This fixture with London Saints was a good opportunity for the less heralded rump of The Gents’ squad to show what it could do, for seven of the tour party were, perhaps predictably, unavailable. Refuseniks included key players Boddington (family bonding), Fitch (banned for three matches for umpire intimidation and cheating at cards), Dhruv Patel (banned for one match for protecting his average with a forward-defensive shot off the last ball of the innings) and Snelling (holidaying, in France of all fucking places). Strip that truckload of attitude out of a cricket team and try to win a game! In the event The Gents, inspired by Sanjay’s fine innings, did jolly well but the competent, experienced Saints’ middle order sneaked home, though it was a close-run thing. Had they fielded a full team, bowled a hit straighter and had a bit more luck with the catches The Gents would have won. But they didn’t, and Southampton were worthy victors.

This was the club’s 200^th game (five of this side played in the 100^th) and it was a pity that more Gents did not make themselves available. They fielded ten, but last man Kitan was playing in a five a side football competition. Wouldn’t you know it, his side reached the semis, delaying his arrival until 6.30pm. Social cricket at its most chaotic, prompting a loud Mr Hill to observe later that "The Gents are falling apart." Cheers, mate. In the event, Kitan would have had only ten balls to bat but his medium-pace leg-cutters would have given Sanjay another bowling option, hard though the support bowlers tried. Mr Thomas had been whisked away by his missus for a romantic 40^th birthday weekend so Neil Hotston did Sammy Skippers for the hicks, inserting The Gents on a green wicket. Victor loves Medium Pace Trundlers and pulled four huge fours before getting a top-edge in the fifth over. Damo edged to slip in the tenth.

Thus entered the giant Jason Irvin, an interesting character from Dhruv Patel’s and Andy Burman’s place of work, a seedbed of cricketing talent that has also produced such flowers as Wilman and Wright, along with a few pernicious weeds. Having earlier decided to bat left-handed (and having nearly maimed Scibo, Buck and Burman in the pre-match practice and been bollocked by the batty groundsman for damaging the pavilion) Jason reverted to right-handed and played the ball around pleasantly before emulating Graeme Hick’s dismissal off Adams at Leeds. Marching down the wicket to Pearce’s slow left-arm, he was stumped by a mile. Jim then checked his shot to plop back a simple c&b in the 15^th over, to the consternation of the world of sport. The Gents were in trouble. Buck, driving to mid-on as if practising his golf, and Toddy, cutting to point then threw their wickets away with duff shots. Swiss then promised to go back to being a cross-batted slogger. Sixty-four for six was utter pony against accurate, clever but hardly threatening bowling. Also, Saints were having one of those days when every almost every catch sticks, in contrast to their dire out-cricket at Enfield ten weeks earlier. But Hotston would have to bring on the support bowlers at some point. When he did, things became very interesting. Sanjay had started carefully but blossomed when Scibo joined him. Fresh from his vigil at Enville, the Maltese Falcon drove twice pleasantly for four while Sanjay began to play shots all around the park, as the two added 27 in ten overs before Scibo holed out in the 25^th.

Deprived of a bat for most of the summer, and under firm instruction from Sanjay Patel to block everything, Andy Burman was not going to throw away this particular opportunity. He pulled Wathan and straight-drove Old Haberdashians CC guest Griffiths for fours but otherwise played forward-defensive to obtain his first double-figure score since August 1997. At the other end, Sanjay went ballistic, going to his fifty with his ninth of eleven fours, as the total mounted. With no batsmen left, the strategy was clearly to see out the overs. Sanjay, who took most of the strike, spurned a few easy singles but was ruthless on anything short or wide. The club record eighth-wicket stand of 59 was in sight when Andy was bowled Hotston, the ball cannoning into poor Gary Speedtwin’s nose off the bails and causing a nasty gash. He lay doggo for several minutes but promptly sat up like an Egyptian mummy in a Hammer horror flick. The stimulus for his recovery was Andy Mayhew’s observation that his ‘keeper was in shock, so following good medical practice a volunteer would be required to remove the ‘keeper’s box. Lads, eh? Skip was left undefeated on 65, upping his season’s batting average to thirty-plus, and was typically self-effacing about it. What it must be to have that talent.

