BONKERS COMEBACK TAKES TROPHY
Wednesday 27th September 20238
TIM ROBINSON MEMBERS DOUBLES
FinalPaired with BARRY WRIGHT
v HENRY HOYLES & COLIN PROCTOR W 31-30 (Off 6-6)
All Barry and I had to do was produce more of the same and we were well and truly in with a shout of our names being engraved upon the latest winners plaque of the Tim Robinson trophy.
Emphasis on a good start was once again on my mind as I walked down to the green, but I was also wary of this being our biggest test so far. Expecting nothing less than a close game, this match wasn't to go anything like our previous rounds.
In the first place, we were fortunate that conditions were playable as a transatlantic depression quite typical for this time of the year, had rained off the afternoon doubles league action, but the forecast was generally fairer for this evening.
"Storm Agnes" was upon us, we were told. Beginning with 'A', the first of the alphabetically named season and with classification of the word "storm" used dubiously, in this instance. Even if it was a storm in every sense of the word, why the needless copycat culture of attaching said weather system with a name?
Needless use of Americanisms had already got me chunnering to my wife earlier in the day when engineers doing work across the road produced a sign on the footpath declaring, "Footway Closed". "Footway?!"
A digression it would seem... "My bad!"... so back to the bowling...
Just as our final got started, so-called ''Storm Agnes'' did provide an untimely squall of unpleasant gusts and horizontal rain.
'A' for Agnes, 'B' for Barry, but "Storm Barry" however, didn't arrive as forecasted.
Barry has played a blinder in this competition and his lead bowling has been pivotal in paving our way to a place in this final. But he started all over the place in this match and we got ourselves in a pickle pretty quickly.
I turned up at the green relaxed and ready to compliment Barry's game decisively tonight, so it came as a surprise when end after end, Barry wasn't there and whilst not starting particularly well myself, the pressure was on from the off.
It was my two bowls versus Henry and Colin's four for maybe half a dozen ends or more. Henry was putting up good leads, whilst skilful Colin showed his green knowledge from the back to inflict further punishment and we didn't stand a chance.
Both pairs starting off six, we only managed one point to Henry and Colin's thirteen in that brutal period, with the worst of the deficit sounded out loud by match scorer John Waddecar, at 7-19.
As the weather conditions eased, Barry removed his waterproof and maybe that was hampering his delivery, for he started getting in to the game after that point.
It all seemed too little, too late, though. We hadn't even been getting the little knocks going our way either - there was a feeling it just wasn't to be.
I'd been petulantly letting a bit of steam off with the usual headshakes of dismay, wittering to myself, back-heeling my woods in to the ditch and even hunching over to stare at the ground for mercy. But I think when we got to the point of shrugging shoulders about the situation and making a joke of it, we seemed to start picking a few points up at last. Something like 15-24 rang a bell when I remember saying, "Let's just try and get to twenty Barry, come on".
For a second time in the game, we had a switch around and I went first. This time it turned out to be a good move.
We had a period of grinding out a few one's that really could have gone either way, but importantly I had the jack more than Henry and then points were starting to be gained on merit with Barry now well and truly back in the game.
An unbelievable bonus of a four took us in to the twenties and just four behind at 22-26. With that sub-ambition of a respectable score now achieved and our opponents just not mopping everything up with the regularity as earlier in the game, it's not as if I dared to believe and I don't think Barry did either at this point. It's a match and you just carry on trying until it's conclusion. So if not a faint sniff of glory in the air, the stench of dramatic failure had at least dispersed.
Just as our final got started, so-called ''Storm Agnes'' did provide an untimely squall of unpleasant gusts and horizontal rain.
'A' for Agnes, 'B' for Barry, but "Storm Barry" however, didn't arrive as forecasted.
Barry has played a blinder in this competition and his lead bowling has been pivotal in paving our way to a place in this final. But he started all over the place in this match and we got ourselves in a pickle pretty quickly.
I turned up at the green relaxed and ready to compliment Barry's game decisively tonight, so it came as a surprise when end after end, Barry wasn't there and whilst not starting particularly well myself, the pressure was on from the off.
It was my two bowls versus Henry and Colin's four for maybe half a dozen ends or more. Henry was putting up good leads, whilst skilful Colin showed his green knowledge from the back to inflict further punishment and we didn't stand a chance.
Both pairs starting off six, we only managed one point to Henry and Colin's thirteen in that brutal period, with the worst of the deficit sounded out loud by match scorer John Waddecar, at 7-19.
As the weather conditions eased, Barry removed his waterproof and maybe that was hampering his delivery, for he started getting in to the game after that point.
It all seemed too little, too late, though. We hadn't even been getting the little knocks going our way either - there was a feeling it just wasn't to be.
