Clay Cross CC

Sat 28th July

12:30pm
As Greabo and i have entered into the spirit of playing at the American Adventure against Shipley Hall we will make our entrance as cowboys together. I am in somewhat unfamiliar territory as i enter Stoneberuit but the land marks given by super dave, specialist fielder are unmissable.
'Left at twinned with Basra sign'
'Straight on at the Ministry of the Double Six'

And there he is in all his glory 6' 3" and i mighty fine looking cowboy. Perhaps Waiting for me outside the post office was not such a good idea. The large looking hold all with the handle of a cricket bat sticking out is bad enough but somehow the locals do not look too comfortable with the Lone Ranger mask and the very authentic six shooter strapped to his waist. Add to that the fact that every 5 minutes he has been looking through the door at the clock and muttering

'if my partner in crime doesnt arrive soon im gonna have to shoot off on my own' and the poor dear behind the counter is positively terrified.

He jumps in the nissan cherry and we make our gettaway, to the faint sound of sirens in the distance.

'nice lone ranger outfit Dave'
'not really i was going for el zorro, the gay blade'

it all makes sense now. the bambi on ice run up, the way he wafts his bat. and most unerving, the way he likes to trace the letter Z into the soap lather during after match showers. Ordinarily i wouldnt have complained as it was my first match, i just wish he had cut his nails before hand. Thought it a little strange that we were the only ones two to a cubicle.

The gay ranger gets totally the wrong end of the stick however when i announce 'the milky bars are on me' to give him a clue to my identity. The remaining 20 minute journey passes in an uneasy silence as we both contemplate Sunni's Indian costume that awaits us.

12:45pm
Arrive at the ground and manage to get the car under the scoreboard stairs right next to the door. Fantastic! The only slight blemish on this are the several lengths of picket fence sticking out of my front grill. Stuff the poncey snobs. The only fences that should be allowed are electric or barbed ones like we have at the cross. And theyre only to keep bravo away from the chocolate cake before the tea interval.

As we get out of the car i adjust my chaps as they are starting to chaff a bit. i look up to see some lunatic running towards me across the outfield wearing only what could best be described as a terry towling nappy.
'Planty, what do think to my indian outfit' exclaims a proud sunni.
'i have come as the most famous indian of all'

My head is doing mental gymnastics trying to figure this one out and Dave also seems to be taking a somewhat unatural interest in sunni's attire. All of a sudden the penny drops
'Ghandi!?' the silly sod has got the wrong bl00dy continent. No wonder American Adventure has gone bust if all the indians have turned up dressed like that.

'Na nice try, guess again. I'll give you a clue. Well i'm the king of the swingers yeah.....'

He's only come as Mowgli from the jungle book. Worst is to come as Rich storms into view.

'If he calls be Baloo one more time im gonna chin you planty'. Apparently the entire 30 min journey has been filled with sunni singing show tunes and badgering baloo greenalgh into joining in.

the smile on paul lemons face is soon wiped off once he arrives to a chorus of Shere Khan from the man boy. Funny, with those markings i would have thought tony the tiger was more apt. Cos the hair and the tan well 'Theyrrrrrree greaattttttt'.

This seems to be all the excitment for the day really. After collapsing like a house of cards previously we have decided we need to bat all tthe way down to 11, sorry 10, forgot dave was playing. The net result is we smash 250 odd for only two wickets. Fanfuchin tanstic. Last week 114 and adulation from the Chelsea pensioners. This week all i have to look forward to is an iritating chapps induced rash and some radox lather with the lone todger.

what did i do to deserve this. Bet the Milky Bar Kid would have sorted Dave out.


Autors note.
JK Bravo is away for the next couple of weeks but stay tuned for my new release upon my return.

'Chris Plantor and the Deathly Bowels'

Saturday August 4th

Dear Diary,

Can't wait for todays game, not only are we away so I don't any pre and post match chores to do, Bravo is away on his holidays at Maplin's. Hi-di-hi!! Unfortunately I had to give up my job as Paul Shane's stunt double so I'm not able to spend it with him!! On a plus point, we'll have a proper opening bat and we won't get whined at when the Crapitan brings Sulli on to bowl instead of him!!

