Isle Of Wight 2006

BWCC TOUR TO THE ISLE OF WIGHT.

BWCC tours always start with a sense of.......unease. Everyone is here. Not too much beer downed (yet). We know where we're going........we think. And we departed with a good omen in that Ruth, our American 'ringer', was delivered to the pub by a most glamorous chauffeuse. My, did he have a smile on his face and a spring in his step, but did he have his passport?

The crossing of the Solent was celebrated by liberal fluid intake - it was v. hot. As we descended to our cars Daffy produced his passport and reminded those within earshot to produce theirs. Cue much serious fumbling in pockets accompanied by Ruth's opening gambit (it got much more fruity) "Guy's you gotta be kidding me?What the ****? Are you serious?"

"Ruth, sit in the back and don't draw attention to yourself."

"Jeez, I cannot believe this ********* **** *****"

"Shsshh".

We got him on......

The IOW is bigger than you think. Having visited Newport twice we arrived a little late (45 minutes due to a bus on fire - a major talking point for the islanders) for our first game to be greeted by our patient hosts and our lonely advance guard, Todger, who was preparing to play Westover Park on his own. The rehydration rate having soared (it was v.v. hot) Lardy announced that he couldn't keep as he was having difficulty standing up. Quite soon afterwards Todger couldn't stand up either as his whippet like sprint for a run ended in a strangled yelp, a torn muscle and a cuddle with a packet of frozen peas. Top start boys.

The match revolved around Gibbsy, Daffy and their number 4, A. Ball. He certainly had one, hitting us for 92 not out!. Earlier we had posted a useful 128 for 2 with Alex hitting 66 not out and Daffy 41 not out, following Robin's 3 and Yoss, who didn't trouble the scorer. Our bowling lacked depth, Lardy coming on third change, and apart from Freddie who took 2-2, almost everyone else got carted, mainly by Ball. They reached the target for 2 wickets with a couple of overs to spare. 

After a post match pint with our hosts we returned to lively Shanklin only to find that the recent relaxation in licensing laws had yet to reach the island.....all pubs stop serving at 11. Woops. Luckily a sanctuary was at hand. The only club in Shanklin - CHAPTER ONE - Wow! You will be pleased to know that BWCC behaved impeccably and didn't dance with the local girls but instead with each other. Messrs Yoss and Pedro (joined suspiciously late by Andy) danced out the last number of the night. And it was filmed. Oh dear.

Saturday was v.v.v. hot and after early excursions to the putting greens we all found ourselves..... back in the pub.

The camping party looked a little chastened after the over zealous manager had suggested that a 2.30am return followed by earnest if light hearted discussions of the days events (with more hydration) was a little OTT. Can't think why.

The team departed for the match at Brighstone leaving Yoss and Pedro waiting for Todger to arrive from.........Casualty.

It gets worse. Whilst lunching Todger got a parking ticket.

Not having a good tour.

On arrival at Brighstone it was great  to see that Jeremy and Kate had joined us.

The main game of the weekend was Brighstone on the west side of the island, where we arrived on time after a pleasant pub lunch. Playing a time game, our hosts won the toss and batted in the scorching heat. We restricted them to 152 for 7 which was a creditable performance in the field during the hottest part of the day. Freddy again bowled well, taking 2 for 21 and Timmeee also took a brace for 28. Jimmer came on a sub fielder for Chopper and took a blinding catch off Chris Davis, while Daffy took the other wicket to fall. We set off well in pursuit of the total with Run Out (12) and Daffy (19) putting on 30 for the first wicket, and when they had gone, Chopper hopped his way to 33 before being run out. Jeremy batted American style and made 5 and although the innings petered out, we were safe at 129 for 7 before Lardy and Busby (last ball) got out in the final over. Match drawn. 

A some what rushed tour dinner followed and after the pub shut (11 again) the party divided. Some went to beddy byes, some went back to the campsite...........and some went back to CHAPTER ONE. Wow. Some nearly got mugged....

On their wandering return Camp Freddie and Run Out had a bit of a run in with the local youth of the 'Oi, you got a fag, mate?' variety. Whilst Camp was busy explaining that ,Yes, indeed he had, and that he would be delighted to offer some to the kind gentlemen, they in turn were pointing at their football shirts and demanding if Jo supported their club .

Cue Gibbsy, who appeared at this vital moment to enquire, in modulated tones, if 'the lads' were indeed Pompey fans.

According to Camp this actually came out as 'Pompeii fans'.

'The lads' were so surprised by this intervention from what appeared to be a middle aged Latin master, and Pompeii fan too boot, that Camp managed to keep his remaining fags and Gibbsy has a new nickname.

Sunday. A morning start after an early departure from the campsite (bye bye Mike!). Sore heads and sore bodies (Chopper now limping) and it was still v.v. hot = need for hydration.

The final game was back at Westover Park against half a dozen of the Friday evening side (excluding A. Ball!!) plus others, who elected to bat first. At 0 for 2 we were in front and remained so for the innings, restricting them to just 120 from their 35 overs (bowled out in 28). Everyone got amongst the wickets, Timmeee, Daffy and Chris Davis taking one apiece, Mustard and Don Pedro two each and star bowler Freddie finishing with three. The run chase was a bit of a procession with Run Out and Daffy putting on 66 for the first wicket, before Daf was bowled for 20. Pedro played second fiddle, his 5 not out mere bagatelle to Run Out's 69 not out, as his imperious form continued. We reached 121 for 1 in the 21st over and got the early ferry.

After an early finish back we came. Many thanks to our hosts Westover Park. Our games were played with great spirit and no lack of skill and what a genial bunch they were. Also to Brighstone and our apologies for no post match drinks but our return to Shanklin for the tour dinner meant we ran out of time.

Mentioned in depatches:

Todger (ouch)

Chopper (ouch)

Chris Davies (ouch)

Pompeii (went in the groin post tour- don't ask.Ouch)

Bat (ouch)

Felty's chest and legs (ouch)

Jimmer's head (ouch)

and finally......Pedro's hat (MIA)

One final memory. On return to the Stapleton Arms that evening and the usual tour inquest, an Australian was chatting to Ruth, Jimmer and Camp. After several minutes conversation he enquired in puzzled tones as to what 3 Canadians were doing in Buckhorn Weston......

A Tour with the flavour of the Mid West.

Next stop Minnesota?

Toodlepip

PEDRO and MUSTARD