Quote of the Week

"Since I've been living in Tokyo, I've spent 20% of my time thinking about work, 20% thinking about sex, and the other 60% thinking about the Wombats."

Christopher Mortimer reflects on his time spent in Tokyo with the Wombats.....
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Pres & Coach rant

Updated October 15th, 2007

Curly's Corner ...... social

Can't bat, can't bowl, can't field? Join the Club mate!! Dunno fine leg from Fine Cotton? Well, kampai cobba, c'mon in! There's more to being a Tokyo Wombat than disgracing yourself on the cricket field.......
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Golden Thong ...... Z-file

Mark 'Killer' Kelly takes 4/22 against MAX to win this week's Hardys' Man of the Match! Killer's figures displace TWCC president as the Wombat with the best ever bowling figures at Fuji #1.
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Check out the players and members that make the Wombats 'The Wombats'. Some true blue characters buried in amoungst the group and it's a good laugh to be had. Some of the character traits are ...... you better have a look for yourself.
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With what started from taking a quick trip down to the shops on the pushy to pick up a carton of milk all went horribly wrong when my brother took a wrong corner and now 25 000kms over a stretch of 18 months in a monster bicycle tour around Australia...

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MILLENIUM ENDS WOMBATS' DREAM
vs Millenium (KCL Grand Final -- Fuji 1 -- 23rd October, 2005)
by Ian Gason
>>>Match Scorecard vs Millenium

Millenium CC have taken out Japan's premier cricketing prize, The Kanto Cricket League, defeating Tokyo Wombats by 3 wickets in a hard fought, low-scoring game at Fuji Sunday. What is heartbreaking for the Wombats is a milestone for Japanese cricket, the first time the KCL has been won by a Japanese team. Whilst the win was made possible by Pakistani Razzaq's spell, it was acheived by an unbroken 8th wicket partnership by two local lads.

The day began ominously. Clearly the boys at Nippon Rentacar aren't the superstitious type that cricketers are. Grand Finals are not the time to be breaking traditions, and I was stunned to fnd they'd given me a new model for the day. Where was our old Wombat Wagon?

Arriving at Harajuku, there was Pete's old wagon, one foot in the vehicular grave, and all the Wombats and supporters, including Mum and Sister Hosking, all the way from Carringbush. The weather was superb, the tourists were treated to uninterupted views of Mount Fuji, as both vehicles made an uneventful run into the ground.

Courtney Jones pulled up second in the pre-game toss-off, and Millenium fancied themselves as chasers. Chuck rallied the boys for one more win, to want the win, to be the best team, to take that one last step to take the prize. Dave O' and Steve went out to open, as Zulu began his Golden Thong Tour of Fuji City (and surrounds.)

Unlike Zulu, our openers seemed to be in control, slow but steady 3 to 4 runs an over. It did take Steve Burke a couple more than usual overs to launch a hook shot into cyberspace for 6. The partnership was broken by a bold personality all the way from England, who had had just the semi final appearance coming into this game. Miyaji got Steve caught behind chasing a wide one, with the score in the 30s.

Chuck was his usual circumspect self, but when he found his feet, he took 10 from 2 balls with a massive pull over square leg and superlative drive next ball. Dave O' got caught, and then the wickets bagan to fall. Chuck dragged one on for 20. Tim Whiskas played a couple of magical cover drives, before being adjudged caught behind down leg.

I had the Dinosaurs heart-beat racing on the last ball before drinks, when I called him through for a run that a fitter, younger man would have made....just. The throw couldn't beat the dinosaur, and we went to drinks 4/not enough, with a grumpy Prez and a still absent Zulu.

Seems Tokyo's favourite Queenslander had had a 'which station' situation, and topped it off by taking a wrong turn and then using Boy Scout logic in a Japanese city. "If I just keep going, I'll hit a main road," he said. And yes, you probably would have, but it'd have been in Nagoya, mate.

Back on the pitch, me and Bugs went out to play through the remaining 20 overs and set a target to bowl at. Like Zulu's road plan, it didn't happen that way. Razzaq honed in on the soft, fleshy bits between me pad and the thigh pad, whizzed one past my shnozz, then squared me up, found the glove, and after a quick, hopeless, desperate look to square leg, off I trundled.

Hamburger Hill copped one on the beard, then one through the gate, and Reggie Dawson was at the crease in the 21st over. He made some beaut drives, unlike Zulu, who was still going round in circles, before he too was castled. The veteran Paul Shax joined the Prez, and the pair set about constructing what amounted to the only partnership of significance for the innings. The two seasoned campaigners took the score from 7-70 through ten dangerous overs. Jarrad finshed top score (30-odd) and helped himself to at least one over the ropes. With 5 overs to go, the old boys had to change the pace, but this proved the Prez's undoing, and he, unlike Zulu, was soon back in the shed. The Grumpy One made his innings of the year even more memorable with a Level 2 Code Of Conduct breach, giving a stump a bit of a nudge as he left. The score was up over 120 at last, and there was something there for us bowlers to bowl at. The last 2 wickets fell cheaply, and the Wombats were defending 127.

