Perth Parables Part 1

Day 1

After 42 years of cruising the Earth, I finally made it to all of this vast nation's states and territories. Some say they save the best for last, but I think that’s rubbish because everywhere is the best in it’s own unique way. Needless to say, Perth was absolutely amazing and a boat load of fun. Well, unless you’re Lento, and just swim everywhere. There were even reported sightings of him swimming past boats during the rest day trip out to Rotto. As always, it was great to be around the veterans crew once again. So staying true to the everyone’s a winner theme, I will pass on my perspective with a few little recaps.

Lying awake here at 2 am Ballina time, I realised heading to the west a week early for a family holiday was great acclimatisation. Even though managing to see the sites, meeting up with old friends and sampleing plenty of cuisine, was already worth the price of admission alone. Although nothing is easy with a two year old in tow, I must commend my boy for being the MVP of the trip. It wouldn’t take a Rhodes Scholar to work out who he inherited that from, but it’s too early in the piece to start talking about my antics anyway.

After a fantastic week together, the patient two thirds of the family headed back east in the early hours. After a good sleep in, I left the hotel to link up with the squad in Como. On arrival I was directed to the loft area of our room that would house 8 players for the week. This is where I would meet my fellow lofty, Andrew “Bully” Bull of Central Coast, and be directed to a bed tucked under a precarious, head high alcove. As always, looking for an answer instead of just accepting my fate, I decided to drag my bed to the other end of the loft. Positive and straight on the front foot, now perched right under the aircon and in acres of space, I set the tone for the battle of the lofties.

One-by-one the boys continued to roll in while a few of us headed off for a quick net session. After this, next stop was the WACA for an opening function. Earlier in the week I did a couple of stalking laps, sighting big Morne Morkel in the process, but to finally gain access was a dream come true. Gathering under the shadows of the distinctive concrete light towers, it was surreal to catch up on such hallowed turf with a bunch of mates both old and new. During our happy snaps, a highlight was spotting one of the local boys Botty, who had grown out his long flowing locks. I was also stoked to look through the memorabilia on display, and was surprised to see the infamous Chappell under arm ball. After what seemed like the blink of an eye, it was time for a quick kip before the action kicked off on day 1 against Victoria.

Losing the toss and having a bowl, we were met with a stiff gale. Michael Pate, the VC and workhorse of the Tartell (Waratahs fast bowling cartel), decided to push into the gale and let Ando and I sail with it. He got us off to good start, claiming our first pole for the tournament. With everyone chipping in, we managed to keep them to a respectable 166 after their 45 overs. This, just like the howling wind, is where our fortunes changed and before you knew it we were 7 for 41. Eventually an enterprising partnership of 78 between Andrew (A to the J) Jalalaty and Mitchel Hamilton would get us back into the game. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t enough and soon I was heading out at number 10.

Enroute to the crease, I received a rousing welcome from, of all places, the adjacent QLD team. This shout out from my Northern Brothers and Thunder team mates, was a great display of the comradeship in Veterans Cricket. Anticlimactically, I soon departed for 1 with the score on 124 and as Russ “coin slot” Gascoigne put it, lost us the game. For the record this was not only a joke, but a great insight for the uninitiated into the larakin and extremely enjoyable ways of this team. My departure also allowed Pate to both red ink it and protect his 150 strike rate, so I guess it wasn’t a total loss. He also said my LBW was plumb, a comment that would be safely stored away in the rage cage for future motivation.

After a disappointing result on the field we would head out for the mandatory debrief over a few Pints, with my only complaint about WA being the lack of appropriately sized drinking vessels. If ordering a tap beer it was seemingly a choice between a thimble (middy) and ridicule or a bucket (pint) and a bender. On the plus side the beers where cold, plentiful and held in fantastic company. Not to let minor issues get in the way, we made do and prepared for the following day.

Scorecard at the end of day 1

Battle of the Loft - Bully 10 v Sleahya 21

Drink of the day - Swan Draught

Waratahs 0 from 1

MOTM - Mitch Hamilton 1 fa 23 and 42 (78)

Tahtell - 4 victims (Pate 3, Sleahya 1, Ando 0)

Day 2

Rising early, I was beaming as bright as the sunlight streaming through the loft window. Initially the plan was to nurse my hammie and manage Andos workload through the tournament. Unfortunately, after losing day 1, the general feeling was that nothing, besides a big win, would cut it today. As such we would be treating it as a semi-final, and there would be no rest for the Tahtell. I needed to lift my game and bring something more to the table.

For a game of this importance (to us, not in the grand scheme of the world), I try and take the "Michael Jordan approach." If it’s good enough for a world beater like him, I’m sure it can benefit a mug like me. Basically, the modus operandi is to make up a few stories in your head about your opponents, then stew on it in the lead up to bowling. Top this up with the support of some excellent teammates and you should have enough motivation to charge in. This is important because it’s one of the factors you can control as a bowler. Although there are many ways to influence a game, such as taking a screamer, when bowling you literally have the game in your hand. Being in the right mindset, increases the chances of getting it in the right areas, which increase the chances of success.

