Handbags, that most eccentric of Taverner’s tournaments, is unusual in that the teams must play not once, but twice in a single day — a stern test of endurance for any cricketer of convivial persuasion. Director Mills had issued strict orders that no-one was to pick up so much as a paper cut in the run-up to the day, nor indeed during it. Fine words they were – but alas, Taylor promptly ignored them by injuring himself in the very first match. Reay, captain-elect for the second game and full of running, compounded matters by hobbling himself whilst scampering for the stricken Taylor earlier on, and Bennett, being nothing if not a team man, duly followed suit.

Thus, with Reay incapacitated, the captaincy was thrust upon a thoroughly unsuspecting Goldstein – not because of any burning desire for leadership, you understand, but because he wasn’t there when the decision was made. A choice of Machiavellian brilliance, giving the selectors a perfect “scape-ferret” should Dalkey Archives (“Dalkey”) resume their traditional Handbags path to inevitable defeat.

The second match XI was cobbled together from whoever had arrived and whoever was still mobile from the first game. Tan, in a moment of clerical generosity, was selected twice, but this happy error was soon corrected, allowing Deepak, erstwhile substitute, to make his first full Handbags debut.

Naturally, Goldstein lost the toss, and the Theatrical Cavaliers (“Cavs”) invited Dalkey to bat. With stirring instructions to “smash absolutely everything, please,” Werner and Tan opened the batting.

Werner, still smarting from his earlier failure, set about the bowling with rare savagery, racing to his retirement on 20 from just 10 deliveries. In came Supreeth, who, in a blistering cameo of seven balls, also retired, his effort graced by an overthrown five. Dalkey’s 50 arrived in a mere four overs.

Next, Tratalos joined the fray. Tan, having anchored the innings so sensibly, suddenly abandoned restraint and retired on 23, finishing with a monstrous six. Enter the Director himself. A promising partnership began, only for calamity to strike when Tratalos, ignoring a straightforward second run, announced that he too was injured and required a runner. The Cavs, sporting fellows, permitted this despite ICC laws to the contrary — though the point became moot when Tratalos promptly edged Gillespie to the keeper.

The Director, after surviving a most optimistic appeal, retired on 21 from a sedate 18 balls. And lo, in just 12 overs, Dalkey had compiled 107 – a total which, only hours earlier, had taken the full 20 overs to amass.

Onwards the procession went. Shailesh perished in the deep to Stott off O’Connor; Ramam, full of strokes, holed out to the same fielder off Barrington; and when Deepak hobbled to the middle, yet another runner was summoned. Sajomon was stumped, having danced past S. Duggan, and Keatinge – Deepak’s erstwhile runner – took over with aplomb. By the end, Dalkey had soared to 150/8, what is thought to be the highest total in their Handbags history, and quite possibly in anyone’s – though our resident historian’s credibility was, as ever, open to question.

Now to the reply. Keatinge opened the bowling with a teasing delivery, inducing a thick edge that was regrettably spilt. Tan followed, troubling the batsmen immediately, and then, with a neatly held caught-and-bowled, removed S. Duggan for 2. A carousel of bowlers followed – “the devil’s own work,” some muttered – but it worked wonders, for Deepak, injury notwithstanding, bowled the dangerous Stott for 12, leaving the Cavs floundering.

With the field fortified by A. Mills, most able replacement for the struggling Deepak, the Director bowled Barrington for 11, while Werner delivered the rarity of a Taverner’s maiden. Cavs, though losing only three wickets and with D. Duggan and Roets retired, finished 40 runs short. Dalkey, triumphant at last!

Dinner was taken, as only Taverners can, and attention turned to Cavs versus Merrion. Merrion, batting first, mustered only 96, the Cavs bowlers in fine form. By virtue of their earlier thrashing of the Cavs, Dalkey still had a chance at the overall Handbags title. But the calculations – aided by statisticians, actuaries, apps, chicken bones, and tea leaves – were somewhat opaque. If the Cavs were to seize the Cup, they would have to polish off the 96 in no more than twelve overs. A gallop, rather than a chase – and one that left Dalkey hovering hopefully on the boundary of possibility.

The Cavs began brightly, the first ball caressed to the ropes. But Merrion’s bowling, stacked and sharp, brought a regular tumble of wickets, and after 12 overs, Cavs were in deep trouble. Their bid for the was over, but could they prevent Merrion from taking the cup? Then came Meehan, the Cav’s number nine, striding out to the immortal cry, “this is how Handbags heroes are made!” ringing behind him.

Merrion’s discipline wavered, wides and long hops abounded, but their captain Purdy revealed his ace: their best bowler, himself injured earlier. The climax came with Cavs needing 11 from 18 balls. Tension soared: 11 off 18… 7 off 11… 4 off 7… then a pair of wides… and finally, Meehan drilled a glorious straight drive for four to seal Cavs’ win. Hero he was.

But had the tight finish been enough to propel Merrion ahead of Dalkey? Our historian, with customary gravitas, assured us it was ten years to the very weekend since Dalkey’s first triumph — a fine tale, until the records inconveniently revealed a first victory in 2013. What could not be disputed, however, was that five long years had slipped by since Dalkey last raised the Cup — an eternity in Handbags time.

The net run rates were calculated – amid stiff drink and ever more elaborate rituals – and when the dust settled, the drought was over. As the evening shadows lengthened, Captain Goldstein, with the Director and A. Mills at his side, lifted the trophy high. Dalkey, glorious once more! And to crown the day, the Cavs awarded Werner Man of the Match for his fireworks with the bat and parsimony with the ball.

[Written by Russel Goldstein]