OSCC, 70 all out, lost to Pinner, 73-5, by 5 wickets
&
OSCC, 230 all out, lost to Waresley, 255-7, by 25 runs
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Cunt!"
That disappointingly profane assessment of proceedings from one of Offley's dismissed batsmen in the death throes of Sunday's defeat was nonetheless a reasonable summing up of a weekend where Offley lost twice and nine of 19 batsmen were out without scoring.
A weekend that began with Dan Goord falling first ball to set in motion an unfortunate collapse to 15-6 at Pinner ended with Eugene Baxter falling to his first ball for the club and capping a splendid collapse from 207-3 to 230 all out.
Goord won the toss at Pinner and after some hesitation elected to bat on a hot sunny day that conjured memories of Greenwood Park for those unfortunate enough to have suffered through that debacle.
The stand-in skipper (and no, putting Dan back in charge isn't like giving the bloke who steered the Titanic into an iceberg command of another ship) was forced to weigh up the possibility of fielding with seven men at the end of the game on account of Ali Shah and his two accomplices having to leave at 6pm or fielding with seven men at the start on account of Ali and his two accomplices not having arrived at the ground by the time the coin was tossed.
There should have been three accomplices but one of them failed to make the trip.
Wise fellow.
A promising opening stand of 1 was broken when Goord was pinned in front fourth ball of the match, his third duck in four innings in 2022.
Consequently it's fair to say that captaincy is not affecting his batting.
Steve Bexfield and the lately-arrived Ali joined forces and Bexfield briefly made batting look easy as he unfurled two boundaries and helped Offley reach the sunlit uplands of 10-1 before it all went to shit.
Bexfield, evidently under the impression he was Harry Potter, idly wafted his wand outside off stump and was caught behind for 9.
Ali followed moments later for 2.
Ben Wiles - usual flaw getting bored and dismissed in the 40s - lost his middle stump without scoring before Zee achieved the unusual double of combining the last letter of the alphabet with the first number as he recorded his second duck in as many innings for the club.
Richie Barker logged the fourth duck of the day as he guided one feebly to gully.
If Bexfield was guilty of impersonating Harry Potter, Barker's waft mustered all the power of a frustrated Debbie McGee trying to wank off a flaccid Paul Daniels.
At this point the scoreboard read 15-6 and the lowest score in club history seemed a distinct possibility.
Enter the King of Pinner.
Once upon a time, before he became the Duke of Offley, plain old Roger Piepenstock resided in Pinner. Delighted to be returning to his roots, Piepenstock proceeded to play the innings of his Offley life.
Prior to Saturday 17 trips to the crease had produced 60 runs at an average of 3.52 and a solitary score in double figures.
Had things turned out differently this blog entry might have been entitled Lock, Cock & Two Smoking Piepenstocks after he flayed the bowlers to all parts and shared a stand of 37 with Darren Lunney.
Piepenstock was in inspired form, cracking the ball through the covers and when he split his bat a metaphorical ring of his slain surrounded the shattered blade in a scene that will doubtless be commemorated on canvas in the billiard room of Piepenstock Palace, Piepenstock's Last Stand.
The gritty Lunney fell for 12 before Arfeen Khan unleashed a couple of defiant blows as Offley edged close to 70.
The end came when Piepenstock - who used to be a tennis player of some renown in the region - unfurled a majestic cross-court backhand but unfortunately missed a straight full toss.
Moments later it was all over when Steve Denton was bowled without scoring, the fifth Offley player to depart without opening his account.
Goord looked to rally the troops at the interval, delivering an impassioned speech and then leading the team out in a SoulCal T-Shirt.
Chavtastic leadership of the highest class there, Daniel.
Wiles made a breakthrough in his opening over as Goord clung on to a sharp chance in his role of stand-in keeper. After that in all honesty it was not his best display behind the stumps and he will doubtless be ruing the fact that had he got a little more of a glove on a Wiles delivery he might have been able to divert it into Barker's face at slip instead of just hitting him in the chest.
At the other end Ali helped himself to a couple of early wickets, one of which came courtesy of a spectacularly dubious LBW decision.
Wiles struck again and Ali grabbed a third to give Offley hope as the hosts slumped to 33-5.
The contest came down to a shootout between Wiles, tearing in down the slope faster than Ali chasing after a Mars bar, and Pinner's Kiwi talisman, one Baker.
Wiles was superb but Baker proved the immovable object defeats the irresistible force and with Wiles bowled out (8-3-8-2), the game petered out into the inevitable home win, Arfeen conceding nearly twice as many runs (15) in seven deliveries as Wiles allowed in eight overs.
The chance to bounce back arrived 24 hours later in a big promotion clash with Waresley on a pitch that showed while Bexfield may now have his flaws and limitations as a batsman, he is capable of producing the goods as a groundsman.
Skippered by a splendidly inebriated Scott Boatwright, clearly guilty of being drunk in charge of a cricket team, Offley rocked up on a scorching hot day desperate to win the toss and bat, no one more so than the captain who walked out to the middle with Smirnoff dripping from his pores.
