Headley 279-6 dec drew with President's XI 195-9

On a pitch freshened by some overnight pie-throwing from above, James Midmer completed the second part of his presidential day duties successfully - cannily losing the toss and being inserted by Ed Pickard, thus enabling his rather bloated team to digest a wonderful lunch.

The first part of Midmer's duties had been the lunchtime speech, which the new skipper had delivered with aplomb, especially given the destructive duo of Waller and Harrison lying in wait at the end of the table for any mistake to
pounce upon; the said combination having to wait later in the piece for some trademark interventions.

James Moss wasn't in the mood for waiting. The tall, well-built, left-hander hooked and pulled his way to a 26-ball fifty before smashing a full toss into the hands of cover, who did well to show no pain.

Chapman P, who was on gardening leave of the non-hedge fund variety, looked keen to make the most of a rare trip away from the chrysanthemums and built a trademark innings to set Headley on the path to a big total. However, the
fruitiness of the pitch was in evidence when Chapman was bowled by the wicket-keeper turned medium-paced tyro for 84.

Still, with nearly 200 on the board for the loss of only four wickets, Pickering Snr. and Hopper were able to swing freely for the fences, and after a little cameo from Ashworth, Midmer was able to call in his troops at a formidable 279 for 6.

More food was digested at tea, and with the promise of even more food at the close of play, there was every reason for the Headley fielders to cover the ground to shed the tea-time pounds. Chapman and Moss, however, decided that slip and leg-slip would do just fine.

Clarke was given the new cherry by Midmer, who must have sensed the pitch was ideal for the slow-slow medium pacer's floaters - which have often been mistaken by many opening batsman for the creamiest of chocolate éclairs in the post-tea session. And when the Headley opener hit the spot the temptation did indeed prove too strong; unfortunately chocolate éclairs aren't that easy to catch.

From the other end, Waller took a while to hit the spot - a bit like some of his jokes - but eventually his class told, and Russell - often a spoiler on President's day - and Charlie Pickard were both accounted for.

Sensing an opportunity, Midmer tossed the ball to Hopper, hoping the damp pitch would grip for the arm-ball specialist. It turned out to be a great call from the skipper as Hopper found a minefield on a length and accounted for the President's middle order, with a superb stumping from Ashworth - who took the ball going through bat and pad - a notable moment helping the cause.

The ball was then thrown to Stone: the returning Headley opener - a destroyer of batsman and garages - delivering the goods and accounting for the stubborn left-handed opener for 50.

Feeling the Midus touch, Midmer threw the ball to slow-medium, occasionally medium-slow; very, very occasionally full-on medium paceman Chapman: a true destroyer of village tails. The former Sunday skipper responded with two
trademark balls that sent the stumps.... just a little off kilter. Headley were now just one wicket away.

Unfortunately, Ed Pickard had decided that numerous big scores in this fixture only merited a number 11 birth, and strided out to join Headley turncoat Simon Moss with only a draw to play for.

The junior Moss quickly became the man that Midmer's men homed in on. Men gathered around the bat and Chapman came steaming in like a Vindaloo. Moss, however, had a plan. He had calculated that by charging the Headley paceman he would put him off his game. It also became evident that padding up with the wrong pad would further confuse the slow-medium/medium-slow/medium destroyer.

Unfortunately for Moss junior this only served to rattle Chapman's cage. The Headley man's response to the Moss antics was a vicious bouncer from short of a length and a choice selection of words from the sledging handbook. Moss, however, was undeterred and eventually his charging tactics frustrated Chapman into trying to bowl too fast... as if 68mph isn't fast enough.

Midmer, who had up to this point neither batted or bowled, decided that he would take the matter into his own hands, and took the ball for the final over of the match with Moss on strike.

The captain's plans for a Headley win were immediately put into jeopardy after Moss - showing absolutely no appetite for leaving a wide pie - slashed with wild abandon at a Midmer loosener and ran a single to put skipper Ed Pickard on strike. The game now seemed lost. But Midmer, summoning up one last big effort, bowled a beauty at Pickard which beat the bat and struck the pad half way up.

It appeared a good shout, and Midmer and his fielders went up with belief. The eyes of the village turned to Dickie Doran. The Headley umpire thought about it for a moment... and then it happened...the trademark trigger movement: the slight lean of the head to the right, the schoolmasterly look, the sign of life from hand in pocket.

Like a lion on the lookout for food, Midmer scented blood and went up again, his fielders not far behind him with a mammoth encore appeal designed to prize the finger from the pocket; a finger that was clearly desperate to come out, that just needed to be prized out: more wild noises, the middle turning into Whipsnade zoo, still all eyes on Doran... who smiled.

And suddenly the noises stopped. Everyone knew what that meant. Doran is not a man to give a player out with a smile. Pickard knew it, and started to rub his thigh with a smile, sharing a joke with the crowd in the knowledge that this was to be a day that replicated the lesser cricket event in Cardiff.

A draw.

Well played all.