Having got over my Russell Crowe fetish i decide to revert bac to old ways. Plenty of ale down Brampton the night before a game. This was the pre match ritual of my new hero, football player and film star Stanley Collymore. Now there was a fine chap, when he left the Forest scum anyway!! I managed to pick the team scorer up without a problem, and wasn't happy when i had to collect our stumper as well, how was I going to get that extra 6 stone in the car??

The game was pretty forgettable really, apart from my 32. I was never out though, that bleeding umpire didn't have a clue. i may well have been stood right in front, swinging acroos the line but its not on. Big Stan would have kicked him in a place that it hurts!! Think the skipper may have got some runs, but they were negated by the fact that he wouldn't let me bowl!! Went off while fielding for a big dump, made the excuse that I had cut my finger, think that covered my tracks. Christ it smelled bad, like I'd passed a rotting weasel!!

Had to give the Umpire a bump start before I left, was tempted to push him into the lake after the decision he gave me. Still, at least we had a proper pace man playing today, Harland was rapid. Quicker than Bravo's pies by 20mph, lovely!!

Off to the Vic now for some Rum, mmmmm love rum, it tastes like beef sandwiches!! Mmmmm beef Sandwiches!! They taste like Rum!! Mmmmm rum, they taste like Beef sandwiches............

Sat August 18th

Foul mood today as i am late. I never miss my period. Im sure it had something to do with Sanjay's 'special sauce' on last wednesdays kebab.

To get my spirits up im going to have my hair done before todays match. Have found some old smash hits magaizines under the bed whilst trying to retrieve a piece of peperoni that had fallen off my chin during breakfast in bed yesterday. God, Tony Hadlee and the Kemp brothers were good looking. Also read some Mike Read gags which are just as funny the 10th time you hear them. Some things never change including Big Franks material, even after he's dead. Cracking taste in sunglasses though.

3 hours later and im off to the ground. Serge says that my auburn blonde hi lights make me look at least 4 1/2 lbs lighter. Still in a foul mood though. Early to arrive, so lots of jobs to get out of, p1ssing with rain and i bet theres no beef sandwiches, still no blob on the horizon, hope the decorators arrive soon. Bravo is back this week so maybe we might just be able to bowl a side out for a change.

Park 6 inches from the door and am distraught to see there is no one with an umberella waiting to escort me inside. What do these indians do once we let them into the country? Probrably had a fan only and not an umbrella operator work permit. Will have to do my best to dodge the dots of drizzle. Unfortunatley as my frame covers half an acre i am drenched by the time i get inside. We'll not play in this, cricket is a summer sport. Hate rain, hope my Nice and Easy creation doesnt run in the wet.

Everyone arrives and i feign the sh1ts. No jobs for me then. Go outside to watch the last sight screen go up and through the drizzle am horrified to see el crapitan tossing up . I do think the wellingtons, yellow sou wester and inflatable safety raft worn by the visiting captain are overdoing it somewhat. Great we have won the toss and are to field. My mood darkens further. What happens now if the period fairies arrive? The only thing with wings i have are water wings. This will be great, i cant even catch a dry ball let alone a bar of soap. Bravo looks good though, slightly tanned and has arrived just in time from the south of France. A 15 hour car journey i am told. Thats dedication. Notty on the other hand is late. He has been held up on the epic 90 minute journey from greater Mablethorpe. All is not lost though as he arrives at the end of the 3rd over, just in time to retrieve the 4th boundary off Bobs bowling as it sails over the ropes. Another 5 overs pass and the man who models himself on a subject from a Bill Lowrie painting has arrived. Apparently the delay was due to putting the headband on back to front. Notty gleefully informs his now sodden teamates that he won £50 of Co op vouchers in last nights Karen Carpenter Memorial Wet T shirt contest. His success is tempered somewhat by the news that two other contestants have come down with pneumonia and one was washed out to sea due to coldness and ferocity of the buckets of water hurled at them by a slighty jealous Alison Moyet who was judging said contest.

I bitch and complain for the next 20 overs and even fail to get out of the way of a looping drive off Bravo's bowling. As i prepare to see the ball drop between my fingers it somehow sticks! Probrably something to do with all the peroxide on my fingers.

Tea is taken and after one of the opposing juniors feigns a drowning in the outfield the match is called off. About fuchin time. This weather is playin havoc with me hair and i fear im goin to end up looking more like Gene Wilder than a wild man of 80's pop. Manage to slip away to the bog for half an hour and miss the jobs again and have a double result as the wait is over. Think i'll celebrate with one of sanjays special kebabs.