The Gents were realistic to know that they would have to play out of their skins to win, with a thin bowling attack and still two men short. Credit, therefore, Mr Hotston for reciprocating Gent help in this fixture in 1999 by offering a spare fielder, an offer gratefully accepted. After a good Sanjay speech and a team hug (bless) we were away. The opening overs saw some thrilling cricket as the sides jostled for position. Sanjay was fast and straight, Toddy metronomic while Jim obtained alarming lift from the pavilion end. The big wicket of an out-of-sorts Trevor Mayhew, chopping onto his stumps, gave The Gents heart, ditto when his older brother also played on in the ninth over. Andy Jones, who had batted well at Enfield until being freakily run out by Mr Hill, was secure but dabbed down the leg-side to Jason in Jim’s first over, a great diving catch. In the same over, Jim got one to lift, the ball looping off the shoulder of the bat into Scibo’s safe hands at slip.

Saints were 32 for four but The Gents knew they batted deep. Hotston might have gone early, edging in and out of the unready Jason’s gloves and playing and missing a lot, but he hung in there until Jimmy bowled him. At 20 over drinks Saints were 68 for five, needing exactly five an over. The hosts were relying on the disruption caused by the brief interval to make headway but instead it was Berkeley and the correct, dapper Griffiths who dominated the next ten overs. The Gents were troubled by wides, which was influential in the final outcome but it would be unfair to criticise three chaps who had bowled only 21 overs between them all season before this game. Buck beat the bat a dozen or so times, Scibo got some swing while poor Damo seemed to have trouble in his run-up and lost his line. At least they were prepared to stand up and be counted though, so well done to them. One has to credit Saints’ batting, at its best here, resilient, adaptable and wise. They found the gaps well and ran hard, and although The Gents never cracked the pressure was mounting. Toddy was a whisker away from running out Berkeley and a couple of lofted drives fell to ground only a few yards from a fielder, but 31 runs came in the five overs after drinks. By then, run rate was less of an issue, with 43 runs needed in ten overs. Southampton had no need to panic. Scibo found his line after a dodgy start and outed Griffiths. Spotting his propensity for the back-foot Raderecht dab, Sanjay posted Damo at fly-slip and was immediately rewarded when the mystical Welshman took a great two-handed diving catch diving forward. Sanjay had three overs up his sleeve and used them, but could not dislodge Berkeley. That honour fell to Scibo, a plumb lbw that caused zero consternation to umpire Andy Mayhew.

Still, runs were coming freely despite the wickets. Andy Burman mistook Paul Pearce for the great Statto, announced to all that one straight ball would do for him, then stood aghast as Pearce on-drove Scibo with blistering power to the pavilion, all along the ground! The southpaw top-edged to gully Jimmy with eight runs needed but the batsmen had crossed and Keenan clubbed a four to bring victory within sight. At this point, Kitan appeared, neat as ever in his whites, to great applause. Needing two to win off the last over, Keenan pulled Scibo for four to the Balaclava Road railings to whoops of delirium from the pavilion. It had been the closest game of 2000 and each chap could be proud of his contribution. The Gents, well-led, fought like tigers but could not quite do enough. Saints on the other hand, after a dodgy season ended with two wins against West XI and The Gents in remarkably similar circumstances but with different patterns of behaviour. To the disappointment of the visiting Sky cameras, no toys were thrown from the pram, though Pete Berkeley administered a mild wigging to Jason for talking while the bowler was running in. Nobody threatened a team-mate with fisticuffs, nobody stormed off home early and nobody was terrorised by a small yappy dog. This was only the second defeat of the season, a fine achievement but several players remarked that it did not feel like one, so well had The Gents competed against a good side. Thanks are due to guest Jason for helping out (you’re welcome any time, mate) and Swiss for cutting short his golf weekend.