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Isle of Wight Tour 

September 2013



Back row: S.Brown (Scorer), B.Bromley, P.Heath (Umpire), D.Heath, G.Taylor, P.Harris, N.Butler (captain), V.Newcombe.

Front Row: C.Butler, J.Bromley, C.Heath, C.McGovern (V.Captain), T.Newcombe, J.Ford.




So here is the story,

Of Pyestock’s Tour,

Where some beer was drunk,

And then some more!


Gleefully, one Friday,

We boarded the ferry,

With hopes of cricket,

And getting merry!


Dan crossed first,

On a cloudy day,

And passed the time

In Alum Bay!


Soon joining Dan,

On the Isle of Wight,

The Newcombe’s and Heath’s

Found the Camp Site!


On top of a hill,

Paul located his chalet,

Watching him get there,

Was better than Ballet!


Taylor and Vaughan,

Found a nice bricked abode,

Right by the bar,

On the main road!


The early group decided,

Time to explore,

And set off down a path,

Like never before!


The slope all of a sudden,

Became really steep,

Once again, Paul,

Nearly ended in a heap!


Once we were down,

Oh what a sight,

Just like a postcard,

From the Isle of Wight!

 whitecliffe bay

Now on the beach,

The cricket broke out,

With stumps being erected

And pebbles flying about!


But once we had decided,

That we were actually below par,

We swapped the shore

For the delights of the bar!


So the first beers were sunk,

On our maiden tour,

As the weather set in,

And the beach was no more!


The chairman arrived

As did Hollywood,

Complete with a suit,

That no-one understood.


 A team at last

Found itself as one,

In a rain soaked pub,

The drinking began!


Pyestock however,

Were still missing their skip’

On a later ferry,

With little brother Pip!


So, we decided the next stop,

Was to seek out some grub,

So headed out the door,

To a different Pub!


We all got ready,

And into the cars,

To head up the road,

It wasn’t that far!


But soon after entering,

It became clear,

Hollywoods arrival,

Was taking a year!


We called and we phoned,

Just to make sure,

We hadn’t already lost,

One on our tour!


Vicki soon rescued him,

From the club on the site,

To lots of jeering,

And everyone’s delight.


Seems our vice-skipper,

Found a nice little place,

Stole his kids coats,

To make sure we had space!


The jokes piled in,

As we all had a giggle,

Chris preferred “his” place,

And started to niggle.


It was all in good spirit,

And everyone laughed,

At quite how McGovern,

Had been so daft!


The Captain rolled in,

Pip close behind,

The drinks orders increased,

With these two combined.


With food and pudding,

All neatly consumed,

All back to Vaughan’s

Where drinking resumed!


Writing this verse,

I’m sat reminiscing,

But this part of the weekend,

Has memories missing!




scene missing (2)


Early next morning,

There were some sore heads,

And I’m sure many wished,

For more time in bed


But we met for breakfast,

On a nice sunny morning,

Just a shame the captain’s chalet,

Needed a health warning,


To blame Neil entirely,

Is not really fair,

Chris, Paul and Steve,

Don’t forget Pip, he was there!


The breakfast cheap,

In quality and price,

That’s being generous,

It wasn’t that nice.


We’d have probably be better,

Finding a Gregg’s

At least we taught Gabi,

Not to toast Eggs!


Those feeling rough,

Went for fresh air,

Walked out the main door,

And past the big chair!


Back down that hill,

And onto the sand,

It was brisk and quite windy,

You wouldn’t get tanned!


Suddenly, and seemingly,

Just to pass time,

Hollywood found,

A rock-face to climb.


Higher and higher,

Until he looked quite small,

We, down below,

Awaited the fall!


If he’d have fallen,

He’d have surely died,

Then we’d have had,

A body to hide!


But, once safely down,

We decided to leave,

And see what the others

Had up their sleeve.


Stood on the green,

With the playground beside,

It wasn’t long until,

We were on the slide.


One small problem,

We run out of luck,

The slide was for kids,

Chris and Gabi got stuck!


After more laughter,

And sharing the blame,

We decided to get ready,

And head for the game.


As Pyestock pulled in,

Through the nice Iron Gate,

The guy climbing the sightscreen

Was meeting his fate!


Down off the ladder,

With a terrible thud,

Cutting his head,

With plenty of Blood.


This left the home side,

With a quota of nine,

And asked to borrow players,

Which we said was fine.


So Vaughan and Glenn,

Would turn out for Brading,

Hopefully this was,

The end of the trading!


So, with a few sore heads,

Refusing to yield,

Pyestock reluctantly,

Took to the field!


Glenn received some banter,

As he opened the batting,

But our early bowling,

Made him look like Mike Gatting!


The openers survived,

As the overs elapsed,

But more drama was to follow,

As the umpire collapsed!


Pyestock panicked,

And rushed to his aid,

But Brading seemed relaxed,

About the whole charade.


