Perth Parables Part 2

Day 4

Today we definitely left the postcode, and headed out to the Northeastern outskirts of Perth. Meandering through the suburbs of Perth it was interesting to observe how subtly different, yet also familiar, some things were here on the other side of the country. From these passing observations and the short time I’ve spent out west, I can see why many people love living out here. As far as sporting facilities go, I would have to say WA punches so far above its weight. I might be easily influenced, because we don’t even have change rooms at our home field, but they have certainly impressed me.

Our opponents today were the ACT, who have often been on the wrong side of the scoreboard over the last couple of carnivals. In my books, fielding two teams from such a small region is a great effort and they continue to strengthen each year. Once again, I might be biased because my homie, big Simon Fahey, is from there but it’s great having them in the mix. Needing a big win and results to go our way, we were fielding the full Tahtell. We also kept an eye on the Vico game, as a win by them would negate any result from us.

Super skip Ben Middleton, always calm, won his first toss of the trip and we elected to bat. Our playing area for the day was one of the quirkier I’ve had the experience of playing on. One side was as big as the MCG while the other was standard. Nothing too out of the ordinary except if you were throwing from or hitting to the long boundary. Most interesting, at fine leg there was a baseball field complete with clay base paths. One of the players had an issue with the 2nd base area and so the umpires decided to create the “Flying V.” Located at a very short fineleg or a small punch over cover from the far end, it created a unique challenge when setting the field. Hey, it is 2024 and if everyone is “safe” then we can proceed. Getting into the spirit, I enthusiastically encouraged everyone to attack the V, whenever possible.

Talking big game after Ando and I jagged a few runs in the last game, we got promoted up the order to 8 and 7 respectively. Fortunately, we weren’t required as the boys had a field day out in the middle, and we could hide behind Tuesday’s partnership a day longer. After Threadgeate left one on middle early on, it was starting to look like maybe this wouldn’t be his trip. Little did we know, you can’t keep such big DD energy down for long. Shortly after being dismissed, he was spotted loitering around the FrogBox*, with some questioning whether he was trying to erase the evidence of his innings. From there, Rusty and Emu steadied the ship before both eventually departed, one more graceful than the other. This might have been an opportune time for DD to cut the cord on the live stream. I’m just glad they didn’t have FrogBox back in the day when I was bowling, you know pot, kettle, calling, black…

This set the scene for a massive partnership. Bennie the skipper had called for us to score more runs and he delivered. Alongside another of my extended family of roomies, Scott Meale, they smashed the poor lads to all corners of the ground. Ending up with a partnership of 163, before Mealey finally departed on 84, we were well and truly flying. After an enterprising cameo from JK, we closed out the innings at 4 for 264. Bennie stood undefeated on 108 and my only criticism could be that they didn’t attack the Flying V enough. Semantics aside, it was the performance with the bat we all needed and signalled that, as a team, we were hitting our straps.

Heading out to bowl, Skip brought his mobile, so we could have one eye on the Vico game. With a finals birth still on the table and being too far inland to catch the Fremantle Doctor yet, Ando and I shared the new rock. After a few early strikes, more from Ando than me, we could see the Mextralians had gained the ascendancy in their respective fixture. With just a win (ie not trying to swing for the hills and bowl them out for 30, which wouldn’t have happened anyway) now the only thing on our minds, we taped out so Pate and Threadbare could charge into the attack. Not getting the message that we could take it a little easy, these guys absolutely decimated most of the remaining batsmen. So wild was the carnage, at one stage both bowlers were simultaneously on hat-tricks! Pate had been killing it all week, but this was the moment DD got his mojo back. My only guess was that they were thirsty, and I’m sure no one had issues with an early day anyway.

Some resistance from the final partnership proved that ACT are more than making up the numbers in this competition. After what felt like an eternity, Rob Blake snared the final wicket of their top scorer (S. Chaudhary 41). Not only did he win us the game, but he also captured his first wicket for the Tahs. Having taken the first ever wicket for the over 40s Waratah’s (sorry if that sounds self-flagellating but someone must set the precedent and I was just in the right place at the right time), I can tell you it’s not only a relief but a massive honour to grab your first wicket for the state. As for where it occurs, that’s largely out of your hands and you can only take the opportunities that are provided. Needless to say, I was so over the moon for Blakey to take such a well deserve wicket.

Stoked after another win, we were resigned to the fact that tomorrow would be a play off for 3rd place. Personally, I didn’t care too much about what position we were playing off for the next day (Yes, disappointed about losing but still must enjoy the trip). I was stoked to see everyone get a go and just soaking in the team spirit was enough to keep me going for a while. I’m a big believer in that you can’t judge any relationship until you see it in both good and bad times. For a team that can be simplified as when you win and lose. As a member of the (over 40s) Tahs for 3 out of the 4 times they’ve been assembled, I can tell you their spirit runs deep. They’ve celebrated every win and still kicked on after each loss. From all this, I can only confirm from my biased perspective, that the Tahs are going strong.

