Driving across the county of Dorset can prove a double edged sword. For instance, the shire is one of only a few not to possess any stretch of motorway, which engenders a more pleasant, rural sojourn but also leads to traffic issues around major towns, particularly with the almost perpetual drift of holiday makers across its borders either heading to the county’s more famed locales or toward equivalents in Devon and Cornwall. Catch the right moment though and the journey can prove particularly enjoyable, particularly once one has passed through or beyond Poole and Wimborne; the last couple of pinch points in the south-east conurbation of the county before its rural character takes over.
Heading along the stretch of the A31 that circumnavigates the northern stretches of Bournemouth and the southern equivalents of Wimborne at approximately a quarter to five on a Tuesday is a prospect likely to encounter traffic issues, particularly at the latter locale with its Canford Bottom pinch point. Once through one is able to enjoy the part of rural Dorset that is Hardy country whilst pondering the evening’s offerings. Somewhat famously, the writer Thomas Hardy based the main settlement in the Mayor of Casterbridge on the Dorset county town of Dorchester and it is toward the town that one is headed on this particular evening for a match in the eponymous evening league.
Now in its tenth decade of existence, the league was formed in 1933, Dorchester predictably serves as the central hub from which an impressive twenty teams compete across three divisions with a knock-out competition to boot. Local clubs inevitably provide the majority of teams but the third tier also includes New Look / ASM and a team from Puddletown Rugby Club. The latter is the destination for tonight’s contest, albeit involving the cricket club as opposed to the team from the rugby equivalent. Somewhat impressively, Puddletown Cricket Club field three teams in the evening league despite the village populous totalling little more than fifteen hundred denizens. Naturally, sporting demographics are rarely so binary though and one imagines that players are not just drawn from the village itself.
Nevertheless, such a commitment for midweek fixtures is particularly noteworthy at a time when cricket participation, and sporting participation in general, seems to be dwindling. The opening evening of the current league campaign witnesses Puddletown’s second XI play host to Cerne Valley, located some eight or nine miles to the north-east.
Indeed, on a glorious evening with barely a cloud in the sky, but a latent chill in the air when a breeze drifts across the ground, the visitors bowl first and claim a pair of early wickets as the hosts batting line-up is put under pressure. Opening bowler Solo Roper, long hair protruding from a cap worn backwards, scurries in from the pavilion end and proves particularly effective, despite landing his front foot in line with the stumps as opposed to the crease, eventually concluding with 2-19 from his 4 over allocation.
Puddletown’s middle order attempts to increase the scoring rate but frugal bowling from the visitors first change stymies any change of pace; the hosts mustering just thirty-six from the first half of their sixteen overs. Their efforts are influenced by a lush outfield that is liberally decorated with dandelions and daisies, dictating that the currency for a well struck shot is deflated somewhat as the ball oft concludes its journey short of the boundary. Meanwhile, traffic on the nearby A35 and the adjacent road into Puddletown mixes gently with the tap, tap, tap of bat on the Astroturf wicket and birdsong from the surrounding trees and bushes; an interesting juxtaposition in Dorset’s more rural climes
There is no let up from the Cerne Valley attack as the match enters its second quarter. Jamie Edwards threatens a response courtesy of zealous running and deft dabs into spaces for quick singles but a superb running catch from Solo Roper concludes Edwards’ innings. Wickets tumble but James Ayres-Turner launches a six over the short mid-wicket boundary that almost traverses the adjacent path into the neighbouring field. Puddletown’s efforts are summed up by Tom Arkell though, wielding a glorious Duncan Fearnley bat with a retro look from the maker’s glory days, whose attempt to take the aerial route is curtailed when his scudding shot lands in the long grass of the outfield and pops into the air akin to a golfer’s approach to the green with a sand iron, a likely boundary curtailed to just a single.
One ponders whether Cerne Valley’s target of ninety will prove the formality that it appears though. Nevertheless, Cerne Valley glean thirty-seven runs from the first half dozen overs; Ed Gallia to the fore. Gallia strikes a six back over the bowler’s head in the next over and repeats the effort two overs later. As the sun sets to the west over nearby Dorchester, the visitors require just thirty runs from the final seven overs. Amid the early evening gloaming Adam Weir bowls a precious wicket maiden to offer Puddletown a glimmer of hope. Somewhat crucially, the opening delivery of Weir’s next over clatters into the off stump of Gallia and yields a second maiden. Just four runs have been gleaned from eighteen deliveries but Cerne Valley’s batters deftly whittle the requirement to sixteen runs from the final three overs. Ben Carter strikes a late boundary in claiming ten runs from Weir’s final over and the visitors wrestle back the initiative to claim victory with seven deliveries remaining.
Little more than a minute or two separated the end of the evening’s contest and the official time for sunset on this particular evening. The club cricket season proves a short one in comparison to other sports. The evening league season proves even shorter, both in terms of time on each evening and the season as a whole. In division two of the Dorchester Evening League the constituent clubs will play twelve matches, and potentially additional contests in the Doug Read Cup, over a busy three month period before the season draws to a conclusion at the end of July. Driving back across Dorset amid the twilight of an early May evening with the roads all but deserted, save for the occasional vehicle, the twin beauties of travelling in a rural county and evening cricket come to fruition. Another season is off and running.
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