The bowler marched off for several miles so he could get a good shot at me.

Fortunately his bowling was as bad as my batting and the whole thing settled down into a routine of bowler bowl, ball bounce, wicket keeper catch, wicket keeper throw to fielder, fielder throw to bowler, bowler march off into the distance again. In the middle of this little merry game of catch I stood taking a swipe a fresh air every now and again, under the illusion that I might just hit the ball.

All of a sudden everyone shouted 'OWZATT'.

This gave me quite a fright as I hadn't been expecting such an outburst of excitement.

It seemed that my bit in the game was over, funny game cricket I never did actually get to bat at school.

I sat in a deck chair outside the pavilion with a glass of beer beside me and my hat pulled over my eyes. This was more like cricket, I might even enjoy this bit, I thought.

Joe was now in the middle facing the steamroller Ted, it turned out that was the name of the bowler. His parents certainly did get it wrong, he should have been called Bonecrusher or something. He was their star player and best bowler in their side. I had Joes deckchair and pint of beer ready for him.

The bowler started his six mile run in, the ball shot out of the bowlers hand like a cannon ball, he had really warmed up now. Joe was standing like a wound up discus thrower and ran to meet the ball.

' KERPOW '

The ball disappeared over the pavilion and into the allotments next to the cricket ground.

A stunned silence fell over the crowed, all sixteen of them, a cheer went up from our side, we'd just made our first six runs. The samll crowed gave Joe a round of applause.

Steamroller Ted, stunned that anyone could make contact with one of his cannonball shots, stood open mouthed looking toward the allotments, where an increasing number of men in white were tramping up and down the rows of cabbages.