"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother."
Though perhaps not as timeless as Henry V's words at Agincourt, Captain Hewitt's instruction to 'get me a bloody hundred, Furner' at the start of the Mogs innings proved equally effective. In fading light, fending off occasional rain squalls that left him battling steamed lenses as well as steaming bowlers, Peter 'Yoda' Furner went on to anchor one of the great Mogador run chases on an afternoon that will live long in the memory of all present at the county ground at Horsham.
A day that finished in such epic style, started unpromisingly, with the captain having to quell occasional disciplinary lapses from his troops as the Horsham 'professionals' played all the shots in the book on a shirtfront wicket. Youthful strike weapon Peter 'Pilau' Rice looked slightly undercooked after a difficult first spell, but the batsmen's relish for anything wide, over pitched, short or in fact straight and on a good length set the tone for this wonderful day's batting. Lewis J wisely retreated to his customary mid wicket position (interestingly marked by a small if well formed pile of fox dung) after being repeatedly wided by a home umpire unaccustomed to his brand of seam and swing. Even the unpredictable Freeland found his line and length harshly dealt with, although a measure of self-control was maintained until a farcical dropping incident at deep backward square from a mis-hooked bouncer off his penultimate ball.
With the scoreboard reading 137-1 after the first 20 overs the Mogs were staring down both barrels, the only wicket falling to the thundering Abbot in another buffalo -like spell. However a big hitting 70 from their behelmeted opener and a classy innings from their stylish no.3 saw Horsham's football shirted crowd on the pavilion terrace crowing into their lager tops.
However the laddish commentary seemed to sting the Mogs into collective action and a howitzer like throw from Tharpey brought about a morale boosting run out whilst an increasing measure of control was exerted by the spin twins Hewitt and Lewis M, only occasionally broken by the ball's graceful, airborne parabola. The Captain's nostalgic and not altogether friendly farewell to a freshly bowled youngster with an "on your way young man, that should have gone over a cover" was surely the highlight from a Mog perspective, especially given his graphic illustration of this technique shortly afterwards. In any case a slightly becalmed Horsham, displaying no obvious regard for their opponents batting potential, declared at 260-5 after only 150 flailing minutes... could their overconfidence be their weakness?
They obviously hadn't heard...
Furner and Tharpe handled the energetic opening attack well in worsening light but the tension was palpable, especially so for Freeland's lower intestine which failed him crucially just prior to the fall of Tharpe's wicket with the score on 43 after 14 overs. Hewitt burst into the vacant no.3 berth and, repeating a sequence of events last seen when Freeland's guts played up in similar circumstances on the '94 Cornish tour, proceeded to smash the ball to all parts in a blistering innings of 44 from 27 balls including two mighty sixes over mid off and extra cover respectively (Horsham's 'young' no.5 take note!). Meanwhile Furner continued to employ a range of Jedi mind tricks to induce the bowlers to slant balls into his pads or wide of off stump to be deliciously clipped through mid-wicket or dabbed to third man with geometric precision.
The fall of the captain brought Freeland to the wicket, now visibly buoyed by a lengthy stay in the gents, and the new found spring in his step propelled him to a swift 58 off 35 balls with a stream of boundaries all around the wicket. Wilting under this sustained onslaught the most youthful of the oppositions bowlers displayed some promising if high pitched sledging, although his threats to 'take his ball back home' and 'tell his Dad' seemed to have little effect on the rampant Mogs batsmen.
By the time Freeland was out playing a tired stroke, the Mogs had cruised past the 200 mark and the asking rate of 8 an over had shrunk to 4 with 12 overs to go. Parker J scampered usefully but fell, Abbot beefed one to cover as the 'wobbles' took hold but all the time the little magician at the other end interspersed delightful deflections with perfectly timed strokes of real power. It was left to Lewis M coming in at no.7 to gloriously smash his only ball to a cheering pavilion full of Mogs to seal a glorious victory, leaving Furner unbeaten on 91 - a maiden Mogador hundred denied but immortality duly his by right.
In a spectacular run chase to rank alongside all others in the Mogs proud history a target of 260 had been chased in only 32 overs! This against one of the largest clubs in Sussex, on a county square, in front of a large and sometimes boisterous crowd.
What a win! What a day! And what a night ahead, as our happy band of cricketers retired to Matt and Camilla's delightful local residence for a corking birthday barbecue.
MWCC Stats