Glam and England. Women.

May 16, 2026May 17, 2026 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

It was crazy-stupid of me to omit any mention here of the magnificent contribution that Suzie Bates has made to cricket – not just in or for New Zealand. She’s been a giant. I hope she’s loved every minute of her epic journey from the days when apparently nobody cared, to the professional and significantly higher-profiled present. To be honest, I’m not clear exactly what her retirement plans are. I hope she is and that she does stuff that makes her really happy, in the future. Thankyou for being a leader, a trailblazer and a top, top player.

Up early to molest some scrambled eggs on toast, pre- a longish day. Suitably empowered, into the Polo to hoof (I mean drive extremely carefully and responsibly) to Glam. With rain almost certainly snapping at my heels – or the Polo’s, because it does have specially-fitted heels. The A40 is clear. The M4 is pretty clear. I get to Glam before 9.30.

There is no rain but you’d fancy a bowl. And then there is rain. At 10.16, in the Media Centre, it’s hard to tell… so I’m off for a quick meander. Could be a day for *promenading* and time-filling. Back soon. Oh – should probably note to the universe that covers are on and there is that thing ‘the threat of rain’.

Breaking: my perambulation confirms two things. Firstly that TWO of my good mates are working on the ground-staff today – good luck Minky and Ben! – and secondly we have a pitch inspection at 11.15am. At 10.56, with no precipitation for about 40 minutes, we have a chance. (But there is ‘rain about’).

There are people here, bless ’em. I hope to god (for them and for Glam) that we can get a meaningful lump of play. Masses of work goes in to making these days possible.

OK. We have a start time of 12 noon. And we have been dry for an hour so a start is likely. Toss any minute.

Both teams are out there, going through their heavily-managed drills. (As a coach, I find these interesting: I rob the ideas I like). In other news, lovely to see the brilliant and engaging host/pundit/commentator Lauren Salter, doing the on-field mike-work. (Genuinely think she’s excellent). Her old man is a good Pembrokeshire lad – formerly of St Ishmael’s CC. Lauren smashes it in English and in Welsh. Talking of smashing it, we *really should* have play in 15 minutes. I do note however that the ground-staff have pointedly kept the hover-cover close to the strip…

11.51. It may have brightened, a tad. (*Fatal*). As always, I’ve tried to get as close as possible to a viewing-point – a seat, obvs, in the aforementioned Media Centre – straight down the strip. Not quite possible, today, but short of sitting in the scorer’s box, it’s as good as.

New Zealand have won the toss and opted to bowl. The England team open-up with Lamb; Grewcock; Knight; Capsey. Final dragging-of-the-rope and we should be off: it’s cloudy but ver-ry playable as we stand: 11.57am. (The rope-draggers are loving it; racing around the outfield like mad bumper-car drivers). Here we go. Great conditions to bowl seam in, you would think. Big challenge for Lamb and Grewcock. Kerr – who swings it – will bowl.

There is inswing; Lamb is watchful. Kerr is boldly full – quite rightly. First runs come through extra. Grewcock – a leftie – must see-out the over. She is beaten but not fatally.

Bree Illing (also a leftie) will bowl from the river. She rather plops it there, and Lamb eases it for four, through cover. Then Lamb edges and is caught. She’s either hugely disappointed or doesn’t think she’s hit it. Slinks off slowly. 7 for 1, England, as Knight joins Grewcock. I can’t see a tellybox but that could well have been a great ball, from Illing, who is bowling with some pace…. but not always with control. Two wides in the over. 9 for 1 off 2.

Kerr gets a look at Grewcock. The England newbie is troubled, but does eventually get one away. Help here, very much as expected, for the bowlers. 11 for 1 off 3.

Illing again a bit loose – Knight crashes her past point. Then another legside wide. New Zealand can’t afford to waste these conditions; the day is likely to be reduced. Kerr though, is in rhythm: has two fielders out behind square. Good test this, for Knight. She’s passing it, currently: plays late to cut through cover for four. 21 for 1 off 5.

Grewcock looks less comfortable than Knight, but Illing is offering mixed fayre. She does draw a thick edge but it flies safe, to third man. Then the England bat looks better and more confident, against Kerr. She may be settling. (*Fatal*).

Her partner strikes another boundary. There is that feeling that the batters may be getting acclimatised. (On *that*, we still have plenty cloud, but the scene is… encouraging). Illing slaps in two bouncers: dealt with. Make that three bouncers – or notably short deliveries. First change: Mair for Kerr, J. Right-arm, quickish.

An appeal, for a caught behind. Went legside. No review. Been saying it for years, but Knight is a very fine player. She looks set – she often does. Meanwhile Grewcock latches onto a full one – four through point. That will help settle any remaining nerves. 39 for 1 off 9, England. Illing will continue.

At the end of that ten over powerplay, New Zealand may feel they have underachieved a little. They have beaten the bat but both Grewcock and Knight have begun to build. Hands are going through the ball nicely. And these are bowling conditions to die for.

I say this and Mair’s height (and bounce) count. Good length ball is maybe too good (or too lively) for Grewcock. Caught behind. She’s done o-kaaay but will be frustrated to get out now – *did look* more settled. But that’s a more-than-decent delivery. Jess Kerr has changed ends. 47 for 2, after 11. Capsey has joined Knight.

We have a little rain. It’s almost imperceptible… but brollies have gone up. Not an immediate threat but things could change rapidly. Conditions &/or a wet ball may have contributed to it, but Mair throws down a highish full-toss, which Capsey carts away powerfully. Next ball we have a review, for lbw, as the same batter plays and misses. She’s okay: okay and the skies look to have brightened. 56 for 2, off 13.

Kerr teases Knight outside off. Might have drawn a nick, twice. But when the seamer goes half-volley length, the former skipper cashes in, stunning very straight to the boundary.

Mair bounces Capsey too high. Sue Redfern rightly calls a wide, from square leg.

We’ve had more than an hour of play. New Zealand are drying the ball with a towel but we have a playable cricket event. Understandably, because of the wretched forecast we have a small crowd in to see it: but this is a decent contest. 66 for 2 after 15, with Kerr in and… ah – rain falling. It may have disturbed Knight’s concentration; the sharpness of it. We await a decision as to whether she is out. Knight knows: she’s nicked it. Gone for 28 off 40. A not inconsiderable return, given the conditions. We welcome Freya Kemp at 66 for 3.

Kemp is a left-hander, and what we used to call a natural. She can hit, but has yet to make her mark at international level. (If that’s toughish I still think it’s fair). Illing bowls quickly at her. The rain persists.

Tough to bowl leg-spin in this but we now have arguably the world’s best, from underneath us. Kerr A (or M, take your pick) – (A)melie Kerr. She gets through her over and we think we’re off for rain… but it’s drinks! (Hot drinks, I hope). But hang on… we *are off*. England are 77 for 3 off 17: and we’re off for rain.

Within about a minute, the skies brighten. Sport, eh?

14.21. Well-fed (thanks, Glam) and not yet fed up – why wouldya be? Medium-luxurious press box, with great view of the stadium. Nice vibe, generally. Foodie smells; drinkie smells; general bonhomie with optional-but-widespread kagool-wearing. Actually some sun but still both the occasional downward dribble, and the satellites zapping us with unwanted risk-percentages. So we wait. Comfortably, most of us, but we wait. (Had sight of one forecast: rain close but then *maaaay be* disappearing later, on the unhelpfully intermittent breeze. With this I check local flag supply; hanging limp).

Always expected a reduced game. Covers still on at 14.39, with a wee bitta drizzle. Always bit humbling to see fans digging in and hoping. (Sport, eh?) It may get worse here before it gets better but I hope folks are rewarded for sticking around – I certainly will.

In terms of the game, conditions have played such an obvious role it’s maybe unwise to make judgements about performance. Illing was lively but found it hard to maintain control. Grewcock scored slowly and got out just as she was reaching some level of comfort. But muggy and wet and coolish. Both coaches can and will ‘take note(s)’ but neither of them can view events here as typical or definitive. Accept that because we’re in (a sort of) extremis, here, we can learn stuff about character and durability and consistency, and this is or can be of import. But with the ball flashing or even splashing around, we need to give the players a bit of a break. Right. Another wee walk, I think.

