Some match reports call for the lyricism of Neville Cardus; others for the analytical mind of Mike Atherton; and still others for the lighter touch of Vic Marks or Simon Hughes. But this was a match best reported by Sigmund Freud, as Archive-on-Archive action shredded psyches and tested egos (and ids) left, right and centre. Roberts bowling at Mortimore; Kelley bowling at Roberts; Taylor bowling to Keatinge. Oh, and Mills bowling to Taylor…

2021 has not been a vintage year for the Archives. Scarcely even a vin de table year. Victory in the Handbags cannot sweeten the bitter draught of defeats to Chapelizod (twice), Malahide (twice), Fitzwilliam, Wicklow, DUMP (an eye-watering rout) and Papua New Guinea School for the Visually Impaired under-12s (2^nd XI).

But last Sunday at Oak Hill presented a final shot at redemption, as the Archives faced an understaffed Ashford side pimped with a pair of doughty Archivers (Roberts and Taylor). Surely the Archives could beat the Archives? Well, in a manner of speaking, yes.

In any just world, the blink-and-you’d-miss-it Taylor cameo would be the headline. Or perhaps the 27 runs accumulated by Keatinge facing the twin-pronged attack of Roberts and Taylor. But they were ultimately footnotes to a losing cause as Ashford got home with three overs, but only a single wicket, to spare. In the end, it came down to two moments of controversy (one which should perhaps have been a bit more controversial than it was), as well as the Steve Roberts show and a clatter of dropped catches.

Ashford only had 10 players a few days before the game, while the Archives had 14. The plan was that they would take 2 Archivers and we would play 12-a-side. Perhaps too generously, we offered them Roberts and Taylor (but in the light of a couple of facile wins at Ashford in previous years, it seemed about right). Then late Archives withdrawals made it an Ashford XII v Archives XI. Still, there were reasons to be optimistic: Walker, Wyatt, Kelley, Kerr, Mortimore was quite the quintet to start the batting (Keatinge – whose fielding I have promised not to mention – Tratalos and Bennett lurked menacingly down the order).

We finished at 145 all-out with a full over left to bat, Irwin and Kenny managing a single between them and Tratalos marooned on 11. When we ran out of batsmen (being a man short), Irwin was given a second life as the lowest scorer, but the second chance did not avail him at all. The seeds of the later controversy were sown here: did not the justice of the situation warrant the hard-done-by Mortimore returning? And if not, were we a shade generous later on?

But 145 was a defensible total and of that defence there is much good to be said: early wickets for Bennett with a devilish in-swinging yorker and Mortimore (two, one of them nicking – and breaking – the leg stump bail) set the tone for what looked likely to be an uncompromising reprise of last year’s victory. Tratalos completed two sharp stumpings off – I think – Kelley and Kerr (and a third, too, scratched off by the ‘free ball’ rule) as well a catch that Mills did his best to sabotage. Irwin completed a sharp run-out facilitated by a calm, almost serene, swoop and throw from Bennett at short cover. Kelley was deadly and mean. Kenny was tight. Irwin took a wicket too.

Wickets kept falling, but why did the overs seem to be going so slowly, while runs accumulated with alacrity? I am still not sure, but none of it would have mattered if we had taken our catches: Diplomacy Obviously Urges Generous chroniclers not to identify the dropper of three of the catches (while a fourth chance was put down at point).

One of the batsmen – dropped in single figures – went on to retire. That was the match right there. However, the maths still seemed to marginally favour the Archives: Ashford kept losing wickets and they were not getting too far ahead of the required rate. As the latter third of the game progressed, one more breakthrough would have won the day: yet Roberts remained unmoved. Only after he retired was there another glimmer of hope.

And, lo, came the day that had been foretold: Taylor did bestride the crease. And, behold, Mills was anointed to bowl. And Taylor spake terrible blasphemies about the bowling of Mills and Taylor readeth not the ball out of the hand, nor readeth he the ball off the pitch and nor did he strike it and thus did Mills smite him from on high: Taylor b Mills 0(2). And thus did the mighty fall and thus did the Archives mightily rejoice.

The rest of the Director’s single over was rather spoilt by the leaking of half a dozen runs. But now, it appeared, only the tail remained with 15 runs outstanding and Kerr and Mortimore having overs to bowl. And here a funny thing happened: rather than the Ashford skipper coming out to bat as he was slated to do, they sent out one of their lowest scorer for a second go. But their lowest scorer was no duffer; true, he was a hit-and-hope merchant, but if he hit, we would lose (indeed, Taylor, having faced fewer balls for a duck was probably the man who should have returned, assuming there was any basis at all for someone other than the appointed batsman coming to the middle).

And the hit-and-hope merchant hit. In the 21^st over, he latched onto captain Kerr’s bowling. Again. And again. In the blink of any eye it was over.

Tight margins. Great company. The most beautiful ground in Ireland. Some great cricket (Tratalos must have pushed Kelley close for Man of the Match; and Keatinge would surely have been a contender too, except for the three events that it would be churlish to mention). A wonderful way to end the Archives’ year. At least as far as Steve and Wade are concerned.