Only one of our members made a half-century last season when on August 31st 1998 our revered club manager, Robert-Gilles martineau, reached his millstone, sorry, milestone.
                        The fact that he had been stuck on 49 for the whole year, or that he was holding a croque monsieur rather than a cricket bat, had little to do with it.
 
                        So, when the Kytes' end of season party was arranged (by none other than R-G M himself) it was just the opportunity we needed to recognise Robert's 50th birthday.
                        The Associa Hotel was once more the venue for nigh-on 40 revellers as the usual mix of beer and grub was voraciously devoured.
                        The only exceptions in this gastronmic orgy were Bruce and Antony who were present only in body, barely managing to survive Janne's farewell binge the previous night, and in no state for a repeat performance.
                        Our numbers were swollen by a bevy of beauties whose charms seemed to keep some of our more boisterous members in a somewhat decorous mood.
                         The dynamic duo of Yoshiko and Yasuo were there as well as the terrible trio of Hiroko H., Michiko and Yasuo. In addition Mitsuki, Yuko and Yukapi also brought along Noriyo, Hiromi and another Yuko. yasuko came with natsuko; Hiroko U. and mitsuko were also there and neil Brought belle, who was most welcome as always.
                         These rather attractive young ladies kept the likes of Nick, mark, Martin, Tom, Randy, Takashi, and Anton well-occupied, as well as our guests Jeremy, Wallace and Brandon. Naturally Ume and Kevin Had eyes only for their respective spouses.
                         And when Todd waltzed in with Miki, in what can only be described as formal attire, it was clear that the Kytes were, for once, on their best behaviour.
                         Half way through Skip spared no-one from the obligatory speech, ably translated by the lovely Mitsuki. he went on a bit about all the things that robert does for the club both on and off the field, and presented him with a large tome entitled the 'History of Cricket'. We can hardly wait to hear what gems of information R-G M is going to provide us with this season.
                         The book was signed by one and all and the jollities resumed. As the 9pm deadline approached Robert learned that the expected fee of Yen3,150 had been reduced by 16% to Yen2,700 (a winter campaign), so armed with an extra Yen450 many set off in search of the next watering hole, with Randy and the box-like in the vanguard, clearing a path through the throngs of astounded partygoers along Gofukucho.

                         Yet another rip^roaring party was a fitting end to a thrilling season for a Kytes club that once again proved that it discriminates against no-one.
                         Nobody gives a second thought to anyone's race or creed; or indeed sexyual deviancy, or, come to think of it, ability too. And with Robert in his fifties it's perhaps a good time to remind everyone that there is no ageism in our club either. The fact that no allowance is ever made for his age (oranyone else's) is the best compliment that we could ever give. We await the century.
 

                        Plans are afoot for the first-class counties of England and Wales to abolish the toss, and award the choice of batting or fielding to the visiting team. So what's the story behind this?
                        The Sky Times editor had no hesitation in calling up his intrepid investigative reporter. Since his cover was blown after the lunch-time curry incident his true identity can now be revealed as Sheerluck Schwarzenegger, a direct descendant of the fictional character created by Sir Arnold Conan the Destroyer. So Cheerluck set off in hot pursuit of any tosser who might know what was going on.
                        In his initial probing he ascertained that cricket might well lose one of its quirkier rituals.

                        The subtle flick of thumb and index finger would be lost. The gentle, tantalising roll of the coin over grass, gravel or mat (depending on the toss-spots involved), finally coming to rest wedged between divots, raised by a pebble, or propped against a flange wouldall become a distant memory. arguments over which side of the coin was which would cease, as would those over whose coin it was in the first place.

                        Sheerluck was also able to discover that the cunning Captain Slog was even mulling over the idea of pickpocketing the latest Pommie commemorative coin. With QE2's mug on one side and Diana's boat race on the other a callof 'Heads' would invariably succeed. Of course this idea is nothing new and SS found it well-documented that cricket's greatest ever showman and conniver, WG, would frequently call 'the Lady', since most 19th Century British coins carried Queen Vic on heads and Britannia on tails.
                        In fact Sheerluck is able to divulge that there is a lot more to tossing than a simple flick of the fingers.
 
