Laurence Elderbrook benefits from the gift of time

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Previous instalment from Laurence Elderbrook

For once the normally laborious aspect of cricketer errantry was swift. My squire, Darron-with-an-O, secured a slot for me with a local club within minutes of our setting off in my motorcar. I had anticipated a long morning roaming from club to club and so this development was most welcome.

An added advantage was that early arrival gave me more time to properly prepare. I asked the captain to give me ten minutes’ notice of when the match was about to start. This would give me enough time to complete my exercise regimen, allowing me to be perfectly prepared for my innings. With everything in place, I now spent my spare time relaxing with a small glass of gin.

At the appointed hour, the captain gave me the nod and I moved into the car park where I embarked upon my standard routine.

As I was essaying my twenty to thirty mad gambols, a small crowd formed, doubtless keen to pick up some tips. They seemed a band of merry souls, but their mood unexpectedly turned when I made to embark on a series of naked frisks.

Several of their number appeared to take issue with my approach and when I attempted to explain that it was impossible to satisfactorily complete frisks without exposing one’s rarities, they refused to believe me.

A somewhat fractious debate then took place after which I took it upon myself to depart, for the good of all involved. After instructing Darron to deliver my immaculate cream flannels to the motorcar, I headed inside to claim some victuals before exiting the scene with the serene dignity afforded to only the very few.

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  1. Coincidentally, we had a conversation about naked cavorting last night, over dinner with friends.

    Daisy and I are all in favour of it, but only in the privacy of our own home. Kim and Jo really don’t fancy it at all.

    Indeed the only one of us around the table who did once try it in public is Micky. He was trying to get himself expelled from an institution he found overly regimented for his taste. The method worked well for him.

    Micky’s one and only attempt at playing cricket (he is a Belgian, bless him) was in one of our charity matches. After grazing in the less-frequented regions of the outfield for an hour or so, when a ball finally came his way, he attempted to set off at pace to stop the ball, only to pull up sharpish having tweaked a hammy.

    So when it was our turn to bat, we had to nurture an already confused and injured Belgian debutant through the intricacies of batting with a runner. It neither went well nor lasted long. But still he enjoyed himself.

    If only Micky had undertaken some gambols or frisks before attempting to field the ball.

    1. There are a few societies in the UK that go in for naked frolics. The Peter Warlock Society is one, if one can frolic naked on motorbikes. I’m one of their latest members, so to speak.

    2. Had an interesting insight into the world of real tennis today at Lord’s.

  2. I don’t suppose Laurence managed to pick up one of these ‘accelerated citizenships for well-known cricketers’ during his sojourn in Australia, seasons past? A bit like Fawad ‘Fast-Track’ Ahmed? According to a certain David Warner, the locals may be struggling to raise a team later this year. Some argument about bus fares or something.

  3. Laurence must be due now… a stack of runs are surely his for the taking as soon as these mystifying, cruel circumstances finally contrive in his favour and the world catches up with this trailblazer.

    In other news, it’s Bess vs Bearz, round 2…

  4. Much as I love Laurence’s sidekick-with-an-O (should that be sidekock-with-an-O, or does that only appear during the naked frisks?) I can’t help but thinking the canvas of Laurence’s further adventures would be enriched by an additional assistant.

    Does Laurence possess a cat who is indifferent to cricket? Or perchance a capybara?

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