Northwood Preparatory School was the venue, Pinner's new home ground. Getting there can be a problem, as locating the correct private road in the Moor Park area is no easy task. Then, one has to navigate an unwelcoming humped road, flanked by huge houses with well-manicured lawns, suitable certainly for garden cricket. The school playing field was pleasantly situated between a wood and the Metropolitan Line (just on the boundary of Fare Zone 6). It resembled, however, as one of the shorter members of the FZY team put it, a 'dog track'. Emphasis on the 'track' here and not the 'dog', for nobody was asked to don a black and white striped shirt to go in at no.6. But, as English cricket endures a long season of navel gazing, it is sad that one of the few junior schools in the country which has the facilities for proper cricket, has them in such a bad state.

The pitch itself was greenly tinted and it scuffed easily owing to the recent rain. It had the texture of a steam pudding. Meanwhile, fielders could have worn stilts in the outfield and still not been spotted among the long grass and daisies. This certainly reduced the number of runs that may have been expected.

Guess what? Marksy lost the toss and FZY were invited to bat. Seven out of seven. The start was delayed as the Pinner captain, who had asked for a one o'clock commencement, didn't actually arrive until ten minutes past, to the general dissatisfaction of colleagues and opponents alike. Anthony, who had trained up from Bournemouth in the morning, would still have had time to catch the half past one train back again, though, as he registered his first duck for two years. At the time the ball hit the stumps, he was trying to fathom the unpredictability of the bounce - there was a ridge on a length at the Railway End which delivered him a grass cutter.

Sieffy and Ben got the innings going, slowly but surely. Whilst the former dabbed singles (mainly through the gully), Ben looked to open up, but the ball hardly came on to the bat at all. Impetus was provided by Charlie, of course, whose 28 was truly a cameo. He didn't play many shots which were slowed down by the outfield. His partnership with Reggie was worth 48 in just four overs, and it meant that from then on, FZY were always ahead in the match. Reggie kept the runs coming, despite having to run more twos and threes than he would have preferred. He was in better nick than Shorty, though, who obviously prefers the ball coming on to the bat more quickly.

Their partnership was worth 50, and set up a manic finale as the 42^nd over approached. Reggie reached his personal 50 with a boundary, but Shorty was preposterously given out lbw standing halfway down the track soon after. Then, the v-c was involved in two consecutive run outs, first his brother, out for 1, and then Wisey, who didn't even face a ball, and was run out (on Reggie's call), by the proverbial mile. Wisey, already slightly peeved, stomped off to the car park to share his thoughts with the Patriot which hangs from his rear view mirror.

Tea was scoffed from the Scorers' table, cheese or eggie sandwiches from a tin foil wrapping, with lots of crisps and pop. Just right for a junior school, really, not a great effort compared with some teas we have known. FZY moped around generally - surely the runs would be enough, but the mood was heavy.

Pinner started off in positive fashion, but Wisey was steaming in up the hill. Howzat? went out a shrill cry, but unbelievably, 'not out' was the response. Upon polite requests from the bowler, the umpire at that end was changed upon completion of the over. Not that it made much difference - three other very good shouts for lbw were all refused, and it was soon obvious that the bowlers were going to have to hit the stumps for their wickets. Even that didn't help Flossy, one of whose deliveries brushed the off stump without causing the bails to drop.

The feeling was that ten wickets would be difficult to come by, especially given the seemingly endless stream of southern African batsmen. The breakthroughs came later rather than sooner, and whilst Charlie and Sieffy got in amongst the wickets, a couple of favourable lbw decisions would have made a big difference. The number 4 batsman came out regaled in a blue helmet with visor, which caused some merriment given that not one batsman so far had even required a thigh pad. He hung around for a while without scoring many runs before he was stumped by Anthony by a long way - who knows but maybe he just couldn't see the ball?

