Pacific arrested another winless streak with a strong perormance featuring great individual performances from Aroon Korgaonkar, who took one of the club's record wicket hauls to win the game, following the good start provided by Ben Burnham, who earlier scored a personal best as he opened the batting.

...more match report to come from the skipper when he gets a quiet moment.

Stats corner 

Aroon joined the pantheon of genuine Pacific legends with one of the great individual bowling performances, having earlier in the season struggled with his bowling arm and focusing more on his batting. 

His 8 wickets for 32 is the third best figures for the club in its 35-year history.  

It's been 20 years since the last time a PCC bowler notched an eight-fer.

Only one bowler, Nigel Wilkinson in 1989, has even taken nine wickets for Pacific in an innings. Three other bowlers have bagged eight wickets in an innings: Nigel, for 21 runs against Radlett in 2003, Peter Hollman, for 30 runs v Bexley Park Wood in 1990 and John Baglivi for 44 runs v Washington in 1998. 

'Runspotting' - a tribute to Benny 'Benton' Burnham and his favourite book

The magistrate's expression seems tae oscillate between pity in loathing, as he looks doon at me in the dock.

You stole the CDs from HMV record store, with the intention of selling them, he states. Sell fuckin CDs - ma fuckin erse.

- No, ah sais.

The magistrate lets oot a sharp exhalation. It isnae a brilliant job the cunt's goat, whin ye think aboot it. It must git pretty tiresome dealin wi radges aw day. Still, ah bet the poppy's fuckin good, n naebody's asking the cunt tae dae it. He should try tae be a wee bit mair professional, a bit mair pragmatic, rather than showin his annoyance so much.

- Mr Burnham, you did not intend to sell the CDs?

- Naw. Eh, no, your honour. They were for listenin'.

- So you listen to Lee Scratch Perry? Tell us about him, Mr Burham, the patronising cunt sais.

- It's all aboot reggae and cricket, ah tells the range cunt. And ah prefer tae be known as Benton. Anyways, ah rabbit on a bit, as ah ken a fair bit aboot the law, ye kna? But ah cut myself short. They hate a smart cunt. It's easy to talk yourself into a bigger fine, or fuck sake, a higher sentence. Think deference Benton, think deference.

The magistrate snorts derisively. As an educated man ah'm sure he kens far mair aboot the great reggae and dub artists than a pleb like me. 

Anyways, ah digress. 

Cricket's always been ma thing, since oan the beach in Wales as a wee nippa. Ah've never been incarcerated for cricket. However, loads ay cunts have had stabs at rehabilitating me. Ma folks fuckin had a go. Refused tae gimme a lift oota Bampton afta i tried pinchin' a Lee Scratch Perry CD fra HMV, like.

Rehabilitation is shite; sometimes ah think ah'd rather be back in Leiden. Ay, ye ken? Ah did ma Masters there. Fuckin' international law, fuckin' purple-hazy time it was. Worked in a pub where they had cricket bats oan the fuckin' wall. In fuckin' Holland. Them foreign cunts've goat nae trouble wi the Queen's fuckin English, ken, so ah wuz happy as Larry, and felt like ah wuz home with playing cricket with me pa back in Bamford. 

Ah've been referred tae a variety of shite other spoarts but cud never drag mesel away frae cricket. A void grows within ye. Cricket fills the void, and also helps us tae satisfy ma need tae go shop liftin' in HMV. 

So, anyways, back tae the fuckin present two thousand and fuckin' eighteen. Crooch fuckin' End. Ah wake up oan the floor wi the Ashes '05 DVD still runnin' and ma phone alarm is goin' and ah remember we're playing' Homerton CC, formerly the radges known as Chats Palace. Ah scrabble tae get ma shit together, pull on ma 35-year anniversary shirt from SportingBilly.com, wi radge embroiderered badge.

Get tae the game and Tom Ireland wis tremblin. Ah wis tryin no tae notis the cunt. He wis bringin me doon.

- Benton. Ah goat tae score.

- Aw, ah sais. I'm openin', ah said, youse can bat number 4, skipper said. Ah cannae be ersed wi waitin' tae let him go first.

Ahve goat masel a radgey called Jas openin' wi me. Anyways, I'm oot in the middle. I'm gonna fuckin' score.

An I do. Fuckin' hell. More'n ahve iver goat in ma life. 

Take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty, and you're still fuckin miles off the pace. 70 fuckin' runs. 

Anyways, some other shit happens and then we've won. 

Choose life. Choose cricket. 

(Watch the YouTube vid here)