Scene: A sun-drenched Sunday at the Widford Coliseum of Doom (also known as the cricket pitch), where decorum goes to die and cricket lives in a skip behind the Co-op.

Enter Skipper Chambers – part leader, part shepherd, part warlock. With the serene chaos of a man juggling chainsaws, he unleashed the Yoof Attack on the unsuspecting opposition. Macie, Oscar and debutant Zak—each one younger than a Spice Girls single—tore in like caffeinated meerkats. Oscar, the bowling equivalent of a fire alarm in a fireworks factory, nabbed two wickets early and could’ve had more if physics hadn’t betrayed him.

Then came Alex—whose delivery was so fast it literally restructured Kev Meakins’ hand into abstract expressionist origami. The crowd (well, two pensioners and a dog) gasped, one of them possibly choking on a Werther’s.

Bowling was shuffled more than a drunk man’s playlist. Justyn and John bowled like seasoned detectives investigating the concept of wickets—they deserved more than cricket’s cruel shrug. Jamie bowled like a gremlin denied snacks past midnight—snarling, hissing, and hurling leather missiles.

Chase time. 170 the target. Ware, optimistic as a pigeon walking into a Tesco, sent out Meakin and Pattison to face the new ball… which appeared in the second innings like a cursed relic from a forgotten tomb. Si (Pattison to his enemies) stroked the ball around like he’d taken a correspondence course in elegance, sauntering to 40 before fate drop-kicked him offstage.

Jamie followed with a stylish 25, wielding the bat like a misunderstood poet with rage issues. Alex hit a six that launched into orbit, possibly disrupting a Ryanair flight path. Oscar did his best "lone survivor in an apocalypse movie" impression to hold the tail together—but alas, Ware collapsed like a cheap deckchair under a sumo wrestler.

Result? A noble defeat. But the Widford pitch was a jewel—immaculate, glorious, and possibly maintained by unicorns on zero-hour contracts. Spirits high, wrists sore, fingers mashed... the lads left smiling.

Moral of the story: cricket was the real winner. That and whoever sold deep heat in bulk.