Brigands v Sons of Bacchus, 4 May 2025 - Jogo Bonito

Dave Henderson
May 5
2 min read

The Brazilian football team that won the 1970 World Cup in Mexico was probably the greatest team in the history of sport—better than the Chicago Bulls in the 1990s, the Arsenal Invincibles, any All Black rugby side, or the 1948 Australian cricket tourists featuring Sir Don Bradman.

It was the first football tournament to allow substitutes, the first held outside Europe or South America, and the first to be shown on colour TV. Their play reached a level that surpassed anything seen before. In six matches, they scored 19 goals of such quality it was more art than sport. It was the tournament when Pelé, aged 29 and at his prime, described football as “the beautiful game", or jogo bonito as the Portuguese newspaper headlines proclaimed.

At Broadhalfpenny Down this weekend, there was an unusual and vintage village cricket match against the Sons of Bacchus—an occasional team of strong cricketers from the south of England.

Lee Gray and Sam Sargant opened the bowling, and the first ten overs resembled a boxing match: a few jabs, a few punches landed, but no knockouts; the score was 40–1.

Neil Wood came on and picked up the wicket of Rob Walton after a stunning catch by Sargant at mid-on, who had stuck out a paw low to his right after running 15 yards. Everyone played their part in the field—even Gerry Northwood, who stood in the same spot on the western boundary for two hours.

Dave Turner’s first ball floated, bounced, and fizzed into the gloves of wicketkeeper Matt Saben-Clare. Dave Henderson picked up two wickets, Steve Blackburn another, and Wood—having changed ends—claimed three more wickets, aided by the Baltic wind at his back.

Sons of Bacchus scored 221 and were pleased heading into tea, which featured Lizzie Henderson’s homemade sausage rolls, Pam Burns’ cream-and-jam fluffy scones, and Hambledon Stores’ homemade cakes (including a genius Guinness cake).

Gray and Saben-Clare opened the batting and looked at ease from ball one. Cut shots, cover drives, and pulls came loose and rapid—like Monet brushstrokes on canvas. They found the gaps, offered no chances, and the busiest person at the ground was Ray Holyer, manning the scoreboard.

The target was 222, but the way the Brigands were playing, 333 might have been attainable—and even 444 if time permitted.

There was one Saben-Clare straight drive that felt like Brazil’s fourth goal in that epic match against Italy—you know the one, when Pelé lays it off to Carlos Alberto, who blasts the ball from the edge of the box into the top corner.

When the openers retired at drinks, Adam Jay and Jim Morris continued the onslaught: Jay balletic and nimble-footed, Morris swishing at anything wide of the stumps. They saw the Brigands home with an hour to spare.

The affable Hugo Hardman, playing on debut, asked, “Is it always this high standard?” to which captain Henderson replied, “Hardly ever,” and rephrased Brazilian defender Gérson's description of his team's performance in 1970 “Those who saw it, saw it. Those who didn’t will never see it again.”