Announcingment, as I meander. God-willing/in’sh’allah, we have a 3.55pm re-start. And the game is now 32 overs. (I’m sure I heard that fiugure: later it proves to be incorrect). All very good news, except maybe the 50-odd minutes gap between the announcement and the re-start. Think we’re entitled to be impatient because it could happen more quickly (IMO) and rain may be incoming. All of which of course the officials know. Understand they are responsible for people’s safety but (having been out there and really looked) I can’t see why the resumption couldn’t have been 20 minutes plus earlier. Because time may be important. Anyway, it’s quite bright now…

15.29. Most of the players out, re-warming. Conditions look good. Hover-cover still in place. Bumper-car race on again – Charlotte Edwards (*thinks*, was it CE?) just hadda bitta fun skipping over it. Capsey just running and stretching in her pads. Bell working towards full pace, on a practice strip. Notable away-swing. (More than slightly fascinated by Lauren Bell’s complete shift across to away-swing deliveries. Some of you will know she had some of the most dramatic in-swingingers in the game: binned. Because strategy and because bowling tweakage. Has worked remarkably well – she might get in a World XI, currently). Hey. We are ready to re-start!

Capsey and Kemp, then, for England; with Illing to bowl from the River End. Fifteen overs remaining in the innings. Single. Another leg-side wide and a mishit that flies over gully. Followed by an off-side wide. Mixed over – a sighter for all the protagonists. But England must attack pretty imminently. A Kerr, from Cathedral Road. Quietish. 86 for 3 off 19.

At the back of our/your/somebody’s minds may be the thought that any side could get bowled out very quickly in these conditions. Balance that (England?) with the need to score quickly from hereon in. Both Kemp and Capsey are free-flowing at their best. Neither, arguably, have been at their best in the national jersey; certainly not recently. Brilliant test for both of them.

Mair then Kerr, A. Batters remain circumspect. Running is good. 100 up: must get some boundaries. Really poor fielding error from Jess Kerr gifts Capsey one, off the incoming Patel. Nine off the over; 108 for 3, England, after 22.

The 50 partnership, dominated by Capsey, comes up in Patel’s second over. The bowler has bowled flattish slow-medium-pace, and gone at 8s. So better for England. Capsey goes into her 40s with another neat sweep, off Melie Kerr. Good knock, this.

Kemp has played relatively conservatively. She knows she needs to change that. A classical strike downtown might be the answer, but she has picked out Mair at straightish mid-on. Enter Gibson, and re-enter Mair, who will bowl to Capsey from the Taff End. The in batter will hate What Happens Next. A shortish, widish ball is asking to be clattered to leg. Capsey mishits tamely to extra cover. Maybe it stuck in the pitch… but it was a medium-‘orrible dismissal. She made 45. Change in momentum; or at least England have stalled. Patel changes ends at 127 for 5.

Gibson has had a mare, but a shortish one. Patel is all over her before bowling her. Poor, from the batter. Charlie Dean may have to come to the rescue again. Interestingly, Suzie Bates enters the fray, from the River End. Five overs remain. The bowler fails to execute a fairly straightforward run out; one which really might have put the home side into real bother. Almost no boundaries in living memory: suspect England may have to bowl the opposition out cheaply – which they may do. 134 for 6, off 28.

Jones is in and almost out, playing rather tamely, uppishly. I’ve said before that I have concerns about the England keeper’s mentality: good player but not always one for a crisis. She repeats the aerial drive but this time with commitment and no little style. The batters have to score at 7/8 or more an over now. The world’s most irritating flock of pigeons has joined us.

150 up in the 31st, with Kerr A bowling in brightish sunshine but with fairly benign cloud knocking about. Jones beautifully smoothes the bowler out over extra for four. Mair will bowl the last.

Foolishly she goes a tad short and a tad wide. Everyone – including Jones – cuts that one for four. Dean follows that with a cheeky fiddle-scoop-thing past fine, fine leg.

Ah. I thought we were reduced to 32 overs. Somehow I am misinformed. Jess Kerr is in to bowl and I’m wondering how long we go for…

Quite like the frisson around that so leaving my error in there. Meanwhile Jones, whom I obviously traduced, has been caught for a promptish and well-executed 30-odd. With that, Ecclestone has biffed Kerr powerfully through extra to *complete proceedings*.

Some in the Media Centre are contradicting the scoreboard here, which has shown the universe a total of 181 for 7. Maybe it would be more fun to leave that unclear, for an over or thirty?

In other news, I’m glad to report that game I felt very guilty about swerving, for my home club, was abandoned, back in Pembs, about half an hour ago. Making me feel marginally less like a traitor. (Back next week, lads!)

THE REPLY.

Inevitably, Lauren Bell will open up for England, with the legend that is Suzie Bates to face. Away-swinger; no dramas. The scoreboard has posted a target of 184, by the way, contradicting the previous information. (No dramas). We may have more breeze but these are the best conditions we’ve seen all day. Bell beats Bates three times in the over but concedes a boundary. I repeat: we are watching cricket in the sunshine!

Filer likes a flop – a la Mark Wood – and she gets one in, early. But then looks quick – possibly too quick for Plimmer? Maybe not. The batter steadies herself and bangs one through midwicket for four. 12 for 0 after 2, New Zealand. There is pace on the ball, here, with both bowlers racing in. Any connection and the ball will fly. Or if they stray (like Bell just did, twice) we may see leg-side wides piling up. New Zealand are off to a flyer without hardly connecting.

Knight shells a toughish chance, off Bell. Great ball, deserved better. But immediately the bowler has her wicket – and it’s Bates, lbw. Her captain, Kerr A/M, marches in. Filer is bowling swiftly… but mixing it up a bit. (Slower, possibly inswinging yorker). Ach. She goes too straight and too full. Clipped for four. At 27 for 1 off 4, the visitors are well up on the run-rate.

But Bell responds. Has Kerr lbw. Big wicket. Little surprised the batter doesn’t review for height – looked very straight but that is a moment, you would think. Bell is bouncing in: Green can only fend her towards gully but it drops safe. These are model conditions for fast bowling and you can feel England’s openers enjoying them. They will be expecting to take wickets, possibly in gert big clumps.

Oof. Big grey clouds to my left. Threatening clouds. Rain clouds. Everyone’s suddenly thinking DLS…

A brief shower which has relented, for now. But things do look a bit different. Wickets required pronto. Bell obliges again. Goes very full and traps Plimmer for 7. (I honestly did wonder if England would blast through this order and it’s beginning to feel that way). Halliday is in (and she can bat) but how much do NZ have, beyond that? They are 40 for 3 and significantly down on DLS, because of those wickets. Plus I fancy both Ecclestone and Dean may be a challenge today.

Looking at replays. Bell, in particular has bowled some beauties. But now it’s Eccles-time, from Cathedral Road. Skies look less leaden than ten minutes ago but you wouldn’t rule our further interference. Ecclestone, as so often, is right on it. With that she bowls a loose one: couple to fine leg.

Looks like Bell may bowl out, quite rightly – she doesn’t in fact. But Green blocks one hard, straight back at her, which she nearly stops with her chin. (Fortunately, hands do get there first). She can continue. This is a brilliant spell. The heavens have brightened and opened in approval. Green, however does get a short one to the boundary: 49 for 3, off 9. Bell has bowled consistently over 70mph in that over.

Ecclestone will be eager and expectant, too. At the close of the powerplay, New Zealand are 15 runs down on DLS. Enter Dean. Quiet over.

Interestingly, when Eccles returns, the batters deal with her reasonably well. They even have the audacity to clump her for a boundary. But the visitors have work to do: still 10 runs down on DLS. So what? Green is advancing, biffing Dean through mid-off and going to 29 off 34. So this is not over. 69 for 3 off 13.

Ecclestone also goes for four. The kiwis are battling. A further boundary. This could be important – could be more rain to my left.

Fair play to the batters for reading this early and being really proactive. Twenty minutes ago this seemed almost done. Not now. 13 have just come off Ecclestone’s over. The DLS equation has notably tightened. England need a wicket. Their genuinely brilliant left-arm spinner doesn’t look like providing. Lots of responsibility on Gibson, who now joins us from Cathedral Road. She cannot be expensive.

We fear rain may be incoming. And *we think* the visitors have gone ahead on DLS. (Think, because we’re hearing different numbers, here). This is tense in a good way – the way competitive internationals should be. Green and Halliday, under the cosh then in difficult conditions, have battled admirably. Bell will have felt she’s bowled well enough to win this: but it’s on the edge. We have drinks, with *all that stuff going on*, and New Zealand on 94 for 3. Dean, the England skipper, will be juggling the need for wickets – Filer? – with the need for economy. We go again with Gibson.

She clean-bowls Green, with a peach of an off-cutter. Huge, in the game. NZ reach 100 in the 18th over, which closes at 100 for 4. It’s Filer time.

She runs in from the River End and starts with two goodish balls… which go for minor runs. Then she lets Gaze free her arms and crash her to the point boundary. (This was the danger – inconsistency). A fielding error ( not Filer’s) next ball doesn’t help. No wicket and Filer has again gone for 8 in the over. Tense. The ball is wet. The sky is doing that leaden mist-thing. Locals think if we go off now (or soonish) we may not be coming back. New Zealand are ahead.