Etsuko's communal egg sandwiches put some fire in the Wommies' belly, and Zulu picked up the scent and aimed the Clubhouse Wagon in that general direction. Millenium had ideas about an early return to Tokyo, but the Wombats did too. Like fellow Sandgroper DK Lillee, Chuck knew that we could f**king win this, and that no matter how few 128 might be, the Wombats would make them earn each and every one of them.

Zulu finally returned to bolster the aural assualt coming from the Jock McCale Stand. Rayos weaved from the carpark end, and I did me best from the scoreboard end. After a few big shots from both ends, Shax was brought in, and I just got pissed off. I gave the young Japanese opener a work-over in one over, and had him bunny hopping out to sqaure leg. With 2 left in the over, I decided to load all me eggs into one last basket, and sent a fourth ball short into the body, and offered him a bit of batting advice, suggesting in the politest of language that square leg was possibly not the best place to take guard. Now or never, last ball of the over, back on a length, but not really on line. Still, me bunny was hopping out to leg, got his pads in the way and the castle came down. Shit, I was happy.

Shax had the Japan representitive Munir soon after as he fed a catch to the Freak Ray. Our ol' mate Saeed Rizzwan brought his big bushy beard out to bat, and found eleven noisy Wombats right there in his facial hair. Should have brought his earplugs, cos the umps weren't interested in his appeals for help. Can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen was the call. He took the advice, spooning Killer Kelly's first (legit) ball straight to me for the simplest of catches at fine-leg.

From 0-40, to about 3-50, Wombats had begun to put fear in the Millenium camp. The Hoskings, backed ably by Zulu, Spacey and Shizuoka's David Boon Fan Club, were right behind us, sensing something special was on the cards. Shax had his second with another Freak catch at silly-mid-testicle.

In the gully I tried to pull off a Hand of God catch diving sideways at a cut-shot their #4 played at Reggie. It was one of those "what might have been" moments, but didn't stick. Taking a leaf out Grumpy's book, the hat got acquainted with the dirt, and the hills rang out with some colourful language. Reggie's misfortune continued that over as the same bat found an edge that flew too fast for the aforementioned Grumpy One.

His 3rd pack of Marlboros getting dangerously low, Smoker was pacing the boundary and made the call, "ready Burkey" as Reggie Dawson steamed in. Big-hitting danger man Razzaq, with the equation at 6 wickets/50 runs, had to be got, and Burke got him. He drove at a quick 'un from Reginald and the edge flew. Words won't do justice to the catch, but that ball had 4 runs written all over it. The shinkansen looked sluggish in comparison, but somehow Burkey intervened leaping wide to the right. It was like catching a squash ball out of a rocket launcher. It was the break we needed to take us to drinks.

Reggie kept the dream alive after drinks, getting his second with a plum LB and then giving Millenium's fine cotton Miyaji a corker through the gate. 7-90, all 3 Pakistanis gone, Japanese numbers 9, 10, and 11 to go. Wombats should have won the game, but cricket is not a game played in hypotheticals or on reputations. It is played in the mind and on the pitch, and those two Japanese lads played probably the greatest partnership of the entire KCL season.

As predicted they retreated into their shells, but did so with the clarity of mind needed to pick off the remaining runs. Reggie couldn't dislodge them and Cap'n Jones sent down 4 overs of hand grenades. The score trickled through the 90s, past the Nelson as Chuck grenades lobbed higher. The rash shot we need didn't come. The lads paced themselves, content to win however long it took, in ones and twos.

Reggie was spent and I was given one last crack with a dozen runs to defend. Every single Wombat gave every last ounce of heart that day, and the cricketing Gods were calling last orders. At times I thought the batsmen defended with closed eyes, but either way these two weren't going away. No amount of on-field commentary nor a dose of sub-continentally ambitious appealling could do it. The lads had the strength of character and backed it up with limited but sound technique.

Ironically, with the scores level, their number 4, who witnessed a procession of soft dismisalls pulled out the ugly cross-bat hoik we'd wanted so badly. But he found the boundary, and his joy could be heard for miles around. Determination had won the day, had won the season. Congratulations.

Chuck Jones called us all in and spoke words which mark him as a great captain. As Duncan Fletcher has so inadaquelty demonstrated, how a man conducts himself in victory or defeat can mean as much as the result itself. His defeated warrior Wombats were praised for the gallantary they had shown, for the determination and doggedness displayed fighting to defend a sub-par score. The year's affort were not enough this day, but our achievments this year remarkable, and that we had gone that far was something which we all must be proud.

After the Hardys' Man of The Match Awards (Razzaq, Reggie and THAT catch by Burkey) we had the painful but neccesary sight of watching the Millenium lads spraying the champagne, enjoying a victory they deserved so much. Wombats have gone home empty handed, but the seed has been sown, the bar has been raised for the next big step in 2006. Tokyo Wombats left that field yesterday without the 2005 Cup, but with 2006 glory a clearly defined goal.

As I won't be playing the post-season Pacfic Cup, I will take this moment to thank all the teams, all the adminstrators of the KCL. The umpires, not just David and Anton yesterday, but throughout the year must be thanked. Craig and everyone at Hardys Wines, your supprt has been terrific again. Pete at the Clubhouse, same goes for you. All the Wombats here and abroad, we were all in this together, and we will all be in together again in 2006.