Thankfully he recovered,

And removed the suspense,

After ensuring he was ok,

The match recommenced.


The hosts batted well,

And posted a good score,

A Flemming fifty,

And he could have got more!


Paul bowled well,

In an attack that was struggling,

Should have had wickets

But Jack was found juggling!


Number 4 Vaughan,

Looked to put Pyestock to slaughter,

But the innings ended,

When he was dismissed by his daughter!


As I was saying,

Brading’s batting did thrive,

And they finished four down,

For one-sixty-five!


The tea was fantastic,

To the ladies we salute,

But then it was time,

For Pyestock’s pursuit!


Dan and Chris opened,

But both were on nought,

When identical shots,

Saw them both caught!


It only gets worse,

As you look back again,

And realise the two fielders

Our own Vaughan and Glenn!


Dismissed by ourselves,

Pyestock had to rebuild

And rely on other batsmen,

Who were slightly more chilled!


Taylor Pip and Neil,

Compiled runs well,

As the visitors enjoyed

A profitable spell,


But the wickets still fell,

Heightening the task,

There was still work to do,

And it was a big ask!


With Pyestock eight down,

With five overs to go,

Fordy and Hollywood

Had to put on a show.


McGovern soon fell,

Leaving just Jon and Ben,

But a strong LBW shout,

Brought wicket number ten.


Pyestock had lost,

Eighteen runs short,

Fordy stuck on eleven,

But ran out of support.


Four stumpings for Hailes

Seemed to turn the tide,

Knocking Pyestock’s batting,

Right off its stride.


A shaking of hands,

And pleasantries exchanged,

Pyestock relaxed,

And went to get changed.


Once in the bar,

Sat with a beer,

The awards ceremony,

Kicked into gear.


Ducks and Glasses,

All found themselves worn,

There was even a donkey hat,

For poor old Vaughan.


But the best sight of all,

For those near and far,

Chris McGovern,

Wearing a bra!


The drinking continued,

As the sunlight was fading,

They ran out of beer,

So we said bye to Brading.


We all headed back,

Looking for a place to retire,

Someone suggested,

We sit round a fire!


So, after pizza and beer,

We headed for the site,

Where the others already,

Had the fire alight.


We all sat round,

Like nice little scouts,

Even passing,

Marshmallows about.


We were glad for the heat,

We were starting to freeze,

While Glenn and Dan,

Were snapping up trees.


After a few more,

We headed for bed,

After all a match with Porchfield,

Lay just ahead.


Sunday arrived,

With new breakfast plans

We gave the restaurant a miss,

And headed for Dans.


We knocked on the door,

Hoping not to disturb,

But Vicki and Dans breakfast,

Was simply superb!


So after finishing up,

And paying our way,

We set off for Porchfield,

But the clouds were quite grey.


The forecast was bleak,

And we were unlikely to finish,

So we decided early that,

Overs should diminish.


After a chat,

Each side got twenty.

Given the outlook,

We thought this was plenty.


Now batting first,

Chris captained the side,

With the task to simply,

Restore some pride!


Glenn and Vaughan,

Returning to the team,

Opened the batting,

Against the home attacks seam.


But both departed early,

To the visitors dismay,

But then Paul and Jack,

Entered the fray.


Both scored runs quickly,

As the run rate increased,

Others looked on,

And enjoyed the run feast.


But the home side hit back,

With wickets three and four,

And Pyestock soon realised,

They needed some more!


Jack powered on,

Hitting boundaries for fun,

And was still not out as,

The twenty overs were done!


One twenty Nine had,

Seemed a good score,

But Pyestock soon wished,

For rainclouds galore!


McGovern, who today,

Was playing for them,

Opened the batting,

But was bowled by a gem!


Dan was the hero,

Who flattened the stumps,

Leaving poor Hollywood,

Down in the dumps!


Corbin and Oliver,

Soon found their stride,

Pyestock threw everything,

But they easily replied.


The runs flowed freely,

The rate really good,

We huffed and we puffed,

But the pairing withstood.


There was one more wicket,

As Chris took a catch,

But then came the rain,

That ended the match!


Ben tried to bowl,

But didn’t have a hope,

The rain was torrential,

And the ball was like soap!


The players charged off,

Soaked to the skin,

But with the match clearly over,

The barbie could begin!


Burgers and Sausages,

But always the fave,

Porchfield’s Full Monty,

For only the brave.


A few lagers later,

We said our farewell,

And headed back to Vaughans,

For our final drinking spell.


A few headed back,

To catch the WhiteLink,

The weather was awful,

We feared it might sink.


On Monday Morning,

The remainder headed for Ryde,

A Café breakfast,

Was kindly supplied.


So Pyestock’s first tour,

Was coming to a close,

We didn’t win a game,

Disappointing I suppose.


But Pyestock had done it,

Despite a lot to endure,

We had completed,

A great maiden tour!


By Chris Peking Duck


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