The batters do not appear to be intimidated by Filer’s pace and bounce. (And she’s going short and hard into the pitch). Lights are on and they need to be. Bouchier is on as sub (for Bell, I think) and Gibson is bowling a wide. And then another – damp ball, plus left-right batting combo, plus pressure all in play. England need a wicket. The bowler goes wide and over-full: four, behind.

Dean, from the Taff. Needs to make something happen. Light at issue, now. The White Ferns are managing this better than some of us imagined. (Conditions are now pret-ty challenging for all involved… but not sure I’d want to be batting in this).

We go back to Ecclestone, who was underwhelming in her first spell. She’s towelling the ball. Quietish over.

Bell can return from the Taff End. Comes around to the leftie Halliday. Will be giving Kemp the eye for not stopping the boundary – not easy but probably stoppable. If the scoreboard is accurate (and of course it may well be) New Zealand win this by about 15 runs. We await confirmation… but the hover-cover is ON… because that rain has arrived. This looks to be done.

The visitors stand on 141 for 4 after 24.4 overs. We expect no more. ALL the covers are coming on quickly. People are leaving before any Scores on the Doors appear. (Soon the six-wicket victory is confirmed). The White Ferns backroom staff have stood and cheered as the batters hastily retreated. They think they’ve got a great win – an away win. A win ground-out by their middle-order.

I thought Bell might skittle them on her own. In the end, England had no-one to back the attack leader up. Filer was yet again, frustratingly, less influential and less consistent than Dean and co needed her to be. Ecclestone looked human. But hey, on a day that was a challenge in so-o many ways, New Zealand have dug in and won it. Congratulations to them all.

I’ve written enough; I’ve seen enough. Thankyou for your company and support: I’m headed East (strangely) to play cricket for the Ancients of Wales. Weather permitting. Will iron-out the inevitable typos and errors when I get to Bristol.

Coaching engagements.

April 27, 2026April 27, 2026 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

I’m not normally disposed to equivocation or blandness, I hope. But loyalty towards The Mob – and even towards people or policies that (ahem) challenge or trouble me – will mean that the following lacks the kind of candour that I might unleash in a year or two’s time, when I dip out of this coaching malarkey. For now, I still love it and mightily respect colleagues on the pathways that I have been working on. Anyhow: hope these generalities aren’t toooo lame…

Top Man asked recently how many years I’ve been active on coaching pathway(s) in my neck of the woods. Honestly don’t know. And the memory fails and the urge to go digging for ancient manuscripts – well, maybe pics from Aberystwyth – is weakish, to be honest. Fifteen years or more, I would think, as a paid employee ‘in cricket’. Been bloody marvellous.

Think I’m hoping to slap down a few thoughts on what coaching has or might or can look like: feel free to engage in rapturous approval or shoot me down as just a junior coach.

Understand this sharing implies a certain level of arrogance, underpinned as it is with the idea that I’m somehow worth listening to, or *have ideas*. But know what? I think I probably do… and will counter and deflect that arrogance thang by saying that much of what I feel I know (and want to ‘pass on’) is notions, confidences, practice(s) built by watching better people, better coaches. I am clear that I have been working alongside (or assisting, or being assisted) by brilliant people.

So what do they do? They hold the attention of players. They sometimes demonstrate… and they do it well – impressively, even. (Yup; I know. We’ll come back to this). They both drive sessions along – planning and scheduling – and absolutely allow and respond for reading the room; feeling-out what’s appropriate, changing tack, given the energy or level of understanding of the players. They are wonderfully disparate characters – of course they are! – some bit schoolmasterly, some almost tough and it’s hard to reduce their multifarious, individual approaches to commonalities – to ‘good practice’. But we better try.

Coaching is a fabulously rich job, whether paid or volunteer. (Done masses of both). I know coaches who have presence, or who can genuinely capture or even inspire by something more than their capacity to communicate. They go right past direct or directed meanings. They have an aura and the players buy in: they want to follow, never mind process learning. These kinds of coaches aren’t necessarily the best but the power of their personalities can be compelling and rich and often engaging in a deep, natural and human kindofaway. (Apols if that lumps all kinds of contentious categories into a dodgy and abstracted bundle but I’m hoping you know what I mean?) They tend to be ‘colourful’ and ‘individual’ and ‘responsive’ because they are all of those things: they are perceptive, sensitive, original people who happen to have skills in sport. And communication. And diplomacy. And performance – of both, or multiple types.

For the coaching to really work, players have to listen and they have to get better, yes? (Or no? There’s a thesis and an argument that outputs aren’t at all the essential work or the essence of coaching but plainly pathways are inevitably judged at least in part on where the players finish up). As always, things depend. What age-group are we talking? What standard? I am happy to report that I have done most of my work at the entry level to this marvellous meat-market – under 10s and 11s, typically. I try like hell to improve players but more than anything I think, I am trying to make these wee earthlings fall in love with a game: a game that they might well play into their 60s. But back to measurements.

Coaches with ‘something about them’ may be in a better position to galvanise players than quieter, more cerebral types. (But not necessarily). The Aura Guys (and Gals – or however they identify!) may have a kind of Route A towards happy, entertained learners – learners who *do* fall in love with the game (or the sessions)… and maybe they come to idolise the coach – something we have to be pretty careful about.

Aura Guys (& gals, etc) may be susceptible to ego, to showboating, to laziness, perhaps, around necessary disciplines in the game and in their own preparation. They may be so interested in playing to their gallery that they forget to coach. Having said that, my experience is that *mostly*, what I’m going to call humour (in sessions, in matches) can be key. Humour meaning temperature; meaning flavour; meaning wit. Positive, rich, confident and often downright enjoyable team humour can start with a coach who brings upful energy as much as (s)he brings knowledge.

But what about the majority of us, who ‘lack’ charisma? Well our sessions need to be compelling in a different way. It is necessary that they are. The capture must come from out of the black and white stuff: good thinking; good planning; challenges that work on the skills in a way that feels productive and supportive. It’s absolutely possible to host brilliant sessions without being an extrovert… but my experience suggests that (maaaybee with young players in particular?) it’s a tough gig without bringing high energy activity. (So get players racing, or buzzing, or giggling as they fly into or through the drills). Enjoyment is such a big part of achievement – is so closely related to it so often.

‘Low-key’ coaching makes sense in a zillion ways – not least because it fits with the whole player-centred cowabunga – of which we all solidly approve. This should not be about the ego of the host, but the needs and capacities of the recipients. However, the vibe, the energy needs to be bright, and somehow liberating.

Somewhere at the start of this thing we mentioned demonstrations. I have mixed feelings about coaches doing demo’s, having experienced the pluses and minuses. Plainly – and we might say historically – this can feed straight into the idea of a coach being some experienced and therefore entitled demagogue. Probably driving performatively, in the vee, with head remarkably and mesmerically still. This can of course be anachronistic cobblers, much more about the needs of middle-aged blokes than the needs of players… and I have no issue with anybody calling it out as such. But it can also be instructive, if handled well. For one thing, some players *really are* visual learners. So even if Middle-aged Geezer Posing with Bat is overly full of himself, it may be that the movements may be registering in a way that supports development.

A contemporary view of this could be that like issuing penalties for dropped catches/bad listening/repeat ‘failures’ it shouldn’t be happening, because there are better options available – like offering guiding principles, not absolutes or methods. In situations like this – i.e where demonstrations might once have been Option A – I often tell players that coaching has changed on this, and that maybe they should try to find a way towards the particular objective. A way that might work repeatedly, consistently. And offer shapes or advisories or further questions if we aren’t getting to where we want to be – or towards where we want to be? I’m increasingly using words like awareness and even the phrase ‘trying to be conscious (of our movements’) as well repeating my fave mantra over many years, namely “how do we make this work?”

Coaching is about reading the room, being sensitive, encouraging, supporting. Having knowledge but being able to use that to offer good questions rather than lectures. Sure, be A Voice and maybe An Entertainer if that comes naturally to you. If it doesn’t you can still make it work. Think about it; be authentically you and allow (or make) the material of your sessions capture and engage your players.

To begin… at the ending.

March 26, 2026April 20, 2026 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Oof. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not out on pens. Not tonight.

Most of Wales was saving up the hwyl, or the Ultra-hwyl for next week – for The Big One. But no. Bosnia and Herzegovina did that stealth-bomb-victory thing; firstly creeping into the game, then nicking it, as two Welsh players – Johnson and Williams – had radar malfunctions over their spot-kicks.

Johnson had been anonymous all night, and this always makes me think that a player not on his game just shouldn’t take a penalty. Know many will either disagree, or say that top pro’s can switch that bad energy off and stroke the ball home, even in that prodigious moment. Not sure I agree. If I’m the gaffer I take charge and look deep into the eyes of my players. I take it out of their hands (or yaknow, feet). If they either seem tremulous or they’ve played like a donkey, they don’t take the pen.

