Lovely, lovely day. Lovely, lovely drive down into the Borders, past the turn to Shiftyshire. Lovely, lovely Johnners on the tape deck (Sample joke: "Have you heard about the flasher who reconsidered his retirement? He decided to stick it out another year."). Lovely, lovely ground. Horrible, horrible performance.
We lost the toss and batted. All out in 23 overs for 47 of which JB scored 31. Greg Fenton, the division's leading wicket-taker, was the chief destroyer bowling with some pace and plenty of intelligent variation to record the splendid figures of 9-3-22-7. The Souters then knocked off the runs in under 11 overs for the loss of Skeldon, strangled down the legside, with Fenton again leading the way with 28 not out. The first Philiphaugh massacre was in 1645. By 16.45 we were finished, showered, we'd had our tea and a pint and were getting in our cars. Horrible.
Admittedly, Selkirk are a fine side who will surely and deservedly record a second consecutive divisional championship this season. Admittedly, only one visiting team has passed 70 at Philiphaugh this season. But ours was the lowest score of the year and recorded against a team weakened by stag weekends and festivals. Horrible.
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