played another 6 games they would be top of the prem let alone div 3 and that Langley Mill is the centre of the universe are heard before he slumps into a sugar free induced coma.

i actually get a bat due to the inadequacies of the mortal fools ahead of me and am determined to make it count. Unfortunately i take a mad stroke at something very close to my leg and end up putting far too much wrist into my effort. the result is a truly dreadfull mess squirting out into the covers. Story of my life really and i slink off back to the pavillion only to hear mr mopp exclaim that my burberry helmet looks silly before he dozes off again. We lose quite easily in the end. I blame bravo. Where is a baseball player when you need them.

Still we are playing at american adventure this weekend so im looking forward to that. Greabo an me are going to dress as cowboys to get into the spirit and i think a couple of the lads are going as indians so it should be fun day.