Resistance was offered by a tall batsman with curly hair and a French-sounding name like Zinedine or Lilian or something. So the close fielders decided a bit of sledging was in order - Marksy compared Sieffy to Malcolm Marshall, for example - and it worked, with the spinner bowling him out. On his way back, our man had a 'Serge' of adrenaline, thumping his pads hard with his bat and shouting 'you c***!'. He soon turned round to apologise, though, explaining that he was merely annoyed with himself for getting out.

In the end, the overs ran out, and a draw was comfortably achieved by Pinner. FZY gained the winning draw points, however, and with two games left are within eight of Pinner, who only have one match remaining. There were handshakes all round, but plenty of moans in the away dressing room, about one thing or another. Outside, the Met Line trains hastened serenely past, and the tranquil mansions of Moor Park watched the little cars go home.

Guest reporter: Kofi Anand (United Nations Weekly)

Eight players for this game supplemented by Dick the Bat Maker and two local farmers... Anthony lost the ninth toss of the season... First wicket fell in the seventh over... Sumo hit 41 and found some form... Dick was 55 not out at the close... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz... Shorty 46 not out as Clint took pads off... No ducks on tour, yet... Strange phenomenon at tea: local taxi driver Ivor Fareatlast drives onto outfield and a London woman gets out, to be greeted with a brief embrace by Shorty... It turns out that she wasn't his room-mate, though... Home team reduced to 32-6 by Wise, Marks and Ross... Even Clint takes 2 wickets (both bowled)... At 56-8, they can't win, surely????... 112 runs later, in the last over, with the no.10 batsman on 72*, Flossy is hit for six... Funny old game, cricket.

Something strange happens: Sumo wins the toss (hardly makes any difference, though)... Eight tourists supplemented by Lawrence (TFC) and Dave Court, who has apparently played for Somerset ...lovely batting track, as usual, although Flossy doesn't use it much, even though he's bowling to a twelve year-old opener.... Big score on the cards early on... Big score achieved... Norm the Aussie is sheer class, but at least all the schoolkids are dismissed... Tav bowls well, Dave Court gets hit around, Wisey comes on just in time for the final slog, and gets neckache... Mrs Wise and the soon-to-be Mrs Ross leave, unimpressed, at tea time (Mrs Levy left before the start)... Only Anthony of the batsmen gets in... Dave Court hits 3, 6 and 5 in his 14 (an all-run five, too, with Anthony, who apparently called for the fifth)... Clint bats like Dick... Tav achieves the first duck on tour, followed soon after by Sumo, and then Tav avails himself of another in the Otter Inn afterwards...

With Marksy back as skipper, it was back to the form book as he lost his seventh toss out of seven this season. He may have a long way to go to match the record of Quixall Crossett, the horse which confirmed its position earlier in the week as the least successful in racing history by failing to win in any of the 76 races it started, but he does have a fifty-fifty chance each time.

On a true batting surface, Edgware started hesitantly, Wisey bowling one of the openers and Flossy bowling the number three. However, there ensued a long and, for Edgware, fruitful partnership between the better opener and the number four. Notwithstanding the fact that they were the ONLY two batsmen that Edgware had, at times it was Feniton all over again, with sevens and eights an overcoming regularly. The stand reached 122 before Charlie got his first wicket, bowled, which was to represent an almost unprecedented 79.7% of the team total.

Both of the batsmen reached fifty, the opener grittily and the number four more stylishly. He wore an Irby CC cricket shirt, and another clue to his origins was a thick Scouse accent. But he played straight - he didn't nick anything. Several of the attempts at fielding were poor, to say the least, but Charlie took it upon himself to take his own wickets and rifled through the middle and lower order. His six wickets - at a cost of 40 runs - were all bowled, including three in four balls. Marksy also got in on the act, with one delivery which came back from outside off to hit middle (he'll tell you), but then spoilt it when he induced a catch to Flossy at cover.

