Monday 11th August 2025
CHORLEY & DISTRICT LEAGUE DIV-2: Fox Lane 'A' (145) 8-2 Eagle & Child 'A' (114)v MARTIN BAKER L 9-21
Precisely the opposite to what happened at the start of my game with Nick Dawson happened here at Fox Lane and set the tone for the rest of the match.
I landed two good bowls on a round peg, one in front, one behind. But Martin came in higher, had to be inch perfect and was.
Mr Baker is one of their strongest players and particularly at home. There was a period when I wasn't far off the mark but Martin was picking up the singles and eventually I was ground down in to making mistakes. That said, my opponent got stronger as the match went on and finished me off stretching out to the vast corners here. It's a hell of a chuck. Not quite as stiff as last Thursday. The mower had been out but rather like taking a tea bag out before it's brewed, only a couple of millimetres had been bladed.
Of course, it's their prerogative and as I said last week it's in great condition compared to many parched surfaces around, but more akin to bowling on an impeccable garden lawn than a typical bowling green during this very dry Summer of ours.
Martin finished me off with a corner to corner toucher. What can you do about that? And then a tight measure the other way just as I'd managed to finally get near his long ones. Their man nearby, Gary Davies, fancied mine but when we got up there it was Martin's by a whisker. There were no hard feelings to Gary. It made no difference to my second bowl and in some ways put me out of my misery against an opponent on good form who was just too good for me.
It wasn't a great night in the local derby for us as a team either with just Steve Marginson and Harry Derbyshire earning our two points.
Of particular annoyance to me in this game though was going too narrow on several occasions on the same bleeding mark. There was a war cry and a wood clunked in to the ditch. "Taxi for Sutton" blurted out again. This time Roger Iddon was my suitably situated receptacle of utter fucking frustration. "Four and five fives Roger. Can you call them please? I shouldn't be here." Roger looks a bit unsure, he doesn't know whether to laugh with me, at me or maybe to actually get his phone out and ring the taxi firm!
I have to say sometimes on reflection it's quite funny really when I lose it. The old footballer within will never leave me unfortunately. Folk around the green probably think I should be attending anger management sessions at Hoole Village Hall on a Thursday night with Denise at 7:30pm (apparently she's a whizz) But honestly, if you are competitive, feel you can and should be doing better and then make the same bloody repetitive error it's a recipe for a little bit of a reaction isn't it? Pardon me for being human with humanoid traits.
Fox Laner Tracy Charlesworth, who I have grown to admire very much as a bowler and as a lovely lass, caught me in the car park afterwards and told me her strategies for keeping her cool and how losing it only gives your opponent a boost. "For goodness sake John, I even saw you talking to a bush once", she added. It made me laugh - at myself - and at least I can do that. Things would never get that serious that I can't.
Tracy was so right, but I don't think I can ever stamp out my reactive nature entirely. I think I've got better at keeping it under wraps, but in certain bowling situations I can drive myself nuts. I bet there's one or two poker faced bowlers who make themselves balder and more wrinkly on the green by keeping a lid on it - yet might go watching North End or Rovers at the weekend and absolutely lose their shit at a refereeing decision. Everyone has a fuse and everyone has something irrational to make it trip.
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