Not that Johnson played *really poorly*: he was just mediocre. As was Dan James – who is mediocre – until that extraordinary moment where he latched on to a ball beyond the last man (as per his entire career) but then took it spookily and magnificently early and smashed it past the Bosnian keeper. As absolutely not per… but truly gloriously.

O-kaay, the keeper was leaden-footed, for sure, but again we might credit the forward for striking (as it were) on the up and, if we were cruelly-inclined, against the grain of pret-ty overwhelming evidence. It was a brilliant, brilliant goal, from a genuinely mediocre player, who despite what you heard from the painfully myopic commentary team, had been his usual wasteful, sloppy, kick-ball-flytastic self for most of the first period. (But hey – ain’t life wonderful?)

The visitors had predictably adopted the ‘take no prisoners’ approach. Equally as predictably, James and Wilson were both guilty of exaggerating contacts – something the referee seemed notably unimpressed by.

The fella’s probably been reading my socials. Unpopular opinion number eight zillion: the ref had a largely decent game, and seemed to read those two players particularly well. Meaning his homework has probably included watching a good deal of the Prem or Championship over recent years. The crowd, of course, mostly bayed their disapproval at his appalling bias.

Wales started well, without creating. Ampadu and Wilson looked like players but Bellamy’s side again lacked bite or brilliance in and around the box… until James’s stunning intervention. Later, when the game began to drift from them, Harris, Cullen and Thomas came on to provide legs/energy/threat. Only the latter succeeded. Cullen committed one particularly bad foul then jogged around avoiding the game. (I think he has done that a little, for Wales). Harris had only a couple of meaningful interjections. Thomas, playing wide right then cutting-in to curl crosses or slide passes to the edge of the box, did well – was probably the home team’s best player in the last forty minutes – but there was no fox-in-the-box or thrillingly out-of-the-blue James-like cannon from outside of it. It had ‘one goal is not enough’ written all over it.

Bosnia were set to contain for as long as… and could do that. On the basis that one goal conceded left them well in the contest. Rivetingly, their number ten gave one of the worst or weakest exhibitions of forward play you are ever likely to see: he could have won the damn thing, before overtime, but fell into almost comical (but obviously tragic) serial-fluffing. (Later he was gifted their first penalty, which of course he missed). But they were in the game – from about the hour mark, they were in the game.

Dzeko, almost criminally, given who he is/what he does, squeezed in a header to equalise and then it was pens. No real argument. In the way of these things – in tournament football, I mean – Bosnia had opened out just a little and looked at least as likely to score as Wales did, as the match huffed and hustled to its cruel-joyful destiny.

There had to be a denouement and there was. But let’s deep-dive into sacrilege before we face-plant into it. Take the characteristically tremendous crowd out of this (as if you could, or would!) and maybe the event would’ve seemed kinda tepid, despite the exfoliating drama? In the sense that the fayre was mid-quality, at best. (We should mention in passing here that the visiting fans were a blast, right?) but the wider, erm sandblasting truth might be that Wales have two really good players – Wilson and Ampadu – and Bosnia had one – the superannuated Dzeko – and he was substituted, knackered, for extra-time.

Wales thought they would be roaring to glory or doom against the might of Italia. They’re not: they’re out.

Universe Podcast revisited: United City.

January 17, 2026January 17, 2026 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

On a whim – whilst out walking, acksherly – decided to throw out a podcast. Some will know I’ve done this occasionally, over many years. Have been known to confess that I never listen to podcasts myself… but aware others do, so hope this may be of interest.

Foolishly but characteristically decided to allow myself no notes or prep… then talk United City. So have and it’s here. 20-odd minutes. By all means bawl from the sidelines.

Pic is from The Guardian.

On Carrick (& Woodgate): delighted that (dare we say it?) cultured former players got off to a flyer, here. And that United looked a whole lot more like an MU side should look.

On Dorgu: think the fella’s pretty mediocre – or has been – but he had a great day, today.

On Mainoo: has to play – had to play under Amorim.

On Amorim: badly let down by the players be he didn’t & couldn’t *effect change*.

On Pep: a kind of #coachingfascist?

Have a listen and feel free to come over all opinionated.

Amorim.

January 5, 2026January 5, 2026 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

‘Emotional’ in what turns out to have been a critical meet with Jason Wilcox. Possibly intransigent re- the structure and playing style of his side. Bit lost, too often, in the dugout – looking rather concerningly downbeat; exhibiting poor or poorly-disguised body language.

These are markers in the demise, or strands in the argument against him. But surely the paucity of the *actual playing*, together with the worst-ever stats around results-over-time are the clinchers? Real football people understand that teams can play well without getting results but fans, both home and away would probably say United have been dogshit for an age. (Since before Amorim, to be fair).

Levels of performance, as a team, as individuals, have been shockingly, almost fascinatingly low. The widely-disliked Fernandes, whose own form has been patchy, has been arguably the only red that high-achieving sides might remotely covet. Who else is a genuine, nailed-on, up-to-standard United player? (Accept that Cunha might get there: but ordinary – or mixed – of late. Weirdly perhaps, Martinez has that combination of flinty resilience and composure, when on his game, that has marked-out United defenders – or any other top-level defenders – over the years’ But who else?)

It’s a profoundly mediocre squad. Shockingly so, given the heft and resources of the club. There’s that general sense that United have had a majority of players regularly active in the first team who should be nowhere near a Manchester United side. Personal issues or vendettas aside, the situation was never sustainable.

I’ve had more sympathy than many, for Ar Ruben. Likeable. Plainly honest. With a rare dash of humility. Obsessive, for sure and probably too inflexible over his system(s).

He will have arrived knowing United were poor, but surely believing he could coach even ordinary players towards that cohesiveness and dynamism so intrinsic to his playing style. He would have thought that Mainoo, Rashford and the rest would follow him and commit. We may never know how those two potentially key players drifted so disastrously and early from the cause but the gaffer has to take some responsibility for not gaining their trust, re-claiming them for the club. Even if their egos or insecurities were instrumental towards their exclusion or exit.

The word manager has become central to the regime-change. Amorim was strident, in his last presser, about how he was recruited under that term. (He did not elaborate, but was evidently suggesting the distinction between Proper Gafferhood and the role of the coach). I suspect he has been wronged on this – undermined and re-imagined by the United hierarchy in a role with less power, in short. He thought he would be the man to buy and sell – or at least decide about buying and selling – as well as select, day-to-day. He thought he was going to be supported, even, in that wider re-mit. No. He was going to be watched-over, then over-ruled by Presiding Individuals. This is why the ‘Head Coach’ got angry; felt betrayed.

I said when Amorim joined the club that he was probably better than they deserved. This still may be true – particularly in the sense of him being a richly capable and honourable man. United have been dogshit for an age. The hierarchy (whom of course we know very little about) may still be stinking the place out.

Ironically and maybe inevitably, there have been a few signs that football may at some stage have broken out, should RA have seen out the season. Ill-timed injuries – ha! When are they not? – have broken the flow that might have resulted from an attacking midfield containing Fernandes, Cunha and a rejuvenating Mount. Young defenders have threatened to look the part, on times, almost obscuring the possibility that a back three containing a fit Martinez, De Ligt and Maguire *might* be competitive, possibly to a high level, in a division where a Manchester United side that patently ‘can’t defend’ stand sixth. A certain energy was flickering, in possession of the ball.

But any bunch of clowns could score against them… and mostly, they did. So any flickers of optimism were soon doused. Mediocre players were failing to do their jobs… but so too was Amorim. Not scary enough to demand improvement and get it. Not convincing enough to free up creativity and flow. Not inspiring enough to be really followed, culture-wise. So ultimately responsible.

Image from BBC Sport.

Town.

November 28, 2025November 28, 2025 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Fan-dom. Funny old game, eh? Maybe particularly when you’re a part-timer (like me), living 340 miles from the object of your viceral-tribal lurv-thing, or whatever it is.

Town. Grew up there and went to virtually every home game, aged 10-15. Then plenty more aged 15-22. Then on special occasions; ‘home visits’.

Been in Wales, see, for forty years or more. (And what a glorious privilege it’s been). So family life – my own, kids etc – got in the way of journeys Up North and back in time. But been doing more, largely due to our mum’s illness, and it’s all tugging a bit.

With every visit the realisations multiply, somehow. Unconscious or inexplicable truths around the magnitude of early life, early mates. Might not be the case for everybody but clear to me now that those mates from Primary School were and are about as good and as key as you’re ever gonna get. Torn between eulogising them and moving on: the universe probably needs to hear about the fabulous ordinary guys who have carried me through life, and will probably carry me out of it, unsung. But too intrusive of their quietness to go naming it. Too invasive of their unshowy, implacably honest ground.