Strength in depth was again a factor in FZY's supremacy. And with Harvey Samuels coming in at number ten, Edgware were seriously lacking in that. In addition, they had a wicketkeeper who, besides the fact he couldn't catch, made Derek Randall look sedate. And so to tea, which is very civilised and acceptable in the Pentland Pavilion, although it doesn't come anywhere near to Devon standards.

Anthony scored 52 in 25 overs, Sumo batted all through for 53 not out. Wisey suffered a nasty toenail injury and had to retire, Shorty administering the last rights to the innings. The rest, as they say, is zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.......

Guest Reporter: Steve 'The Cooler King' McQueen (Stalag Luft North Quarterly)

The man at the centre of the maelstrom was David Jacobs, one of their leading batsmen, who had not played for Edgware for a couple of years, but remained on their books whilst away at university. In the 1998 season, though, he had apparently slipped in a couple of performances for Vale, and the Maccabi committee took a dim view of Edgware's intention to play him in their team for this match, which would go a long way to decide the outcome of the League. Edgware, whilst accepting the decision grudgingly, took out their indignation on FZY, whose captain had alerted the Maccabi committee to the situation. Or, in his own words, "I opened the tap and the committee let the water flow out." Whatever the rights and wrongs, Edgware allowed the situation to get the better of them.

Meanwhile, FZY, adopting the attitude expected of defending champions, managed to concentrate on the cricket, and to wicked effect. Marksy for once did his job, and won the toss. At last, a chance to bowl first, in a League system which favours the side batting last as they don't have to bowl their opponents out to win. Fired up by a pre-match rallying cry from Wisey, which carried echoes of the old days, they stormed out onto the large expanse of greenth at the Wilf Slack Memorial Ground. Wisey took his favourite East Finchley End, whilst Reggie opened from in front of the tennis courts.

The Edgware openers began cautiously, but the bowling was tight and demanding. Soon there was a chance, as a slash off Reggie travelled straight towards Moishe at short third man, but the ball ended on the floor. The reprieve was temporary, however, as proved in the dramatic next over from Wisey. First, he bowled one of the openers, with the hint of an edge as he drove. The number three batsman was Antipodean, which in no way prejudices the events which follow, but just goes to show the lengths some teams will go to try to get a head start over FZY.

Calling for a single off his first ball, he checked in mid-run and had to hobble towards the non-striker's end. No sooner had he arrived, he clutched his upper right leg with one hand, pointed at the umpire with the other and demanded "I call for a runner!" Half the FZY team smelt a rat, the other half smelt something fishy. No writhing in agony on the floor, no soulful wailing about missing out on a medal. Just calling for a runner as soon as he reached the crease. Farce was added to the situation as the other batsman came down the wicket and piped up "Oh, your hamstring hasn't gone again, has it??"

Reason prevailed, of course, and the umpires refused to allow a runner immediately. The cup of Edgware indignation was now filled almost to the brim. The Aussie finally had enough of waiting for the umpires to change their minds and went off, retired hurt. The remaining opener was then dropped off Wisey, by Sumo, and again at short third man. This time, the damage to Sumo's finger was much greater than that to his reputation - he earned a big and painful bruise to show all his friends. But again the reprieve lasted only one over, as Reggie claimed his first wicket since 1996 with a straighter than straight ball. It was amazing that Edgware had not commented on Reggie's eligibility to play, given his prolonged absence from the FZY team, enforced though it was.

The Aussie then returned, as if by a miracle, and with a runner, but he didn't hang around for long, caught one-handed by Sumo at cover. If it was all getting a bit confusing, well, FZY stayed focused, with Wisey in the groove and happy to bowl all day. When Flossy, who had been brought on to replace his brother, broke through, Edgware were left with only one decent batsman. And at 48-4 when the drinks came out after 21 overs, their progress had been slow, too. Under the hot sun, it was the bowlers who kept their cool, and the fielders, too. The fifth wicket to fall was a run out. Two balls earlier, Clint at midwicket had come close with a foot-flick field and lob at the stumps which narrowly missed running out the non-striker. Not heeding the warning, the non-striker charged up the pitch again, but this time Clint swooped, gathered and threw down the middle stump at the bowler's end with a direct hit.

