The 2008 tour started in time honoured fashion by the meeting of minds outside Pie Mansions.  The usual ‘has anyone got any room for another passenger?’ was heard and Lewis Doel was almost left behind in the confusion.  Jemima and Wedge had left at the crack of dawn but soon called to let us know of an accident on the motorway, which delayed everybody.

I travelled with number one son, Paul – in fact he did the driving, which was a nice change.  Passengers were Quimby (with his 97 items of luggage) and Pie, with his encyclopaedic knowledge of little known and even less cared for, non-league football trivia.

The 'What Happens on Tour Goes on Facebook' t shirts were much in evidence, even though some of the more elderly tourists wouldn't know Facebook from Faceache.   The Foresters’ landlord and landlady greeted us like prodigal sons and must have been mentally counting the bar profits already.

The Crowcombe match was reduced to a 25 over thrash due to the gathering storm clouds. This proved to be a good decision, as the heavens opened just as the game finished.  The opening partnership of DW Sylvester and T Williams took us to 29 (in the 11th over) when Pie was out for the longest duck known to man.  Terry W carried on to become our top scorer with 35.  Quimby reached 22 before being run out and then we had a bit of a collapse when Paul F and Nick ‘Biggun’ Jones were both out without troubling the scorers.  A lusty 32 from Skipper Erskins gave us a respectable total of 118 for 6 after the 25 overs.

The home side’s response was kept in check by some decent bowling from Greg Tressider (1/15 off 5 overs) with hindrance from Jim Ord (0/27 off 4).  Terry Williams picked up a couple of wickets for 18 in his 4 over spell, but Nathan Cuddihy was unlucky not to pick up any victims in his 5 overs (0/16).  Nathan’s luck was obviously nicked by Paul Fisher as he returned figures of 4/14 off 4 overs and umpire JT was credited with an assist for the first of those wickets (LBW, caught or what?)

The final over saw Crowcombe requiring 8 runs, with only one wicket left to take. Quimby bowled two dots and then was slapped for a big 6 off the third ball.  After another dot ball, the home side scrambled two singles to secure a victory off the last ball.

The Crowcombe teas were up to the expected standard and the free booze was most welcome. Little did we know, as we watched the revered multicoloured trophy being handed over to the home skipper, that this was the end of the cricket for the whole tour.

I incurred my first fine for making a complete pig’s ear of the scorebook – I had to admit it was well deserved, but I took exception at the fines for ‘being ginger’ and ‘being English’.  Pie lost a shoe and was destined never to find it.

The Foresters hold a quiz night on Sundays and our select team was pipped at the post due to a final round that could only be described as ‘local knowledge’ rather than general knowledge.  Questions such as ‘what’s the name of the farmer’s wife up the road’ were definitely NOT designed for visiting teams.

Onto the drinking….the first award must go to Gethin Stone for managing to stay upright in the face of a determined assault on his liver from all quarters.  Waking up inside a wardrobe was probably the least he could have expected following the carnage that was Sunday night.

Greg Tressider’s heroic effort to keep up with the professionals didn’t go unnoticed; neither did the fact that he was AWOL for much of the following day. 

A gallant band of all nighters set the bar at the highest level for the remainder of the tour and John Gee started as he meant to continue – in top gear from the first minute.  More was to come.

Monday saw Sampford Arundel under water, so we had to amuse ourselves.  I accompanied Paul, Quimby, Pie and Doely on a trip to a rain sodden Taunton where we looked around the County shop and bought some cricketing crap. The pink Crocs made their first appearance of the week – courtesy of Quimby and Doel.  And the sight of our beloved treasurer standing in the middle of Taunton’s busy shopping area with his trousers round his ankles is one I will have nightmares about for many a long year.  The Pimm’s Jug made a brief return before we set off for Williton.  On the way back (at Pie’s request, of course) we stopped off in Sampford Arundel to have a look at where we might have played.  After getting hopelessly lost we then got stuck in the mud and Pie was roundly abused as a result – the donkey bites were in evidence for the remainder of the journey (don’t ask).

A mass visit to the Indian restaurant in Williton, during which Pie managed to hoover up a whole poppodom in 5 seconds flat, preceded a second night of quiet ale supping back at The Foresters.  The Geeforce was beginning to warm up by now and the gold medal was within his grasp even then, but Jim Ord was coming up close on the rails.

The news that the pitch at Bagborough was not fit for play on Tuesday came as no surprise to anyone.  Various activities were planned, including golf (ok, pitch and putt) for a select band of devotees.  My day was based around the annual trip to Minehead market with Doely, Pie, Quimby and Donny.  The wares on display were as astoundingly bad as usual and the Chuckle Brothers provided us with some stirring entertainment throughout the day.  Donny was too tight to part with any money so the rest of us played a round of Crazy Golf.  Although Pie was clearly leading going into the last hole, the card somehow managed to show that I had won by one stroke.  We celebrated my victory in the pub and began an earnest debate on the best type of loam to use for cricket pitches. Surrey Loam won by a mile, but Donny still held out for Ongar….. I had to excuse myself at one stage as I thought I was going to die laughing.  It was touch and go but I managed to compose myself in the end.

When it was time to have lunch Donny was true to his miserly self and went to the chippy while the rest of us had a proper meal. 

Tuesday night saw another mass visit, this time for a steak at the Wyndham Arms.  Jim Ord’s medal prospects were enhanced following a fine display of early evening debauchery.  Back at the Foresters it was karaoke night, so obviously the Welsh contingent had to sing (and I use the word advisedly).  Ryan’s rendition of ‘The Wild Rover’ was up (?) to it’s usual standard - can someone please give him a copy of the words?

The Room of Doom was to come into its own that night.  Massed handbags were much in evidence as John Gee attempted to take on all comers.  As a result of this, in spite of an excellent late burst from Jim Ord, The Gee was awarded a posthumous gold medal for services to the Somerset Brewing Industry.

The final day began with the news that the good folk of Huish Chumpbucket had also been unable to rescue the game, so it too was called off.  After an abortive trip back to Crowcombe to look for Pie’s shoe we sadly headed back up the M5 and across the bridge to be greeted by another downpour as we entered Wales.

The 2008 tour will go down in Centurion history as a bit of a washout (played one, lost one and three called off).  But, as all tour veterans will know, touring isn't all about the cric.......

Mick