CHUMP OF THE CHAMPIONS

29/8/22
Chorley & District League Div-3: Eagle & Child 'A' 137-123 Chorley St Joseph's
v HARRY SMITH L 19-21

A team win tonight would secure promotion to Division Two and I desperately wanted to contribute with a win and round off what would be a very good season in the Chorley league. The good news was, we cracked it. Promotion gained and we even returned to top spot to go up as champions. (Thanks to a helping hand from neighbours Fox Lane who beat our rivals Farington Cons convincingly)
The bad news though, was that on a personal note the recent resurgence of losing my rag came to the fore yet again... even when I was 11-4 up! 
Seemingly in control, I should have stitched this game up well before I let Harry settle down and start finding his length. But I'd got myself giddy, cursing when I missed chances for two, getting over-excited when a little knock didn't go my way and in the end it was all an act of absolute self-destruction.
I wouldn't discredit Harry that he didn't win the match off his own skill, guile and resolve, but from my point of view I certainly contributed to losing it.
Fair play to Harry, whose deceptively unsteady delivery started putting the squeeze on me. He was thoroughly relaxed of course, whilst I was stressing out and that's really what swung the match I reckon in the crystal clear reality of the day after.
There has been a confidence crisis lately, triggered by that tonking at Farington St Paul's a couple of weeks ago. It doesn't take much to demoralise my bowling at the moment. Our arid, patchy and cracking green is not a good place to start losing it. It's delicate, tricky and even unpredictable. But as was pointed out to me afterwards by multiple witnesses, I simply played the wrong shot with jack in hand at 19-19.
I've closed many games down in my favour this season in a similarly tight situation, but a tricky round peg in to the downhill corner proved my eventual undoing.
My lead was only half decent, but Harry's second bowl was perfect and now I'm up Dicky's Meadow, which, just to clarify, is not far upstream from Shit Creek.
Harry then takes us round peg to the fast and wild running visitors corner - a mark I practice quite often, I am even more disappointed to report. He lands two reasonable woods, my first is short and inexplicably, my second one joins it. Game over and I just want to smash something - this is exactly how my first match of the league season started. How did I get back here?
Suffice to say, clubhouse window remained intact but the mat went flying in to a bed of flowery perennials. After an embarrassingly unsuccessful effort to retrieve it, I at least had enough emotional control to quickly abort the search and do the decent thing of congratulating my opponent before having a little calm down outside to put things in perspective.
On a night we were champions, I felt like a chump. But captain Steve Marginson (for whom I was delighted we sealed promotion) reminded me I'd done enough, scoring nineteen in a match won on chalks. Every single one counted and ultimately these matches are a team effort, regardless of how lost we get in our own personal battles.
Tonight's game wasn't so much a learning curve as a learning circle, for I've gone round and round again and learned nothing it would seem.
If I can't get on top of my emotions then I won't improve further and more likely my game will go in to decline.
Whilst another shitty night's sleep is guaranteed after this very sore defeat, for the record, I did go back and eventually find that mat.

WEIGHING UP FOR THE NEXT MATCH
There's only one place to go after a blood boiling loss... and that's back to the green. Playing short so much on fast greens has got me thinking of going back to heavier bowls that might run a little further to what I feel I'm delivering. A practice the following night didn't seem to be too positive until I realised a couple other of things about my delivery that I'd been neglecting of late, mainly because I rush too much. Consequently a bit of improvement came my way. 

It's weightier woods tonight then for a really tough double-bill in the Members League, with young Matthew again and another young starlet, Jack Dickinson on the card.
If I play owt like Monday night I'm going to get a double battering, but I'm hoping I've got my head straight and believe in myself to turn things around. 

