Said to be the oldest active cricketing trophy in South Africa, The Midland Bat has been contested in the Eastern Cape Karoo since 1891, writes Chris Marais Up from Boet en Swaer Hollow, down the drag from Dagga Boer's Nek and just over the Amathole Mountains from the old Tambookie country lies Spring Grove Farm, at the end of the Cowie Valley.OK. Let's just unpack that. We're talking Eastern Cape Frontier here, the thicket part that is currently being beset by Acacia karroo trees and their attendant hosts of what the 18th-century hunters used to call "koodoo".Boet en Swaer country is, of course, the Lower Albany section down from Grahamstown. Dagga Boer's Nek is where you'll find one of South Africa's finest padstalle that, incidentally, always runs out of dagga by 6am - long before the shop opens.The Tambookies were a Xhosa subtribe that gave all the Settlers (Boer, 1820 and otherwise) a damn good fight.The Amatholes are graceful green mountains where you find misty villages such as Hogsback.story_article_left1The Cowie Valley is richness itself. The soil is excellent when it comes to nourishing livestock. And Spring Grove Farm, owned for many generations by the Ainslie family, has to be the most verdant spot around.You will see a cricket pitch surrounded by grand old oaks, ringed by lush mountains from where fresh streams of water are managed onto farmlands.And if you focus down even further, your eye will catch the sun's glint on a series of badges on an ancient cricket bat in a stand at the edge of the field.This is the Midland Bat, a prize regarded with about as much awe as the original sword in the stone, Excalibur, itself. OK, it's at least as locally important as the World Cup of Rugby.These days, The Midland Bat is contested once a year between Bedford XI and the Standard Cricket Club from nearby Cradock.The Bedford fellows usually come with old Settler surnames such as Pringle, Trollip, Hartley and Pitman. Cradock is a bit more of a mixed bag, but lately Du Plessis, Du Preez, Du Toit and Marais have been in the ascendancy.Although it was launched in 1891, the bat was not on offer during the Anglo-Boer War of 1899-1902, when Boer and Brit farmers were on different sides of the fence.But that's all water under the Carlisle Bridge, as they say, because the chaps have really been getting along around here since the dawn of the 19th century. In fact, my ancestors and their mates were commissioned by the Colonial government to guide the 1820 Settler families into this area and get them squared away.The current laird of Spring Grove, Lochart Ainslie, is in the process of settling his mantle on the able shoulders of his son, Hugh. In his time, Lochart opened the bowling for Bedford and Hugh continues that tradition today, with a lot of passion and speed.full_story_image_hleft1For photographic reasons, the Midland Bat has been moved to the edge of this immaculate field called the MCG, the Mill Cricket Ground. And what a pleasant assignment this is turning out to be, as I am parked here under the oaks behind a tripod, with something chilly to hand.Around me is the pleasant buzz of young farming families chatting on picnic blankets, children darting here and there, batsmen sitting nervously on a log in the background, waiting their turn at the crease.Being from Cradock these days, my heart lies with the fellows from Standard. The club celebrated its 150th birthday last year and generally tends to sweep the opposition away - except for this pesky Midland Bat affair, for which the honours are more or less even.The Standard club records were, tragically, destroyed or washed away in the Cradock flood of 1974.One of the Standard old boys is Michael Antrobus, whose name is etched on a winner's plaque attached to the Midland Bat. You can add to that the names of his father (Philip), uncle (Crawfurd) and Edward, his brother."It wasn't always easy gathering up 11 men who could hold a bat," says Michael. "Shortly after the war (WW2), my father would resort to phoning one of the Cradock hotels to ask if there was someone around who could play cricket - a staff member or a guest, perhaps."In parting, Michael shares the kind of local humour I've come to love."It's fortunate that Standard did not win the Midland Bat in 1974, because then it would have floated down the Great Fish River in the flood and been lost forever."Back in the 2015 edition of The Midland Bat saga, I move my tripod and cameras to a new position. It's time for action shots.Along strolls Bedford farmer Ian van Niekerk, just as Standard takes a flurry of wickets and the local boys are visibly slumping out there under the oak trees.The really interesting feature of those giant oaks is that they arrived here as baby acorns in the pockets of the Ainslie children back in 1834, when the family bought this piece of heaven from a certain Captain Devenish.I venture an opinion to Ian on the progress of the game: "It looks like The Midland Bat is coming home to Cradock tonight, boet.""Maybe," he replies. "But, you know, cricket's a funny old game."And then he wanders off to admire Lochart Ainslie's cross-bred sheep in a paddock nearby.The game is hotting up. These young players are very competitive and it's probably a great thing that impartial umpires from outside the district have been brought in to do the honours.I see Lochart puttering towards me on his off-road motorcycle and I compliment him on his fantastic field."Thanks. I can tell you I've played on some ropey pitches in the district," he replies. "I remember once having to kick out an invading Acacia karroo sapling from Third Man. Another time, I had to evict a puff adder from Fine Leg."story_article_right2In the allotted overs, Bedford manages a total of 150 runs. That should be easy to get, I confide to one of the Standard players, William Copeman."Just remember," he says, "They've got the runs on the board. We still have to get them."Both the Van Niekerk and Copeman clans have now warned me not to take anything for granted, except for the fact that the Midland Bat will be won by someone from either Bedford or Cradock today.After lunch, Bedford field and Standard bat. I witness Hugh Ainslie take some quick wickets. I see a Copeman and a Collett go out. I have just remembered some vital task I have to rush home for. I am, indeed, a fair-weather cricket fan.Standard's batting fails on the day and the Midland Bat stays with the hosts. But, in the words of a certain Bedford farmer, cricket is a funny old game and next year things might work out for the boys from my home town.Authors Chris Marais and Julienne du Toit have written, photographed and published several books on the Karoo. They are available in print and digital format from karoospace.co.za...