It was like a arrow through the heart of Edgware, and the innings subsided to Wisey and Flossy. Ben took an important catch, and Anthony a quite bizarre stumping. Seeing that the batsman was wandering out of his ground without due care and attention, upon taking a ball through from Wisey, Anthony pushed it back with his gloves, hitting the stumps. There were hoots of approval from the fielders and the batsman could hardly hide his consternation.

Wisey finished with 5-24 off 18 overs and Flossy 3-24 in 12.3. Top effort all round. Tea was taken along a strictly divided table delineation in the pavilion. Even the umpires had their own marshmallows. To FZY, tea was rather tasty.

It didn't take too long to knock off the runs. Shorty was out, by his own admission, to a toilet shot, and Anthony tried one drive too many, but Moishe and Ben saw FZY home steadily. By all accounts, it was rather unpleasant out in the middle - maybe one of the more printable comments, and certainly the most ironic, was when Moishe strode out to be greeted with "aha, we must be down to the tail now!". Then, the keeper thought he had Moishe run out, but the umpire disagreed. So much so, the wickie kicked down the stumps with his boot. Naughty and not nice. He was duly and rightly reprimanded by a finger-wagging ump, who warned him that one more discretion and he would be reporting him to the League. The League will probably have lots of Edgware-related items for discussion without any extra disciplinary ones, thank you.

Results in other games played at the weekend meant that, with one game to play, FZY led the table by two points from Edgware. This year, the margin of victory in this fixture was only eight wickets whereas last year it was nine. But the psychological gulf is even wider - whilst FZY got their act together in the sunshine, Edgware spent their time chasing after the rags they had lost somewhere. Someone said it was like they were high on illicit substances. Surely not!

Thanks for coming, by the way, to Marksy, Sumo, Clint and DK. Onwards and upwards.

Guest Reporter: Michelle de Bruin (Killarney Gazette)

Reinforced by three Old Habs players, FZY arrived at the Arnold House ground without a captain. Charlie, who hadn't had the honour before during the season, was elected by his peers. The ground, situated between Canons Park station and the stumpy White Church which gives its name to the area, came as a pleasant surprise to those visitors (all of them) who had expected to be playing in the nearby public park. The weather was warm and sunny and there seemed to be no rush to begin the game. Charlie revived his knack of losing the toss, but it turned out that he had not been tossing up with the captain, so a wait ensued until the latter turned up, and informed all that FZY were to bat.

So, with tea decided at 'between innings' - or was that 'a quarter to five'? - Afzal and Ben strode out to bat. In the second over, and before he had had a chance to work out the pitch, Ben received a snorter which left him (another occurrence of 'Rurka's drift') and he was caught behind. Of the remaining ten wickets to fall in the match, only the very last was another catch, with eight bowleds and one lbw in between, which describes rather well how the pitch was playing. Once he had worked it out, Afzal played a superb innings, combining defence with some wristy shots off the balls which were there to be hit.

Batting with his Saturday team-mate Shorty, the innings moved along slowly but steadily. It was hot work in the field and two spinners were operating in tandem - a rare enough sight these days. Shorty, nurdling whilst never fluent, was bowled for 29, but that brought in Charlie. With his first three scoring shots all boundaries, a cameo or even more was possible, but he was soon slowed down by the pitch. From the boundary's edge, it looked like an artificial it was so green, but it had the tactile characteristics of plasticine.

Afzal reached his fifty with a driven four. It is believed that he is the first Muslim to make a half-century for FZY. He was warmly applauded at the time and then, soon after, as he returned to the pavilion, bowled for 55. Clint was in and out, undone by a zipper from the Whitchurch Lane end. The ball kept so low it had to wear a Davy lamp. Two overs later, Charlie was given out lbw, suffering a similar low bounce. Shorty as umpire thought long and hard about the decision on his captain, searching every conceivable reason for any which could be used to give him not out, but eventually the finger was apologetically raised.

