As our world has evolved rapidly in recent times there are many species that have become endangered to the point of extinction. As a result of what man calls "progress" we see things that we once took for granted drift towards extinction –consigned to memory and mythology.
Man’s folly. It also applies to an increasingly rare sight of The Tea Lady (TEALADIUS FANTASTICUS) – as numbers dwindle at the pavilions of the Wheatsheaf County.
Unlike your average village slogger (CRICKTUS IGNORANTE) which is essentially a pack animal Tea Ladies can be solitary or operate as part of a group due to their high level of social skills. But now they are increasingly rare, while the Great British Bake Off becomes a national institution, a home-made Victoria sponge on match day is now rarer than a Black Rhino saying how happy they are with the customer service at Npower.
It’s a lot more COSTCO than GBBO these days.
It’s not that they are not around anymore – occasional sightings are still reported – and they remain easy to identify, fiercely protective of their territory, outwardly jovial but not to be crossed over the strength of the tea or the availability of jam other than strawberry – and ready to strike – a cobra coiled waiting to hear a certain phrase, usually from a younger player daring to start a sentence with ‘have we not got…’
Fleet of foot and dexterous she is more than a match for the pack in white meandering to their weekly the feeding ground to devour sandwiches of various flavours, sausages, quiche (its Cheshire after all), strange cold pasta accompanied by salad and the obligatory bowls of cherry tomatoes and sliced onion. These guys are not looking to hand out Michelin stars but no one can doubt their commitment their favourite sort of cuisine.
As they feign good manners and then push in at the very front saying ‘Opposition first guys’ you can hear the regular trade mark cries of delight. Simple creatures in their natural habitat.
‘I do love a good pork pie’ This phrase is often accompanied by Crickitus Ignorate holding the pork quarter up to the light like the man from Del Monte would an Orange .
‘Drumsticks!’ and he’s misty eyed looking at the tea lady like a man who’s watched Toy Story 3 on the eve of taking his son to Uni for the first time.
‘Much better than your lousy effort last week [insert team members name]’
There is always mayonnaise – this is provided primarily to give someone a chance to ask if we have any salad cream and for their card to be marked accordingly.
For those with a sweet tooth Tealadius Fantasticus produces delicious homemade varieties of scone served with clotted cream, cake (Lemon Drizzle & the aforementioned Victoria Sponge are in the Pantheon) and ideally the kind of flapjacks used by Polar explorers to help them to 10,000 calories a day - with a the added bonus of a few sultanas that, for the Villager is one of his five a day (among the other four are spring onion crisps flavoured crisps).
For you average villager it’s essentially quality ballast. The tea is integral to the experience – it’s cultural, ceremonial and calorific.
What other sport could see its nutrition have a pork pie as its centrepiece?
But maybe these days are numbered unless Walking with Dinosaurs becomes Baking with Dinosaurs.
We didn’t help with the washing up, we left our plates outside and took offence when we asked for 4 sugars and were given one (for our own good). Maybe we just haven’t evolved quickly enough and the world has moved on.
Are the halcyon days behind us? Are the flapjacks and scones that provided the foundation of the nation slipping into history?
At the selection meeting one of the major dilemmas the committee has to face is not "will he slot in nicely at 4?" But "do you think he would do a tea?”
Post meeting, the player is told , he will slope away home with the heavy heart of a man condemned to the gallows as he ponders how he’s really going to man up to such a big job.
If he’s one of the younger players his devotion to the game means that he is, perhaps unlikely to enjoy regular female company – but if Mum is nearby he is not quite on his own. But while he’s watched the Bear Grylls box set and thinks he could cut it on a desert island, the truth is he doesn’t know a frosting on a cake from a frosty morning.
If he’s further on in his life he might be able to wangle wife/girlfriend help which he will shamelessly abuse by saying those tell-tale weasel words ‘I did most of it myself’.
From this point the tea solution goes one of two ways.... There is the No Expense Spared "I'm only doing one this season" Tea.
Purchased sandwich platters with party sized cakes and buckets of biscuits. Chicken legs bulk bought and cooked on the morning of the game alongside 300 party sausage rolls and accompanied with numerous bowls of prepared green salad stripped from the shelves of the supermarket as a last minute concession to the healthy eater. If melons are two for one in Morrison’s he might add something healthy. He might just pass muster with a throw the kitchen sink at it approach. If in doubt, increase your portions.
Alternatively there is the "They won't ask me again after this effort" or "I'm not going over the £35 budget" Tea. The signs that we are getting one of these is the sighting of 6 French sticks that you need to cut yourself and bags of crisps that stay in the bags for serving.
Jammy dodgers are then washed down with black tea because the pillock because he didn’t even buy the milk.
So how do we cling on to the last remnants of the golden age of cricket teas? Can we wind back the clock?
We can sweet talk and try to establish a relationship between ‘volunteering’ and little Johnny getting picked, we can start a national campaign, get Tea Ladies on some sort of endangered list and get Greenpeace to chain themselves to something (out of the batsman’s vision). We need to a strategy to avoid extinction, we need to look after them, nurture them and most importantly create an environment that matches their high standards. Now we have never known a village club that has listed the purchase of cleaning products on their annual accounts, but re-population probably needs a few antibacterial sprays being bought – and used. The alternative..
…and this is going to shock some people.
We could give it a go ourselves.
The world has moved on. We need to evolve or die. When you say Ladies now the word that follows is Team not Teas. A woman’s place is on the field.
So if you are ready, grab your Hairy Bikers cookbook and we’ll begin.
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