Smiles and similes in the summer sun.

Written by Tony Hammatt

Thankfully, the milometer was barely troubled as we went up the hill and round the corner to the village, people, and, young men, there was no need to feel down after some of the total cricket on display at Mill Hill.

Jug-Raj won the toss and elected to bat. Inpan set off like he had a pressing appointment, smashing a breathtaking 30 in just 15 balls. His departure brought JP to the crease and he set about his business, steadying and accumulating, ably supported by first Kasra and then Bilal, putting in early Colt of the Year bids, and also Avi. Skip-bro stopped by with a contribution, too. Reaching his fifty with a swift-run single, JP then went peak Sikh, smearing boundaries left, right and centre, eventually bowing out for an innings defining 70.

And, yet, Aman had his ideas, too. Setting off like the Maharajah Express that had no intention of stopping for a chai tea at a sleepy village station, he slipped straight into top gear, launching the ball with Stokesian relish, clubbing 36, which included four fours and a thunderous six (as per the report's album image!). The double hundred was reached, 203 the target.

The Villagers set off for this peak like lowlanders climbing Everest without a sherpa. At base camp, they found themselves 4 for 4. The middle order provided some stoicism, and created a concern or two with a couple of commendable partnerships. But then Nikeal grabbed back the initiative, giving Bird the bird when he was on 30.

A change of spinners, with the game still somewhat in the balance, brought a Gogna to his mark. 'I'm not 'Avi'n this, he seemed to say, and set about the tail, taking three of the last four wickets, helped by brother Aman on the boundary taking the lofty catches. No spillage in this village.

That pretty much brought down the curtain on the innings, Bips returning to deliver a spirited victory, so full of youthful exuberance. With so many promising colts at the club, it seems now to have been ill-thought, disbanding the fourth team. One cannot ride a horse backwards and still hold its reigns.