3-BAT WOMBATS MAKE ENGINEERS CRUMBLE
vs IECC (KCL Semi-final -- Shizuoka -- 3rd October, 2005)
by Ian Gason
>>>Match Scorecard vs IECC

Tokyo Wombats dominated Sunday's semi final at Shizuoka from the outset, proving that actions speak louder than words, as they claimed a grand final berth with a 7 wicket victory over Biju Paul's Indian Engineers.

Although the man himself was absent from the contest, Biju's comments that this, their 4th semi final in 4 years, was "their best chance" proved counter-productive, and about as accurate as Glenn McGrath's 5-0 call. There was little evidence that they had "worked out" the Wombats "three main (and probably only!) batsmen" and none to show that had done anything to work out the multi-faceted Wombats' bowling attack.

The Shizuoka Ground looked immaculate, the weather equal to the occasion, and Chuck Jones - as he does - saved his best tossing til when it counts, and invited the Indians to have a bat. The Freak Ray started the mesmerization, with a maiden, a wonderful start.

My opening spell owed more to the wonders of modern pharmacuticals than hard work or talent, as I had spent Thursday and Friday on crutches due a bruised and swollen foot resulting from an over-turning of the pram. There was still a limp pre-game, but once I was in the zone, it was all OK. A schnik from acting captain Viswa got the Wombats' juggernaut rollicking, 1-0 after 2. Five more dots from The Freak, and another schinko through to The Dinosaur saw the Engineers' at 2-2 after 4, and me, the walking wounded, lucky to be on the pitch at all, 2-0 after 2. As the Freak continued to weave at the (former) cap-park end, the engineers looked like they needed to borrow my crutches, as they limped through the teens.

They may well have been calling for the stretcher in the 8th over, when batsman Nisar Ahmad survived an extrodanarily confident appeal for the third c. Shearer b. Gason.. The umpire however ruled that the ball had not schnikko-ed a large chunk of wood as it flew to the Dinosaur paws, but had boofed into the pad. The Wombats were dumbstruck, the batsman was eyeing his toes.

This was not Nisar's first or last piece of fortune. He had already pushed one wide of Hamburger Hill and cut one barely over Bubbles Dawson. As he searched high and low for a partner, he single handedly propped up the Engineers' innings. He employed a wide range of strokes, and had a particularly powerful backfoot forcing stroke which brought him many a run.

A booming "C'MON WOMMMMMMIES!" rattled off the nearby buildings, announcing the arrival of Wookie and co. That, and two more eskies at the ground fired up the boys, and Bubbles' first ball brought him amongst the wickets, a c&b off a mistimed hook shot. As the Indians hobbled to 4-50, Nisar enjoyed a life from our gloveman off the bowling of Ankles Kelly. The introduction of the Whyalla Warrior, Paul Shax brought more pain for our foes. Nisar was cutting a lonley figure in the middle as our leading wicket taker moved in on Alex's record with another 3fa.

Good captaincy brought immediate results when Hamburger Hill was deployed at fly slip. Shax's second came via Dino as our veteran decieved Warne-ishly with the one (as opposed to?) that goes straight. As Indians tried to consolidate and wrestle the game from our grasp, a bit of fortune sealed Shax's 3rd.

Ankles Kelly, dressed spiffingly in a pair of borrowed whites 4 sizes to small was perfectly positioned at silly mid-wicket and in the blink of an eye had reached down with his right to take the catch of the day. Wombats were now eyeing off a sub-130 close, when Snappy Tim Whiskas was intoduced. A week previous we had witnessed our Kiwi bro's capabilities at Dino's bucks (see 'Gallery') and he showed that he was equally quick and entertaining with a cricket ball as with a golf ball. The Freak mesmerizes. The Wharrior bamboozles. The Big Cat stuns.

In the most memorable over since the Zulu/Ray one v Embassy, Whiskas began his day with 1-0, which he later made 2-0. 3 dead-balls in one over must be some kind of record. Once it was literally "blink and you'll miss it" with the batsman's woodwork disturbed. Another was called from square-leg as the skip was re-positioning himself, and another caught the umpire, batsmen and several fielders napping. Somewhere in there he grabbed a wicket.

He second brought more joy, when a full toss lobbed harmlessly at the batsman, who obliged by edging it, and after a Bucknor-esque delay the umpire(s) ruled that slow bowlers are allowed to lob full-tosses, and the batsman was on his way. Whiskas went from 2-0 to 2-30 as Nisar, still there, hit lustliy past 100. He had finally found some support from his number 11, who suffered a painful blow to the foot at the other end.

The last pair dragged their total past 150 and to 175, as score which should have been enough for a team who has worked out their opposition so well. The reality was of course a little bit different, but at least their bowlers had something to defend.

When Chuck announced the batting order, I was reminded why The Selangor Club in Kuala Lumpur has a bar, facing the cricket field, which still enforces a rule "No Women. No Children. No Dogs." My wife's reaction was "Eee? Ian saisho kara? Shinjiranai!!" 3 overs later I was wishing I was at that bar, after I'd pulled a shot from "Bryon Pickett's Book Of Responsible Driving" and dragged one back on. 1-7, and the Indians saw a light at the end of their tunnel.

