I've often heard the expression 'You'll be able to tell your grandchildren about that.' I've just the one granddaughter, Johan, who lives in France , and I can imagine her asking me 'Grandpère Stu, qu'est-ce que tu faisais Samedi le treize Septembre 2008?'

I would stroke my beard and ruminate. 'Le treize Septembre, 2008? Eh bien, ma petite, c'est vrai, j'etais là, au Vignoble, Milverton, cet après-midi.' Given the child's English is as good as her French, I would carry on, comme Maurice Chevalier, 'Ah yes, I remember it well.'

I was going to travel to the opening of the Hadron Collider at CERN, but the return flight from Geneva wouldn't have got me back in time. The Scouse Gits v The Red Scum at Anfield? Too many overpaid dagos and east Europeans (watching and playing!).

I toyed with the idea of going over to the Albert Hall for the Last Night of the Proms, but all those chinless wonders and public school twerps in the audience would have turned my stomach. Mind you, the French pianist had a very pretty little btm but, unfortunately, she spent most of her time sitting on it.

What about the Wallabies v the All Blacks from Brisbane ? Thirty hefty South Sea Islanders putting themselves about? Not really my thing. Mind you, umpires Gordon Black and Marty Block let us watch the first half, saying that the surrounds were too wet to start before twelve noon.

This didn't go down too well with The Hills groundsman, a Mr Dwyer, who let everybody know that he'd been there since eight that morning bursting his b****s to get the place ready, only for some b*****s from Dublin to say that it was too wet.

I was happy to tuck into Eimear Kitteringham's scones, especially the ones with strawberries and cream on. The buttered ones with currants in were nearly as good. Who needs breakfast when there's a delayed start at Milverton? That noisy Mr Dwyer was as good as a kettle, the amount of steam coming out of his ears.

But at noon, Jeremy Bray and Patrick Byrne walked out to bat for The Hills, who'd lost the toss and been inserted by André Botha, captain of North County, in this WMK Senior A league match, reduced to 46 overs which, whatever the result, would have a major effect on the destiny of the League title and, much more importantly, would determine bragging rights in the Merry Cricketer for the entire winter.

André bowled the first over, up the hill, and then Denver D'Cruz came down the hill to Patrick Byrne. Second ball he tucked off his legs and took two to Dwayne Harper at fine leg. John Mooney gave out yards to Dwanyne for talking to some old git on the boundary instead of paying attention to his fielding.

I didn't feel so bad about it when Patrick lost his off stump to the next delivery. Barry Archer wasn't available, having to attend a family bereavement, so Mike Baumgart came in at no. 3, and dug himself in. He and Jeremy played without much alarm, saw off Botha and D'Cruz, and turned their attentions to Harper and Eddie Richardson.

The score had reached 40, when Bray called Baumgart through for a quick single to short extra. The Kiwi was back on his heels, and beaten by John Boy's quick pick-up and direct hit, a needless dismissal. Dwayne and Eddie were their usual generous selves with wides, but when they got it in the right place it was good.

On 61 Max Sorensen played too soon at one from Harper that stopped and lifted, and chipped a catch to the forward swooping Reinhardt Strydom at widish slip. On 75 Albert van der Merwe drove uppishly at Harper to give a return catch. (All these strange Fingal names, not to mention Kitteringham and Maypother!)

Things went from bad to worse when, on 84, Bray (39) forced a short ball from Harper towards extra cover, and Botha took an excellent catch low to his right. Three runs later Michael O'Herlihy edged Mooney into the safe hands of Brian Shields at slip.

Mark Dwyer, the groundsman's son (and such a nice lad – he must take after his mother), ground it out for another ten overs with skipper Luke Clinton, but the ton took a long time to come up, and the sesqui-ton seemed unreachable.

Now and then Mark Dwyer thumped a boundary with a minimum of foot movement, and the pressure gradually eased , despite the return of D'Cruz to the attack. Both players struck sixes as the fifty partnership was reached, but two runs short of 150 and four runs short of his fifty, Mark Dwyer edged Lawrence to Shields.

On the same score Malcom Byrne poked Lawrence into Strydom's hands, and Joseph joined his brother to put on sixteen more runs before a fraternal disagreement led to Luke running himself out for 22.