TOO MUCH PEDRO POWER

27/8/22
FARINGTON OPEN SINGLES: 1ST QUALIFYING ROUND
v PEDRO YATES L 8-21

Nothing less than playing as well as I can was going to give anybody a half decent game in this field. Unfortunately I didn't deliver.
Nerves crept in as Peter, known on the circuit as Pedro, started the game with unsinkable lead bowls on delicately short marks, but basically if you're good enough, you're good enough and I'm not there yet for competition bowls.
That said, I wasn't altogether ridiculously out of place and feel that I could up the standard eventually where I might give myself more of a chance to win a round or two. Getting stuck in and having a go is still better than not doing, regardless of the gulf in class that may be evident to the critical spectator. Time will tell of course. Either way, I've three more comps entered over the next couple of months to keep me focused as the league season draws to a close.
The draw kindly omitted me from a match with crown green's number one, Callum Wraight, and I say 'kindly' because experienced Pedro from just up the road in Lostock Hall was a tough enough opponent to remind me just what's required to make any sort of mark at this level.
There wasn't much sent from my opponent that wasn't hard to beat, more often than not my road wasn't so bad but length was my undoing. Pedro scooted off in to an early lead and I got a bit tensed up, rolling a touch short too many times and the odd time a touch unlucky.
Just as I'd started to look a bit more of a threat, 3-9 looked all set to become 5-9 until Ped's weighty effort to disrupt was off target, yet somehow cannoned off wayward his first bowl, clipped the jack on and made two for himself. As my clubmate Steve Wilson at greenside said, "I'll pass you the sick bucket". It certainly was a sickener, but I could only smile wryly as the heritage tin plate scoreboard in the corner clanked twice over and on to 3-11.
By no means a game changing moment of course, as the writing was already on the wall with Pedro in charge, but when you need a bit of luck...
Setting myself a revised target of double figures, I frustratingly missed two opportunities of a two and then dropped a few clangers as Pedro pushed towards an inevitable victory with steady woods more or less throughout. The game finished with what was meant to be a strike that I grounded too early out of my hand and the outcome was bloody awful - epitomising my inability to raise my game on the night.
The Farington Cons green is a lush thing of beauty and I enjoy playing it, but that's three defeats there now and against Pedro I was guilty of running up short too much. A sign of tetchiness, but also inexperience. Experience is something you can't buy and is a priceless companion to cope with this sort of company.

FINALS NIGHT 
The following night was finals night and I nipped down for an hour or so, timing it right to see the two players I most wanted to see; Aaron from next door, who did very well to reach the last sixteen, and the main man Mr Callum Wraight.
Aaron bowed out gallantly to a very good player Pete Quinn by just five points, Quinn then going on to the semis after a quarter final win against my own opponent, Pedro Yates.
Callum is rarely less than compelling viewing and he didn't disappoint here. Trailing 12-19 and then 15-20 to Michael Opie, it looked as though he might be going home with barely travel expenses covered. Facing the abyss with one bowl left - Opie unphased, still landing super bowls and landing on the jack a good thirty metres away - Callum crashed an incredible strike to save the game and then went on to somehow nudge through.
Unflustered and unbelievable, he went on to win the tournament.

BIG NIGHT OUT UP THE ROAD

When I entered the Farington Singles competition many months ago, I didn't realise at the time that it was to be a little higher profile than I expected. The main reason for entering was because it's local at Farington Cons.
The fourth and final night of qualifiers is a pretty strong field, including the game's top player, Callum Wraight. He's travelled from Shropshire for this one intending to take the bounty. In contrast of much starkness, I'm cycling less than a mile up the road just to mop up some experience.
What if I get Callum in the draw? Of course I've thought about it, for that is actually a ridiculous possibility in a pool of just sixteen.
There'll be some local bowling folk watching, wondering what the hell and why the hell I'm even there this evening. But nothing is gained by staying in your comfort zone. 

If I don't make progress at tournament bowls over the next few years and don't get a buzz out of taking part then sure enough I might well feel the need to concede such participation as a waste of time and money.
For now though, it's still early days and whilst I'm still not sure how much better I can get, chucking myself in at the deep end and learning from the experience feels the natural thing to do. With a few tastes of tournaments already under my belt this year, I've enjoyed it, even when I've had my arse kicked. 
Essentially though, I'm just looking forward to playing, hopefully making a decent account of myself and then watching some quality bowling in the following round after a visit to the bar for a cold pint of San Miguel. 

A GOOD START SETS UP A VERY GOOD WIN

24/8/22
Eagle Members League Div-1
v TREVOR BIBBY W 21-18 (Off 3-3)