The Captain came to the crease, after picking up some words of advice from his soon-to-be #11, and put his head down to do the job required. He enjoyed ample support from Steve Burke, and the pair accumulated at 4 an over. Chuck raced ahead in the scoring, picking boundaries backward of square, over square, straight down the ground, into the river. Burke had a few of his own until he hit one too high and was gone for 26. Such was the tunnel vision on the Indians' planning department, that with 20-plus overs, 8-wickets in hand and 90 needed, the Indian captain greeted Burkey's dismissal, with "That's it! We've WON the game!"

I guess they figured that "once two of them are taken care of, the rest will crumble." Meet Tim Whiskas. Ignoring our West Aussies advise to shelf the cut, which had undone a handful of Indians, our Kiwi played some delighful cuts which flew off the bat and sped along to the river. The Jones-Whiskas partnership was as bountiful as it was beautiful, and most of their shots deserved Richie Beanuad's "If there's any kids watching at home" accolade. By the time Snappy Tim had skied one in the deep, Wombats were eyeing off the eskies, needing a couple of dozen runs in 10 overs.

Fiittingly, the Club's Gibraltars, Jarrad and Chuck, were there at the end. Chuck's dominance of the Indian bowling was akin to Wayne Carey's school footy matches. They had no answer. Chuck sealed the victory with huge one-legger over mid-wicket, which he simply stood back and admired.

Dignifed hand-shakes were abandoned with Ankles' suggestion of a Club Stax-On-The-Skip. Ater the pitch was put away, the two teams joined for the presentaions. Nisar was clearly Indians Best. Ankles Kelly beat a pack of contenders, including Etsuko's cousin and her cowboy boots, for the day's highlight. Ritsuko Jones will be sniffing out her husband kit bag for another bottle of Hardys for another match winner performance. His 86 not out is his highest score for the Club, and Smoking Pete should be thinking of special disocunts for the Wombats' bowlers. Twice in two games a rampaging batsman has been denied a century by the small total they've had to chase.

Things just got better then for the Wommies, as local man Yoshida-san was firing up the BBQ. The Shizuoka boys helped us get through 4 cases of beer. I was out there fleecing everyone for the ICC Double. A beautiful summer's evening lingered past sun-down as an 18-Wombat contigent tucked into the barbie and the booze.

In the van an unprecedented double round of highlights. At Ashigara piss-stop a bunch of try hard wankstains on 250s pretended to be bikers, only to be upstage by two chicks on 2 wheels. Chuck must have been ready for another toss when Biker Chuck #1 made her engine sing for him, even when he was rubbing his famous arse against her front wheel. We threw Wookie in the van (13 in a 10-seater) and the trusty Toyota was dragging as low as a Latino's Pinto.

Farewelling the Big Man with a round of "Wookie Highlights" was followed by Wookie's Highlights, and then topped off with everybody throwing in their "Dinosaur Highlights" as it'll be a new man behind the stumps next game! At the toll-both we passed the Wooksta back to the 2nd car, and maybe it was the smoke from the BBQ (or the JD?) but was that a tear in the Big Man's eye?

Appropriately, the man who made the Golden Thong possible left his king-kongs in the van, and was last seen wandering the streets of Shinjuku barefoot, like he was at the barbie or his beloved Kangaroo Island.

Thanks to The Indians for the game, and to the officials Robert and Anton. Also thanks to the Shizuoka boys for getting the ground looking so good. Again thanks to Shizuoka and Paddy Foleys who agreed to shelve their practise game and allow the game to be played.

WOMBATS TOP OF CROP AS GIANTS FLOP
vs Giants (KCL Game 7 -- Fuji 1 -- 4th September, 2005)
by Ian Gason
>>>Match Scorecard vs Giants

A superb all round effort by The Tokyo Wombats saw them defeat 4-time champions Giants at Fuji Sunday, sealing the Minor Premiership and setting up a semi-final with Indian Engineers. Such was the dominance of the Wombats 4-pronged bowling attack that perrenial run machine Steve Burke's 70 not out barely rated a mention in Man Of The Match match discussions.

The showdown began in the carpark of our favourite Fuji combini, where Giants and Friends had also stopped to re-supply. Chuck's suggestion that we make like Port and The Crows was ignored, and by 10 we were at the ground and ready to rumble, on the pitch.

A pesky blade of grass propped the coin up at a 10 degree angle, and Giants skip insisted on a re-toss. Our skip, who had only had one good toss all year, managed to land the Y500 the right way up again, and invited the Giants to have a bat. This was a bold piece of skippery, sending in a team famed for scoring 300+ regularly, but with Courtney Jones, you don't die wondering.

His pre-gamer was another beauty, imploring us to relax, play our game safe in the knowledge that we had qualified (events on Fuji #2 showed this actually wasn't the case!) and that the defending champs were under pressure, needing 2 from 2 to scrape into the finals. Heap it on 'em, keep reminding the batsmen, never relent was the message.

