Himley CC 2nd XI:
147 / 4 off 37 overs (revised target 217 off 37 overs, due to rain)
Owen Beynon 2/38
By order of the Bartestree Blinders, the First XI marched into Himley on the 24th of May, under skies as grey as the backstreets of Small Heath. Rain threatened from above, and the mood was tense. The lads arrived late, as if on Shelby time—deliberate, defiant, and without apology. No warm-up, no fuss. Let the toss decide the mood. Himley won it and, fancying their chances, sent Bartestree in to bat. They thought they'd rattled us. They were wrong.

Saminda and Ed strode to the crease, ready to do business. But Ed fell early, gone with just nine on the board. Himley grinned. They wouldn’t be grinning long. George joined Saminda, and the pair began building—slow, methodical, unforgiving. George played the anchor, while Saminda unleashed hell. Boundaries flew like bricks in a street brawl. Himley’s bowlers looked rattled, fielders scattered, and the scoreboard ticked relentlessly. Saminda was batting like he had a vendetta, and George’s steady 16 gave him the perfect platform. Once George fell, Max entered the fray, bringing the calm control of a man who’s seen it all before. His rotation of strike, his timing, his ruthless punishment of anything loose—it was classic Max. Together with Saminda, he added another 61 runs, as the innings soared.

Then came the moment. Saminda, bat raised, brought up his maiden BLCC century with a paddle sweep—flair, finesse, and fury all rolled into one. The boys erupted. Late arrival forgiven. Reputation sealed. Eventually, he fell—skying a high ball that was taken brilliantly—but the damage was done. Himley were reeling. Ryan came in next, like a one-man cavalry charge. He hammered a brutal 50, each shot landing like a right hook to Himley’s pride. He played with aggression and swagger, burying the bowlers under the pressure of a rising run rate. With a few useful hits from the tail, Bartestree posted a daunting 256. Rain had flirted all day, but the real storm had already hit. It was called Saminda.

As Himley prepared to bat, their captain turned diplomat, whispering sweet nothings to the umpires in search of a delay. Rain played along. While they waited, Bartestree turned to French cricket in the outfield, though Harry Daws’ version of the rules raised more than a few eyebrows. Eventually, the covers came off. Time for business. Tom opened the bowling with the precision of a trained marksman, finding movement and creating pressure. Rhianna, steady and sharp, backed him up, and Saminda patrolled close in like a street enforcer. Himley couldn’t find a gap. Tom struck first, leaving them wobbling at 1-26.

Then the opposition captain came in, moaning about the rain again. A second delay followed—frustration boiled over in the dugout, especially from Max. The game resumed with the match shortened to 37 overs. Tom finished his spell, and then Max and Owen took charge. On a pitch offering tricks and traps, Owen was deadly. He removed the Himley captain with a gem, then followed up with another scalp—thanks to a fine catch behind from Saminda. Himley weren’t chasing anymore. They were surviving, hoping for scraps—just bonus points now.

Max bowled beautifully, unlucky not to claim a wicket, until Ryan tossed down an absolute shocker. It was belted—straight to Max, who pulled off a one-handed screamer that left jaws on the floor. Surely it was caught on the livestream. The game drifted toward its end. Ryan handed the ball to Ed, who charged in with quiet menace. One over, one stump-shattering dismissal. Job done. Another 20 points in the bank, and Bartestree rise to sixth—just 19 points off second. The momentum is building, and the whispers are starting.

The Bartestree Blinders aren’t just here to compete. They’re here to take over.

Tom O'Connor