                        Fraught as it may seem though, tossing has served cricket (and many other sports) fairly and squarely for hundred of years. But arguing the toss is not the issue here. The problem lies with pitch-rigging.

                        Much to his dismay Sheerluck learned that it has become common practice for clubs to prepare their own pitches to suit their own bowlers. Do the cricket authorities believe this to be a recent phenomenom? Surely not, but it has seemingly got out of hand as of late, with the financial stakes higher than ever, aided and abetted by improved pitch preparation techniques.

                        With a little nosing through the record books SS can also reveal that the cricket code of 1774 not only gave the visiting team automatic chice of innings, but also choice of pitch position too. It was not until 1816 that the toss was introduced for choice of innings, the umpires deciding where to pitch the wickets.
                        Even so the abolishment of the toss will be seen by many as yet another step in the slow, but unceasing, erosion of cricket's traditional values of hard, fair sportmanship, which set it apart from most other sports these days. It's a sad irony that in order to preserve the tradition of fairplay the ritual of coin-toss may be sacrificed.

                       So, where does all this leave the Shizuoka Kytes CC? Flicking through the scorebook Sheerluck rapdly deduced that there would be no difference whatsoever, since the Kytes' captain always loses the Toss anyway.
                       Nevertheless the Kytes await the final deliberations of the cricket authorities, and in the meantime remain a bunch of tossers.
 

                       Even though this was not a cricket club event it is certainly worthy of a mention here as two of the Kytes, Mark and Antony, threw their sayonara party. Many other club members among the partygoers (though sadly Cleopatra couldn't make it), and it was a helluva bash.
                       Excepting an over-the-top performance from the redoutable Randy, the highlight was certainly the worst ever speech that the Kytes have ever witnessed. It made Skip sound like Winston Churchill. Unaccustomed as the pair may be to public speaking there can be no doubting the warm rendition of 'For they are jolly good fellows' which followed.
                      In some ways a year seems to pass so slowly, and in other ways so fast. it feels like both Antony and Mark have been playing for the Kytes for ages, but it also feels like their 1-year contracts have come around in no time at all.
                      Both appear to have made the most of their stay in Shizuoka. In fact the've seen much more of the country than many of the long-term stayers. We truly hope you have enjoyed you year in Japan and it has been a privilege knowing you both.
                      PS If either of you have any comments about your time in Japan, concerning cricket or anything else, and the ST editor is all ears.
 

                     Total sunshine, unbroken azure skies and not a puff of wind; it was good enough to have a game despite the 11 degrees Celsius temperature.
                     Instead it was the date for the AGM, held for the first time in Yoshida's soba house, where the 2nd floor was so warm that we needed to open all the windows along with a few bottles of that light brown Japanese fizzy stuff.

                     Most members will already have received the main points arising from this meeting, so no need for any detail here, just a few sundry points. The first one is concerned with the subject of captaincy.
                     Having led the team to more defeats than anyone in Kytes' history, having recently broken the record (and his finger) for most dropped catches (in fewer games than anyone before), having equalled the top-score of 147 (in aggregate at least), having conceded more runs in one over than any player in the history of Japanese cricket (32), and having contributed more than any other player to the fines fund, Skip realised that his mirror-image captaincy of Mark Taylor must come to an end, and in that he couldn't continue with these unparalleled standards for ever.
                     In typical Kytes fashion Bruce was somehow seconded before he was proposed and subsequently elected as the next captain. So it's skippa Harris from now on. His predecessor is contemplating a long retirement at long leg and No 11, but he'll also get involved with a little admin, and will return to being plain old Slog.

                    Another new member was welcomed at the meeting, Martin, an Aussie, and since neither Todd nor Randy were there we hope that his initial impressions of the club were not too bad.

                    The team's annal insurance whish amounts to Yen45,000 (roughly Yen 3000 each) will be covered by sponsorship from the local city council, arranged by R-G M. Many thanks to it and him

                    There will be some attempt this season at arousing the dormant Mucha C.C., the team that consists of our Japanese colleagues. They will almost certainly be short of players so it was proposed that the team be made up with 'second stringers' (for want of a better description) from the Kytes squad.