Duely charged, Rayos and myself opened the attack, and within the space of a few overs, Wombats had had more chances than the Port Adelaide forward line, and about as mush success as the Kangaroos' defence. Edges, pops, dabs, schwings, frenchies. You name it, the Giants bats had chanced it. One bouncer I sent down was hooked blindly and top edged over 'keeper Jarrad's head, and came down within kissing distance of the rope.

Their luck ran out when Rayos and Jarard combined in the 5th to start what would become a procession. Giants got a big break when Kyal Hill put down a chance off me at point, but to his credit he blocked the blemish from his mind and held two good catches in succesion. The first was a replay of the miss, and with a bit of a fumble held the ball Smoker-style, around the gonads.

Not long after Burkey held one at slip to give The Freak his second, Rayos would become Krayos for bagging himself 3 top-order crayfish. Deep in cow-corner Hamburger Hill claimed his second catch of the day, holding onto to a high slog-sweep.

Four down, not a lot on the board, the champs were looking to consoldate, the challengers looking for that knock-out blow. Two seasoned campaigners were at the crease and represented Giants' best chance at salvation. Mumtaz, the skip, veteran of Japan cricket, and Kamal, a former Bangladesh A player, both had the potential to turn the match on its head.

The meassge from our skip was clear: don't give up, keep at 'em, target their captain. Every innings has a partnership of sorts, and this was probably going to be it. Keep the heads up, keep the talk up, and bowlers keep the pressure on.

When Chuck moved up into a very silly leg position, Kamal advised he might want to stand a bit further from the bat, but our man would have none of it. Chuck was in the firing line of anything short down leg, and Rayos let a short one go down leg. The batsmen swung and missed, and the fieldsman was at him a a flash, "Mate, I'm still here."

Krayos magic-weaving spell would come to a dramatic end, as Mumtaz' class came out. 20 runs bled from the Tassie's final over. Mumtaz' straight six landed 7 rows back, deep in the jungle. Chuck spotted a spider the size of a dinner plate, and abandonded the search. Killer Kelly knew no fear and went head-long into the 12 foot weeds. The human ferret wasn't going to give up this ball for dead, as it had yielded 4 wickets and given up almost none of its shine. As more sensible Wombats mulled over chemical defoliation and whippa-snippers, a voice was heard, "I've got it! Oh, hang on, no I haven't......no, yeah I HAVE got it!"

Reggie was operating from the scoreboard end, sending down a fiery few overs. Killer Kelly was asked to ferret out a wicket at the carpark end, and he soon came up the goods. As the pair were starting to pile on the runs, Cap'n Jones out thought the batsmen, and Killer executed the plan to a T. Chuck pulled The Freak out of 3rd man, partly to sweep the off-side fence, but also it invited Kamal to dab through the now vacant region. Next ball, the Bangladeshi did just that, dabbed away, but only succeeded in nicking it into the gloves of a lunging Dino.

Captian Mumtaz was beginning the cut a lonely figure, as the Wombats now looked to go in for the kill. Reggie almost had his first when a hook went skyward but didn't carry. He wouldn't have to wait long though, as a desperate batsmen let his captained down with an adventurous drive that saw his castle re-arranged.

If that drive was adventurous, then what transpired in the next over was positively Byron Pickett. As Mumtaz looked on, he was running out of partners, and asking for someone to put up thier hand. There were no takers. Killer simply sent the ball down at the stumps and the batsmen did the rest. Front foot moves away to on-side, big swing across the line and the stumps ended up pretty much like Pickett did on that ill-fated morning: all over the turf.

In the space of 20 overs Wombats had reduced the once-feared club to 7/126 at drinks. Still a long way to go, the skip and me set ourselves a target of 150, and I would re-commnce proceedings at the car-park end. 8 balls later, the innings was over.

The batsmen had pulled my 2nd ball for 2, with the benefit of watching, so naturally, I invited him to enjoy another short ball. He obliged, but top edged it, way, way up. The ball went to Dave O' at mid-wicket, but went so high that the batsmen trotted through for one, and were actually leaning on their bats when it came down. I would struggle to remember a ball going so high, but Dave was rock steady, calmed his nerves with quick ciggy, and watched the ball come down safely in his hands.

I continued round the wicket to left hander Mumtaz, and with the first ball I'd sent him all day found his edge, and Burkey did the rest, two grabs at a sharp chance moving to his right. Mumtaz' 50 runs gave their scorecard some credibility, but with him went the last hope of a challenging target.

On a hat-trick to the number #11, the Y10,000 ball. Chuck called the field, "where-ever you are, just come right in." In a moment I will treasure, I looked up from shining the ball to see I was bowling to FOUR slips! Over the wicket to the rightie, and he managed to French cut my hat-trick ball and deny me.

Reggie Dawson mopped up at the scoreboard end, castling the last man. Giants all out 130 in 21.2 overs.

Kiwi Dave O' was promoted to open with Burkey, and did a superb job. Kamal opened the bowling, and with his long run, and long hair the comparison to Akhtar were obvious. Perhaps the openers sensed this, and set about carefully wearing him down. By the time Dave was removed mid way through the session, the bowler was losing steam and slowing down.