Emotive hyperbole aside, we headed back to our digs and had a bit of time to kill. Some were keen for the pool, I suggested a toe dip beside the Como Jetty. Everyone decided the pool was the best option, but I needed to feel the local environment, so I headed off to the Swan River for a dip. To my surprise, the newest wicket taker for the Tahs decided to buck the trend and come along. Against the chorus of “there’s bull sharks over there,” we defiantly rebuffed everyone. City slickers and farmers (No disrespect, I’ve lived in cities over my life and currently work on a farm, rad people come from everywhere) know way less about bull sharks than someone who lives in Ballina anyway, I hope.

Blakey also wasn’t scared, without disclosing too much about him out of respect for his privacy, I’d guess he’s faced much more imposing situations than a couple of bull sharks. Tins in hand, chins wagging, we waded out about 100 metres from shore. Here, the water was about waist deep, and we were roughly halfway along the jetty. As brave as we were, any further progress would have taken us into deeper water. Not wanting to tempt the bull sharks, and satisfied with our little adventure, we decided to hightail it back to land. NSW Vets were also shouting us a feed, so it would be a shame to get laid up in hospital missing both a limb and a free dinner.

Dinner was amazing, and as always the company was top notch. As our brothers, the Blues, filtered off after dinner to rest up for the next day, the Tahs had other plans. Straight across the road to the Karalee (Watering hole in native, local dialect) we continued our tried-and-true formula. Eventually, after a few too many nightcaps, for me at least, and a shed load of banter we too headed for bed. It would be my last night in the loft, which was a bittersweet feeling. Detouring on the way home, I busted into one of the ACT boys’ rooms trying to locate a match ball for tomorrow. As much as I sold it as official duty, deep down I did enjoy waking them up and causing a bit of harmless ruckus. They are just lucky it wasn’t 15 years ago or I’m sure there would have been an antiquing and possibly a bit of lost hair. Finally back in bed, I would get some shut eye before the last game of the tour.

Battle of the Loft - Bully 79 v Sleahya 91

Drink of the day - Emu Export and White Russians

Waratahs - 2 from 3

MOTM – Ben Middlebrook

Tahtell - 19 victims (Pate 9, Sleahya 5, Ando 5)

*FrogBox is a company that provides live streaming for cricket matches.

Day 5

I’d love to say that I bounced into the final day full of energy. Unfortunately, due to a mix of illness, exhaustion, injury and extracurricular activity, this wasn’t the reality. Finally succumbing to the cough that had been going around, even the Powerade tasted like nails, I was in a world of hurt. Struggling was the exact word that would describe the situation at my end of the loft that morning. Juxtaposed to my fellow Loftarian, who’s set up you could have set your watch to, bleary eyed I was trying to stuff my kit with a pile of crap from the floor.

Eventually, I was ready and let the power of gravity carry me from the loft. Flowing down the path of least resistance, like a twig being swept away in a current, I cascaded down the stairs and into the bus. Here, I ended up wedged in the corner, stuck tight and going under. Languishing at the bottom of the bell curve, with no time for encouragement or friendly banter, this was survival. So out of character was the ensuing silence that the boys though I had missed the bus. I could hear them asking about my whereabouts but couldn’t even muster the strength to answer. Although they were probably enjoying the moment of serenity, they needed me for the numbers. Bennie, had gone up to the Blues, leaving us with exactly 12.

With the reshuffle of personnel, we were still in a good spot, as no one would miss out on the last day. It also gave me the motivation I needed to push through my ailments and get amongst it with the boys for one last day. Struggling through the warmup, I started to get nervous as Pate, stepping up as skipper today, headed for the toss. Moments later, when Pate won and elected to bat, I had a sudden burst of energy and bear hugged him out of sheer relief. After helping with throw downs, I spent the next 2 hours rotating between sitting on the toilet and resting in the dirt at the base of a gum tree. Maybe it wasn’t such a smart move to submerge myself in the Swan River yesterday evening after all. Nah, actually I’d do it again, if ever given the opportunity (Not saying the river is unclean, but may have got a bit of swan shit in my beer…).

Meanwhile, on a decent batting field, the lads set about their work out in the middle. After losing a few early poles, we were stalling at 4 for 47 and I was starting to nervously, scrape around for my batting clads (coloured pad covers). Being a tailender, someone would always use my clads and I’d have to put them back on in a rush before batting. Luckily, Big Emu and Threadgate, weren’t in the mood for rolling over. With a very determined knock of 45, pushing through injury, Emu turned the tide for us. However, what happened shortly after was almost unbelievable. After a slow start to the week, Big DD (That’s Matthew Threadgate if you haven’t been following along) went to town. His innings was like a huge, gigantic and well girthed afternoon storm, beautiful to watch from afar but filled with absolute destruction if in its path (Please don’t be offended he’s a Urologist not a pornstar).

