THE LIFE & TIMES
of KEITH ROSCOE
As one's time at the crease grows short as retirement
beckons. It's time to reflect on the twenty seasons (including
this one if I get there) at Bacup Road. I remember my debut as
if it were yesterday, 21st April1985 Rishton at home. Peter Wood
the Skipper, a team brimming with characters, BA Manning behind
the timbers, Glen "Desperate Dan" Barlow, who could
put a game out of reach in the first 7 overs (awesome at times),
Phil Pickles the ultimate practical joker and no mean batter,
to boot. John Swanney, Brian Payne, along with PG Wood in the
early middle order. I seem to recall we had a Sub-pro called Devon
something? A West Indian, left arm spinner, nice lad, but quite
a long tail. Me nine, J Beaumont 10 and AJ "womb" Farnworth
at 11, not that they couldn't bat, they tended to defer to me
especially if Hartley Alleyne or some other random quicky was
on the warpath! (John's trademark shots, the umbrella open umbrella
closed tended not to work quite so effectively against the quicker
stuff) I remember the day being dank, dark and cold but we cheered
the home crowd with a comfortable win.
The memories that really stick are the bizarre and
brilliant batting performances, rather than bowling performances.
I'll take you forward to season '86, we had Tony Merrick, who
was one of the sharpest I'd ever seen the season before, but because
we would not release him from his contract to join Warks '86 was
totally different. During the week he would play County Second
XII cricket and knock everyone over, come back to Rocky and get
pummelled around the park. This was one such occasion. Tod at
home, Daryl Scott an accomplished performer from South Australia,
lashed our lad all over the park, Tod finishing on 184 for 7.
He then had the audacity to reduce us to 69 for 9 taking 5 for
24 and on for a bowling collection. Last man in was me, I joined
Neil "Cheesy" Chadwick at the crease. First ball I played
and missed, down the wicket he came "Ah look Ted it's a ferret,
they come in after the rabbits, don't run him out he's mine!"
Next ball he pitched it a little further up, obviously hadn't
been privy to my cover drive, one bounce 4. "You jammy c***!
Bet you can't do that again" "how much" came my
reply "A pint you t***" "Righto" Next ball
an attempted Yorker off stump, dispatched through extra all along
the floor like a tracer bullet. He stood there in shock and awe
as I cantered up the wicket. "That'll be a pint then!"
You f****** cheeky b******, you've just robbed me of my second
collection" "It's still a pint" was the retort.
Didn't stop there, Daryl was taken off next over and Chaddy &
I put on 40 for the 10th wicket, lost by 80 odd, but sent the
crowd home entertained. That was the highest score I achieved
for Rocky, 23 holed out at long off, ambition definitely getting
the better of execution, but at least Scotty, true to his word,
had a beer waiting for me in the bar.
Another match springs to mind was on another dark dank
day, where we entertained Rishton at Bacup Road, in 1987. Viv
Richards was their Pro. A very large crowd had amassed to watch
this game with Uncle Viv playing on the smallest ground in the
league, so pundits thought he might score 200 or 250 or even 300
on his own. Not to be! He eased to 25 in no time, 3 bullet-like
fours and two nonchalant 6's
..oh and a cheeky single. Brian
Terry decided to change the bowling and I was instructed to bowl
from the Pavilion end. After patting back the first two, Viv decided
he had seen enough, advanced down the wicket and lofted the next
delivery onto the "gatehouse" He then swaggered down
to meet me and said "Hey mon, I didn't miggle dat one"
Oh s*** I thought, he's right, he didn't. Next ball, I thought
I'd surprise him with the "arm ball", thinking if it
was short he'd only hit it for four (a type of moral victory).
Anyway it wasn't short and did everything it says on the tin,
pitched, jagged back, Viv went to cut it, got a thin top edge,
it hit Barney on the heel of the hand, looped over Mr Richards,
Barney as nimble as a ballerina, pirouetted and caught the thing.
Loud appeal ensued from the pair of us. Viv eased back on his
bat as if to say not out Umpire. Barney and I looked at the Umpire
for what seemed like an age, then he raised the digit of doom,
Viv was no more, caught Barnes, bowled Roscoe 31. (A large groan
from the crowd, world championship disco dancing from Barney and
me) After the over the top celebrations, and half the crowd disappearing
back home, the Umpire asked "what would you have done if
I `d given him not out" "I'd have booked you a bed in
Bury General" was the reply (not the best riposte I have
to admit) To say I didn't get another decision all day would not
be stretching the point, not that I didn't get another wicket
but you can hardly not give someone out who's caught at backward
point "not out"
Forward two or three seasons and the 29th July 1990
stands out in my memory. Enfield had reached this point in the
season and had secured only one, yes one point. This was due to
be taken off them because it was for a no-result and the games
were scheduled to be replayed. So they arrived at Bacup Road,
not only winless, but also pointless.