I'd been petulantly letting a bit of steam off with the usual headshakes of dismay, wittering to myself, back-heeling my woods in to the ditch and even hunching over to stare at the ground for mercy. But I think when we got to the point of shrugging shoulders about the situation and making a joke of it, we seemed to start picking a few points up at last. Something like 15-24 rang a bell when I remember saying, "Let's just try and get to twenty Barry, come on".
For a second time in the game, we had a switch around and I went first. This time it turned out to be a good move.
We had a period of grinding out a few one's that really could have gone either way, but importantly I had the jack more than Henry and then points were starting to be gained on merit with Barry now well and truly back in the game.
An unbelievable bonus of a four took us in to the twenties and just four behind at 22-26. With that sub-ambition of a respectable score now achieved and our opponents just not mopping everything up with the regularity as earlier in the game, it's not as if I dared to believe and I don't think Barry did either at this point. It's a match and you just carry on trying until it's conclusion. So if not a faint sniff of glory in the air, the stench of dramatic failure had at least dispersed.
It went 25-28, then 27-29... now hang on a minute, we're in this! With jack in hand I send a round peg along the clubhouse side that I'm confident of nailing, but my bowl curls off short by maybe a yard. Henry meanwhile, licks it with a perfect shot and suddenly momentum feels like it's swinging back the other way again. I overcook my second wood by a similar distance, but fortunately Barry sent a good one for second place and Colin's last bowl just gave up despite being on the right road to taking the match. We breath again at 27-30.
Henry goes back where we came from, a little higher up and a tricky mark that he didn't do so well on. My first one was close and my slightly narrower second was also counting still as Colin played through but somehow missed everything except a tight gap and so gesticulated instructions were clear for Barry's last wood of the end - "Anything in this area for a three!"... and he delivered. What an end to get a three.
30-30. All-but across. How did we get here? I think Henry and Colin were wondering the same thing.
I round peg towards the roadside corner where I tend to practice a lot, take my time and land a good lead, especially under the circumstances. Henry overruns his first bowl and then goes for a direct hit on his second, but thankfully it whistles by. Barry knocks mine even nearer with a cracking back-up bowl and Colin has to have a go at them. His bowls had been dangerous all night and his first wasn't far off splatting something, but unusually his second is tight and off course. He flings the mat almost immediately after sending and that's it. We took the lead for the first time in the match at the only point it really mattered I suppose.
Henry goes back where we came from, a little higher up and a tricky mark that he didn't do so well on. My first one was close and my slightly narrower second was also counting still as Colin played through but somehow missed everything except a tight gap and so gesticulated instructions were clear for Barry's last wood of the end - "Anything in this area for a three!"... and he delivered. What an end to get a three.
30-30. All-but across. How did we get here? I think Henry and Colin were wondering the same thing.
I round peg towards the roadside corner where I tend to practice a lot, take my time and land a good lead, especially under the circumstances. Henry overruns his first bowl and then goes for a direct hit on his second, but thankfully it whistles by. Barry knocks mine even nearer with a cracking back-up bowl and Colin has to have a go at them. His bowls had been dangerous all night and his first wasn't far off splatting something, but unusually his second is tight and off course. He flings the mat almost immediately after sending and that's it. We took the lead for the first time in the match at the only point it really mattered I suppose.
Crown green bowls can be a truly bonkers game. Just how Barry and I got ourselves back in to this final was one thing, to pinch it on the last end was incredible really. Henry and Colin might be scratching their heads in as much disbelief at how this game just slipped away from them.
You had to feel for our opponents in this situation. They played a better game really, but having dominated and looked highly likely to charge away with a seemingly easy win, perhaps they started to feel a bit of pressure themselves.
Young Henry has improved a lot since I partnered him in the Spring Doubles. He has a lovely smooth delivery and much more control now, particularly when in charge of the jack - which at one point looked like it was going to be all night.
Thirteen years of age, this young lad has barrel loads of potential.
Colin was just shy of becoming the first player to win this competition for a third time.
I doubt Barry and I will be paired together next year for the opportunity to defend the trophy, but make a decent double act I think.
You had to feel for our opponents in this situation. They played a better game really, but having dominated and looked highly likely to charge away with a seemingly easy win, perhaps they started to feel a bit of pressure themselves.
Young Henry has improved a lot since I partnered him in the Spring Doubles. He has a lovely smooth delivery and much more control now, particularly when in charge of the jack - which at one point looked like it was going to be all night.
Thirteen years of age, this young lad has barrel loads of potential.
Colin was just shy of becoming the first player to win this competition for a third time.
I doubt Barry and I will be paired together next year for the opportunity to defend the trophy, but make a decent double act I think.
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