Tough game up against top of the table Trevor. Recent rainfall has been a blessing in many ways and not just for nature, river levels and reservoir stocks, but also my bowling confidence. After a couple of wounding defeats, I managed to press the reset button in my complicated head and the prospect of a less lightning-quick green helped to churn that process.
To slightly misquote Feargal Sharkey from 1985, "A good start these days is hard to find". No such problems this evening though as I ran away with the first seven points and then added to this unlikely dominance to lead at 15-6 against a prominent local player.
I was playing quite well and although Trevor wasn't really on his best form from what I've seen and heard of him, he came back well and eventually drew level at 18-18.
This season I don't seem to lose many games when there's a close finish though and I got myself back in to the match just in time.
Trevor was catching me out on short pegging marks that I strongly suspected might have been shy of the minimum nineteen metres on occasion, but whether or not, in this league just playing for myself I'd sooner just try and play the shot than ask for long tapes. Trevor seemed a bit arsey with me early on just asking for measures (even though they were valid calls that went my way!) so I daren't get the big boy long tapes out. 
At eighteen across I finally landed a decent delivery on one of these said short marks and took us longer and to the edge of our tricky corner to the right of the visitor's end. My lead bowl wasn't a bad effort and counted but I was a bit annoyed not to sew the game up as a repeat effort would have been enough, but I sent short. Rolling for the match, it was a risk going back over to the base of Trevor's successful short marks, but felt confident of landing something good enough to win. My first was on the road but just passed by a yard, then surprised to see Trevor drift rightwards of the target, my next was a good bit closer and I was relieved to see my opponent's last bowl just carrying a little too much weight.
Trevor 'The Strike' Bibby lived up expectations, absolutely splatting a tidy twosome of mine and sending the jack on to the concrete flags, then unlucky to take his own bowl out and thankfully leave another tidy two alone.  He was then ludicrously fortunate with a wide strike that cannoned off his stray first bowl and took out the jack from almost a ninety degree angle. I went for one less pacey jack strike and succeeded. I'm gaining confidence to do it and if my head's in the right place I tend to hit something.
A fast green and Bibby on his mettle would be a different proposition, but a good win all the same. There's been a bit of something between us at times, I've detected. He was coming across as a bit of a knob at last year's club President's Day. Perhaps I misunderstand the chap, for Trevor absolutely insisting on buying the drink when traditionally it's the winner's duty was a very sporting gesture.
With one thing or another forcing the reshuffling of fixtures, this was only my third Members League match in the last two months and I had dropped to eighth place, but the games in hand will hopefully be enough to get back in to the top five or six, if I can keep winning of course.

BROWN TOAST

21/8/22

EAGLE & CHILD PRESIDENT'S DAY TROPHY: SECOND ROUND
v MATTHEW BROWN L 13-21 (Off +2 v -2)

I literally placed my bag down on arrival and hear my name voiced first out of the hat for the President's Day finals draw and Matthew Brown is the second name called. "See you later, Johnny", I joked, with reference to a probable early exit.
There was some truth behind the jest though. I just didn't fancy one of the fancied players first match. Not like me, I thought, but Thursday's spanking and a poor practice session yesterday must have knocked confidence.
No easy games in the last sixteen, but fair to say some games harder than others - such as facing this young maestro. Farington Cons player Matt has doubled up membership at the Eagle this season and along with Aaron Hayhurst and Jack Dickinson, are three excellent young players on our books in the Leyland area that I believe can go as far as their ambition in the game will take them.
I went for half an hour's run in the morning and was feeling nice and relaxed but once I heard the draw I knew at best I was on for a real slog to get something out of Matthew and immediately worried that I just wasn't going to be playing well enough.
The handicap system kindly started me with two on the card and an overall advantage of four, but I don't know what was up - I just wasn't buzzing positively enough.
I was doing ok early on though and there wasn't much in it as we both moved in to double figures, but Matt is a silky bowling machine and started to show his class as the game went on. I wasn't always finding my length and certainly not well enough against this chap's cracking woods.
One poor second bowl in particular got me seething with myself and I lost composure again which triggered the inevitability of my President's Day aspirations turning to toast.
As a rather self-depracating creature who doesn't think at all highly of himself, I need to find a way of self-forgiving, for as Harry Glynn described me afterwards, "Your own worst enemy."
Mrs S was present and was also rightfully unimpressed with my language (body and verbal) as the game went on, reminding me I've been getting a bit grumpy and stressed about daft little things in general of late.
I've got a case of the Victor Meldrew's going on, or summat like that. We've had enough holiday time lately, maybe that's the problem - returning to the ever decreasingly green and overpopulated spaces of my hometown/city suburb or whatever the classification is for this endless urban sprawl!
Back to bowls though and bad form cannot be turned around by bad attitude. Matthew finished me off with two perfect woods and the fact I struck at them twice was evidence of a hissy-fit in progress. Poor shot choices on many levels.
Real score minus the handicap: 11-23.
All this is no recipe for success with more tough matches ahead this week, climaxing on Friday evening in a big competition qualifiers. There's much work to be done on refreshing myself mentally and trying not to put so much ridiculous pressure on myself. I'm simply not good enough, not consistent enough to live up to my own over-expectations all the time.

