Past players

N.A.E. Piercey+


If cricket were art then Nick Piercey is a Dutch master. Where Rembrandt gazes unflinchingly at life’s squalor, disorder and ultimate futility, Nick’s efforts at the top of the order hold up a mirror to the complete catalogue of human misery, pain and despair. Look at this, you fuckers. The sharp decline in Sox player membership dating from July 2013 has at its root Piercey’s tortuous 8 n.o at Marauders, in which he carried his bat. In 2012 Piercey ran three singles in a season.

Two time Players’ Player of the Season Piercey’s anger is the humming engine at the heart of the Green Sox sporadic power ranger-esque clunking towards victory. In his 2015 interview with the Lancet Piercey stated that that week his fury was mainly directed at umpires, kitmen, field placings and the limits of his own misanthropy. To punish his skeleton Nick volunteers as the Green Sox wicket-keeper.

N. Sellar


Sellar by name, cellar by nature: Niall Sellar labours night and day over an extensive wine collection, some of which may or may not be derived from the corrupt vineyards of the aristocracy. Niall is a raucous Scot, and was taken to task by The Firsty Firth of Forth Chronicler for ‘ hiding his north-of-the-border tendencies behind erudition, good-humour and (dirty) white trousers’. Since the article was published he has carried on his person at all times a sheathed dagger that he uses to whittle ice, carve German verb tables into park benches and reenact the kitchen scenes from Ratatouille, his second favourite film. His favourite film is Bladerunner, the dialogue of which he mouths silently at onrushing fast bowlers.

Sellar burst into the Sox consciousness by holding onto a catch, and kept their interest through regular displays of preternatural insight into the opposition. Niall’s ability to identify which hand a fielder will throw with has led some to think him clairvoyant, and rumours abound in the dressing room that Niall is a magician who can evaporate into thin air, cure palsy and and summon rabbits from his kitbag. In 2014 a swarm of poisonous frogs erupted from Belair Park’s Swamp End when Niall walked past. Famously laconic, Niall responded to being named the 2015 Stroud & District Autograss Batsman of the Year with a memorable speech that highlighted his disinterest in personal milestones, statistics, award ceremonies and cricket.

 J. Boulton

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Good-natured, competitive and vocal, Jacob is a primary school teacher from Shadwell who drives fast cars and dabbles in amateur astronomy. Reasoning that fundamental ratios underlie cosmic order, Jake maintains that his hobby will one day pave the way for physics to play a greater role in sport. His work on pivot mechanics in particular has raised many an eyebrow among academics, with some rightly questioning exactly what anything has to do with the no ball rule, and who the hell is he anyway. Jake likes arriving early for things and getting smashed on booze with the boys – he was one of the “Belair 4” famously barred from the team’s unofficial club house in the summer of ’15, dismissing historical precedent and punishing the Sox’s already fragile reputation amongst local hostelries with an episode of poor behaviour the Perifield Recorder described as “of the lowest order, and not seen in polite society since the Neolithic era”. Jake has since been unavailable for comment.

Sporting pedigree: One of a recent crop of new recruits, Jake is the latest addition to the team’s world class spin armoury and middle order slogging detachment. Big turn and big hits are accompanied by regular drops at mid on and mumbled hints he is fielding in the wrong place. Jake imparts so much turn on the ball he is regularly wided by unforgiving umpires, who (in Jake’s own words) are simply unaccustomed to seeing such prodigious talent at this level. An all-round sportsman, in the off season Jake plies his trade as a bustling and inventive midfielder in the Southern Amateur League and spends his evenings challenging team mates to arm wrestles over a meter of hard spirit.

R. Cashmore

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Ambitious, driven and short, Rob Cashmore is the West Midlands’ answer to Justin Langer, only with less hair. Cashy joined the civil service as a sabbatical after running Barclays Capital, exploiting migrant workers to make a fortune in the cockle picking industry and opening a small tea rooms in Leamore. Casho’s debut Green Sox season will involve a challenge for the most resplendently attired award, which he will narrowly lose, a run at the top of the batting and bowling charts, at which he will just fall short, and an attempted executive coup involving the phrase “this level of general incompetence and acceptance of failure would never have been tolerated at BarCap”, which will founder on the apathy of his peers. All of this will only spur him on.

Physical Pedigree  Rob Cashmore is fitter than you. He’s fitter than anyone you know or anyone you will ever know. Scientists at Loughborough University have rated him as a 9.2 on the fitness scale, somewhere between those twins off Fun House and David Beckham in that advert in his pants. In a double page feature for the Stubber’s Green Bugle, former P.E teacher Mr N. Buchanan said of him: “Rob always put the hours in. He didn’t like to rush, but set a steady rhythm and kept to it. He had the stamina to keep going all afternoon. Yes, he was certainly my favourite of all the boys at Blakenall Heath Gram—-Is this thing fucking recording me? I’ll kill you, you fucking snitch. Give me that phone you c——-.”

D. Cox

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Born at the age of 6, Dan Cox rapidly became a prominent figure of the rave scene in the summer of 89. Notorious for his tardiness, members of his second primary school (reportedly having been kicked out of the first) who wish to remain anonymous, said: ‘Yeah I knew Dan. He got me out of Sunday School’, and, ‘I saw him pass out at 31 Flavors last night’. Every now and again Dan mocks names with more than three letters as ‘small-fry’ and ‘pathetic’ but he remains well known for his variety of dinosaur impressions and a strong leg glance.

Physical Pedigree Dan’s favourite Streets of Rage character is Axel, his twin sister is called Twylite, and he still holds the Point Blank high-score at Aire-sur-L’Adour service station from his Year 8 French exchange. In an interview with Antiquated Mantras Digest, Dan reflected on his greatest achievements in cricket, including running out all ten of his batting partners in one innings, chortling, ‘Slow and steady wins the race. That’s what I always say.’

T. Evans

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In deep west Warwickshire born and raised
In the popping crease was where Thom spent most of his days
Chillin’ out maxin’ relaxin’ all cool
And all shootin some off-breaks outside of the school
When a couple of umpires who were up to no good
Started making trouble with his front foot
He got in one little fight and his mum got scared
She said ‘You’re movin’ with the Green Sox in BelAir Park’

Physical Pedigree: Thom is the strongest man in the world and hunts St James’ Park squirrel on his way home which he then eats raw for dinner. He shaves with a belt sander, eats rice with a toothpick, and can dribble basketballs underwater. GMH Security’s incident report, having discovered a snoozing Evans underneath Clare Moriarty’s desk at 3.27am, describes a wide-eyed action-man stretching his arms forward with an empty notepad and pen, pleading, ‘please Sir, can I have some more?’