He lost, was invited to field and promptly delegated keeping duties to Jono Evetts.
A brief summing up of the first half of the Waresley innings will record that Peter Gilkes produced arguably the worse new ball spell ever seen at Offley.
Serving up a smorgasbord of pies and other tasty treats, Gilkes allowed the visitors to get off to a flying start and lost the new ball in the process when it was dispatched into a holly bush.
This left Wiles to spearhead the attack with an old ball.
The visiting captain Ben Irish made the most of Gilkes' generosity as he helped himself to a century before drinks, Waresley reaching the halfway point on 138-1.
Rehaan Samdani spurned the chance to dismiss Irish when he grassed a difficulty chance from a cunningly disguised Gilkes half-tracker and Josh Hook later missed a hard chance on the boundary off Samdani.
It was not a day when Offley distinguished themselves in the field. James Barker, generally one of the better fielders in the team performed a fine impression of Stephen Hawking with his wheelchair stuck in quicksand as he allowed not one, not two, not three but four balls to go through his legs or hands for a boundary.
Lunney and Hook were both victims of spin on the boundary and Boatwright lumbered past one like a stricken panda who has overdone it on the bamboo shots before eventually disappearing into the undergrowth to shout soup.
This was vaguely reminiscent of Hitler vanishing into his bunker to deploy phantom armies before blowing his brains out.
It was also very reminiscent of Hexton (on that occasion Boatwright disappeared into the car park to renew acquaintances with his lunch), wherever we went on tour in Devon (although technically he was just a spectator for that one) and possibly Preston but I can't be certain. Nonetheless there is a theme here.
Consequently it could have been much worse.
However, Richie Barker struck in his first over to remove Parsons for 38 and break a 130-run stand and later removed Irish, caught by Hook for 126.
James Barker helped himself to three wickets (including a caught and bowled that rubbed salt in the wounds of the other bowlers whose figures he had dented) as the middle order folded somewhat and the other Barker also added a third when he bowled Harry Tuke-Hastings, probably not the sort of name you're familiar with unless you move in the same social circles as Viscount Piepenstock.
Gilkes returned for a couple of overs before withdrawing from the attack with figures of 5-0-47-0. In fairness they weren't significantly worse than Samdani's 8-0-49-0 or Lunney's 6-0-58-0.
As it was Wiles bowled the final over and conceded just a single as the visitors closed on 255-7.
Within two balls of the reply getting underway Hook had become the sixth Offley batter of the weekend to bag a duck, edging a wide one to the keeper.
Wiles and Evetts joined together and batted like Ronnie O'Sullivan as they compiled a whirlwind 147.
The pair ran brilliantly between the wickets and Wiles launched a number of glorious drives down the ground while Evetts played some cracking strokes off the back foot as they hammered a succession of bowlers out of the attack and built a platform for a victory charge.
The stand ended when Wiles lobbed a catch to backward point, a dismissal that was either tame, lazy or careless and probably a combination of the three.
At that moment it was a very much a case of after the lord mayor's show as John Davis shambled out to the middle like the town drunk and almost immediately shambled back, the seventh duck of the weekend safely logged in the scorebook. Perhaps appropriately it was also the seventh duck of his 17-innings Offley career.
Lunney joined Evetts and the pair revived Offley's hopes, sharing a 59-run stand to lead Offley past 200.
With Lunney determined to run everything, regardless of risk, and Evetts displaying the air of a man contemplating a heart attack who quite frankly wishes a few more boundaries might be on the menu, Offley inched ever closer to their target.
The score was 207-3 when Evetts scooped one to deep midwicket to go for an excellent 90 whereupon, as on the previous day, it all went to shit.
James Barker produced an innings and dismissal to rank alongside his fielding as he perished attempting something agricultural for 4, Samdani was trapped LBW for 3 and Boatwright clambered off his deathbed and popped up a return catch to depart for 1.
The other Barker looked unusually competent for five balls before reprising his dismissal of the day before and cutting one to point, whereupon he marched off uttering the observations that can be found at the start of this piece.
By the time Barker had found a chair to kick, Gilkes (owner of the eighth duck of the weekend) was already on his way back to the pavilion having passed up the chance to play a supporting role to Lunney leaving a panicked Baxter (who had strapped on his pads before the openers walked out; can't blame him in light of Saturday really) to try and locate the box that had slipped down his trouser leg as he scrambled out to face his first ball for the club.
He'll have to wait at least a week for the second one.
Lunney was left high and dry on 30 (Wiles, Evetts and Lunney combined for 185 while the not-so-elite-eight mustered the grand total of 14 between them), as Offley contrived to lose their final four wickets in 10 balls and were dismissed with 20 balls remaining.
All in all this one hurts and not just because we collectively punched the self-destruct button so bloody hard.
It would have been one of the highest successful run chases in club history and instead goes down as one of the biggest fuck ups because at 207-3 the game really should have been won.
At the very least it should have gone to the final over.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Cunt!"
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