MAKING PLANS TO BE LIKE NIGEL
Matthew made it to the semi-finals, only for the model of composure that is Nigel Tomlinson to pip him for a place in the final. Nigel is maturing in to a very good bowler and not getting at all rattled by anything is partly key in this game of concentration. He smiles and strides his way around the green that you can't tell if he's winning or losing. I could do to be more like Nigel and learn a thing or two. He's in the Winter Doubles team I've signed up for, so hopefully his bowling zen will rub off on me!
Nigel then gave pre-finals day favourite Chris Miller a close encounter in the last match showpiece until around the twentieth end, when Chris finally broke away to win 21-14. The President's Day winner had been superb all afternoon and his quarter final win over second favourite Trevor Bibby pretty much put a stamp on his intentions. 

PEACOCK RUFFLES MY FEATHERS

18/8/22
Leyland & District League Div-4: Farington St Paul's 195-153 Eagle Reds
v TONY PEACOCK L 4-21

Evidence hereby given that this game can bite you on the balls when least expected.

The feathers of good form proudly on display of late were not so much ruffled, but unceremoniously plucked by Tony Peacock, whose performance matched the majesty of his namesake bird's elegant plumage.
I missed practice due to the early start here. Although some pre-match rolling might have bought me a few more points, I don't think it would have spared me from defeat against this home bowler who was on it from the off.
Tony beat my well adjusted likely winner on the first end and continued to wrap his bowls around the jack from there on, leading me to wonder why his name has slipped the net of my local bowling knowledge so far.
The first half dozen ends or so, I wasn't far off the mark at all, limiting him to single scores and imagined an opportunity would come eventually. It got to about 0-8 before I managed a chalk on the board. Still quite relaxed and unruffled at this point, when I did finally get the jack back and didn't produce the goods - meekly conceding two - the red mist of old finally shrowded itself upon me and any remote chance of a comeback was doomed.
Tony played extremely well though and didn't relent in getting very close to the target and even when he did get a touch slacker by his own standards as he edged towards a very convincing win, I just wasn't getting in there and the odd time I did, just couldn't send anything decent enough to have a run with the jack.
The only glimmer of light on this evening of a record defeat for me was some more successful striking. If I get in a serious pickle like this again then I might as well strike even more, if only for the practice. Tony said he couldn't strike for toffee, but he could certainly bowl and killed me on more or less the same mark on this patchy Farington St Paul's green.
Some away greens you like, some you don't and with respect to the lovely bowling folk down there and a nice set up, after two visits I'd rather forget, there's no urge to be back there again in a hurry.  
There was an urge of a different nature though - an urge to ram my head through the fence or chuck a bowl through their clubhouse window - but fortunately this was controlled. I do need to be wary of such demons raising their ugly head again though.  

It's bowls, I got tonked and it can happen. One shite result doesn't make me a poorer player overnight. 

Although patting myself on the back for remaining composed for as long as I did, keeping calm throughout the whole game is the only hope of a comeback. This caught me by surprise tonight though. Perhaps I got a bit caught up in my little winning bubble and it needed bursting to descend my feet back firmly on to the ground.
Unsuprisingly with some players on their books that could be Thursday nighting at a higher level, Tony included, our Eagle Reds went down to defeat in our last game of the season. But the concensus was we are a good bunch who have a crack regardless of results and as is the end of season ritual, have a whip round for our brilliant, extremely knowledgeable non-playing captain (although at one time a very good player) Harry Glynn. It's a pleasure to be doing part of my apprenticeship under his wing. 

HANDICAP JUST ENOUGH TO SCRAPE IN TO PRESIDENT'S  DAY

17/8/22

EAGLE & CHILD PRESIDENT'S DAY TROPHY: 1st ROUND
v PHIL BRADSHAW W 21-19 (Off +2 v -6) Actual score: 19-25