                    In case anyone was asleep during the meeting, Hiroko U was armed with Whathisname digital camera. Being the only one there with enough technical know-how to operate the thing she snapped away until all our mugshots were safely stored somewhere inside. She will then attach a wire from the camera to something else, press one of the buttons and, hey presto, all our pictures will be on Internet.
                    For everyone's information Robert is in the process of compuling a homepage for Shizuoka cricket.

                    Despite the aforementioned absence of our Randy it didn't take long for the grumpy proprietess to break out of her scowl on at least three separate occasions. The reason behind this is unclear, but the smart money is on the presence of the f-c.
 

                     With a new captain in place it seems a timely move to let you all in on his innermaost secrets and preferences.
                     One of the most recognised figures in the area between Southspot and Shizuoka station our broad-shouldered skippa is also husband to the wonderful Yoko and father to that bundle of joy, Tetsu.

                    Full name - Mervyn Bruce Rex Harris
                    Birthplace - Clare, South Australia
                    Birthdate - June 15th 1967
                    Height - 187cm
                    Weight - 104kg
                    Job - Technical Writer, Fujitsu shizuoka Engineering
                    Car - Mitsubishi
                    Newspapers - The Daily Yomiuri, The Melbourne Age

Favourite
                    Film - Diva
                    Actors - Ralph Fiennes, Nick Nolte, Gary Oldman
                    Actresses -Isabella Rosselini, Natasha Richardson, Emma Thompson
                    Books - Catch 22, Lord of the Rings
                    Meal - Gren Curry
                    Fruit - Oranges, but not he ones get here.
                    Vegetable - Honeyed carrots
                    Drink - Cooper's Stout
                    Sports - Cricket, Aussie Rules, Motor-Cycle GP, Rugby
                    Sportsman - Michael Doohan
                    Sportswoman - Gabriella Sabatini
                    CD - The dark Side of the Moon - Pink Floyd
                    Musicians - The Chieftains

                    Greatness weakness - Proscrastination
                    Greatest Strength - Whatever it was that made Yoko want to marry me

                    Most respected quality in others - Straightforwardness
 
                    Type of woman - Strong ones

                    Boyhood sporting hero - Lillee! Lillee! Lillee!

                    Most memorable sporting moment witnessed - My dad and Grandfather took me to a Test match at the Adelaide oval in the mid 1970's. I chanted Lillee! Lillee! Lillee! when he came on to bowl.

                   Most memorable personal sporting moment - Playing in the 2nds for the Illawara-Beac' Aussie Rules club and kicking three goals in the first quarter, then, in the first 30 seconds of the second quarter, dislocating my finger and being taken off the ground. Next week I was in the senior side, during which I also kicked a goal in the first quarter, but was later knovked unconscious and carried from the ground.

                  Motto in life - If it moves, stop it moving before you eat it, unless you are eating with Klingons.

                  Future dream - To come to cricket on a monster Harley with Ted in the side-car and play under his captaincy.

                  *NB:- Being unable to find the word 'Beac' in any dictionary, thesaurus, spellcheck or acronym glossary this side of Woomera, Ed asked MBRH for clarification. Skippa gladly obliged.
                  Apparently it means 'a team that may lose the match but will win all the drinking games'.
                  (Ring any bells?)
 

                  How did you fare in last season's series? Well here's a chance to make amends; a new season and a new series. And what better time than to lokk at a few of the regulations concerning that endangered species, the toss.

1) What is the latest time the toss can be made before the time scheduled for the match to start?

2) How long before the starting time can the toss-winning captain delay his decision to bat or field?

3) Can team selection be made after the toss?

4) Where must the toss take plase?

5) Who tosses?

                    The answers can be found somewhere in this issue.
 

                    Following massive outrage at the cricket critic's views on fast bowling which were aired in the last issue, he could be forgiven for keeping his opinions to himself in the future. But you can't keep a bad man down.
                    This time he attempts to tackle the question of who was the greatest ever batsman.