A further collapse was averted by Moishe and DK, who showed enterprising running between the wickets in a bright stand. With 42 overs gone and the clock showing 4.45pm., the fielders believed that their work was done, but the batsmen stayed put. So another over was bowled, before the same thing happened. This time, there was no turning back - the fielders doing Charlie's declaration for him. They were rather miffed at him not having done it himself, believing that tea had been agreed for 4.45pm. Charlie steadfastly stuck by his side of the argument, that he had been told tea was between innings. So, for the second week running, it was separate tables at tea time. It was also possible to boil the kettle on the steaming heads of some of the Oakdale boys.

Notwithstanding the arguments, tea was very good. Top marks were awarded to the freshly-made sandwiches, although there was a reduction for some cheap cakes and poor milk provision. The game restarted at about 5.20pm, which left exactly one hour to go before the last 20 overs were to commence. This was ten minutes earlier than the visitors had previously imagined. DK volunteered to don the keeper's gloves, for the first time for a few seasons.

After an opening over by Flossy, Simon Levy came on at the other end. No relation to the absent Anthony, Simon is an Old Habs player who wears glasses and a long blue piece of elastic to fasten them round the back of his head. Bowling left arm round the wicket, his first ball pitched outside off, bounced reasonably, and hit off and middle. As the stupefied batsman retreated, team-mates huddled Simon. Moishe was keen that he should be signed up immediately for FZY, and Tav was invited to draw up a contract on the spot. Shame, then, that Simon could only get two balls an over to pitch after that, but he did claim another scalp with one such, proving that the (lack of) bounce could be an ally if you did 'use the facilities'.

With Flossy pitching in with one bowled wicket, Oakdale were unsteady at 35-3. Their number 5 looked particularly unsteady, too, as he propped himself up with his bat when facing and moved his feet very little. His partner was a more sprightly batsman of West Indian origin, with a penchant for hitting the ball very hard and very far. Charlie and Afzal replaced the openers, but could get little response from the pitch. At 6.20, the final hour was called, and already 20 overs had been bowled. So 43-40 was not an unfair split of overs at all, especially as Oakdale had won the toss and elected to field first.

The captain actually left at this point - Charlie had some important family business to attend to. At the time, the 110 runs required to win seemed a long way off, but some lusty blows by Learie Constantine kept them in the hunt, and his partner Long John Silver began to nudge a few runs, too. Let's not dwell on the fact that they often called 'yes' when they meant 'no' in order to try to confuse the fielders. Down to ten men, the visitors began to struggle a little. Shorty was by now installed as skipper and brought Tav on to bowl, but the short singles were more frequent and so were the boundaries. One huge drive was almost caught on the ropes by Clint, but it fell for a six. There was little further sign of the next wicket.

The equation came down to 18 runs off three overs when Flossy was brought back. He was, it is fair to say, a bit worried that FZY might lose the game, dusting down his favourite 'On the ones, Ys!' catchphrase as the going got tough. When he came on to bowl, it certainly brought a bit of excitement to the proceedings, as batsmen, umpires and fielders alike were subjected to the wrath of the Floss. It worked, though, as a couple of wickets, including a tumbling catch by Tav, stemmed the flow of runs and saved the day.

A cricket match is a cricket match, although one when either side is unlikely to win it means no winners at the end of the day, including cricket. Today was that kind of day, with the 'facilities' promising much but eventually delivering little.

Guest Reporter: Monica Lewinsky (White House Gazette)

A pleasant ground and the prospect of reasonable opposition led to the early assumption that it was a fixture FZY would wish to retain in future years, and so therefore would have to play a decent game of cricket. Unfortunately, several senior players were unavailable, including Flossy, whose stag night had ended about 12 hours earlier with him trying desperately not to slobber all over a scantily-clad member of the canine sorority.

