Posted by Pete Starkings on 06/05/2017 10:27
Philip Seymour Stubbs waits at the top of his mark.
80 overs, 480 runs and it all comes down to this.
One over to go. Six balls, eleven to win, four wickets to take.
He’d bowled six good overs. But he’d also bowled a seventh. 16 from it.
The batsman was set. A first ever 50, seeing it like a football and hitting it like a hammer.
How did we get here? Joe and Dom opened up. Platform created. A ton from Joe, cameos from Big Red and Staring Stanley.
But was it enough? We batted deep, but many felt Rev was still a place or two high at 12.
In reply they had been in turns slow, then in trouble, then completely out of it.
Rev had bowled well, Bazza had been tight and that guy who shouldn’t have been playing bowled the full eight overs.
They needed to go at 8 or 9 with 15 to go and they wanted around a hundred from the last 10.
This game was over. It was like having them 9 down still 65 short.
But now they were favourites. Intensity had dropped, fielding had been average and the batters grew in confidence.
The first ball flew to the boundary. Goodnight Vienna.
Or was it? A comeback. A dot. A thriller.
One ball. Two to win.
Could we do it? Could we beat back our demons and somehow snatch victory from the jaws of defeat? Could this be one of the great Tavs wins?
No. Leg-byes. Son of a bitch.
A horror defeat and a second in a row to start the season. It doesn’t get much worse… well, 3 in a row would be worse. Bring on the the Shakeys next week.
But a game is always better than no game, and a close game is always a good game. And with the bank holiday ahead of us, as always, it all ended in
a passive aggressive email and a power point cheers