WHAT a game! What a result! What a triumph! The C.B.40 match against Middlesex was all these.

Played in good weather on a fine surface all 22 players combined to provide the best one-day match anyone could remember.

Another large festival crowd cheered home Gloucestershire, “Good old Glos!”

“Well done the Shire” – these and other cries drowned the team’s victory song. I am reliably informed they gave their most emotive performance ever.

No wonder! Set 300 to win and 41-3 in reply there seemed no chance. There was a silence and gloom descending. But Hamish Marshall started to play shots and of course Chris Taylor always does. There was a useful stand but still the best we hoped for was respectability. Hamish was caught at long on – enter Steve Snell. This former trainer with Bournemouth AFC (he was a striker- I wish I had seen his goal-scoring celebrations) is confidence personified.

He thinks he will score a century every innings. He knew what he had to do, believed he could do it and instantly set about winning the match. Defeat was never in his mind.

What followed defied belief. Unusually I must offer one incredible statistic – a stand of 158 in 19 overs! It was glorious!

President Tony Brown compared Taylor to George Emmet. Professor of Umpiring Bill Griffin compared Steve Snell to Botham.

No comparisons please. These were two determined cricketers winning thematch in their own individual fashion.

The final blows were struck by Jon Lewis. He used his bat like a five-iron.

Sixes flew over the spot where Wally Hammond’s cover drives rattled the boundary boards. All season Middlesex have demonstrated they have no idea of how to bowl to Jon. Thank goodness!

The joy of the one-day win should not mask the abject surrender to Worcestershire in the championship. A lead of 200 was achieved in the first innings and yet we lost! Winning a four-day game is like killing a cockroach. First find one, then do not just stamp on it, twist your foot – make sure it does not crawl away. This is what we cannot do. Splendid at finding cockroaches we cannot finish them off.

A debatable decision by captain Alex not to enforce the follow on was the reason given by many for our defeat. It was more than that – our batsmen should have established a lead of 400 plus. Unsure of whether to bash or block we were routed for 138.

On Friday evening the cockroach escaped.

Worcester were back batting chasing a gettable total. The wicket held up, Worcestershire kept their heads. We bowled badly and lost. Banerjee with 1-124 was woefully ineffective but then all our Friday and Saturday cricket was.

Opening batsmen Mitchell from nearby Sedgeberrow batted for over 12 hours in the match. He deserved to be on the winning side, scoring two centuries. He showed determination and resolve. We did not.

But then came Sunday!

A new player, Ed Young appeared in the one-day side. Ed comes from a cricketing family from Cheam in Surrey. He is at Oxford Brookes and has played for the Unicorns. He bowls slow left arm and can give the ball a fair bash. I would play him in the next four-day game and also include Jack Taylor in the squad. Batty – keeping well must bat at seven.

News of a former player was interesting. Steve Adshead is to winter again in South Africa – coaching cricket and working with AIDS victims. Everyone was glad to see him at the Festival, and also to note his appearance in the Derbyshire C.B.40 side – readily answering an emergency call.

Cheltenham is where cricket meets the rest of Gloucestershire and the results are rather like a marriage – highs – lows but basically wonderful.

There were so many old friends to meet and greet – John King who with easy grace works so hard for the CDCA. J V Smith whose service to rugby was supreme. Not seen by me since 1962 when we shared a productive partnership on Sheepscombe Hill. Eric Gordon – 55 years as secretary at Adlestrop, but best of all Tom Graveney and Jack Russell. We need examples in both sport and life. Those two are the best. So gracious – so human.

Crowds were good. The weather held out – we wept one day and cheered the next. It is such emotional extremes that make watching sport so memorable.

This Festival was that - in spades.

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