Flying bats and the going away ball at Hampsthwaite

Saturday arrived and I had planned the relative short trip to Hampsthwaite Cricket Club, situated in a small village a stone’s throw from Killinghall, with both villages on the north side of Harrogate.

The blue sky was showing in patches, threatening nice weather, but it was also a bit on the colder side for June with a blustery wind adding to the ‘chill’ factor.

To be fair, there was no chance of rain and so there were no complaints on my behalf.

Hampsthwaite is quite a big village, spread out along the main road that runs through it, and the village cricket club is one of those places secreted away from public view. 

Passing the village shop on one side and The Joiners Arms on the other (which has some cricket-related décor to look at while you eat your lunch – the food is highly recommended), you will need to veer off the main road by the small triangle of grass on the bend and turn down an unassuming entry between two buildings immediately on your right.

As you emerge from between the houses, you will see the back of the pavilion on your left and a small car park on your right.

Getting out of the car, the ground looked splendid in the sun, a riot of bright green grass and big skies of blue and white.

I got my things out of the car and walked in through the open gate, negotiating the van parked just outside of the fence. Approaching a couple of figures standing on the veranda of the pavilion, I introduced myself and found out that one of the guys was a builder.

. . .

It turns out that the pavilion is literally in the final stages of being completed, ready to be formally opened by Dorothy Thwaite, who has been involved with the club for 70 years.

. . .

Unfortunately, she has been unwell recently and the new pavilion will be officially opened when Dorothy is able to return to the club.

Dorothy has been the scorer at the club for many years, and one player recounted with a broad smile how umpires were admonished by her as to how to signal sixes and fours correctly.

It never ceases to amaze me, the number of people like Dot that have dedicated so much of their lives to one club, being the lifeblood of the local community.

Introductions done; I took a wander around the edge of the ground to take in the sights. 

The cricket club is on the boundary of the village with open fields at the back; grass car park to the right side, with a public right of way for walkers to transition from village to countryside; and a few houses across a field that has seemingly been left fallow on the left side of the ground.

If there wasn’t a copse of trees and a slight incline in the way, you could probably have seen Killinghall Cricket Club from the steps of the pavilion; in fact, I am pretty sure that you could take one of the public rights of way and walk through the fields to Killinghall.

On the fence and overgrown by long grass was a sad-looking antiquated roller that has seen better days, with the number 896 clearly visible on the front. 

I wondered how much it would take to restore it to former glories, but I suspect that it was beyond economic repair – but could be something of a labour of love for someone who had the know-how and patience to restore it.

Further along the boundary were a pair of football goals, again in the process of being swallowed up by the long grass. The village has a football pitch, which from memory was the other side of the small car park but hidden from view by a row of trees.

A few players had turned up by now and had pulled the small set of nets into the middle of the ground to warm up, and I hurried around the boundary to approach the new pavilion from the other side.

Saturday’s game was between Hampsthwaite and Bolton Abbey – a team that I plan to visit later on this summer. Their ground is one of the more picturesque ones in the area, and a place that I’ve always liked.

Many of the clubs this side of Harrogate play in the Theakston Nidderdale League, and today’s teams are no exception; they currently play in Division Three and sit near the top.

The visitors won the toss and put Hampsthwaite into bat, a decision that was to pay dividends.

My first impression of Bolton Abbey this season – their bowling was fast, accurate and aggressive, with their fielding backing it up.

The home team coped admirably with the initial onslaught, defending well, but not scoring many runs. Like the proverbial bus, when Bolton Abbey were to make the breakthrough in the fifth over, they followed it up quickly with a second in the sixth.

By the time drinks were taken after the 21^st over, Hampsthwiate had lost four wickets and had only scored around 50 runs; it had certainly been the visitors who had dominated up to that point.

Drinks taken, the teams took to the field once more and Hampsthwaite went about redressing the balance. The warm conditions had taken a little out of the pacy Bolton Abbey attack, and the home team took advantage, upping the run rate and building towards a defendable total.

By the final ball of their innings, Hampsthwaite had managed to reach 155 only losing a further three wickets and had featured a bat flying into the onside infield as the owner had lost grip of the handle when going for a big hit.

. . .

Stephen Laurence had top-scored for the home team, scoring 63 from 71 balls not out, hitting eight fours on his way. Richard Barratt had been unlucky to be bowled for 44, just shy of his half century – having hit five fours.

. . . 

Peter Cockcroft shone with the ball for Bolton Abbey, getting two wickets for just 19 runs in his ten overs, with two maidens.

I ventured into the pavilion and ordered a pint of bitter from the bar – which I thoroughly enjoyed outside in the warm summer sun.

By this point, the larger clouds that had threatened to sit over the village had blown away and were replaced by small white ones. The wind had also abated somewhat and I was considering taking off my jacket!

The players, suitably refreshed from their tea, took to the field and resumed battle.

I was surprised how well Hampsthwaite bowled, restricting the visitors from scoring heavily; however, whereas the home team had scored around four an over in the early stages of their innings, Bolton Abbey were posting up to seven an over in the early overs of their reply.

It took until the ninth over for Hampsthwaite to make the breakthrough, clearly delighting the players, who were looking to arrest the slightly higher run rate. Three overs later and they had their second wicket – maybe a glimmer of hope of turning the game in their favour?

The visitors were also having a few moments of luck; a tricky ball evaded a bat, almost grazing the wickets but inexplicably missing them somehow; a dropped catch that would nine times out of ten be held onto; and a shot intended to be hit one direction being edged in another.

If the wickets gave Hampsthwaite hope, Bolton Abbey had other ideas, and over the next few overs they scored heavily. By drinks they had lost only one more wicket and were approaching 100 scored. By the 29th over they were within touching distance of victory.

. . .

Ironically, the visitors were to get over the line with a wide ; rather an anticlimax as both sets of players looked a little bemused as to ‘is that it?’.

Indeed, it was, and Bolton Abbey had won by six wickets.

. . .

All the batsmen for Bolton Abbey got into double figures, with Naveed Qayuum top-scoring with 47 runs from 58 balls, scoring eight fours.

The highlight of the Hampsthwaite bowling was the charismatic Andrew Carrick who bowled an entertaining two overs and picked up one [much enjoyed] wicket for eleven runs.

As Andrew went to bowl one ball he called out ‘This is the going away ball! Either he’s going away or I’m going away!’.

As the final ball was bowled, the BBQ had been lit with a wonderful aroma of cooking food drifting across the ground, the sun was still shining, and the families that had turned up to watch were enjoying a few drinks, sitting around the front and side of the pavilion.

Looking on as I packed my cameras away, the scene was certainly one of sport and community embracing each other in a small village. 

Plenty of chatter and smiles; no hustle and bustle of everyday life; no election faff intruding; a momentary suspension of outside worries as the participants enjoyed the idyll.


📸 MATCH PHOTOS

Thanks to Mark for his observations and images from Hampsthwaite Cricket Club.

Here are his other articles on Cricket Yorkshire.

To check out more of his photography, you can visit caughtlight.com or he’s @caughtlight on Twitter/X.

There’s also the Caught Light Photography Facebook page.

I also highly recommend his blog called Leica Moments that include days out at grounds around North Yorkshire.