Round 12 v Frankston (Heat) - Day 1

The drive to Frankston, an expanse of black top that comes at a cost (another broken government promise - thanks Mr Bracks) in currency but allows a reasonable time period for sonic pleasure. Mastodon the noise of choice today, the electric rumble being symptomatic of the day to unfold. Unable to fathom the connection of road side art in the form of a miniature hotel to a toll road - more like a cheeky slight towards the greater public.

Frankston by the bay, a picturesque panorama and a wicket table that can appear inviting but has been known when unveiled to conduct in the manner of a wicked seductress. Humid evaporates as the sun comes out with the temperature starting to approach a light sear. Win toss and bat, Tom Tom and Skipper Dick depart with uncertainty earlyish by the clock but Gas Box and Smash settle in with conviction. All appeared on course as a base was established at 2/50, run rate at a lesser rate than preferred but to be at the break in this position more than acceptable.

Warm up completed with 3rd XI, Kitchen Man losing another toss and being given the task of bowling first in conditions that would take some application from a younger attack this week going through a restructure. Kebab displayed some unique bowling preparation through the application of diagonal logic, thankfully the Speed Demons were focused, impact here was imminent.

2nd XI at Schramms were in the field with the recovering (?) Resident Emo out to prove a depth of resilience with some early poles. But as the radiating sun kicked in with serious Heat, it all went wrong on the main ground. Batsman walking out faster than they could get in as one end became a rotating frenzy while Gas Box looked on in mute disbelief, unable to fathom what was so difficult that was not being sent in his direction. Collapse complete and a pithy total to defend. Stoic resistance at Schramms was also unfolding, the diametric opposite while Cookie Monster and the Pirate cut a swathe into the Heat top order allowing the spin pythons to step in and suffocate before Son of Chairman sent down a series of square rocks of dots.

At least the DKP Squad maintained a semblance of normality, reasonable start to be at 3/112 (again) and then a complete collapse to be done with, well shy of 200 that could have given a challenge. Young Jmai giving good sight with another effort of determination.

The mind is frazzled, the logic evaporated, the warnings non existent, get me out of here - I hope that I am dreaming.