Reed Park, Dapto, Australia.

For any Illawarra cricketer, there are few more challenging trips than Dapto away. This is especially the case if you are used to cruisy beach side living in the northern suburbs. A harsh and unforgiving land, Reed Park is home to a permanent hot wind blowing off Mullet Creek leaving the playing surface a good 10 degrees Celsius hotter than the rest of the region.

The crowd is a tough one. Such is their feverish passion even the home team keeper and an opening bowler copped a beating the night before the game for failing to navigate their way to post season cricket.

While wicket had taken on some water in between days one and two, the actual sheds remained the usual 42km away from the field (as the canary flies). The home team monopolises the council built shade structure, the opposition is left to expire in the beating sun.

To avoid the Dapto wilt, a Woonona Dad and team mate, erected a Coleman® brand Event 14 sun shelter.

Such was the excitement surrounding the structure that a scuffle broke out at Tuesday nets over whether it was a marquee or a gazebo. Bizarre meal based definitions flew around as tempers flared.

It’s a marquee not a gazebo you fuckwit, you can eat a meal inside it.

You’re farked. It can’t be a marquee, there are no sides.

The skipper and the slider bowler had to be separated before things got violent. It was later begrudgingly agreed on as a ‘sun shade’ thanks to the helpful product description from Coleman® on their official website.

With no corners to lurk in and no walls to lean against, kit was adrift everywhere, a confused mess moving in sequence with the sun. Like the surviving crew of the Essex floating in the Pacific, delirium set in amongst the batting order, runs, wickets, and wallets all misplaced.

Disappointingly one of my team-mates neglected the leave-no-trace policy usually encouraged when camping out in a wilderness such as this. Submitted the photo and full report to Dapto Council, yet to hear anything back.

When packing up our temporary home, our desert island in an unforgiving sea, I reflected on another fruitless trip down the Bong Bong Road. No win, no song to raise the UV rejecting roof, but a one that will live long in the memory thanks to the delights of the Marzeebo shelter.