All this feeds in to football. Those individuals; our tribe. I walk the genuinely grim or grimy streets around Blundell Park, on *that mission*: to go support the lads. (Yes they do finally have a women’s team but I’m too late and too far away to participate in that welcome ‘innovation’). The lads, who used to be Stuart Brace and Matt Tees before Terry Donovan and Mike Brolly became the boys Vernam, Rose and Warren. Six times I’ve walked in there, in the last year, through but with the other daft buggers in their Town clobber. Dads. Grandads. Mums. Daughters. All kinda sounding the same. All wanting the same and feeling some kind of connection: to this Town; to this place.

Football. I hate loads about it – the cheating, the money, the ‘Authorities’ near and far. The 21st century moral black hole of it. But walking briskly in, as you do, to Grimsby Town FC, at Blundell Park Cleethorpes is a wonderful, grounding pleasure. And it registers win lose or draw.

Last night I couldn’t be there. And/but they were on the tellybox. Tranmere. We’re 9th, they’re 16th in the table, or were. I’m watching from Pembrokeshire.

It looks a decent night – and the commentator says as much – before soon changing his tune. (You’re right up against the Humber/North Sea estuary multiplex, generally haunted by apocalyptic, cod-hurling ‘showers’. We soon got one). Important game for both sides; the brief interviews with the respective managers reinforced that view. Artell for GTFC thoughtful in that articulate, passive-aggressive way that he has.

Town have been dropping-off, results-wise, despite having a good coach and a solid, possibly even exceptional wider culture. Whether it’s a dip in confidence, or the presence of TV cameras, who knows, but Grimsby are poor in the first half. The squad has as many players who look good on the ball as the top handful of sides in the division but they fell into that awful lower-league hoofing-thing. Almost every contact with the ball was a ‘clearance’. It was Sunday League. Tranmere were better *and* they were winning every second ball. (So not only were Town failing to play to their footballing strengths, they were failing to compete). No complaints that Tranmere lead 1-0 at the break.

I’m a coach and slinger of wild opinions so let’s get into this. Warren, Turi, Vernam and Rose are good players at this level. And more broadly Artell has deliberately gathered a squad who can play patient, skilful (dare I say it?) intelligent football. Phases of passing. Good movement. Ball into feet. Rehearsed plays. I’ve watched them do it, often impressively. Last night they were without their best player, McEachran, who sits and passes and turns and makes the thing tick. But Turi – the guy tasked with filling the McEachran-shaped hole – can also play. Last night, for much of the game, Pym, the keeper and the likes of Warren (unusually and disappointingly) were clattering the ball over his head, bypassing the central midfield.

This is ok if it works. Last night, for 45 mins plus, it was bloody awful. Turi failed to show, or impose his will on the frankly amateurish chaos around him. Rose almost literally never got a touch, reinforcing the belief that he simply can’t play unless Town are threading balls in to feet. Vernam had an absolute ‘mare, from start to finish. Walker – who *does do* this – spent about an hour solely intent on drawing fouls. (For me, he was an embarrassment but he’s not alone at the club for ‘falling easily’: and yes I am happy to call out the coaching staff on this. Of course they are seeing #PremierLeagueLegends do this on a daily basis, but for me Artell and co should be discouraging it not using it as a strategic tool).

But on. To a second half where the Mariners found themselves and a good dollop of their game, equalising before probing for the winner that they may have deserved. As he often does, Artell made smart, timely substitutions and had obviously *had words|* about the lack of courage and composure in the first period. Burns, who for the first time in my limited experience looked a threat, scored a fine goal and would have notched a decisive second but for a remarkable save for Tranmere’s superannuated keeper. It was ‘all Town’ until, disastrously, the defence switched-off and allowed the visitors to *absolutely steal it* in the 96th minute. Horror show!

I had a brother and plenty mates there. They will have felt distraught at that cruel denouement but also at the capitulation in the first half. Town stopped doing it the Town Way. Good players stopped being brave enough to show and to pass to feet. It’s happened a zillion times, at a million clubs. But bloody tough to see that at your own.

Let’s party.

July 28, 2025July 28, 2025 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Remarkable in terms of the record and remarkable because of how it felt. Wiegman and England.

The manager (or is it coach?) *really must* have something extraordinary going on. We can only guess that it oozes out from that intellectual calm. And maybe that her huddles are truly and genuinely inspirational.

This is not to say that the woman from The Hague can’t plan, or juggle, or read the game. Surely only Emma Hayes is at Wiegman level in terms of strategy and tactical awarenesses? But where Hayes has a physical presence, Ar Sarina has that quaker-like calm.

She’s needed it. Because (here’s where it gets weird) not only is there an argument that her team repeatedly scraped through this thing but also that very few of them played anywhere near their capacity. Might sound ungenerous or even churlish but that rarest of things the Dispassionate View might see things thataway. Look; if it could be remotely possible to judge (and by this I mean set aside the excitement and the drama and *really judge*) then who gets an 8/10, say, over the tournament?

Before you people freak out at the essential negativity here let me offer a friendly biff around the bonce. I get this… and I get that – duh – if Ingerland really underperformed, then clearly they can get to a frightening level. One where we really might dispassionately talk of dynasties. They won here – wow! Let’s party! – without generating phases of play; without relentlessly closing down; without being all that good. It was a remarkable case (to use a Proper English phrase) of muddling through.

Hampton. Hampton was consistently good. The farces around penalties foisted her into another space, where palpitations and ardent, myopic tribalism inevitably cast her as hero and legend. She made some goodish penalty saves… but most of us would have saved them. No matter: for her general, allround goalkeeping play, she gets an 8. Excellent temperament. Strikes the ball well and often beautifully. HH – who let’s remember turned the issue of the Earps-void or Earps-omission into a non-issue – is now unarguably in the top two or three keepers on the planet. She played to her level consistently. I’m not sure anyone else did.

Walsh is often quiet – it’s just the way she plays – but she was relatively uninfluential. Stanway was mixed. Williamson has sublime composure and head-up passing quality but apart from an accomplished display in the final, the captain was decent rather than exceptional. Toone was in and out, bits and pieces, as she has been for eighteen months. Mead likewise. Hemp had a strongish final but was disappointing through the tournament. Carter looked what she is: honest, strong but limited. Greenwood played below her best – her best being ver-ry good, both in defence and going forward. Less arrowed passes, less brilliant dead balls.

James and Bronze have both been crocked. Bronze still managed to be a key figure, despite being vulnerable last night. Her courage may hoist her rating above 7; I’ll leave that to you. James, apart from that thrilling early goal, was nowhere near her beguiling best – but crocked.

I’m a huge fan of Russo, who (as previously noted) may have the best engine in world football. Outside the box she’s fabulous. Can hold and turn and run like hell. Her energy and sheer willingness are sensational. She got a good solid header in to equalise Spain’s lovely (but poorly-defended) opener but *did miss* opportunities in the earlier rounds and is not, in my view a great finisher generally. Wiegman may, however, put Russo’s name down on the team-mate before anybody else’s and I would have no argument. She has class… and she has that engine.

I too must dash. Let the other scribes do the ‘definitive’ stories and the marks out of ten. I’ve a mum with dementia in front of me and no time to unscramble the scramble.

England won two on the bounce – incredible. Penalties again, entirely credibly but also veering towards another mess. But no. Charles and somebody else and then Kelly stood up. The latter loves the theatre of this and embodies it. A mischievous prance at the ball and this time a fluent, fabulous connection. Job done and let’s party.

Wins just happening.

July 18, 2025July 18, 2025 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

It’s dangerous but it feels important and maybe even right to stick down a few things about the Lionesses. Knowing they will be judged – not by many, of course, but judged. These things are true for me. Let’s get the vilest or most contentious one out the way first-up.

The penalty fluff-out means we can’t go calling these women #warriors*. It was an international embarrassment and it was bad for the women’s game.

(*OK. Qualification numero uno. You could probably describe Bronze’s performance as heroic, and therefore warrior-like. She brought everything. I might argue that the only other England player to play up to their level – and therefore express courage in a different sense – was Kelly, who came on and performed).

We can’t describe Hampton’s performance as unequivocally heroic, because she was mediocre during the second half, and wasteful with those strangely over-pumped hoofs up the park – twenty five yards beyond her attack. (Probably adrenaline or stress but weirdly in-keeping with the general level of mis-execution). Yes she may be the best keeper in the tournament for her driven passes and general work, and yes she went into the shootout with three hundredweight of cotton wool up her nozzer, but how many penalties did she actually *have to save?*) Let her enjoy her moment, absolutely, but this was a win conjured by abstracted qualities, barely (if at all?) expressed.