Despite being landed the toughest draw on paper, the handicap system was generous and just about generous enough to scrape me through to Sunday's last sixteen finals day.
All things considered, I was quietly confident. Really, really quietly. So quiet the human ear couldn't detect it. Our dogs knew, our cat definitely knew. But nobody else did.
The Eagle green was running fast and so consistency was always going to be a challenge for me, but with eight chalks in my favour from the off, I reckoned I had a chance to scrape over the line first if I could send enough good bowls when they mattered.
Phil took me to the cleaners a bit in our Members League match earlier in the Summer and so even with this handicap aiding my cause, I knew I had to push him much harder to make the advantage count.
A good start was paramount and I stayed with him for long enough to give myself a fighting chance. At 13-7 (real terms 11-13) I was doing just that. Then we were 16-10 (14-15) I think, but just as I could see the line, Phil seemed to step up the pressure and superbly measured lead bowls were being joined by a second one of equal quality and I was feeling the squeeze. A scratch game to 21 would have been lost at this point, but I could have walked away happy to have pushed this classy opponent as far as I did.
Back in handicap contest reality though, I was still going. I then had a couple of good ends to hit nineteen first. Now this really was that scrap of an opportunity that I dared to believe could happen. I reckon my furry friends at home were pricking their ears at this point. 
Once again though, Phil came back and we were nineteen across. With block in hand, he was then lying game near the middle edge of the green with two well weighted, but not unbeatable efforts that swung over the middle of the crown. My first bowl was on the road but had way too much energy behind it and clunked in to the gutter. My second was a good length but just pegged away and I thought I'd blown it, hoping I'd saved one at best, but Phil is puzzled at my chunnering curses as I approach... "It's won it!", he assures me.
Next end and my first is two foot through but just counts. My second is slightly nearer but short and very surprisingly Phil's last bowl didn't get near and I got myself over the line. 

The actual score of 19-25 against this mon though reads bloody well to me. Whether or not he's playing much at the moment, wants it as much as I do, it's irrelevant. Phil is a quality player.
In my opinion he's just a level above the rest at the Eagle & Child. On top of his ability, Phil Bradshaw is a good sportsman, happy to share his knowledge and offer encouragement. The club's 'top block' with very good reason in my opinion.
At one point he is still coaching me about my dubious choice of shot on the previous end after I'd sent the jack on the next end... trying hard to listen whilst keeping my eye on the mark... just the sort of multi-tasking I struggle with! But I actually appreciated his interest in my game.
Some good players are a closed book as if they have secrets to guard and there's little chance of a conversation about the match or bowls in general.
As a competitive runner, rarely a runner I've met at any level that doesn't want to talk about running. What's wrong with one or two of these bowling folk?
I'm growing to love this game of crown green and once I've half an idea of what I'm doing, I'd like to think I would give something back, be encouraging to new bowlers and break this rather draconian old school poker-faced mentality. 

If not crippling the game of more folk giving it a go, then certainly contributing to folk not enjoying the game enough to stick with it. 

I think I'm digressing in to a seperate blog post here, but it's just something I've noticed and something Phil's comparitively open book just highlights.

It can be a serious game, you need to concentrate, we would all rather win than lose, but the game needn't be played as if signs of emotion or social interaction are somehow a weakness. Especially at local level bowling. 

To requote a bowling cliche I've heard from Phil Bradshaw himself on more than one occasion, "We aren't playing for the town clock." 

The 2019 President's Day winner Mr Bradshaw wished me all the best for Sunday and told me to go and win it. A very tall order and especially when I look at the line up in the last sixteen. If I can play at my best then there's half a chance of doing well. 

FUNNY OLD GAME

11/8/22
Leyland & District League Div-4: Eagle Reds 193-141 Wymott
v KRISTIAN JOYNES W 21-2

I've seen Kristian play a few times now. Not a bad player on home soil. He can be a bit loud and rather distracting, but without malice I think. I must admit though, if the game had been close I'd have been asking him politely to bloody well stop chatting whilst I'm delivering my bowls!
A running commentary of the previous end would ramble on in to the next end and, more often than not, the tale would surmise about his own rotten luck.
It wasn't all Kristian's bad fortune that swayed this game though. He didn't get to grips with our fast running green and his frequent tactic of trying to run through with the jack came close a few times, but quickly totted up credit to my score sheet.
I'd sent maybe only four or five bowls that I was personally content with and yet was only just getting going when I heard the scores sounded at 16-2! This really was a funny old game.
I saw the game out with some much better woods, although Kristian landed a cracking strike to null what looked like my winning end. (He rightfully enjoyed that one!) But I put two more decent ones up and this time he struck wide.
I'd rushed there after work, was tenth match on so waited nearly two hours to play and was expecting a better game than this from Kristian. But such personal anti-climax aside, most importantly it was one of eight wins from our team as the Thursday night chaps pulled one out of the bag against rivals in the bottom three to eliminate any fears of propping up the table with one match remaining. 

