Brigands v Invalids, 7 June 2026

Brigands CC
Jun 9
4 min read

In the summer of 1919, a poet called J.C. Squire rounded up a group of writers, journalists, and actors and told them they were going to play cricket. He named his team the Invalids, in honour of several players wounded in the Great War. For their colours, he chose hospital blue and old gold, the shades of the pyjamas worn by officers convalescing in military hospitals, those pale wards where men lay in bed and waited to either recover or not.

A.G. Macdonell watched Squire's men with the eye of a satirist and in 1933 published England, Their England, a comic novel containing the funniest description of a cricket match ever written that featured a side called The Invalids. The club is still going, still wandering, and still wearing hospital blue and old gold.

The Invalids arrived at Broadhalfpenny Down this past Sunday, a ground that has seen rather a lot of cricket, and its fair share of bowler-friendly pitches.

A week of rain had left the surface under the covers in the condition cricketers describe as a "sticky pudding"; the ball stopping, gripping, and occasionally turning square.

As the two captains walked out for the toss, one of the players warming up shouted, "Which one of you will call correctly and bowl first?"

The Invalids were invited to bat and started cautiously. Neil Wood bowled economically, Rob Manson was rewarded with an early LBW, and the athletic Dave Turner was stopping everything behind the stumps. With the score 30-1, on came Wayne Viney.

Viney is Australian, and had written to the Brigands a month earlier asking to play as a guest before a Seniors tour, mentioning that he could "bowl a bit". In Australian, this translates as: capable of sending down two consecutive maidens while reducing the Invalids to statues.

The pitch helped. The fielding did not. Five catches went down, varying in difficulty from the optimistic to the straightforward. When Dave Henderson dropped an easy chance at cover, Jim Morris came over to share how much better he felt having dropped the same batter a few minutes before.

The Invalids had their own international guest. Billy Roth had flown in from Arizona, where he is a medical student, to play his first game of cricket. Roth is a former amateur baseball player and arrived at the crease with the demeanour of someone who had never taken guard and he did not see any reason to start now. He stood tall, adopted something between a batter's and a pitcher's stance, and swung hard. There were a couple of mishits, a quick single that brought warm applause from both sides, then a slow straight delivery that trickled quietly onto the middle stump. You sensed the affable Roth would be back.

The Invalids accumulated 163 all out from almost 42 overs, with a fine Owen Walton fifty and Williamson and Peters putting on 32 for the last wicket. Rafi Abdeen finished with 4-47 and a direct hit run out from mid-on, Manson 2-31, Viney 1-36, and Guy Ladenburg 1-24.

William Morris was known for iconic floral wallpaper and fabrics. Old Tom Morris was legendary for winning major golf championships with just five clubs in his bag. Justine Morris is famous for her splendid teas, including sausage rolls with sesame seeds, juicy strawberries, dainty scones, and delicious egg sandwiches served on Emma Bridgewater pottery. Tea was enjoyed by the officials, including elite scorer Ray Holyer who turned up with only one working arm having injured himself on the golf course, and the implacable umpire Nick Harris.

The Brigands' reply began briskly and deteriorated promptly.

Williamson and Abdol are regular bowlers at this ground and they know what the pitch gives them. Opening with Ladenburg and Wood, the Brigands were 18-3 before anyone had properly settled, Williamson repeatedly finding the top of off stump.

On came the Waltons: father, slow left-arm, five feet nine; son, fizzing off-breaks, six feet four. The height differential was attributable to “years in the United Arab Emirates, where a diet heavy in hormone-treated meat and daily swimming had helped the kids grow".

More wickets fell. Gerry Northwood caught at slip. Paul Whittle clean-bowled, the score on 74-7.

Henderson was still there. He had been given out earlier when the sound of bat on boot was interpreted as bat on ball, but the Invalids sportingly withdrew the appeal without drama. His fifty arrived in 56 balls with just six boundaries, most of it accumulated in ones and twos on a pitch that punished anything rash.

With 42 needed off eight overs, the rash shot came and he was LBW to Tim Peters. Soon after, Abdeen and the obdurate Viney followed, and the Invalids won a well-fought match.

Afterwards, both sides sat around the Bat and Ball Inn, with wives and girlfriends, brothers and sisters, and dogs too. Where cricketers have been arguing about line and length, the state of the pitch, and the future of the game for 250 years. A New Year's Day fixture in 2029 was proposed and agreed. Looking around the tables, you could not tell who was an Invalid and who was a Brigand. Except, of course, by the colour of the caps.

Invalids 163 all out beat Brigands 121 all out, by 42 runs