Blimey. What does that even mean?

It means England have quality – they have the second or third best squad in the tournament – and this can out in extraordinary, fascinating, infuriating or cruelly redemptive ways. Russo can ‘earn’ you a win for her lionhearted and endless running, despite her repeatedly poor finishing. (Missed headers in the tournament, rather feebly missed shooting chances and a continuing and concerning lack of fox-in-the-boxness. But all that wonderful other stuff!). Greenwood can earn you a win for her rare steadiness and drilled crossfield passes. James can earn you a win, with her electrifying brilliance. Or maybe Sweden can just out-capitulate you in the lottery that is the shootout.

England can be truly lousy, defensively, from Carter’s workaday limitations to Williamson’s fabulous-but-flawed, non-physical, almost metaphysical reliance on wit and game-reading skills. They can be painfully easy to play through or around: Sweden did that, first half.

Esme Morgan, who replaced her injured skipper, is a profoundly good footballer but she is almost nailed-on to offer a howler, as she did late in extra-time, almost ‘fatally’. Walsh is a sort of elite water-carrier very much in the mould of the modern Academy Era: deeply proficient at rebounding passes and playing safe and short. But like those central defenders, you wouldn’t mind playing against her. There is something there that you can really open up.

But hang on. We should note to the universe that Ingerland did stir impressively to grab back a) a chance and then b) the initiative with firstly a great goal (made by Kelly and finished by Bronze) and the momentum-capping scramble ninety seconds later. Russo might even have won it before extra-time had she not failed to sort her feet again. However, England’s fresh legs looked like they might carry them through, as the 90 minutes expired.

Extra-time was almost all Sweden. The multiplicity of changes (and/or tiredness mental or physical, and/or possibly inadequate direction) saw Wiegman’s side look listless and open as overtime ticked away. Sweden, not the Lionesses, had heads up and energy re-primed. England had little of the ball, making almost no phases of play. (In fact England rarely do this – other than those sideways or backwards rebounds between central midfield or defenders. Walsh making 80 passes with almost none of them counting). Then we had those penalties.

I dislike pens but concede immediately and pitifully that we probably have to go there in the modern era. These were garbage: an embarrassment. The players and staff will know that and do that juggle where they both acknowledge and move on. But they should note that because of Mead’s anaemic performances over many months and James’s in-out temperament, they may need to be taking pen 12 and 13.

England have been fortunate again in the draw and I expect them to make the final. They should. They may go on and win it, dynamically and with style. They do have quality. But almost everywhere you look, they also have soft-spots. Players who get that glazed eyes thing or that rush of fear. Wiegman really must be exceptional at galvanising something but it’s hard to identify what it is. Because errors. Because despite the evidence of wins, she will know she has players who cannot execute really simple things, in the moment.

Be honest, despite this evidence of comebacks and ‘resolve’, which of them feels deeply and inviolably resolute? Or perhaps more exactly, which of them has you confident that they will deliver? Maybe Bronze and Greenwood. All of Toone, Mead, Hemp, Stanway and James do feel bit willowy*, do they not – or susceptible to pressure? (Is that* a cruel word to use? If so, apologise. Reaching for the truth of this. And I acknowledge that Stanway and Toone – arguably all of them – do have a certain kind of toughness. These things are complex).

So wow; we have quite a phenomenon here. The cool record shows England, who really do have top players, are also consistently defying this litany of perceived vulnerabilities. Meaning either I’m wrong with much of the above – entirely possible, of course – or that perhaps their wins, or any wins do *just happen?* And perhaps this is wonderful?

Bristol. Men of.

June 8, 2025June 8, 2025 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

So I yomp in there sunnily – because sun. It – Glos CC – feels familiar and kinda welcoming but mainly it feels on the sunny side of 16 degrees. (Refer to yesterday’s post). Bristol is feeling solidly and sustainably sunny. Just gone 1pm and Buttler and then Buttler and Bethell are bashing balls into the net spread perpendicular to our media centre: so I’m seeing them sideways on. Both practice hands through the ball and then either playing ver-ry late (in Bethell’s case) or pulling hard, high to low.

Then The Lads are doing their footie thing. Head tennis. Barcelona they ain’t. But it looks like fun. Skippers being interviewed so I may have missed the toss. Or maybe not. Currently we have visiting bowlers turning their arms over to my right… and just two or three England players fielding high catches and lashing throws. So looks like both sides are fielding and it’s three v three. Should be fun. The temporary stand ( I hope somebody kindof officially names it that) is two-thirds full and the remaining stands are compellingly a-buzz. We’re set.

Cloud has rolled in. Hearing Brooky had words *Upstairs*. England won the toss and will bowl. Wood (the leftie) is in instead of Potts. Scyld Berry has either got something contagious or he wants to get himself on the tellybox. Sitting solo out on the balcony. Might *actually join him* soonish… not that there’s any chance of a conversation. Flamethrowers galore and here we go.

Wood (the leftie) will start from beneath us, so running towards Ashley Down Road. Drama first-up as he pins the batter with a fabulous yorker. Finger promptly raised but within eight mili-seconds Lewis is reviewing. So probs hit it. The fourth umpire begs to differ: it was a great ball.

The next is not. Weirdly, it’s a horrible high full-toss – no-balled. Of course, the new batter is ‘caught’. Wood boldly going for yorkers. Saw him do this a year or two ago at Final’s Day; looked a threat then. Good over. 3 for 1, WIndies. Dawson.

Mostly flat and looking very quick but Hope nails the fourth delivery. Six over mid-wicket. Strongish breeze was pretty much at Wood’s back so Dawson into that.

Wood goes again. Movement in the stand behind him. (Not Scyld). Or is it something fixed… because this is taking a few minutes to sort? Unknowable, from where I’m sitting. (We have tv monitors but no audio). Mysterious and helping no-one. None the wiser but we continue. And Wood continues to beat the bat. Not the best angle to judge pace but he looks high eighties(?) Charles can’t lay the proverbial glove. High quality, into-the-block-hole stuff. 12 for 1 off 3.

Carse we know is also sharp but Hope goes bang: four, six, four. Some riposte. More instinctive hitting than bad bowling was my sense. Ground looking almost full, now. Dawson has switched ends. Bowls a wide. Then Charles rocks back and cuts confidently through cover: four. He does it twice in the over – so better, for the visitors.

BIG APPEAL, from both bowler and keeper. Brook jogs in, notably smiling. Review… but no edge, no glove. West Indies have recovered well: 40 for 1 off 5.

Carse again from Ashley Down; with energy. But Hope gets most of it – well, about two-thirds? – and the ball is gone, over wide mid-off, for six. Then straighter and probably cleaner-hit – same result. Carse answers with a bouncer that’s called wide. Hope has bolted to 39 off 22. Bethell.

The young fella does okay, staying short and flat; just 4 from the over. Rashid at the far end. Single to long-on. Fumble from Wood out at deep cover offers a second run, next ball. 7, in bits and pieces. 66 for 1 off 8.

Bethell returns and is The Nearly Man twice. Firstly deep-mid-wicket is almost in the game, then almost caught and bowled. But nope. Runs.

Lols. Only just noticed how rammed the balconies are, in the Ashley Down flats opposite. And the sky… the sky is greyer than earlier advertised. (Don’t think there’s weather in the picture, but it IS cloudy and grey).

Rashid bowled just the one over before being followed by Dawson. Not easy to switch ends twice in this breeze, I’m thinking. Sharp hands and throw from Brook have Charles diving. Oof – successfully. Reasonably non-explosive period in the game; which suits the hosts, of course. In the balance, you would think at 82 for 1 off 10.

Moment of the Day contender as Rashid draws Hope forward and Buttler expertly commissions the stumping. Turned. Decent knock from the opener but comprehensively beaten by the leggie, there. Then we have Jacks… and then Bethell. When Rutherford marginally miscues, going downtown, and Banton takes the steepling catch at the boundary, WIndies are 98 for 3 after 12.5. 100 up the next ball, meaning the run rate is 7 plus bits. Is that enough?

Rashid again from Ashley Down. Gets absolutely battered, straight, by Charles – cleanest strike of the day. Carse is a competitor and he does race in there. Now from underneath us in the media stand. May not have been at his best today. 0 for 34, his return so far – from 3 overs. The West Indies have to go at 12 an over for the last 5 to post a legitimately threatening total.

Charles tries to invent something – and does. A cruelly comical way to get our. Steps outside off and tweaks it round the corner, into his stumps. To make things worse, was on 47. Powell and Shepherd are now both newish to the crease. 121 for 4, off 16. Dawson continues the yoyoing but is pulled square. Then impressively dismissed downtown – both by Powell. Soft hands get him a further boundary to third man. It’s brightened a little, out there. Poor short wide one offers an easy cut to the offside boundary. Biggish heap of runs from that over: essential.