Already charged up, arriving at the game against WA it didn’t take long to find the last bit of motivation I needed. After losing the toss and being sent in, a few over exuberant appeals and mocking laughs at our batsmen was all it took. To be clear this was good hard cricket but not an approach I personally choose to take. From that moment on, I didn’t have to dig deep into the rage cage and the theatrics would begin. As the early wickets began to tumble, I paced around the precinct like a cat on a hot tin roof. Not to take anything away from the excellent bowling on display by the WA legends, but each outlandish appeal or hooted at play and miss pushed my buttons just that little bit further.

Itching to get out there and bowl, it wasn’t long until I strode out to the middle, bat in hand, with the score at 8 for 96. Ed Blomfield had just been dismissed on 41, after playing some kind of overhead tennis shot to a ball that would surely have been a wide. Early on, batting with the big Emu, I was digging myself into a hole. Unable to get off the mark, I started to get nervous, soaking up 12 rocks for no score. Shortly after, the big man holed out and it was looking like an early day for the Tahs.

That’s when Ando popped out to the crease and the game was flipped on its head. Deciding we were just going to have some fun, Ando started us off by gliding his first ball for a boundary. Inspired and not wanting to miss out, I decided to start playing a few shots. Just when you though I couldn’t get any more psyched up, the momentum of the game changed, and we were back amongst it. Eventually we managed to scrape up 52 runs for the last wicket and get our total to a defendable 154, all out in the last over.

During the partnership, I sort of went off into my own world, letting the adrenaline take control. Disconnected from reality, that’s when I may have crossed a line. Ando wore a vicious bumper in the shoulder, that reared off a decent length, from their opening quick. Trying to firmly plant a seed in our opponents’ heads, I proclaimed to everyone in earshot, “that looks good, can’t wait to be out here bowling soon.” Not really thinking, as it was over, I turned to the bowler and fist pumped him. Thinking it was the end of a fine spell and him having 5 poles, I still tried to maintain the spirit of cricket during the heat of battle. Disappointingly, in the shuffle, I forgot to check on Ando’s welfare, which in hindsight was a bit of poor form on my behalf. He was still standing, so I guess it would have been a different story if he fell to the ground. On the plus side, it resulted in another fine for the kitty.

Eventually all good things come to an end, and we were soon back out there bowling. Initially the plans were an all-out assault, with both Ando and I sharing the new rock. Plans soon changed as the Fremantle Doctor whipped up and it was decided I would back up Ando after he ripped in early. As always, Pate and Ando got us off to a cracking start. Pate was swinging it like a 2 piece and Ando was barley playable, bowling far too fast for the batsmen. I must say, it’s much better to watch when we we’re on the same team for a change. In no time, they managed to have them 5 for 40 with an impressive display of new ball bowling.

Holding my twinged hammie back until after the drinks break, to avoid a stop start situation, only further pushed my excitement. As Emu would have put it, to the top of the bell curve. Eventually, I got the ball in my mitts and with a howling tail wind there was only one option. Let it go and attack the stumps. Even though I periodically get myself worked up to try my best for the lads, it often doesn’t bring the results. Fortunately, today was one of those rare days where the cricket gods were on your side. 4 balls into my spell I had 2 poles and was geeing up the boys. Hearing the commotion, the QLD lads ran over from the neighbouring field to watch my hat trick ball.

With all the lads on the sideline shouting encouragement and the QLD crew looking on, it was another missed opportunity. Although the search for a hat trick continues, the mateship of Vets cricket lives on. It’s just a shame they missed Wayneo reaching his half century back on the other field, while being tied up watching me fail to convert. After a few more overs, and some good resistance from WA’s lower order, we eventually got the job done. Rolling them for 106, we had chalked up our first win for the trip. The Tah’s were away, and we still had a sniff at reaching the final.

Buzzing, we headed out for a team dinner and fines session. After a few buckets and with a rest day on the horizon, it was off to the Cas to spend said fines. As it usually goes, some got up and others went home broke, but it turned into a great session. Linking up with the QLD lads once again, we combined forces and talked shit into the early hours of the next day. I’m a big believer that nothing good ever happens after 12pm, but I am also the first to admit I’m often wrong.

Looking to somehow exit the scene, the escape was thwarted as my Thunder teammate Amit excitedly rushed up. He’d just spotted a couple of the Indian test players on the roulette table where we’d just invested the last of our fine money, picking red instead of black. Keen to have a sticky beak, I quickly rushed to survey the scene. There were 2 guys behind face masks, a plethora of plain clothes security staff and a bunch of people keeping their distance. Looking for an excuse to leave, I decided to make my approach. If I got kicked out, I would get that sleep I desperately needed anyway.

Picking on Rishabh Pant first, I pushed through tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a cheeky fist bump. After congratulating him on the recent victory, I blurted, “hey, I got 3 fa today.” Slightly bemused, he chuckled and said, “well bowled.” After wishing him good luck in Adelaide (but not too much), I darted around the table to Mohammed Siraj. Fist bumping him, I said “welcome to Australia bra, good luck in Adelaide.” Just as quickly as he uttered, “cheers mate,” I was out of there and back to share the story with the lads.

