All of a sudden eleven Kibworth cricketers had an appreciation of what Scott of the Antartic must have gone through nearly 100 years ago. It is almost impossible to describe the bone numbing cold on the bottom square that could have led some of the team to cheerfully take up Polar Bear racing instead. I am here to tell you, it was cold! Glen batted first. Messers Ainsworth and Gamble came with an aggressive mindset, if it was up there it was going, usually big and over to the legside. The usual bowling plan would have to be revisited if the score were to be kept to a sensible level. Where pace and bounce had failed it was time to take the pace off the ball. Tim Neal had shown it was possible to bowl dibble dobble at funerial pace and The Bard joined him from the other end to see if it was possible for the batsman to fall asleep in between delivery and arrival of ball. Wether through boredom or brilliant bowling the Great Glen line up wilted under the extremely sedate pressure. Tim got the party started by bowling Gamble, then the skipper bowled Ainsworth with one that trickled apologetically back onto the off peg. The Great Glen line up had been unhinged by more of a bouncing belly than a bouncing bomb but we had seen nothing yet. The very next ball a rank pie from the skipper was edged and taken one handed in the slip by Ken Pounds. It was turning into the mother of all red letter days for the Sunday XI. Glen ended up 103 all out. Somehow the skipper had taken four wickets, Tim Neal two and Steve Elwood two. It was a day for experience alright and grown men must have wept at the thought. 

 In reply Kibworth were rarely troubled in their pursuit of the runs and eventually got there with some 11 overs to go. The real contest though was against the elements, could victory be secured before hypothermia set in? Now I realise that you might consider all this talk of weather as being a bit, well, poofy, but if the cold causes your nipples to stiffen to the size of the eiffel tower you have a problem. Thankfully Harry Miller picked up the scoring rate and the defrosting could begin. It would be many hours before normal body temperature could be restored but it was a second win in three games which for the Sunday XI is about as rare as a pepper steak at a Vegeterian Society meeting. Heady days indeed