Carse finally gets a little luck. Slight miscue from Powell flies out towards Wood, on the rope. The quick bowler adjusts and dive-rolls, avoiding the toblerone, to take a testing catch. Powell had made 37 in good time. Better light floods the stadium: natural light. 149 for 5 as we go into the penultimate over with Rashid.

Oof. First ball GOES OUT OF THE GROUND. Second is less obscene (but six)… as is the third. So the Jolly Lean Giant (Holder) has gone to 19 off 4 balls. His partner Shepherd then bludgeons two more, making (I think) 25 from the over. We’ve heard a lot about power hitting from the WIndies batting line-up. That. Was. It. Wood – the poor sod? – must see this out.

Buttler skilfully runs out Shepherd and Chase bangs the last ball over long-off for another six. The West Indies have gotten to 196 for 6, which must surely give them a chance. The last half hour has been Exhibit A in the case for or against T20 as wild circus. Thrilling and mad. It could be the fairly stifling room we’re in but I’m kinda drained. So will get some air.

Duckett and Smith will open for England. Hosein will bowl slow left-arm, around. He comes over to Duckett, who sweeps and times to square leg. Four. Holder.

Smith hoists… and then poops his panties as the ball drops ever closer to mid-off, retreating. Gets away with it once… but not twice. Gone. Successive miscues. Enter Buttler to a roar. 16.49 and light is still goodish but the floodlights have been fired-up. Duckett cuts hard to Powell’s left; the fielder can’t hold it. Tough, but catchable. 11 for 1 after 2, England.

Duckett hammers a ridicu-reverse through point, for four. A second tough chance goes begging, as Duckett again reverses Hosein. Flew head-high to point, who got a hand there. Buttler drives Holder beautifully high and handsome over long-on, to announce himself. Class. Then a miscued flip over the shoulder goes streakily behind. (Six, four). 33 for 1, off 4.

Shepherd looks intimidatingly strong from up here but Duckett appears unimpressed. He strokes him nonchalantly through the covers then finishes the over with a pre-meditated scoop/cuff behind for the most absurd six of the day. Joseph responds with a couple of quick, angry deliveries at Buttler, who dodges those and snatches two further boundaries. Throwing his hands through a wide one, the batter is a tad fortunate not to be caught out at deep cover.

The madness goes on, Buttler turning to shovel Motie wrong-handed over third man, for six. 68 for 1 as Shepherd changes ends, to Ashley Down. He is more than a little unlucky to be called for a wide but then his bouncer is about three storeys above Duckett – so no complaints there. The diminutive one has tried hard all day to get himself caught out: Powell does the job, athletically, in the deep.

The captain is in. He will be keenly aware there’s a game on here and that his side must sustain a high run-rate. 122 needed from 72 balls as Hosein comes in again. Another reverse from Buttler bursts through. With Joseph lashing it at him, the same batter top edges somewhat, high, high above the mid-wicket boundary. It’s windy and it’s probably swirling but the rather cruel cheers tell you that the fielder should have caught it. (Two thousand blokes in the Temporary Stand are saying “I’d a nailed that!”) Drinks at 87 for 2.

Motie from in front of us. Quietish. Followed by Shepherd with a horrible wide. And a high full-toss gets blasted behind point for six by Brook – who has been relatively restrained, thus far. Next ball flies through extra. Then a further wide, so bit ragged. Charles is getting dog’s abuse at cow corner. He misfields, to a cidery chorus. 112 for 2, off 12, England. Hosein to bowl out his spell.

Last Laugh central. Charles easily snaffles Buttler, reversing straight at him. Regulation, but it might not have felt that way to the much-abused fielder. Lots of bantz out there as the WIndies player ambles back to his post. Enter Bethell, who strikes stylishly straight to finish the over. Four.

Our first look at Chase, today, from the Ashley Down Road End. Brook welcomes him in with six over extra. But risk-reward. Brook strikes out again and again Powell takes a fine catch – again rolling and falling. Banton can go quickly – he may have to. He does: six through square leg, first-up. Then two wides: so edgy. 15 from the over. Motie.

Banton reverses him expertly then batters him into the dugouts. England require 48 from 30 balls. Good, competitive game. Joseph fires one loosely down the leg-side. Bethel collects it in breathtaking style for six: before smashing him straightish for another maximum…and (I think) losing the ball. Probably, this wins the game.

Bethell’s double would be astonishing if it didn’t keep happening. It keeps happening: he cuts for six more before departing to a simple catch, whilst dinking cross-handed. Now Holder is in and going pace-off. Weirdly, the wind appears to have done a significant u-turn. He may now be bowling into it. Lots of field-changes. The keeper is running the length of the pitch, repeatedly during the over, to have words. But England should have this, now. They require 17 off 18 balls.

Joseph slings it a mile down leg – and high. Called a no-ball. The no-ball is a wide. This delivery is spooned out behind square… to the fielder who catches and then has to plop it down to prevent himself falling out of bounds. Good work, asitappens. Jacks is caught next ball. 188 for 6 as Carse joins Banton. A good ball is squeezed out square for one.

Joseph is a genuinely quick bowler but Banton just eases him out between midwicket and long-off. Four. Kinda quietly ridiculous. 2 needed from 12 balls as Holder comes in from underneath us. Carse swipes and misses the bouncer. Then leaves the next one. Flailing at a widish one, he edges through to the unprotected boundary behind slips.

That’s an impressive win, against determined opponents hoisting a significantly challenging total. Much to admire and like and be thrilled by. But also that question WTF are bowlers supposed to do, in this Modern Era?!? Some of the shot-making was extraordinary – or would have been, if it didn’t keep happening. That may make it both tremendous and concerning(?) Enjoyable and entertaining? Yes – of course!

TAUNTON.

June 7, 2025June 7, 2025 ~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Entirely possible we may start on time; with England winning the toss and unsurprisingly opting to bowl.

(Finish this sentence and it starts to rain… a little. So the ground crew spread the covers back out over the square. #Funnyoldgame. Or ARE THEY?!? No. They’re folding the major cover back… but the strip remains covered). This is difficult. Off for a swift wander.

We’re going; after bobbing and weaving. Cross storming in to Grimond. Wide. Then – after a strong and confident appeal – the ump finally raises the finger. The ball left the batter off a good length – too good. 1 for 1. Cross is a fine athlete. Always enjoy watching her bowl. She’s powerful and rhythmic and can bowl proper spells. Rate her – always have.

Arlott is shaping up well, early. (I mean in her England career, but also now). She beats James then bowls her with a delicious, loopy slower ball. Quality but also an eek moment for the contest. WIndies are 2 for 2 after 2 overs. It’s fabulous bowling conditions but clearly the universe needs the visitors to resist. Joseph clips Cross away, off her hip: just the two.

Arlott again looking fit and high. A cutter. Could be striking outside – or no? Umpire Sue Redfern pulls the trigger confidently. Stafanie Taylor understandably reviews – she will know this is a Big Wicket – but she’s out, and the trauma goes on for the visitors. Three down, scarily early.

Beaumont, Bell and Smith have been rotated out, for England. Glenn, Arlott and Dean back in.

The batters may be settling. Joseph and Campbelle both get wood to ball. The latter cuts Arlott square twice to the boundary – widish balls. Slightly messy over, in truth, from the England seamer. 21 for 3 off 6, the WIndies. Lights are on, half the universe is checking various weather apps, but this is playable right now and we are glad to be playing, yes? A quiet period… which the game needs.

Arlott finds that radar. Four dot balls then a cutter from that high hand spooks Campbelle, who – fearing bounce – misreads it. She turns and allows it to hit her somewhere between the kidneys and the small of the back. To be brutal it’s not great batting, but eventually she can continue. As Cross runs in towards us, a light breeze is helping her away-swinger. *Thinks: I’d be unplayable in these conditions! (Cheesy grin emoji). Conditions are peak seam/swing/dart around the place.

Women’s cricket has been well supported down here for a decade or more. Today the crowd is smaller than it would be, were the game not likely to be rain-affected.

Filer is on and chewing the turf again. Repeatedly. Meaning it could be damp underfoot… but not necessarily. She falls over anyway. She concedes a couple of fours but almost draws an error: the pill flies tantalisingly past Dunkley.

Shortly afterwards, shower numero uno descends. It looks horrid. The West Indies are 43 for 3 off 12.3 overs at this point. I’m not looking at the weather apps. A) Don’t need to. B) I WANT THIS BAYBEE TO KEEP GOING. Mind you, given not just the complexities of the (blanket) British weather but the obvious local micro-climate scene – I’m seeing hope, I’m seeing light greyness – don’t go putting your hard-earned on anything, here. The slightly lighter-brighter skies could mean everything or nothing. Coffee.