Following on from yesterday’s efforts with the cherry, DD muscled the ball to all corners of the deep mid-wicket boundary. During a mesmerising display of hitting, I started to fear for the safety of the local wildlife in the trees, people on the hill, any passing motorist or even the planes flying overhead. While in this mood, even if you had everyone on the boundary there would be no stopping him. Disappointingly, the whirlwind knock finished just short of three figures on 97, but was no doubt one of the highlights of the week. Enterprising cameos, from again JK and Rob, got us to a very solid total of 8/254 from 45 overs.

Heading out to bowl, with plenty of runs to defend we felt we were a good chance. After Ando had to run off and get some treatment just as we went on the field, I unexpectedly grabbed the new pill. Pairing up with Patey, we toiled for a couple of early break throughs (including Pate’s 10th for the week! Fuck yeh you legend), but the game continued along on an even footing. With no team clearly in the ascendancy, Pate pulled the changes, bringing Ando and Threadgate into the attack. Toiling hard, they managed to whittle away 4 more wickets as the arm wrestle continued beyond the 30 over mark.

Showing some stubborn resistance and cashing in on the great batting conditions, South Australia kept pushing us the whole way. Late in the day, with the game still in the balance, I came back on. With an over from Russ interspersed in the middle of my spell, I was operating with our spinners, Rob and Mitchy. Unfortunately, the elusive dismissal didn’t eventuate, and the South Australian’s chased the runs with 2 overs to spare. Fittingly and quite stereotypical of my mediocre bowling returns, the penultimate runs came off an edge through slips for four. As Russ would have jokingly put it (but didn’t), “I lost us the game,” for the second time this week. (Remembering this is only friendly banter) So by the “I touched it last logic,” this week I lost us 50% of the games, while on the other hand Rob won us the other 50% of our games.

I try not to get too disappointed by the outcome, as at this age I don’t have to try and prove anything to anyone. I know my competitiveness and just how I was born (monotone, expressionless face, unkept appearance) often get taken out of context and rub people up the wrong way. However, when people can see past this exterior and realise my intentions are for the greater good, even if sometimes misguided, is when I feel most comfortable and shit gets real. This love of being around good crew and trying to get results for my mates is what keeps me coming back. Fortunately, that was the kind of environment we had in the group this week. Anyway, that’s enough emo shit, so back to the story.

Having a quick post game beer, in yet another finely organised clubhouse, I was obliged to shout the team. Reason being, while we were out bowling and there was a dearth of wickets, I decided to encouragingly shout “keg ball*.” Moments later, Ando charged in and the batsman, who had barely put a foot wrong, suddenly popped up a catch. He departed the field on 67, while shortly after 47 dollars departed my wallet, shouting the lads. An expensive mistake, but not too much damage in the grand scheme of things. It’s also another great indicator of how good they have it over here in the west. Once we downed the beers and finished the final presentation, it was back to the resort to prepare for the closing dinner and also my escape.

Rushing up to the stairs for the last time, I was excited to tally up the final results in the Battle of the Loft. To my surprise, Bully was laying supine in his bed. As I enthusiastically hassled him for his results, I was shocked to find out he’d broke down in the warmup and basically couldn’t move, let alone play. Putting a bit of dampener on my friendly little contest, I decided to average our results across games played and try and make it a bit fairer for Bully. Unfortunately, after crunching the numbers, I still came out on top with an average score of 28.5 points per game, against Bully’s 26.3. For the record, he did manage to take out the consolation prize of most headbutts to the roof, on a margin of 2 to 1. As there was no official prize on offer, it was decided I could keep the beer box scoreboard as my trophy.

With our gear packed, we jumped in the bus and headed for Optus Stadium. Heading up to the function room, we arrived just in time to catch one last sunset over the Swan River. As my flight was only a few hours later, I just had a couple of drinks and a light feed. Scanning the room, I was blow away at the number of familiar faces that dotted the place. With the clock ticking away, I tried to get around and have a yarn to as many legends as I could. Before I knew it, time had evaporated and I was at the airport. After one last drink with one of the best bowlers I’ve ever had the privilege to share the field with, Ando, we went our separate ways (love you too Patey). In another blink of an eye I was careening back east through the night's sky. Too exhausted to reflect on what had just happened, I pulled my hood on, turned up the tunes, fought against my relentless cough and just drifted away once again.

Battle of the Loft - Bully 79 (ave 26.3) v Sleahya 104 (ave 28.5)

Drink of the day - Coke by day, sparkling wine by night

Waratahs - 2 from 4

MOTM – Matthew Threadgate

Tahtell - 22 victims (Pate 10, Sleahya 6, Ando 6)

Thanks to everyone that supported, helped organise and/or participated in this event. It was a fantastic experience, with a great bunch of people. Hopefully see everyone around the grounds soon, until then take it easy. Also never forget that cricket is a great leveller, so treat others how you wish to be treated.

Up the Tahs!

*Keg Ball is a cricket tradition where you need to call “keg ball” before a delivery. If a wicket falls on that delivery, you must shout everyone on the field a beverage. Often used as motivation, it is implemented in varying ways, depending on a club’s culture.