Former Huncote Star Max Swords Welcomes Us to a New Year (2003 Season)

As Huncote’s greatest ever player and ambassador, I have been asked to take time out of my busy schedule to write a few words to greet the unveiling of a brand new website. You should feel very grateful, as I have cancelled a trip to the driving range, given up on completing a season on Championship Manager with AC Milan and decided to take a break from hunting for a job (?) in order to spend 5 minutes to try and keep you all entertained for a few seconds. We all know the hard work and dedication that Peter K puts into the club so expect the new site to be nothing short of spectacular.

Well now, what can I say about cricket? I know how much we all love standing around in a field for about 6 hours chasing a little ball. If we are lucky then we get a couple of minutes stood in the middle hitting the ball and another hour or so umpiring before being dismissed and sent back to the boundary in shame where your ever grateful team mates welcome you back with heart warming cries of: “Your shite!” and: “I wish you didn’t play for this club” and: “I really hate you.”

Thinking of my time with Huncote fills me with many emotions and also some vomit. Rage, despair, embarrassment and pride are just some of the emotions that appeared in my brain. Who will ever forget the time the Frenchies came to the club? They will surely have developed a love of the game of cricket to take back to frog land as they witnessed a match delayed and interrupted by rain and eventually played out in ultimate tedium with several players wearing beer mats as cravats in a vain attempt to make them feel at home. Perhaps we should have just got all the chicks to sport some natty underarm hair and eaten garlic, then the frogs would have gone home happy.

The Chestnut Mild still leaves a sour taste in my mouth and the dodgy food I had at some turdy little club in the middle of nowhere left a sour taste in my stomach, on the same day that Peter K’s deluxe Orion decided to lose the power of its brakes and left me saving us from death by the use of the hand brake. What a great, great day!

Bouncy castles, karaoke’s, darts, small children appearing at every game intent on playing with either Frisbees or small footballs or Jamie, the caravan club and the wonderful sight screens all bring a tear to my eye as I think: “What the hell happened??!!” Who will ever forget the day that whatsisname said that thing to thingmebob and then that bloke did that thing and everyone said: “oh what a great day to be alive and playing cricket and singing “Like a Virgin””.

Huncote is without doubt a cricket club and if we are to believe anything that TK says, they are the best cricket club in the world ever, spearheaded by the greatest bowler of all time. If that Iraqi spin-doctor ever dies or gets captured or surrenders or blows himself up, TK will have a job for life if Saddam tracks him down and hears his tales of glory.

In conclusion to this glorious stroll down a hideous memory lane, I would say these words, passed down from generation to generation on the cricketing field: “None in the nuts is worth two in the googlies.”

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