Eton Ramblers

Eton College Upper Club; Sunday 18 May

Sussex Martlets 207 all out, Eton Ramblers 209/7, Ramblers won by 3 wickets.

‘Darryl, I’m picking up Degsy at 9am in Lewes and can then scoop you up for a full-bore banter-bus to Eton College, Berks if that chimes with plans’ … words I never expected to read from Sam Carter’s pen, let alone keyboard. Clearly Sam getting down with the kids ahead of doing battle with the students, albeit old boys. Slaps. Lit.

The old boys turned out to be quite useful. Of the customary captains, Ashworth Junior (Frankie) was unavailable, so the Ramblers side had a totally different and unfamiliar look about it. Ashworth Senior, restricted to match-managing due to a new bionic hip, delegated on-field captaincy duties to Michael Murray with only the instruction to win the toss … which he duly did, thence electing to bat. Hurrah.

Peter ‘Lamby’ Lamb and Sam Carter strode to the crease with Sam striding back again soon afterwards having been bowled cheaply by Kelly. Hector Loughton, then Jordan Shaw and Darryl Rebbets formed the engine room of the innings, with Lamby looking particularly fluent for his 56 and Jordy for 68 (the latter’s dismissal including an awkward ‘did-I-didn’t-I get a bottom edge’ moment). Will Burch’s breezy 14 completed the major contributions before the long tail sadly wagged ineffectively. To add insult to injury, Murray left himself stranded on 1* at No 9. We were probably 30 runs too short at the changeover, which had been elongated by the Ramblers’ rather slow over rate.

With plenty of energy left from not batting, Michael Murray opened the attack to defend this slightly below-par total and immediately had the Ramblers in trouble with both openers back in the pavilion for low scores. Enter Rhys-Williams who was the backbone of the innings and with support from skipper Tom Dalrymple, went on to complete an undefeated 123. The result wasn’t seriously in doubt but Paul Lack made it interesting with a delightful display of flighted deliveries off 20, 22 and sometimes 24 yards.

All in all, a decent performance by the Ramblers and good to see them mounting fierce opposition in a fixture that’s always been played in a good spirit but has been rather one sided in recent years. The pick of the Martlets bowlers were Murray (4-31) and Lack (2-19).

Terrific catering in the Upper Club pavilion, with lunch taken alongside a more elderly Ramblers side who were playing I Zingari across the road.

We were delighted to welcome Richard Keep, a thespian friend of Degsy. He bowled beautifully without much luck but is a major find for the Martlets. His American partner Molly announced her arrival with the words ‘I’ve never watched such a lazy game as cricket’. Er, Molly, I can criticise my relatives, but you can’t. Except, as we lounged around in the pavilion picking the best of the left-over sandwiches, you’re right.

10/11 Marlets plus supporters and umpire Miles Clark and scorer Richard Willmett (thanks again to them) turned up at the Stag in Datchett afterwards – top effort everyone. Slaps. Lit. As they say.

Ramblers v Martlets — Eton, May’s Embrace

To Eton’s field we made our way,
Where clouds gave chase and wickets lay,
Sam Carter’s message led the ride—
A “banter-bus” in full-bore stride.

With Degsy scooped and Darryl too,
We laughed beneath the sky so blue.
The Ramblers faced the Martlets proud,
Old boys of skill, not just a crowd.

Ashworth the Younger stayed away,
While Senior watched but could not play.
So Murray took the captain’s rein,
And won the toss—first bat, no rain.

Carter’s stride was short and brief,
As Kelly struck with Martlet teeth.
Yet Lamby shone with fluent grace,
A fifty-six at sprightly pace.

Then Hector, Jordy—power, flair,
The engine roared with shots to spare.
Shaw’s sixty-eight held firm and bold,
Though bottom edge left tales half-told.

Burch breezed in with fourteen neat,
The tail, alas, could not compete.
Murray, stranded, looked askance,
Our total short—but still a chance.

With fresh legs still from batting none,
Murray’s spell had just begun.
He struck and struck, the stumps did fly,
As hopes rose swift beneath the sky.

Yet enter Rhys-Williams, calm and wise,
With Dalrymple by his side to rise.
An unbeaten hundred twenty-three,
A masterclass in symmetry.

Though Ramblers fought and spirits soared,
The chase was cool, the runs well scored.
Paul Lack tossed spells from shifting line,
And turned the game in twilight’s shine.

Martlets bowlers earned their praise:
Murray’s four-for sparked the blaze.
Lack’s two-for tricked the best,
Their efforts stood above the rest.

Lunch was shared in grander halls,
Where echoes danced through Eton’s walls.
The Zingari clashed with Ramblers old,
While sandwiches turned slightly bold.

Richard Keep, a thespian knight,
Bowled with charm though luck took flight.
His Molly watched with honest scorn:
“A lazy game”—her truth was born.

But still we lounged, a cricket kind,
Where time moves slow and joys unwind.
To Datchett’s Stag we later went,
Where tales were told and laughter spent.

With umpire, scorer, friends in tow,
We raised a glass, let spirits flow.
A day of grace, of bat and wit—
Top effort all. Slaps. Lit.

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