It's just not cricket.

 Potter was up early and ripped off a quick post on his blog called Old Grumpy.

He titled it 'A Big Moan' and started by saying, "Our five readers, except maybe for Sarah, will know that Old Grumpies Unlimited is made up of a lot of Grumpy blogs for which Old Grumpy acts as editor. We also have associated blogs, of which The Beer Chap is a very popular one. 

This editing is a big undertaking and carries a lot of responsibility in ensuring that the blog posts are regularly updated with fresh and relevant information." From there he sort of waffled on about Terry's Pipes and even had a go at the contributor from Denmark. He suspected that Trent would have stopped reading at about this point, but he carried on anyway. 

Once he'd finished, he grabbed his bat and headed to the car. 

No time to proofread. He was still walking with a slight limp. A few weeks ago he had been, against the advice of people at the clubhouse, down a bank near the river retrieving cricket balls that had been hit too far by young cricketers. He survived the trip down and back up the bank but, as he crossed the cricket pitch, he had dropped the heavy box of balls onto his foot.  

Now he was on his way to the Waikanae Domain. His team of old men wore white. On the back of their shirts were two words - GRAVEN IMAGES. This had been Potter's idea and it sort of caught on with the other old men who didn't really know the back story. These shirts would be perfect as they faced their opponents today. 

Their opponents had driven up from Eastbourne. They were members of a Presbyterian church and among their rank stood Trent Torn - who blogged as Trent the loving truck driver. This morning he had actually read ALL of Potter's post and especially remembered the part, near the end, where he had hinted that Presbyterians weren't as good Christians as Catholics. Trent was ready to play.

The Waikanae Domain. Game on!

This was a game between two teams of old men and there were no exciting parts like in the picture below.

 The ball wasn't hit far and the running between wickets was very slow. Jimmy was keeping the score but he headed off to the toilet halfway through the game and missed quite a bit of the action play. He'd asked his ninety year old friend to keep an eye on things but he'd dozed off for a while. Trent had played quite well, though he did throw out some big words at the wicket keeper when he was batting. Potter sort of limped along on his two attempts to score a run. He said, Shoosh!" so much that it wasn't long before some of the Presbyterian fielders started mimicking him. I don't think a Catholic fielder would have done that. Unless it was someone like Ray Nuns.

The game ended in quite a bit of confusion. Most spectators (there weren't many) would probably have guessed that the Presbyterians had won. Potter was in a bit of a huff and didn't stick around for after match drinks. 

There would be a post later from The Fair Play Grump who would say, "Shoosh! Talk about a sloppy umpire. I wonder if he even knew what a 'wide' is." He did say more but Trent, who was reading it, lost interest at that point. He left a comment.

"I acknowledge that you wrote a post."

When Potter saw the comment, he just said, "Shoosh!"