                    This is no time for beating aroun the bush or chewing the fat, or waiting for the cows to come home or until hell freezes over. No sense in mulling it over or giving it a second thought. It's time to throw all idioms out of the window and face the truth. The greatest ever batsman was the Don.

                     Forget all the current batting stars, many of whom are setting new records every time theu bat. Sachin tendulkar, despite his record 20 one-day international centuries, Steve Waugh and Brian Lara can't hold a candle to the Don.
                     Even the best of modern era batsmen like Viv richards, Sunil gavaskar and Barry richards don't get close.
                     Comparison with pre-war cricketers is only slightly more problemaric, and no argument could possibly made for the best of that era, with the likes of Jack Hobbs and Wally hammond in contention for a very distant second place.

                     Donald George Bradman was born in 1908 in the tough bush town of Bowral, New South Wales. he left school at 14 and lost his first job, as an estate agency clerk during the depression of the Twenties. By this time though he had already started to demonstrate his prodigious batting skills, honed by hours of endless practice, hitting a golf ball with a cricket stump against a corrugated iron wall.
                     He scored his first century when he was 12, and scored massively for Bowral town, and by the age of 20 made the Australian test team, where he remained for the next two decades.

                     At that time Australia as a nation was in the doldrums, unsure of herself and with high unemployment as a result of the worldwide depression. If ever a country needed a hero it was Australia, and she found it in her national sport, in the unsophisticated country boy from a strict and solid Protestant background.
                     An estimated 90% of the population closely followed Test matches, and with cricket also having a far greater hold on England's public consciousness than now, the battle for the Ashes had an extraordinary tenseness, far in excess of the Tests nowadays. Bradman's first tour, to England in 1930, was the first of his five Ashes series, four of which were won, the other being drawn (with Ashes retained)>

                     The 'pick, pack, pock' of bradman's bat on ball was already a familiar sound all around Australia before the 1930 tour, and by the time the summer was over it had become just as familiar around the grounds of England.
                     He scored a phenomenal 974 runs in that Ashes series, a figure that no-one has ever got remotely near, and in all scored 2960 runs that summer, averaging 98. His triple century in the Leeds Test included 309 runs in one day, another feat that no-one has ever approached in Test cricket, and his final score of 334, then a Test record, has since been surpassed on only a handful of occasions. His eventual departure was greeted by a London newspaper with a huge two-word headline, 'HE'S OUT!'
                     It is still an Australian record, and when Mark taylor equalled it last year, he respectfully declared the innings, saying that it was the only way he would ever be mentioned in the same breath as the Don.
                     From his arrival at the crease Bradman's mindset was that he would try ro score from every delivery. Not stylish, nor elegant, but a real run-machine, he batted with intense cocentration. Few shots were vere lofted, the rationale being that if you hit the ball along the ground you couldn't get caught.
                     To Bradman this meant that his dismissal could only be brought about by being bowled (or lbw) or run out. And it was only once run out after reaching the age of 21. This left very little for the opposition to exploit, so for the 1932/33 MCC Ashes tour to Australia the England side was built around a completely new set of tactics, devised to combat this one player alone: Bodyline.
                     It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't liked. Cricket had never seen the likes of it before; short pitched deliveries aimed toward the batsman's head and chest, with a packed leg-side field awaiting a catch. It was all perfectly legal but it wasn't cricket and the Australian public let the Poms know exactly what they thought of it.
                     Did it work? It succeeded insofar as it lowered Bradman's test average from a monumental 139 to a human 56, but Australia won the series and sent the tourists home with more than their tails between their legs.
                     Such was the outcry after the series, perhaps the most memorable of all time, that these blatantly unethical tactics were swiftly shelved, and cricket regained its popularity. Strangely enough when similar bodyline tactics were employed by the West Indian fast bowlers of the Seventies and Eighties, the only change to the game was the introduction of helmets.

                     By this time Bradman was feted at every turn, and it would have been so easy for him to get sucked in the celebrity life. Through his sensational batting exploits he had become a unifying, uplifting force for the nation, probably the most popular Australian in her history.
                     His Protestant upbringing never deserted him though. he married his childhood sweetheart, Jesse Menzies, just before the 1932 series, remained a devoted family man and still lives today in the same Adelaide house that they bought in 1935. His inner steel, which gave an appearance of coldness, never let the adulation corrupt his persona, nor distract him from his fierce determination at the crease.