THIS SEASON JUST GETS BETTER

4/8/22
Leyland & District League Div-4: Hoole Village Hall 'A' 195-164 Eagle Reds
v GILL JOHNSTON W 21-10

After lecturing myself about the importance of really believing since Monday night's encounter, I was chuffed with the manner of this latest away victory.
Gill's a good player and a year ago she might well have murdered me here, but even during an earlier period of the match where she was in control, I kept the pressure on and eventually squeezed her out of contention.
The match started by getting the second biggest* laugh of the night as I sent my bowl first, instead of the jack! Not my finest moment. Having travelled to Hoole on vapour, I was on the mat still wittering with some chaps on the greenside about the opening hours of nearby Suther's Garage.
Concentration loss ended there though. I was on it and built up a 6-0 lead until Gill broke in and went on to win the next seven ends. This was a very good game shaping up, but unphased by her good lead bowls, I limited her to singles and made Gill work very hard to edge in to that lead. I didn't fluster, firmly believing I'd get in again soon and when I did at 6-7, went on my biggest break yet that took me up to 19 and then all-but. 

I was playing well and whilst Gill wasn't far off the mark and unlucky a couple times when finding a gap despite contact looking more likely, I was feeling the lovely green surface of Hoole as if it was my own.
With a point required, Gill got back in and she held the block for three more ends until I landed another close one to win it. 

Gill seemed a bit perplexed at having played well and got nowt much in return. But I was flying in this match and on the matter of belief, this performance reiterated my quiet feeling that there is still more improvement to come. If I can play like this consistently, then I should become much more of a pain in the arse to play against at this level of bowling.
A third away win in succession, four wins on the spin in the Leyland league, three on the trot in the Chorley league, 15 wins from the last 22 in all competitions... widen the doors please, big head alert. 

The season could end now and I'd be a happy bunny, but there's still a few league matches and three or four tournaments to contest in which to try and push on further. 

*The biggest laugh of the evening came when Paul Briggs landed a very nice two in front of our visitors end. Briggsy was getting stick, our lot asking him if he knew what to do and if he had ever signalled with two raised arms before. "Aye, they're normally dahn theer", he concedes. 😄 

Ok, so you had to be there...

WINNING IS BELIEVING 

1/8/22

Chorley & District League Div-3: Eagle & Child 'A' 138-160 Fox Lane 'A'

v DAVE CHARLESWORTH W 21-20

Once I saw the draw take shape on the scoreboard outside our clubhouse, the nerves began to wobble. Pre-match nervousness was becoming a thing of the past, but the sight of Sutton v Charlesworth got me on edge. 

A tough match was always in prospect up against a strong Fox Lane line-up in this local derby game, but with respect to some of their excellent bowlers, Dave Charlesworth was the one I really didn't fancy much chance of winning against. 

Dave reached the last sixteen of this year's Spring Waterloo. The last time I saw him in action was when watching a competition at Penwortham last Autumn. He played extremely well against Callum Wraight, but yet didn't get much change from the game's top player. Prior to that I'd seen him bully our captain at their place last year. Nine wins from eleven in this league so far, despite struggling with back problems I later discover... enough said. This is why I got the jitters. 

Dave soon got in to the groove and built up an early lead, at 3-9 down I felt I hadn't even rolled a decent wood though. My opponent was playing better than he needed to at this point and the much feared tonking looked on the cards. 

Nervousness gradually morphed in to frustration and whilst frustration isn't good, it did override the nerves and so I was able to start sending a few decent bowls to claw back some points.

Conditions were dry when we started, but Summer rain dropped and the green conditions were changing all the time during the match. Dave remained well in charge of the game though I felt, so it came as a baffling suprise when my teammate scorer, Jack, tells me it's 12-14 after I've just scored a two that I wasn't even happy with. Crazy game, so it is.

Once again though, my opponent restored his lead to four points but I had settled down a bit by now. Improving as the game went on, I put a couple of breaks together and a good two got me the call of 'all-but'. Not recalling Dave getting a shout for 'nineteen', I assumed he was on eightteen so didn't realise how lucky I was to survive the next end. 

Dave had a chance for two but was unusually short - little did I know at the time that it would have been game over.

I didn't fluff my second chance though, Dave again strangely off target on a long straight peg and I got close. His second one didn't quite do enough and I'd done it, on paper perhaps the most noteworthy scalp in the leagues so far. 

I don't want to get carried away with my improvement this season, but I can give good players a game now and win. I've proved it on enough occasions to believe it. I just need to actually believe it!

A cracking win for me, but a fairly convincing loss for the team unfortunately. We still cling on to second spot though with four to play.