Burkey copped one body blow from the Bangladeshi, but soon landed his own, when he hooked him over the rope in his 2nd. With a target of 3 an over, the pair set about building a base from which to launch the attack. Burkey survived one stumping chance when the 'keeper Ge-rainted him a life. Dave O' had seen off the opening spinner, and was wittling away Kaml's energy reserves. Just as he was finding his feet and scoring freely, Kamal gave him the slower ball. Sensibly resisting the temptation to belt the f**k out of it, he tried to stroke it away down leg, but instead popped a simple chance to square leg.

9 wickets, 30 overs, 100 runs. Enter Chuck Jones. The Burke-Jones combination has been a fruitful one this year, and again they put on a show. Not a lot of fire-works before the drinks break, at which point we were just keeping up with the run-rate, at 1/71. A further 60 runs still left Giants with a chance, but these two were in no mood to give them a sniff. Even one wicket would give them some hope, so with so few to chase, why give them any?

After the break, Giants were quiet. Heads were down, appeals stifled, the psychological battle had been won. Both teams knew whose game it was, and so the boys seized it. Both men loosey-gooseyed, and the runs started to flow. Burkey raced past 50, possibly with a disdainful stroke from a spinners first ball, dispatched over cover for 6. Chuck was feeling in a calypso mood, and took on any ball going down leg. He didn't always connect, but when he did he gave it the full treatment, swatting them away to the fence.

The Vic pierced the off side field time and again, leading both the sweeper and third man on fruitless chases. The Sandgroper's stroke of the day was a forcing shot off the back foot, punched to the long boundary. What made the stroke was the way he stood and looked at the ball, cos even with his back to us on the boundary we could tell what Chuck was thinking: don't bowl that shit to me.

The Wombats soon had victory, in 31 overs, by 9 wickets.

Full credit to the Giants, who have had a Brisbane-esque run at the top, with 4 straight KCL triumphs. After the game, they were gracious in defeat, and wished us the best for our finals. Mumtaz was the clear winner for their Hardys Best on Ground. Dave O''s holding the mile-high catch won him Best Play. Luke Ray's dibbling of the Giants top order earned him the Hardys Man Of The Match, for the second game in a row.

Meanwhile on Fuji #2, Millenium were chasing Friends' 280 for a final's berth. As there was no beer left, we didn't see the end, but along the Tomei we received a call from Mumtaz, informing us they had knocked it off. Such was the early finish that we had the weird sensation of doing the game highlights in day light! Gerard Brady, who had done an excellent job officiating was given a ride back to Tokyo, and a glimpse inside The Van, to see the world through Wombat eyes. I just hope he doesn't think we always get back to The Clubhouse by 8 o'clock!

WOMBATS DOWNED BY JAPANESE HOPEFULS
vs Japan XI (National Selection Camp Game -- Fuji 2 -- 13th August, 2005)
by Ian Gason

As proven when a team of barefoot unknown aboriginal footballers thumped Collingwood in Darwin, a champion team doesn't always beat a team of champions, and so it wasn't yesterday when a Japan XI team defeated the Tokyo Wombats in their selection trial match at Fuji Saturday. Many of the aspiring national players showed good strenth of character in their comfortable 6 wicket win.

Wombats' day began smoothly enough with a prompt departure from Harajuku, then descended into the ridiculous, as the wagon then took over 2 hours to get as far as Yokohama....on the expressway. By the time of Grumpy Shearer's first phone enquiry, we were still at Atsugi with 70 minutes to match time, and over 100 log-jammed clicks to go. Got to love O-bon. Still, it at least allowed us plenty of time to exchange new and avant-garde ideas on our favourite performing arts, penis puppetry.

Somehow we made it by sunset, by lunch time in fact, and after quick change and pep-talk, the usual suspects, Burke and Shearer went out to destroy the dreams of budding Japanese cricketers.

Unfortunatley, as the Ichihara contingent was still en route, 4 Wombats were subbing for the Robb McKenna XI when a run-less Dinosaur was thumping his way back to the pavilion. Having missed the dismissal, I can only report what I heard. "It wasn't bad luck.....it was a shit shot...I'm a shit cricketer....I haven't got a run all year...."

Dodging projectiles, Chuck made his way out, and knuckled down to enjoy the remaining 48.something overs. Burkey was swiflty moving things along, scoring 3/4 of the runs at least. Picking the gaps with centimetre-perfect placement, he caused some head scratching for the Japan bowlers. Amir proved Burkey's undoing on 53 when induced a drive which the Big Vic dragged on. Zulu looked solid for a while as he joined the circumspect skip and kept things moving slowly.

The Freak Luke Ray followed Zu, and justified his bumping up the order. Although beaten many times outside the off, he was solid and respectful to balls on line, and played the ball along the ground in his vital partnership with Chuck (48). Though he added just 11, he occupied the crease through the middle overs, putting paid to Biju Paul 3 bats only/Violet Crumble theory. Reggie Dawson came in on my cartwheeling dismissal, played a few big shots before he was replaced by debutant Kyal Hill. The stocky Queenslander took the axe to the bowlers, playing some gutsy hooks and stuff and he whacked a quick-fire quarter century to give the Wombats total a bit more defendability. 186 shouldn't have troubled the nations best cricketers, but how they went about the task would give the selectors a good insight into the make-up.