                     It's hard to imagine the immense adoration that followed Don Bradman. And it's equally difficult to take in the facts surrounding his batting exploits.
                     His record stands head and shoulders above anyone before or since. A test average of 99.94 will never be surpassed (the next best is in the 60's), and in just 52 tests he scored 6,996 runs. A single boundary in his final test innings would have given him an average of a col 200, but he was out without scoring. It is doubtful that any cricketer has ever received such a standing ovation for a duck as the English crowd gave him that day.
                      Of his 338 first class inings 117 were centuries (more than 1 in 3) and 37 were over 200 (1 in 9). It was not just the quantity of runs that is staggering, it is also the speed. He score half as fast again as his partners, averging 42 runs per hour. his average stay at the crease was 2 hours 14 minutes. If there is anything approaching a weakness it is the number of ducks 16 (though he never registered a pair); not particularly high for anyone else, though a little out of place with his other statistics, but cold comfort to any bowler who runs in for Bradman's second delivery with the Don's score already on 4.
                      His epic Sheffield Shield innings of 452no in 1929/30 is still one the highest ever in first class cricket.
                      There can be little doubt that these figures would have been even higher if not for the second World War, which started when Bradman was 31. His slight 5ft 7in physique could not endure the rigours of Army training and an attack of frozen shoulder curtailed his wartime service.
                      He was back in the Adelaide nets by late 1946, but at the age of 38, and with further back problems it seemed that his form may have finally deserted him. His famed mental toughness was still inevidence however, though with the experience of his years, his apparent aloofness mellowed. a maturity in his captaincy was  also present as he tourd England once more in 1948 after a gap of 10 years.

                      Before a ball was bowled on that tour Don bradman made a speech so eloquent, so full of feelings for the suffering of the war, yet touched with humour, that the BBC delayed the nine o'clock news so that it could run its course; something that never even happened to Churchill. The result was sackfuls of mail, which it is said took him more than 6 hours simply to open. He had achieved the impossible, hero status in the hearts of the old enemy.
                      The tour was a personal success for Bradman both on and off the field. On it he completed his last century at Lord's on the vev of his 40th birthday, and immediately following his retirement at the end of the tour, he was Knighted.

                      So it would be natural to assume that fortune would follw fame for Australia's favourite son. The Don earned precisely nothing from his playing days. Cricket was then an amateur sport. A stockbroking enterprise that he had begun during the war years was to prove much more finacially rewarding, but his service to cricket endures to this day.
                      He was a selector almost uniterruptly from retirement until 1971, likewise an Australian cricket board member, and his advice is still eagerly sought on the game's major issues. These days with the integrity of cricket under increasing hreat from market forces it seems more important than ever that his views are aired.

                     On one occasion he was asked by a young , and certainly not shy, Dean jones how he would do against the England team of the day. The don contemplated a while before slowly replying that he might average around the 75 mark. At this point jones, who was enjoying a great summer with the bat and was averaging an incredible 65 in Test cricket himself, began to pump up like a frill-necked lizard. It was almost too much to believe that he was within coo-ee of the finest batsman there ever was. Sir Donald then coughed slightly and added "Mind you, I am over 80 years old now..."
                     And now he's over 90, but as he heads toward yet another century his life suffered its biggest setback.
                     When the care of his beloved Jessie through a long illness ended in her death from cancer in1997 his resilience was needed like never before. He resumed playing golf around the Kooyanga links, and even beat his age occasionally.
                     Around 1,300 cricketing luminaries from around the world converged on Adelaide for The Don's 90 birthday party, but the greatest batsman of all time spent the evenung at home with his family, sticking ti the values which have served him so well through his entire life.

                     If WG Grace could be said to be the player who popularised cricket, it could also be said that Sir Donald Bradman was the player who perfected it. the trouble is that no-one else has been able to reach his colossal standards.
 

