Retribution

Inspector Arthur Kent sat fuming in his rickety old chair in front of the scoreboard and pavilion. His team 'Little Linton' XI had been bowled out for a miserable one hundred and nine. A round of applause rang through Kent's ears, The opposition Thursday Co-Op XI, had reached their target without losing a wicket. A further applause greeted the two batsmen. The disillusioned Linton XI trudged off the field and as they approached the pavilion Kent rose awkwardly from his chair and shook hands with the two batsmen He approached his own team.' Stay on the pitch 'he roared'. Well what's your excuse? For that display'. Captain and wicket -keeper Charlie Stubbs went to speak, but Kent interrupted him. 'You're batting was abysmal and the bowling was pathetic'. Ray Jacks and Stan Ormerod lowered their heads, being the new ball bowlers they knew they hadn't performed. 'My mother could have bowled better', continued Kent. 'As you know, this was our penultimate match and we play Moreton on Sunday. I will be expecting a far better performance', Charlie Stubbs managed to get his word in, 'Well Sir we all know that the Thursday X1 are far better than us' Kent almost reached boiling point.

'Stubbs don't let me ever hear you talking like that again'. he said. 'You should always go on the pitch thinking you are going to win' Kent's temper was now beginning to recede. 'Remember a game never won until it's lost'. 'Sunday we play our final match against Moreton' carried on Kent. 'But due to our poor performance today I want you all here for twelve o'clock'. 'We will have a couple of hours in the nets'. 'Also', said Kent 'I want no excuses, no going shopping, no baby sitting whilst the wife visits her mother, and further more no getting pissed in the 'Plough',-that being the local ale house-, on the estate side of the village. 'Ok, that's it, get changed and off you go', Kent had had his say.