LALAZAR WIN BIZZARE LEG BEFORE BAZAAR

by Ian Gason

The ANZAC honour and tradition was upheld by the Tokyo Wombats on ANZAC day as, like our fore-fathers at Gallipoli, we came out fighting, got struck down, but fought hard with dignity all day…..and lost.

It was also a special day, not only because Jarrad was on time, but all players were presented with their official Wombats/Hardys shirts. Our ladies admired our shirts, we admired theirs, then the Wombats took to the field looking smart and watched Lalazar play unsmart cricket. Yours truely, Curly, off me cructches and off me ‘long’ run grabbed a wicket in the first over, bowled. 12 months without Wombats was too much for Big Al, and he too grabbed himself a first over wicket. It all became a bit of a blur as wickets came thicker and faster than a cheap porno actor.

A couple of run-outs stood out amongst the carnage. First I hit a bloke on the foot in front of the stumps as he played and missed. Now, I thought it was worth a shout, 10 other Wombats did too. The gent with the sore foot, not one to ever appeal himself of course, huffed and puffed about our asking the question. So busy objecting to our appeal, he ignored the little problem of being out of his crease. Running in from gully, Brett whiped the bails off, and sorry mate you’re out. Perhaps next time you want to argue you’re not out, you might want to do it from the comfort of behind your crease.

In similar style, Black Nikka was able to jog in from slip and affect a run-out, as rather than actually try and get back after a mix-up, the striker continued on so as to argue with his (former) batting partner.

7 down for 11. Jeesus boys, where did it go wrong? Well, the game – literally – slipped through our fingers, or should I say my fingers? Or jarrad’s fingers? Or Luke’s? The Big Guy & Bollywood smashed and slashed an 80+ partnership for the 8th wicket. Early on, The Big Guy gunned one to me at mid-off, which careered through the finger tips on my left hand. A little later, Andy found the edge, but the ball didn’t stick in the gloves. This produced a glove-offing, hat throwing, dirt kicking moment of quiet reflection from Dino. Alot of runs later a Little Richard slower ball went up towards deep mid-on, where The Freak did something Freakish. He dropped it.

Once the partnership was broken, normal progarmming was resumed, and the last 2 fell cheap. All out 128. Alex 3 wickets, me 2, with Rich and Space amongst it too. Acting Vice-Captain Zulu, showed shades of Johnty patrolling an acre around mid-wicket.

Dinosaur and Little Richard got us away well, combining intelligent cricket with agressive strokeplay, until the leg-before festival began. 5 of our first 7 wickets were leg-before. Blokes lunging the front foot forward, blokes hit on the top of the roll, blokes getting struck outside leg from over the wicket. Wombats had had a number of good, confident LB shouts declined, but it seemed that the benefit of doubt was far, far more benificial in the morning session. Lalazar’s usual farcical appealing completes the picture.

From 34 to 5/47 we tumbled. On a day when the Tasmanians shone, Little Richard top scored with 26, and Alex and Luke had a good 9th wicket partnership which took us towards the ton, before the Freak got a freaker that swung back round his legs. Doctor Dave got to face a ball for the first time since 2002, and played a solid innings with some delightful cover drives. He survived a skied ball that went higher than Mount Everest herself but just 3 metres from the crease, and even took two! But Doc, mate, lose THAT cut shot.

Wombats all out 96, an inadequate total, made half way decent by The Tassie boys and Doc. Cultural contribution to our defeat can’t be ignored, but either can one thing: 7 for 11, and we lost? There’ll be a lot of head-scratching at Wombat HQ this week.