12.27. After a smidge of encouragement, it’s a big NO from the meteorological gods – at least for now. Hard, blustery shower. Not terminal yet but unhelpful.

So let’s talk about nice things. Like Kate Cross.

The England star won’t relish being parked in the senior seamer bracket much, I suspect, but Crossy brings so much good energy, skill, pace and top, top temperament to the gig that like many ‘seasoned pro’s’ she swats age towards irrelevance. Being dignified; being committed; being fit. She’s challenging younger players to shift her.

KC is running in harder and more fluently than almost anyone – so her pace is goodish. She brings more control than most. Cross may also be one of those people who contributes real lurv-power to the England group. Meaning (however corny it sounds) that she really may be a worldie of a human; spreading heartiness and supportiveness and mate-iness and positivity around the squad. And yes for me this does matter. Or can.

12.47. Right now it feels like more cricket is likely. *Depending*. 12.54, bit more drizzle. 12.57, bit more concerning.

They feed us; one of many privileges afforded to us meedyapeeps. On the written press front – a category that very loosely I tumble into – there are about ten laptops ablaze, today. This is a couple more than usual, for a women’s international and about thirty less than for a blokes’ event. It’s been raining steadily-but-lightly for about an hour: forecasts offer some hope for later. I’m not seeing water *actually collecting* on the outfield just yet but that moment can’t be far away. It’s absolutely in the balance and on the edge and teetering on the wotsits. Cruelly. An emphatic moment of clearing cannot come soon enough…

Let’s talk about Heather Knight, who is not playing. Some in the Press Posse are speculating – more than that, they are making the case for the prosecution – around why she may not play for her country again. The argument is that given she is ‘out for the summer’ (crocked), she is late-career and has never been a great athlete, therefore her chances of getting fit enough quickly enough to be a contender for Big Matches Ahead are slimmish to nil. Therefore she may have donned the shirt for the last time. There may be something in this. We could throw in the notion that this is also a New Regime and Sciver-Brunt has usurped the captaincy role. So who needs Knight?

It may fall this way but Ar Trevor has been better than just the stereotype(d) stalwart-worldie. She remains an outstanding batter who has sexed-up her game for the era of More Boom. She has a palpably better and palpably more proven temperament than many of her contemporaries. Yes a younger alternative may be out there, the batting line-up may not need her – may actually have ‘moved on’. Or not. This stuff is unknowable except to Charlotte Edwards, who may have already made a secret call.

My view is that if there is any chance whatsoever for Heather Knight to battle her way back to fitness and contention, she will be battling. Being (I think) aware of her limitations, she’s always worked like hell. She may not have the agility or flow of Athlete A but skipper or no, this will matter… and she may still have the sheer grit to make herself undroppable.

14.19. There are good-sized puddles on the outfield now. Tad brighter; still raining.

14.33. It may have stopped raining. We can see the Quantocks. The umps are ambling out – brollied. There is no prospect of immediate play, coz of those aforementioned shallow lagoons but there are buts. The officials are talking with Groundsgeezer-in-Chief, who for all I know may be advocating an abandonment. As I discreetly slurp coffee numero deux, I’m hoping he ain’t. The super-sopper is doing its thing, suggesting this is worth fighting for. The Lads (it IS lads) are taking the pegs out of the ground: covers may soon be shifted, I imagine after the supersopper has passed over them(?)

Announcement on pitchside screen. Pitch inspection at 15.10, if no further rain. After that check, a further inspection at 15.40… when play *may be possible*, if it stays as bright as it currently is.

Dangerously optimistic update: at 15.37 it feels like we should re-start close to 4pm. (*Fatal*).

This applies if they can actually get the covers off by the appointed time. Which I doubt.

Oof. ‘5 o’clock start if there’s no further rain’. So the surface really is still wet out there. Reduced game – obvs. Maximum overs per team, 21.

Moments away from that re-start. Should happen and if we start we really might finish those 21 overs. Notes from the re-warm-ups? Mentioned this before but really like that Lottie E is out there with a mitt in hand: failing to grab the balls from Filer that are, encouragingly, flattening the flexi-stumps. Great arm on Arlott; ditto Cross. Dunkley less so but we knew that, right? Energetic turning of the arm for Filer and Glenn. (Other seamers may now be bowled-out).

Game on. Dean will open, towards us; that is, from the Lord Ian Botham Stand. She has Campbelle stumped with the first ball of the new session: the batter wandering, a little naively, perhaps? Gajnabi takes a single. Sarah Glenn from in front of us. Joseph hits her hard to deep midwicket: one bounce.

Then a beauty – full and floaty, possible wrong ‘un – does for Gajnabi. Searching delivery but the batter went all around it. 46 for 5 now, WIndies; seven overs remain of the 21 allotted. Glasgow joins Joseph. Filer is in and starts with a poorish full toss that Joseph can only clout high over Cross’s shoulder at mid-on. Awkward, yes but she should catch it: doesn’t. No matter. After thrashing England’s quickest through the covers, Glasgow can only scuff to ADR, at mid-off. Reaches well so gone… and 58 for 6. England can realistically hope to bowl the visitors out, at this rate. Five overs.

Cute. Glenn has changed ends but is bowling a wide. Then beating the batter. Rather wonderfully, a good number of people have come back in to the ground. Glenn applies a further squeeze to Alleyne – quiet over. Dean is underneath us and being clattered square, without much in the way of elegance, by Joseph. The bowler can really mix this up – and does. Not much sign of the ball being damp: Glenn is doing nothing to suggest an issue. Despite the chronic urgency runs are not coming. 75 for 6 with two overs remaining.

Filer. Another full-toss. Not middled but goes through to the mid-wicket boundary nevertheless. Then Capsey fluffs a stop at the boundary before Alleyne gets a third boundary and a fourth, in succession. One dabbed over slip, the other battered downtown. Poor over for England which makes 100 for the visitors possible.

Glenn will finish: Joseph booms her straight to Dunkley at deep midwicket: the fielder takes the catch nervelessly. Claxton takes a four then clears the boundary in front of square – the ball may even have struck the WIndies dugout! Alleyne skies the last ball of the innings to Dunkley, now in the circle. England must chase 106. Ten minute turnaround.

Sciver-Brunt and Dunkley will open for England. James will bowl. Nice controlled four, through extra. It makes the bowler go shorter… but she fluffs it and it’s wide. Dunkley misses out on an awful drag-down before NSB drives back to the bowler. Eight from the over.

Glasgow starts with a full-toss which Dunkley flat-bats straight for four. Later the bowler beats that same batter with a quickish one which leaves her off the deck. Seven from the over.

James goes widish to Dunkley who cuts. Aerial but safe – four. The bowler going into the pitch (to be ‘safe’) but gifts another wide. 23 for 0 after 3.

Almost-drama as NSB slaps Glasgow towards the midwicket. Just falls short. Next up the England skipper corrects herself and clatters convincingly to the same boundary. Claxton will follow. Good length then wide of off, beating Dunkley. But a big legside wide and a poor full-toss, which is despatched. A-and an offside wide. Times two. So somewhere between mixed and bloody awful. Low risk stuff from England and they’re still going at 8s. We could be done in 12 overs.

Dunkley is reviewing Ramharack’s first delivery. Given lb by Sue Redfern. Correctly, as it turns out. 40 for 1, England. Enter Capsey. Good running, particularly from her captain gets her a three, to fine leg. The breeze may have picked up a tad and it’s across the pitch but these remain bowler-friendly conditions. Perhaps this is why England don’t appear to be hurrying. Brilliant stop and throw on the point boundary, by Grimond. The bowling remains mixed, however. 56 for 1 off 7, England.

Poor delivery from Ramharack gets disdainfully Ramharacked through extra by Capsey. The batters appear to be simply picking the opposition off, rather than going for an early thrashing. Fair enough. Capsey in particular could probably do with time at the crease. Another gift (from the newcomer Munisar) sees Capsey sweep behind square once more. 13 come from the over, bringing England into the stroll home zone.

Make that canter. There is a gear-change, as the home team get close. Sciver-Brunt is hitting hard, with evil purpose.

More boundaries: Capsey is sweeping with confidence. 94 for 1 off 10. What was my prediction, again?

Munisar receives more merciless but controlled violence. 100 up in the 11th. Immediately, the skipper gets to 50 and beyond… and then the game is done, for the loss of just the one wicket, as NSB carts to midwicket. It is, after all another thrashing. But I’ve enjoyed – enjoyed the #getthegameon-ness we’ve witnessed and the solid performance of the England group. They are patently significantly better than the current opposition but that’s ok. There are always things to build for, things to learn. Now I race to the train!

sportslaureate

A voice on sport, arts & everything… from West Wales.

coaching