The only statistic in which I can have any confidence is that the average age of the team fielded, to use the term loosely, was a lot closer to 50 than 45 and of course a lot closer to 50 than any of the team's individual scores. The one reassuring thing about this is that individual performances are unlikely to decline that much with time. Throws to the wicket keeper cannot get much worse, while the likelihood of actually stopping a ball will, I think, improve once most of our team are actually in their caskets. It brings a new and welcome interpretation to the phrase of leather on wood.

The game started on such a high note. We had the right day and the right pitch. We even had eleven, no 12, players. The trouble with fielding (that loose term again) 12 players is that there can be violence in deciding who has the right to leave the field. Twelve players surging for the boundary line is bound to cause injury, not least as it was clearly the only sudden movement for many all afternoon. Happily the issue was settled when Clivus pronounced himself "done" for the afternoon having on at least one occasion retrieved the ball from some distance and having stopped another with the very ankle that is threatening long term incapacity. No loss, however, as our fielding (loose term) side could then boast the combined athletic magic of Ravi and Mani.

So, the Crossbats took the field, eager to maintain the momentum of our 100% record for the season to date and deliver another rousing victory for our new Captain Charlie. And promising it was until such time as the loosely defined fielders were called upon to play a part. There was some question over the umpire's reactions to one or two confident shouts from our opening pair of Skipper Shalke and Gums Gumley (who incidentally certainly did not look the oldest in the team when the sun was in the right direction). But the lack of support for our struggling opening pair was perhaps best summed up an observation by our oldest of our youngest, "why [on earth] is it that he didn't move a [doggone] inch to catch that?"

So that's the way it went. Desperation turned pantomime when Rossi was put on first change. Never quite the same man since Malta, Rossi nonetheless bowled almost18 deliveries without a wide. But the penetration, also like the tour, just wasn't there and it was left to Frank to make the crucial breakthrough. Thereafter, young Richard made his debut; a frankly mixed bunch which, although on a definitely improving curve, offered too much to the now confident Nashers. Mupes proffered some hopeful bloopers which, had anyone had the slightest catching acumen, could have got a wicket – there is a certain pleasing irony in the fact that the only one that was actually caught also resulted in a “clear” stumping, both of which were turned down by the respective umpires.