I played cricket for the Lord’s Taverners in Scotland skippered by Mike Denness, the last Scotsman to Captain England, at least we hope...... Anyway, as you will read I was done out of the Man of the Match Trophy and it still hurts

Haggisgate

Our trip to Scotland is not for the faint-hearted. After a Friday evening flight we look at our gift packs and notice more than one small bottle of the local malt. We settle in for a Scottish evening of food and drink – especially drink.

My other half, Laura, was revelling in her position as the Lady Tavs Senior Land-based Pan’s People Member - the other was, at that point, clinging to a mast in the South Atlantic – and was becoming a little too confident for her own good.

At midnight, as we debated whether we would have another dram, and if we did, who would pay, she gave forth with helpful advice based on her scrutiny of the goody bags we had been given.. “Why don’t you all go back to your rooms,” she said, “and get out your little miniatures?”

There was a pause, a shriek of realisation and all hell broke loose – even a Scotsman bought a round after that. Mind you, my reputation was not enhanced among my team-mates.

Saturday sees us play cricket, followed by a major bash at the local golf club and the Gavin Hastings Classic the next day.

I can’t remember who won the golf but it wasn’t me. I do recall the cricket.

As the baby of the side, Mike Denness rightly spotted my superb fitness and after using my flight and guile to good effect, actually brought me back for a second spell – unheard of in Taverner games. Needless to say I rose to the occasion by skittling out their top men. All stumped. Figures of 3 for 44. Wheel on the Man of the Match Trophy.

However, at the end of the game, a draw incidentally due to the slow batting of an elderly actor called John Alderton, Captain Denness, who had clearly been got at, awarded the basket of McHarrods goodies to the said elderly actor! Now I admit he scored 37 more runs than me. Pardon? Yes, he scored 37 actually and took two wickets, one of whom was trying to get out. But what about the man who blew away the top order ?

The rest of the week-end was miserable with Alderton waving his basket at me and offering me various tins of Scotch Broth from his ill-gotten gains. I told him to stick it where you won’t find a tin opener.

Meanwhile, we await an investigation into the whole tawdry affair by the Audit Committee. Watch this space in the next edition for the full story of Haggisgate..