Many big sporting events can be a huge anti-climax, few then could match the headache causing, gut wrenching tension that accompanied the closing stages of 
this epic encounter. At the end it was difficult to raise the energy to leave your seat and move toward the presentation ceremony. 

A fleet of coaches ferried hundreds of fans to the capital, all determined to shout and drink their opposite numbers into submission. Let me tell you dear reader that the contest 
off the park was the biggest mismatch since Big Daddy took on the bloke from the Mr Muscle adverts over 2 falls, 2 submissions or a knockout. We can only presume 
the alarm clocks in suburban Kent didn't work on this particular morning as St Johns Wood turned a shade of Kibworth green. 

 As much as an honour it is to play at Lords you could be forgiven for thinking that HQ didn't really want to know. The match was on the last strip on the square, so close that a fielder 
on the edge of the circle could legitimately be called a sweeper. The track itself was a bit like your old Grandma, low and slow and wouldn't bounce when 
hitting the floor. To be honest it really wasn't an auspicious sign. 

 However the good news was that the Almighty wanted a game and sent a perfect late Summer day to top up tans for the spectators. Bromley won 
the toss and decided to bat which surprised some of the sages in the crowd who warned that batting in dewy conditions could spell disaster, in the early stages 
the old boys were so nearly proved right. 

 Aamir hit his straps pretty early on and bowled a beauty down the hill to send the off stump cartwheeling, at 12 for 2 and 30 for 3 the optimism gauge amongst the Kibby followers rose 
along with the noise which probably had some of the ancient member in the pavilion harking back to the monastic silence of the good old days of Compton, 
Godfrey Evans and John The Baptist. 

 You expect any decent side to rally at some point and subsequently two large obstacles appeared in sight. The first was former Kent, Sussex and England batsman Alan Wells who hit a classy 64 which 
was only hindered by an injury sustained in taking a quick single. The second was literally a large obstacle in James Watson. There are few men on a cricket 
field who can make Steve Thompson look like a seven stone weakling but this chap did, an absolute bear of a man who was promptly dubbed 'Hagrid' by the Kibworth 
Wideboys (although not as wide as James Watson, obviously). 

 The rescue act that Watson and Wells performed enable Bromley to escape to a defendable, but not imposing 179 all out. Simon Renshaw returned to polish off the tail with 
5 balls remaining as a second spell from Aamir was not required. 

 Kibworth's reply stuck at around 3 an over but with wickets in hand the concern was not undue around the ground. However when both openers 
were lost in quick succession to LBW decisions that appeared debateable the door was ajar for Bromley whose bowling was tight throughout. Quite what the normally 
stoic Sunny did to deserve the mother of all send offs is unclear and perhaps John Hanger should get an amplifier for the edge of his bat to aid errant 
umpires. 

 It was widely acknowledged to be a 'grafters' wicket and new batsman found timing difficult, each wicket slowed the momentum. The low, or was 
it non existent bounce, did for Josh Cobb and he wasn't the only one. Perhaps Bromley did know what they were doing when they won the toss after 
all. 

 The equation came down to 27 off 18 balls. 'Biffa' Mason lived up to his name and 17 were scored off the next six but Kibworth's fortunes had 
peaked. Tim went for one swipe too many against the returning Braithwaite and was cleaned up, Russ Spiers went the same way too. As feared by many the game 
was destined to go to the legendary last ball shoot out. 

 Whether correctly or not the perceived wisdom in the crowd was that a tied game would mean a Kibworth win on wickets lost. Kibworth needed then four off the last 
ball, six to be flash. The man of the moment was Chris Hill who received quite the loudest roar you have heard in your life. His advantage was that his left 
hand stance opened up the short legside boundary for a midwicket swipe. Everyone knew that a clean connection, and a bit of luck, would mean glory. 

 As the bowler began his run up I couldn't shake the image in my mind of Eddie Hemmings spanking John Lever to the boundary in a one day final in the 1980's. 
That was a story book finish, we just needed a repeat. 

 The bowler was no mug. He pitched it outside off stump so that Chris would have to drag it a long way but drag it he did. The ball soared out towards the Kibworth hordes in 
the and for a split second it was possible. However coming out of the shadows on the boundary came Ruel Braithwaite to pouch the catch on the boundary to breaks 
hundreds of Kibworth hearts. 

 The walk across the turf to the pavilion was gut wrenching, to have to clap the winners which up until 5 minutes previously looked likely to be your team. Then 
we got there, we saw the Kibworth team sitting shell shocked in front of the pavilion and it became easy to find your voice once more. The murmur to greet the 
winners was drowned out by the roar received by Andy Smith as he picked up his momento. 

 The voices sang in defiance back onto the coaches and for a large part of the journey back up the M1 to Kibworth. The pain of defeat was real enough but you had to be 
there to feel it, in Bromley's moment of triumph who was there to share it with them?