That nasty groundsman came in carrying not a brush but a bat, and stood around watching Joseph run up and down his pitch and puck one big six. I think he even scored a run. The Hills got to 175/9 off their 46 overs. I don't know the Latin for one and three-quarters, but they were 25 runs better off than the sesqui-ton that had seemed such a vain ambition at 87/6.

For North County , D'Cruz was the only one to bowl his full allocation, taking 1/41. Harper had 3/32 off 7, Mooney 1/23 off 7 and Lawrence 2/15 off 5. They contributed 21 wides to the batting side. André Botha bowled just his opening spell of 5 overs for ten runs.

More Milverton catering goodies were consumed before County started their pursuit of 175. Reinhardt Strydom can't buy a run these days, and drove loosely at Luke Clinton to be caught by Joseph at mid off. Fourteen runs later Conor Armstrong nicked Max Sorensen through to keeper Bray, and it was 19/2.

Brian Shields looked in great touch, and rattled three boundaries off Joseph Clinton's solitary over. Boatsy was working the ball around, and all looked well as County progressed to 58. Then André didn't call for a run that was there, set off, hesitated, and ran himself out for 16.

By now that nasty Mr Dwyer was trundling his left-armers up the hill, bellowing instructions to all and sundry, glaring at anyone who looked as if he might disagree, and generally making himself even more obnoxious. With a piece of string he pulled Brian Shields up the pitch and had him stumped for 31: 70/4.

The arrival of John Mooney at the crease upped the carbon footprint of Fingal by about 10%. It was no longer steam coming out of Matt's ears, it was a mixture of pollutants that warmed the environment. John Boy likes to use his pads, and Matt likes to appeal. Umpire Marty Block had to be in three wise monkey mode.

Jeremy Bray dropped a nick from John Boy. Matt, John and Jeremy had a full and frank exchange of views. Whilst the pantomime season had begun early from the pavilion end, Albert van der Merwe was quitly peddling his off breaks down the hill, and induced Richie Lawrence (13) to edge one. Jeremy hung on to this, and it was 91/5.

Ciaran Garry came in, hit the odd bad ball, and he and John Boy saw off Matt's theatricals (including another dropped nick behind) and Albert's more pianissimo approach. They took what runs were offered, and had reduced the target to 43 off the last eight, four of which would be shared by Luke Clinton and Max Sorensen, and four bowled by Mark Dwyer.

Then disaster struck. Another stupid run out accounted for Garry (19), and Dara Armstrong immediately holed out off Luke to make it 134/7. One run later John Boy (27) wafted at Mark Dwyer, missed, and was stumped.

Eddie Richardson completed a hat-trick of silly season run outs, D'Cruz slogged Luke to Patrick Byrne at long on and County were all out, still 35 short and still with five overs to be bowled. For The Hills, Sorenson took 1/24 off 8, Luke Clinton 3/23 off 9, Matt Dwyer 1/25 off 9, van der Merwe 1/28 off 9, and Mark Dwyer 1/20 off 5.

The Hills celebrations began as I picked my way down and round Argillan and thence to Balrothery to avoid the practice sessions for the motorbike races. The carbon footprint of the M1/M50 took over from that of the MDwyer.

On Sunday I was back up in Fingal for the Rush v Merrion match. In last week's report I said it was on Saturday, just one of several mistakes I made. But it was about half the number made by the average Spurs centre back in 45 minutes of Premier League football. To err is human; to forgive is to be White Hart Lane season ticket holder.

The forecast was for rain in the early afternoon, getting heavier towards evening. At opposite ends of the table, both teams needed a win. Dom Joyce won the toss and stuck Rush in. He promptly dropped oppo skipper Niall Mullen at first slip off Keaveney, but held onto his offering off Matt Petrie. That was the end of his positive contribution to the Merrion cause.

Fintan McAllister tried to work Keaveney to leg, but got a leading edge to Pradeep Lavange at cover: 8/2. Nazeer Shaukat looked good from the start, but lost Lionel Jansen lbw to Petrie to make it 25/3. Jeff Short replaced Keaveney from the Loughshinny end, much to the delight of Naz, who helped himself to the sort of pies permitted in daylight hours during Ramadan.