Sparky had been called upon from the wasteland of Belmont 3rds to increase the average age, and there was a guest Boer from Borehamwood, Mark (identified as such by the inscription on his necklace), who hadn't played for ten years and threw out his shoulder with his first return from the outfield.

Marksy lost the toss - nothing new there - and FZY were thus consigned to 2 3/4 hours in the field, on a warm and hazy afternoon. One of the opening batsmen, nicknamed 'Tree', was very tall, the other, shorter, wore glasses and sported an Afro haircut reminiscent of a Martin Luther King acolyte in 60s America. But both could bat, and survived the opening burst from Wisey (uphill) and Marksy (down), although not without the odd ball beating the bat. Several times the ball went through to Sieffy behind the stumps, and there was also an unfortunate drop by David Tropp at mid off. At last, Marksy made the first breakthrough, after the openers had posted a partnership of thirty five in seventeen overs.

The second string bowlers were Sparky and the pardoned DT. Sparky removed his vest earlier, as the fielding got hot to handle. Despite one or two relatively sprightly stops, this quickly earned him the moniker of 'Granddad'. As a combination in the field, he and Sieffy also provided a non-stop, bewildering brand of commentary, some of it relevant to the game, some of it not. With these change bowlers on, the questions were asked of the FZY fielders, as the ball was spanked to all parts. Mainly ridiculous answers were given, like Sumo's footwork (his fingers still sore since the Edgware game), like Tav's chase under the sprinklers at Highgate to retrieve a straight four, and like DT's second drop, an excruciatingly easy return catch which he managed to juggle but not hold on to.

In the next over, DT exacted a kind of revenge by bowling out his man with a fifth-bounce direct hit which so confused and embarrassed the batsman that he tried to invoke the old playground rule that prevents dismissal by a daisy cutter. Batsmen four and five were strong, though, and the score raced along. It needed the introduction of Sieffy (replaced as 'keeper by Wisey) to try to stem the tide. The move was partially successful; the runs kept flowing, but wickets also began to fall. After a drop by Clint off a sharp chance at midwicket, Sparky took his first wicket for FZY since 1991, a sharp catch by Wisey down the legside.

It wasn't enough to save his rather expensive spell, however, and his tactic of copying the crocked arm of Muralitharan didn't really come off. Tav, his replacement at the Highgate End, could equally get little out of the flat pitch, and Marksy had to bring himself back on for the last few overs. Meanwhile, a bronzed Adonis batsman was timing the ball to all parts, scoring 76* in many fewer minutes. It would have been less if the declaration had been made nearer 4.30pm. than 4.45, but the innings ended at the fall of the seventh wicket, with a direct hit by Sumo from cover.

The total was recorded as 228, but subsequent auditing of the scorebook by FZY's army of professionals during the second innings commuted this to 218, and the target was reduced after negotiation to a compromisory 223. Maybe North London weren't to know it, but this was a total well out of reach of an FZY without a middle order to speak of.

Tea was in the crowded pavilion, with four teams tucking in simultaneously. Fresh chilled melon was a pleasant (and healthy) innovation, and the fare was hearty in the best traditions of club cricket.

Clint and Shorty opened up the visitors' innings, the latter playing his seventh game in nine days following an arduous jaunt to Devon for the Old Habs tour. Wearing absolutely no clean kit and with little in the reserve energy tank, his determination to make a dent in the 125 runs he needed for the FZY seasonal batting aggregate record was immense. Clint dug in, and although he was outscored by extras, the partnership reached 66 in even time. The opening bowlers - an Irish/Pakistani combination - could get no life out of the pitch, and accuracy often suffered, resulting in testing times for the wicketkeeper. In all, North London used eight bowlers, primarily, though, to give everyone a chance, it seemed.