The 2 openers were a contrast. One played as if it was a 20 over game at Koiwa, the other, J-keeper Chino had done the maths: 50 overs, 187 runs, 3.f*all, head down, you know it makes sense. So too the Wombats openers were a contrast. The weaver of magic, Luke Ray, lobbed and dobbed from one end, and came away with more dots than a teenagers face. 10 years of rust hampered debutant Scott Ada, who huffed, puffed, spattered and sprayed from the longest Wombat run-up since Birdman.

One Scott over bled 20-odd runs, but the skip held faith, and was rewarded when the swinging opener skied a hook to the steady hands of Reggie Dawson. The brought out the boy from Kobe, Dave Gleeson, who in two seconds flat was told to go back to Wagga Wagga. The Wagga jibes bounced off the lad, who teamed up with Chino-san for the match winning partnership. He restrained himself when confronted with the Ray dobblies, and was up to the task when Reggie and myself were called upon to knock down his fibro-shack. Even Zulu's confused battle cry of the Angry Sanchez (Marty, you'll know) couldn't distract him. Probably the only thing lacking in his cricketing repetoire is a job in Tokyo for next year.

Wombats encircled Chino as drinks approached, and kindly helped him count down the balls, reminding him what a shame it'd be to get out now. He obliged with a prod to silly-somewhere, but Zoo's hands were too slow to close on the ball, and he'd won the battle. Reggie Dawson did get the Boy from Wagga when Jarrad held on to a beauty down low to his right. So good we even gave the 'shit cricketer' a bottle of Hardys for it.

Next ball was hit back to Killer Kelly at extremely short mid-wicket, there was no Golden Duck, as he spilled a sharp chance. Somewhere along the line a wicket fell, and a big hitting Man In Green came out, forcing the skip to drag me in the midst of my duel with Chino. Yeah, the skip got the stare, but justified the call. The MIG played some foolhardy hoiks, and earned himself a skipper's spray. "Crayfish!! You're a crayfish. We've seen it before, so it doesn't suprprise me....but how can you play a shot like that with the national selectors looking on??" Maybe we do need a Louie The Fly Spray of The Year Award after all?

Anyway, let's cut to the BBQ......Killer Kelly got the crayfish with a full toss. Amir smeered a few into the weeds, where The Freak and then Zulu engaged on a primary school style game of stacks-on-the-mill. The umpire called for a ball up, and play re-started in the centre square. Amir won the ball from middle and played it away to boundary to seal the match. Japan XI winning in 40 overs, with 6 wickets in hand.

No soooner than the players had shaken hands Robb McKenna was hollering "Cold Pies! Hot drinks!" as he was teaching not only cricket, but cricket fund-raising fundamentals. No chook raffle this time, but plenty of cold bevvies and some damn good snags. All in the name of J-cricket of course, but some fat wombat put away at least 4 of 'em. The BBQ was beaut, as all barbies are, giving blokes from Chiba, Tokyo, Shizuoka and Kansai a rare chance to shoot the shit.

Dark was well and truely upon us when we made for Chuck's favourite combini. A quick stocking of a very broken eski, a romantic roadside serenading of 4 sheilas, and the wagon was away, with its passengers not quite nine sheets to the wind, but not far off. Onto the Tomei and into the highlights, and nearly every single one wasn't actual cricketing prowess. The spray, Luke's nut-catching, Burkey's assesment of his boundary, stacks-on. Nothing boring like, "ooooh in the 12th over, Freddie got one to go Irish and cut off the seam. A better batsmen would've hit that!"

Everyone seemd to cop a bit, and were well toasted and the result was a particularly bousterious back seat. Killer Kelly again topped the Slack Bladder Poll for most requests for a piss stop. A fair bit of remonstration and eski battering took place and by the time we pulled into Shinjuku, Killer was bluer than an 8-armed India god and begged to be let out and left.

The sight of English rain on Pete's computer screen never looked sweeter, as Warnie and Dizzy cooled their heels in the Old Trafford rooms. The Gods have a sense of humour over there, as the rain stopped just long enough for Ol' Iron Gloves to give Warnie a life, Warnie to smack Wheelie Bin and avoid the follow on, and then to start raining again. Gotta love it.

FERRIS WHEELS THRU WOMBATS FINALS PLANS
vs YCAC (KCL Game 6 -- YCAC -- 31st July, 2005)
by Ian Gason
>>>Match Scorecard vs YCAC

Tokyo Wombats dealt their finals plans a big blow Sunday when they went down by 60 runs to YCAC at Yokohama Sunday. Merciless batting from Mark Ferris powered YCAC to 267 runs, the highest total ever conceded by our bowlers.

Perhaps missing the bonding that the usual fart-filled van-ride provides, sapped by the solitary drudge of a mundane train journey, the Wombats made like July 21st bombers and failed to go off. Even the sight of Jarrad Shearer parading around in his pyjamas couldn't bring the X-factor out in the boys this hot and sticky day.

