ALMOST A COUP AGAINST A COUPE!

Friday 17th May 2024

HUGH HORNBY MERIT TROPHY

1ST QUALIFYING ROUND
At Frenchwood, Preston
v JOHN COUPE L 18-21

Based on recent form, there was reason to genuinely believe I could give a better account of myself in this latest attempt at a singles tournament.
Despite having never even seen the green at Frenchwood before, watching a stacked field of Lancashire's Premier Division and county bowlers roll up, I still felt like I should concentrate on what I can do, rather than worry about what I can't.All that said, I probably exceeded my own expectations by giving a player of John Coupe's clout a proper game.
Without the self inflicted weight of expectation I felt in the league match last night, I turned up relaxed, just played my game and enjoyed it.
No practice and first match on, tails never fails and I win the toss, landing a toucher with my lead bowl. Start as you mean to go on.
The game stayed quite close throughout, even though it felt like it had got away from me at times. I think I led on a few occasions earlier on. All in all, aside from the odd bonk bowl or end when I sent a clanger, I was mainly finding the right road and adjusting length pretty well.
There were shots coming off tonight that didn't quite make it the previous evening. I amazed myself at times, sneaking in when John had two good one's up, knocking him out after he'd knocked me out, a controlled strike to knock me in for two... I was being a massive pain in the backside for him. John changed tact go short, delicate round pegs off the crown and down the distinctive slope of the green that runs adjacent to London Road, which climbs from the River Ribble in to Preston.
He seemed to start inflicting more damage then, sending very difficult bowls to beat, but I started to get the hang of it and broke his rhythm with a few adjusted second bowls that again, I have to pinch myself in hindsight that I pulled off. Too many to just be lucky though, I think?!
John gets the shout of nineteen on the board. I knew I hadn't disgraced myself, but not bothering to know my own tally thinking it might now be irrelevant, little did I know how close I actually was.
Saving the game with one of those trickling little round peggers that had to be spot on, I was up on the next end with a not too shoddy lead effort on the brow of a ridge very near the green's edge. John not only sends his second with better weight to win, but taps his other one nearer than mine in the process. Bugger!
I turn to shake his hand. I find out I'd got to eighteen and was lying nineteen-across until that cracking last bowl of his.
John seemed relieved to have got over the line and was both curious and complimentary of my performance.
He knows the green very well, probably got pre-match information from organiser Andy Fleming that I'm not up to standard and so wasn't expecting such a tough game I suspect.
I explain that I like entering a few comps to gain experience, but often feel out of place in this sort of environment. He assured me, "No, no, you're not out of place", to which I think I gushed and said, "Ah thanks, John!". Doubts, of which there have been plenty lately, about whether or not to continue entering competitions should be eradicated for now after this evening.
On paper, John had the easiest first round draw, but in the end he rated it the toughest of his (no less than) eight games played so far this week. Now that really is a compliment. Not to get carried away of course, but I have a right to feel warmly encouraged about my bowling just now.
John ended the previous week in a last sixteen tie at the Penwortham Singles competition when running his legendary brother Simon close to 17-21. "Golden Arm" as he is known, Simon Coupe has been - and very much still is - one of the all time greats of crown green.
Holder of this trophy, Simon went through again on the night as did John who overcame another tight game against Steven Bolton to make finals day.
Tonight's performance reinstated some confidence and persuaded me that last night's disappointment can probably be brushed under the table as little more than a blip.