Eventually, after a few more investments and a couple of needed refreshments, I smoke bombed it out of there. Riding on a high, I was already stoked with the trip. However, I knew we weren’t even halfway through and there was more fun to come. Although I always strive for results, days like this don’t happen very often. For it to occur twice in the last month, I am more than thankful. Whoever it is I play for, I will always go for the kill, so when it occasionally comes off it would be rude not to celebrate. It must also be noted, I’m sure win, lose or draw we would have still had a cracking night anyway!

Scorecard at the end of Day 2

Battle of the Loft - Bully 73 v Sleahya 81

Drink of the day - Whiskey soda (Don’t need a water thanks, the soda is made from water)

Waratahs - 1 from 2

MOTM - Sleahya 3 fa 21 and 30* (35)

Tahtell - 12 victims (Pate 6, Sleahya 4, Ando 2)

Day 3

After yesterday's escapades, the rest day came at a great time. A few of the lads went out to Rotto, while others had a whack at golf. I intentionally didn't reach out and make plans with anyone and instead hid in the loft for a sleep in. This was nothing against my teammates, but after yesterday's mental exertion of getting so fired up, I needed a break. My teammates probably needed the break from me as well, so let’s call it a win-win situation.

Once I got moving, I grabbed a coffee and then headed out to the end of the longest pier in the Swan River, the Como Jetty. Conveniently located right across the road, I sat for a good half an hour. Feeling ten feet tall, and actually pretty comfortable just being me for the first time in a while, I was enjoying the serenity. Rolled out before my eyes was an interspersion of buildings in the distance, black swans paddling nearby, planes roaring overhead and clear water lapping below. Nature colliding with the surrounding city, jarring opposites yet somehow cohering into a functional balance.

I began to think how the human mind follows a similar, yet more perplexing, dichotomy. Holding the power to achieve great things, but also having the potential to be so fragile depending on the environment or situation. As a cricketer, the on-field results can influence this and cascade into your everyday life. I guess there’s a message in there somewhere. My take is that as you ride the carousel of life, you need to savour the ups because they are usually fleeting. Many days you toil with nothing to show, so when the cards fall your way you have to take it. As for the downs, I guess if they weren’t there you wouldn’t have highs to appreciate.

Having recharged back to my baseline, or the bottom of the bell curve as Emu would put it, I paced down the spacious walkways that flanked the Swan River. After covering a few kilometres, I was notified that there would be a lunch about 45 minutes’ walk back in the opposite direction from my current location. With the headphones on, I chucked the pluggers into 4th gear and beelined it to the required venue. En route to the establishment, power walking along the edge of the Royal Perth Golf Club, I caught a group of familiar faces. None other than four of the legends I travelled to Pakistan with and Brian May aka the "Bush Bradman." Turned out, we were all headed to the same location.

Once at the pub, we encountered a whole host of fellow over 40s cricketers. We all had one thing in common, which was representing the country at over 40s level. Similar to the green jacket dinner at the US Masters, but far less prestigious or anything to do with golf; it was a special treat to be included. When everyone finally gathered, Poolie gave a great little speech. Listening, it really brought to light how far the over 40s scene has progressed in the last 2 years. Although I will probably never get the opportunity to represent the country again, this is a great way to mesh all the tours together. Hopefully it’s a tradition that will continue well into the future, so many more can enjoy the experience.

It was also great to meet some of the guys from other tours for the first time. One of those that I met for the first time was Andrew Downton, who toured South Africa earlier in the year and has previously played shield cricket for Tasmania. Serendipitously, he gave me the following advice, “just be yourself because no one else can.” Not that I’ve really tried to be anyone else, and it may have just been an offhand remark, but the message came at the right time. I guess sometimes the universe is trying to tell you something. After a few more drinks, a light feed and plenty of catch ups it was time to part ways.

Heading back to the accommodation, I was feeling at a bit of a loose end, so was glad when Pate showed up and we could go off and talk a bit more shit. As the afternoon rolled into night and the thimbles started to go down well again, more and more of the boys reported for duty. Trading stories from the day off and hanging crap on each other, we were relaxed and ready for the next day. Chat was also rife about a guest speaker turning up to the closing function. I decided to add to the rumour mill, suggesting maybe Clarence Agar*, the Dean Waugh (No offence intended, a far better cricketer than most) of WA might make an appearance. Speculation aside, we’d just have to wait and see what the following days tossed up. Either way, I’d already gotten my money’s worth and as far as I was concerned the rest would be a bonus.

Battle of the Loft - Bully 73 v Sleahya 81

Drink of the day - Arctic Light Larger

Waratahs - 1 from 2

MOTM – Veterans Cricket

Tahtell - 12 victims (Pate 6, Sleahya 4, Ando 2)

*Clarence Agar is a fictional brother to the more widely known Wes and Ashton Agar. In reality they have another brother (Will Agar), who by all reports is a gun batsman in grade cricket.