As is his want, Chuck was out-tossed and asked to field. Things began well enough for us, with The Freak and I throwing down some respectable overs to begin, including the wicket of Sandeep to The Freak (1/21 from 4). Reggie came on at the bay end and grabbed the other opener and at 2/42 after 8, we should have finished better than we did.

One bay side 6 had the new(ish) ball on a one-way ticket to never-never land, and its replacement ushered in a period of dis-array for the Wombats. Mark Ferris and Kamran Ali formed the first partnership of pain, adding 53 in 7 overs, before Kamran (32) edged to slip while attempting a Dr Dave cut. Denish Singh, formerly of IECC and India Blue fame, was out for revenge. A year ago some cheeky #10 had the gaul to spank him back over his head for 6 in the penultimate over at Gunma, and steal the match. Now the Wombats would pay for their lack of respect, as he and Mark batted through the middle 15 over session.

Wombats inexplicable insistence on dropping short helped them accumulate a match winning 120 in 16 overs. Hot and sticky conditions compounded our strife, and lead to the odd boiling over of the human teapot. A sharp chance at mid-wicket grassed by a skip with the yips was as close as we came. Dawson, Kelly, Cole, Shax and even Shearer came and went with their tails between their legs.

The short boundaries square of the wicket saw plenty of action, and if not for the efforts of our ball magnet Luke on the fence, we'd have faced an even bigger run chase than we did. Both batsmen were quick on their feet, giving themselves room to play the ball wide. The second drinks break finally broke Mark's concentration, and Killer Kelly bagged that big wicket in the first over back. The scorers had Mark on 99 at drinks, but appear to have miscounted, as he was 100 when they double checked. Either way, a match winning knock.

Killer should have had the big man, Avinash, as well. A misuced drive went so high it needed clearance to land, and land it did, when I moved from mid-on to mid-off and misjudged the flight. The batsman allowed himself a little laugh at my expense, but as they say, he who laughs last laughest longest. And loudest.

Next over, Whiskas' first ball was a ful-toss which the Big Man sent sailing down to square leg where he found the butt of his jokes had recovered from that fluff, but had lost his sense of humour in the process. Well, this is bound to crop up again at the Presentation Night, but suffice to say, I suggested that perhaps he wasn't laughing now and maybe you might just want to laugh your way back to the pavilion, thank you very much. I hardly think it warrants the creation of a new award category, guys!

The Big Cat also brought down danger man Denish who chanced his luck on the Kiwi's arm and came off second best. The tail wagged out a very valuable 30 runs as Killer Kelly mopped up his best figures for the Club, 4/33.

The Wombats would have to chase down a new Club record in order to pull this one off, and apparently it is a Kiwi tradition in these circumstances to take a quick dip in the nearest pool. No sooner than you could say "Nah, I don't think so", the Big Cat was dripping his way back saying "get in there boys!"

Back on terra firma things didn't go quite so smoothly, as The Dinosaur's rub of the green continues to elude him. Run out, 1. 1/11. Burkey sailed smoother for a few overs til an inswinger got through the gate, 2/41. Refreshed from his dip, Whiskas again made another man's willow his own, taking the MRF I can't buy a run with, and giving me a lesson in what it can do (in the right hands).

Chuck Jones, ditching the helmet for the yellow cap and batting with a Grey Nich, had me thinking that there was another Steve Burke in the side. He and Whiskas kept the Wombats on course with a boundary splattered 122 run partnership, coming in 21 overs. Several times the tennis courts were peppered, and our ol' mate Denish started with a 15 run over. Racing as they did at 6 an over would usually be enough, but today the ask was 7, and by the time Whiskas (58) was caught on the longest boundary, we were after 11 an over.

Captain Kamran Ali's tight bowling was probably the difference this day. In his 8 overs, he yielded just 21 runs, none of which were boundaries. In fact, only once was 2 runs ceded in a single ball. A diving catch an inch from the turf gave their skip the prize scalp of our skip for 81, and earned the catcher a bottle of Hardys.

The Freak was due in the recording studio, so decided he'd better make the most of it, and provided some joy in the final few overs he hard hit his way to 12 quick runs. Jim Cole, whose contribution is never merely statistical, also brought a smile to wombat dials. Not allowing reg grundies to cramp his free-willy style, Major Jim ran between the wicket with one hand holding his box in place. Occaisonally, the trusty hector went walkabout, and our running Spaceman had to reach down and pull the recalcitrant thing back up to the jewels.

With the Shaxinator, Spacey saw out the 40th over, Wombats down by 60 runs. Hardys Best On Ground awards were given (or in Jarrad's words, "got rid of") to Mark and Chuck. The lacklustre Wombats spared the country club members the Club song, and Chuck even denied them the chance to see a naked man play lawn bowls. Probably just as well, given the top-rate facilities, and good nature of the YCAC players. It is a place we'd like to be welcome back to.

Sept 4th we MUST beat Giants to assure ourselves a finals spot. Next weekend, we take on Japan, in what wil be a valuable training run for both sides. No doubt that we have to lift for these two encounters, or we can start making plans for end of season holidays.