Enfield's Pro was Aussie Chris Killen, on his day quite
a handful, but tended to be a tad wayward. Not good news for us,
this was his day or at least the first quarter of it was. He had
us immediately in trouble, first over he hit Glen Barlow in the
jaw, so he's off to hospital, for an x-ray (suspected broken jaw).
Next over Mick Dennevey bowls a very youthful Andy Payne, 5 for
1 effectively 5 for 2. Colin Miller scratched around for 11 then
Killen does him with a thunderbolt 33 for 2 (3). Ste Tattersall
goes the same way for a single 40 for 3 (4). Then Dennevey gets
in on the act and has John Kershaw caught behind for 24, 61 for
4 (5). Then Brian Payne is hit on the hand and retires 68 for
4 (6). Brian Terry next out for 3, 76 for 5 (7). Bret Storey next
in, the dressing room is not a happy place to be. Then Bob Holmes
is caught behind off Killen for 7, 77 for 6 (8). So I dons my
helmet just about to walk out the door when hears this "
I can bat with one hand better than that bugger can with two"
Brian Payne was about to re-enter the arena, fine by me I thought!
14 runs came in a flash, only two off the bat mind. Then Bret
got another thunderbolt, I can remember passing him on the way
to the wicket, he was giggling profusely, I didn't know if it
was nervous or just relief, but I was about to find out. Eighteen
overs gone and we were 91 for 7 (8). Looked likely they not only
would secure their first point but win as well. What happened
in the next 70 minutes was literally beyond fiction. Paynie ably
supported by yours truly. Quelled the beast and the further into
the spell Killen got, the slower and easier to pick off he became.
I was content just to milk him for ones, Paynie took the attack
to him. After creaming him through the cover, Paynie shouted to
me "Tell him I'm sorry" So I passed the message on "He
says he's sorry Chris" "The f****** will be! Tell him
I'm gonna break his other hand, tell him!" "Ok Chris,
Paynie he's not having it, alright"
With 10 overs of our innings left, Glen returned from hospital,
not broken was the prognosis, so I did expertly extra cover driving
Dennevey through the vacant slip area for 4. First ball next over
Paynie got a single, so I decided to take on Chris Killen, picked
the wrong ball, yorked leg stump. The pair of us, and extras had
moved the total up to a respectable 145 for 8. Glen didn't last
long, caught behind next over. Barney then joined Paynie and the
two saw out the remaining overs and posted a competitive 161 for
9, with Paynie finishing on 49 not out. He had the chance of 50
but the last ball was the leg stump Yorker that almost broke his
foot, and he hobbled up the other end for a leg bye.
The rest is history, Colin Miller destroyed their batting
taking 7 for 39 ably supported by Bob Holmes 3 for 5. Enfield
93 all out and still pointless!
6the June 1992 East Lancs away second round Worsley
Cup. Having won the toss and elected to field we stuffed the home
side out for 134. Now let me set the scene, Tony Dodemaide cuts
one off me, through backward point, down towards the score box,
the chasers are Glen Barlow, cover and Bob Holmes backward point.
There were a few bawdy home supporters down in that region. So
when Glen and Bob started the chase a chorus of "Roll out
the barrel" struck up. As Glen pulled it up just before the
boundary., the air was blue, "who are you set of b******s
singing that for" shouted Glen. "Him behind you"
came the reply. "oh that's alright then, sorry" said
Glen, leaving Bob looking non too pleased.
To say we made a pig's ear of the run chase, would
be an understatement. We got to 109 for 5 and then the wheels
fell off. Holmesy comes out to bat and the crowd started again
chanting "you're too fat to bat, you're too fat to bat"
Not happy by this attention and even more exasperated by his demise
at 112, next thing I'm out in the middle and I see Bob walking
very purposefully towards the section of the crowd that had been
joshing him. The game stops as Bob politely inquires if any of
the male members of the party would like to join him in a spot
of pugilism. No takers! Too fat to bat, might be but too fat to
fight certainly not! Oh by the way 118 all out, rubbish! We gained
our revenge eleven years later, when nobody gave us a price.
Hope you've enjoyed this snapshot of anecdotes and
recollections, most are forgotten, some aren't, like my old mate
Jimmy Heyworth always says "memories are better than dreams!"
Kes