After our visit to Table Mountain we caught the game bus to Claremont Cricket Club where the mandatory inspection of the pitch took place. This ritual occurs before the start of each game; it is taken very seriously. There are no keys involved.

High tech electronic scoreboard.

Limbering up – this is not our team; these are some of the Gents from Claremont. Most of our boys can’t touch their toes. Some can’t even see them.

This isn’t us either.

This is one of us. Trim, taught and terrific. A finely tuned machine, highly skilled in all aspects of the game.

Discussing tactics.

The Little Master.

Slashing.

Running!!

A fatal error.

Pavilion bound.

Refreshments.

More Rules.

The crowd still going wild.

Oops.

I spent the afternoon in the clubhouse, eating thai beef salad and editing cricket photos.

History!

In similar vein to the fines handed out at the warm up game the Gents chose 3 players as candidates to wear the Dick of the Day wig, presented for on field indiscretions. All the players voted and M won (or lost, depending on how you view it). This is as close as Gibbo wants to get to being Dick of the Day.

Entertainment for the evening was this gent with his guitar and music box – and what a gem he was. He must have surveyed the demographic of the crowd and chose his music to suit. We had a great night of singing and laughing and dancing.

The crowd even went a little wild.

We all piled on to the homeward bound bus, tired and happy. Then we had to sit and wait for 20 minutes to confirm whether Frank, a member of a Brisbane team that was sharing the bus with us, was safe and sound. Frank is 78 years young. Turns out he was on the other bus and was probably back at the hotel and tucked up in bed by the time we left the grounds. Now whenever anyone is looking for someone else the cry goes out, “Where’s Frank”? We don’t know who Frank is but we hope to meet him before we go home.