                     Robert attended this meeting on our behalf. As you can imagine there was a lot of talk, some of it hot air, but most of it serious and to the point.

                     The main outcome is a structural change to the admnistration of the competition. There is a slimmed-down committee of 5 members, including our very own R-G M.
                     Against our better judgement he offered to take care of the scheduling for all KC matches. It has to be admitted that he has been making a pretty good job of it too, and within 10 days of the meeting he had completed the onerous task.
                     Not only this, R-G M has also prepared the Shizuoka schedule for practically the entire season. most sundays until the end of July are accounted for and, should any games be called off, they will be extremely difficult to re-schedule. Let's hope that this will encourage teams to stick to the games as planned and not pull out at the last moment, a situation that has dogged us in recent seasons.

                     The other main visible change is a procedural one, regarding the scoring of games. All players' names must be written in Full, and all batsmen must sign the scoresheet against thair names straight after the game. The scoresheet must then be sent to Biju Paul, the committee stastician, within 4 days of the match.

                     A new team has entered the KC, with the familiar name of Tokyo Giants, and the British Embassy and Gunma teams are set to return to the competition after missing last season.

                     Otherwise it's more or less business as usual. the contribution from each team has been raised from Yen 30,000 to Yen 45,000, but this includes balls, so the contribution is effectively unchanged. Our own AGM's policy of charging an extra Yen 500 for KC matches will go ahead as agreed.

                     So let the season begin.
 

                     Despite changes to the Kytes hierarchy Captain Slog is still around. The Sky Times editor was thankful that Slog's latest visit was accompanied by neither wailing nor chanting as he knocked softly on the office's door, before slowly entering and lowering himself in a seat.
                     The editor knew something was wrong when Slog declined the decaffeinated nettle tea in favour of a swig of Irish coffee with a generous slug of whiskey. and the season is barely under way.
                      "My Druids team has just had our annual St Patrick's Day fixture. We were stuffed by Cork Leprechauns 2nd XI. They ran rings round us."
                      "Why was that?" prodded Ed sympathetically; he knew the feeling only too well.
                      "Their skipper had a strategy, and he let all the other elves know about it." continued Slog, "Why don't we...?"
                      Slog's voice faded away as he rose from the seat, left the office, and made his way to the library in search of some Irish cricket books.
                      There was nothing on strateguy, but he did find something on "Pitch Preparation" by Shaun Browne, 'A Guide to Japanese Cricket Grounds' by Paddy Fields, and 'The Art of Sledging' by Seamus Orle.
                      Armed with this little lot we hope for a change in fortune for Stonehenge Druids CC.
 

                     The First Test (Answers)

                     1. 15 minutes
                     2. 10 minutes
                     3. No
                     4. On the field of play
                     5. Either captain
 

...........The amazing feat performed by India's Anil Kumble on Feb 8th this year in New Delhi, when he claimed all ten Pakistani 2nd innings wickets, was witnessed by Richard Stokes, a businessman from NE England, who could not believe his luck
                      In isolation this may not seem remarkable, but if it is added that he was also present at the Test match in manchester in 1956 to see Test cricket's only other ten-wicket haul (by Jim Laker for England against Australia) then the incredibility reaches humoungous proportions.
                      What is more, Feb 8th is also Mr. Stokes' birthday.

                      As we embark on the 15th season of cricketin Shizuoka, let's not forget that it is only the second season for the Sky times.

                      Should a nasty wet stain or two occasionally find its way onto your copy, please spare a thought for your embattled editor, up to his armpits in nappies, linament, talcum powder and yellow slime (not an alternative curry recipe), who would welcome any contributions in the form of reports, articles, letters, anecdotes or anything vaguely connected with Kytes cricket or its members.

                     Otherwise it's more or of the same dry sarcasm. laced with grammatical errors, and digs at Todd.

                     Contributions can be received:
                     a) by hand to R-G M or Slog
                     b) by fax to (054)-256-4417
                     c) by E-mail to: pat-chi@mve.biglobe.ne.jp
                     d) by mail to Dannyboy Dooley,
                         Toadstool heights
                         Blarneystone Estate
                         County cork
                         Eire