When Clint was bowled, Marksy entered the fray. Once he had got over the shock of batting at number three, he settled down well, occasionally launching one of his trademark offside smears. But when Shorty was out for 68, retiring to enjoy a long shower, the innings lost both momentum and wickets. Tav, Sieffy, Mark the Boer, Jayes and Tropp could manage no more than 20 runs and little more than 20 minutes between them, and, amidst the mayhem, Marksy was triggered by Clint, far down the track as he pointed out, but still obscuring all three stumps.

With 6 1/2 overs remaining, only two results were possible. For Wisey and Sumo, encircled by the close in field, no more encouragement was needed to stay out in the middle than the prospect of Sparky next man in at number eleven. Mission was accomplished at 7.45pm., in darkening gloom, as the draw was confirmed by Sumo's dead bat. A relatively successful conclusion to the fixture, then, and with tighter fielding and a little more strength, a closer match may have been possible.

Guest Reporter: Earl Spencer (Althorp Express)

MA Ross, who had obviously been groomed for the occasion, uttered the magic words of the Katubah, JS Moss drank the wine from underneath her helmet, Rabbi Cohen pronounced them husband and wife, and it seemed that a long partnership was about to begin. At the end of the third over, the Best Man (one of many in the crowd whose surname ended in -oss) inspected his box and, on finding it to contain two rings, proceeded to present them to the two people at the crease (without injuring himself in the process).

Now well into his stride, MA Ross cracked a front-foot square cup determinedly. Then, singing broke out on the eastern terrace, and some of the crowd had smuggled musical instruments past the usher and began to play them at the commencement of the tea interval. Meanwhile, there were cameo innings from A Ross, J Ross and S Ross, the Under-19 Internationals.

The action then moved to the outdoor square, where the official photographer began a very long spell bowling out of the sun, and spent much time deliberating his field positions. The crowd mingled socially, and some famous faces were spotted: Billy Graham; Maureen Lipman and the Man From The Heineken Advert. At length, 'over' was called, and there was a pause in the action as the convoy left for the pavilion.

The Willesdsen Indoor School was looking majestic, even regal. Inside, the sound of champagne corks could be heard from the popping crease. There was a long queue at the entrance to the refreshment tent and, as is common at tea time at the Lord's Test, the visitors were introduced to the royal family one by one. Once downstairs, it was clear that the captains had arranged the batting order according to a well-drawn up tactical table plan. The final score was 220 all in. But was it lunch or tea? Well, on the Mike Gatting principle that they're both the same anyway, everyone tucked in to their melon starter. Then there was salmon, then chicken soup, then chicken, in a succulent cacciatore sauce, and then everyone was caught in two minds: four scoops of ice cream or six pieces of fruit?

The Best Man elected to take the extra half hour before coffee to get the speeches in. He began the session with some frank revelations through the off side before a few quick puns from MA Ross kept the chortleboard ticking over. There was a bit of good-natured sledging involving geminical rivalry, but the Mother of the Bride soon stepped in, had a word with the fielding captain, and issued a warning that the maximum number of head-high phrases allowed by ECB regulations had been delivered.

The evening session saw plenty of merriment on offer, and the crowd reached its noisiest level of the day. One man, by the name of D Wise, brought all his records with, but didn't manage to break any. He did, however, set some interesting fields for the waltz, for Hava Nagilah and for the Spice Girls, as most of the players danced a merry tune.

The revelry continued for some time, until the backbone of the innings was broken, and it was clear to all that the day was soon to end. As the clock struck eleven thirty, the heavy roller (actually a Bentley) arrived to whisk away the happy couple to their wedding night abode (probably to watch Richie Benaud and the highlights on TV). It was a marvellous match, with some quite remarkable shots, especially by the video cameraman. And the champagne moment? Well, it has to be Flossy, for a truly remarkable catch........

Guest Reporter: Yente (Anatevka Advertiser)