A Colts Day Out in Sevenoaks - 1973

I will always remember that day in 1973 when the Colts team was due to play Holmesdale Colts in Sevenoaks.

Earlier in the week at a committee meeting, my request for the club to fund colts minibus expenses to away matches concluded with a negative decision. Net practice two days later was severely disrupted when the groundsman drove the tractor straight through them on the basis that they were in the way. To end an awful week the minibus that I ordered to take the team to Sevenoaks failed to show.

There we were twelve boys and me stranded at Berengrove Park without transport with only one hour before the start of the game in Sevenoaks. What could we do? Some quick thinking was needed. I phoned the minibus company only to find that they hadn’t made my booking and no bus was available.

“What about the train?” suggested a squeaky voiced, 14 year old John Mitchell.

“Good thinking”, I replied.

All thirteen of us, one man and twelve boys immediately made off in the direction of Rainham railway station, Phil Cross and Shane Poynter huffing and puffing as they dragged the team bag along and tried to keep up with the rest of us

I hurriedly got the train times and connections from the ticket seller on the station. He suggested that we travel on a group ticket to Bromley South then a connecting train to Sevenoaks. Agreed! I pulled a wad of notes from my pocket, handed over the money and took the ticket and change. I quickly explained the situation to the boys while almost foaming at the mouth with tension then, realizing that the starting time of the match was closing in, I rushed for the nearest phone box. Mobile phones weren’t in use in those days. I frantically dialled the Holmesdale Colts manager and by luck he was at home. Luckily he was an understanding man and sympathising with my predicament told me that he would arrange to have us all picked up at Sevenoaks station and would delay the start of the match.

Soon we were piling on to the Victoria bound train with bags, bats and food, a motley crew of boys eager for a game of cricket and hungry for victory after a great 20 overs victory over rivals Frindsbury just one week earlier. No sooner had I stopped Pat Patel and Shane Poynter from poking their heads out of the window and several others passing loud, sexually orientated remarks to an attractive but agitated teenage girl, we had reached Bromley South.

Within minutes the connecting train to Sevenoaks had arrived. I looked at my watch; it was 2-30, the match start time.

“OK, everybody on the train”, I shouted as the boys noisily clambered aboard.

Once everyone was seated I decided to give them the game plan.

“If we field Phil Cross will keep wicket, Kevin Sherhod and Ian Tomlinson will open the bowling. Greg Ingleton first change and Mark Williams and Pat Patel to bowl spin. If we bat first Neil Wanstall and Dilip Patel will open, Mark Swaine number three, John Mitchell four, Phil Cross five”

The boys looked at me with glazed expressions as their conversation about the pretty girl on the other train reached a climax.

No sooner had everything settled than we were bundling off the train and rushing towards the exit gates of Sevenoaks station. I spotted the Holmesdale man immediately with what appeared to be a spacious estate car.

“Six of you in here then I’ll come back for the others”, he shouted as we approached.

“Thanks for your help”, I replied. “I’m sorry about the delay.”

Without order or concern the strongest six colts fought their way past the others and were piled up with bags and food in the car. The others, looking forlorn with me at their side waved as the estate car pulled away in the direction of Holmesdale Cricket Club.

Within twenty minutes the estate car was back and with more order the remaining boys and I got into the vehicle. I felt a sense of relief.

“We’ll have a reduced game of twenty overs a side”, suggested the Holmesdale manager.

“That’s fine”, I replied.

Upon arrival at the ground, a picturesque place with a quaint pavilion and tennis courts at the side, Mark Swaine, the captain, tossed the coin only to lose. Holmesdale had chosen to bat first.

The Holmesdale openers looked very stylish at the crease and threatened for a time against the fearsome pace of Kevin Sherhod and Ian Tomlinson whose loose deliveries were immediately dispatched to the boundary. The breakthrough came with the score at 23. Shane Poynter then joined Sherhod with his medium pace seamers and caused all kinds of problems for the home side. As he swung and seamed the ball the home batsmen had little answer. He finished with figures of 5-34 and Holmesdale were dismissed for 98. He was well backed up by Kevin Sherhod who finished with 3-32.

After an enjoyable tea the Rainham openers were soon at the crease. At first it appeared that Holmesdale’s bowlers meant business. Firstly, Dilip Patel went cheaply, quickly followed by Mark Swaine then John Mitchell. At 25-3 things were looking a little ominous. It was at this time that the determined Neil Wanstall who later went on to play hockey for Gore Court and England was joined by an equally determined Phil Cross. The pair of them fought against adversity and what initially looked to be a problem turned out to be a stroll as their unbroken partnership of 75 allowed Rainham to take a seven wicket victory with several overs remaining. Neil Wanstall finished on 53 not out and Phil Cross on 24 not out.

The first to congratulate and hug the batsmen was that great clubman both in the colts and later in the senior sides, Trevor Bishop. The Holmesdale players too, were happy at having a hard fought match while their manager was full of praise.

Chirping wildly like a flock of sparrows the Rainham players were bundled into several cars, courtesy of the Holmesdale parents and within twenty minutes were boarding the Bromley South bound train from Sevenoaks, a good day’s work accomplished.

While the players chatted about the local talent they had seen and boys who had been beaten up recently at school I sat in almost total silence, exhausted from a day of worry, organization and the match. I couldn’t even be bothered to raise my voice as Pat Patel pulled down the window and poked his head out to see if a train was approaching from the opposite direction. Dilip Patel said something in Gujarati to him but I didn’t understand.

After changing at Bromley South we eventually arrived at Rainham at 8-30 in the evening. We said our statutory goodbyes then Neil Wanstall, Phil Cross and myself took the team kit bag in the direction of the Rainham ground in Berengrave Lane. The gate was locked, nobody was there and all of us were exhausted. Thinking quickly I thought of the Rainham cricketer who lived in the bungalow opposite the ground. I knocked at his door but he wasn’t in, only his frail old mother who kindly allowed us to leave the bag there. All was complete. Phil Cross then departed and myself and Neil Wanstall began our trek in the direction of Upchurch.

Upon reaching Otterham Quay a blue and white car drew up alongside us with a screech. A head popped out of the driver’s window. It was Neil’s father.

“Where the hell have you been”, he shouted at Neil. “I’ve been searching these roads for the past hour.”

I tried to explain the problem but it was of no use. Neil’s father wasn’t interested.

“I’m sorry David but that’s the last time that Neil will be playing.”

As he spoke Neil Wanstall climbed into the car and it sped off leaving me standing almost speechless in the middle of the road in complete darkness.

The following Saturday I reached Rainham library to be picked up by the First XI for a Saturday away match. Suddenly the rotund figure of the fellow Rainham cricketer at whose bungalow I had left the team bag after the Holmesdale match earlier in the week approached me. He lunged forward and grabbed me by the shirt collar.

“You frightened my mother the other night, you…!!! I’ve a good mind to…!!! You…!!! I struggled free and confronted him in what was the climax to the week.

Who would want to be a colts manager?!

David Wood 2005