After a double header of victories on the previous day the Palmers Sunday outfit arrived in leafy Dormansland chasing an elusive and unprecedented third victory of the weekend. A unique buzz and sense of intent hung in the warm and balmy air of the Palmers’ camp.

Will Dawes, the Palmers Sunday XI skipper who has ushered in a new brand of stylish and compelling cricket during his two year tenure, lost the toss and was inserted on a favourable track. This gave the Palmers’ ranks an opportunity to catch some rays and try to piece themselves back together of some dubious nocturnal activities. Will, in his infinite wisdom, opted to open with the formidable partnership of Messrs Ferrier and Beatty, two of the finest representatives of the much hyped Palmers’ brand. Beatty batted with all the grace of courting swans, and was unfortunate to be given out on the seventh ball of an over. This however allowed the young Tom Scotcher to stride out to the crease with arrogant swagger of someone who could feel runs in his waters. Heads held high, the pair began their onslaught with more poise than the royal ballet. This would take a brief break when delinquents from the Surrey badlands were caught breaking into a neighbouring scout hut. This led to one of the biggest lynch mobs seen outside of the American Bible belt and would trigger several of the Palmers’ team to adopt a Danny Dyer esque attitude and threaten to bring arms out. Scotcher would continue bat well for an admirable, and at times explosive, 53. The much eulogized talents of Richard Potter were on show for the first time this season, who batted with his usual blend of flair and fire. The feared and revered Cal Cleary made a cameo appearance at the crease, and peppered the boundary. This young dashing all rounder has become one of the hottest names on the lips of everyone on the Sussex circuit. J. Dawes batted with a demeanour as cool as a loch at daybreak, but was dismissed in bizarre fashion. Having being caught at square leg off of a no-ball he and Ferrier would meet in the middle and gaze into each others eyes, as if caught in a whirlwind if confusion, as the Dormansland keeper flicked off the bails casually. Captain and Palmers’ pin up boy, Will Dawes, set about business with his usual sense of gusto and top edged the Dormansland geriatric seamer for the maximum over the shortest boundary. Palmers entered the pavilion for tea confident that at 223-5 they had posted a match winning score. This was largely thanks to a knock of 87* from Ferrier, who mixed the beautiful and belligerent.

Tea passed without incident and a Palmers side who were in for the kill took the field. The young Tom Bollard, wily beyond his years, bowled the first over, and continued to bowl a tidy and economic spell without reward. Jim McLarnon bowled his trademark nagging length and picked up a deserved wicket. This could have been more had Will Dawes, with hands greased in factor 30 and half an eye on Tom Scotcher’s sister, dropped a goober at mid-off. It was unfortunate to see Jim leave the field due to a dodgy back, but he would later the field in some sort of opiate induced state of catatonia. Ben Cull bowled with his usual sense of giddy abandon, and it was almost uncomfortable to watch a batsman without a clue face a bowler with such cunning. The wickets would continue to fall like Romeo fell in love with Juliet. Will Dawes bowled well with flight and guile and Potter sent the ball hopping about. Gavin Beatty fielded with vigour and energy, in his usual guise of some sort of rambling musketeer. Tom Bollard would pick up a well deserved wicket in a fiery second spell and James Dawes was unfortunate to bowl without reward.  Three quick wickets from Scotcher had Dormansland eight down. As the sun slowly kissed the last Sunday of May goodbye behind the rolling green fields of Surrey, Palmers had men coiled around the bat, like vipers waiting for their chance to pounce. Tensions were bubbling in the Dormansland cauldron. Despite all the efforts, exertions and expletives the final wickets were a bridge too far on a weekend of drama, dreams and despair.

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