Tipu Gull was most restrained, until he took an unmerciful wind at Patel and was bowled round his legs: 60/4. Shahid's only contribution was to run a three for Nazeer – the first time he had been known to do that for many a lunar year. He was so exhausted that he didn't move his feet (or anything else) to be lbw to Lavange: 63/5.

Nazeer had just reached a fine fifty when he pulled John Anderson's leggie toward Peter Blakeney at deep mid wicket, who held onto a very good catch: 72/6. Immediately Keegan Clarke wandered down the track to Anderson and was stumped: 72/7. Then Eoghan Conway ran himself out: 79/8.

If I had a quarter of the talent of Matt Petrie I would have been been ripping the ball out of Dom Joyce's hands, remarking my run-up, and sending two of 9, 10 and J to the promised land. But he paced quietly round the outer while Patrick Sheridan and Wasim Akhtar settled down against Damien Poder and John Anderson.

Eventually Dom Joyce's lightbulb switched on, and Matt was given two of his remaining four overs. How come Merrion end up with world's only polite Aussie? (Unkind people would say there's so many of them in the Anglesea Road club that the Central Limit Theorem, better known as the Law of Averages, says one of them must be polite!)

But Patrick and Wasim kept Petrie out, and helped themselves to whatever was on offer from the other end, Patrick with nicely-timed drives and Wasim with good old-fashioned thumps. They added 75 runs in jig time before Wasim, four short of fifty, couldn't resist having a swing at Damien Poder, and was caught by Keaveney at deep mid on.

I know I've used that line before, but if only Petrie were as cussid as Podes is now (not like he was when he first came onto the scene – nobody should be that bad). Patrick Shedidan saw an unnecessary third run when there wasn't one to finish his fine knock on 31.

Rush made 157 off 45.1 overs, fifty more than they should have in an hour longer than they should have. Petrie took 2/22 off 10, Patel 1/29 off 10, Lavange 1/29 off 9, Anderson 2/16 off 5, Poder 1/19 off 4.1 and Keaveney 1/14 off 4.

Merrion had twenty minutes to bat before tea, and Dom Joyce continued his non-contribution to the match by loitering in front of middle without any intent to use his bat. It was so plumb Shahid only gave it the one-shout, but Dom looked aggrieved when Peter Thew raised his finger. What was Dom thinking about? That afternoon's Camogie Final? Stoke v Everton?

About an hour and a half before tea Danny Parkinson, Merrion's Sid Bonkers, had arrived. I asked him had he used his bus pass to get out – there's a stop right outside the ground. No, he told me, he couldn't walk these days. At tea, Lazarus Parkinson rolled up his bed and walked the hundred yards to the pavilion without so much as a missed step!

After tea Damian Poder had time to nick off to Nazeer before they came off for rain at 15/2 off 7. Twenty minutes elapsed before the drizzle relented and play restarted with no loss of overs. The D/L par score for two wickets down and 20 overs was 51, and so good was the bowling from Nazeer and Shahid that John Anderson and Kade Beasley struggled to get anywhere near it.

But neither of the amigos (I still haven't got the Urdu) is in the first flush of youth, and each tired in his seventh over. Tipu and Niall Mullen went for plenty in the over each they bowled, and when the drizzle got too heavy Merrion were 56/2 off 16.2 overs, Anderson on 28* and Beasley on 21*.

Peter Thew was on his own, and had nobody to talk to when the drizzle stopped forty-five minutes later. The run-ups from the town end were soggy, and needed to dry out. Then the heavens opened and the plug was pulled. Rush had got out of jail, thanks to two of los tres amigos (Naz 1/13 and Shahid 1/19) and the 46 of lo cuatro amigo, Wasim.

Merrion have only themselves to blame: twenty-four or twenty-five points were offered up with uncharacteristic generosity by Rush, but eight are all they took. The eight that Rush gained may yet keep them up at Leinster's expense: the Rathmines men had got themselves a winning score at Castle Avenue, but never got the chance to defend it, and had to settle for the same eight points.