Ballyspallen Lose by Broken Printer in NWCU Farce
On a wet afternoon in Northern Ireland, Ballyspallen’s survival fight in the North West Cricket Union Premier League didn’t end with a wicket, a boundary or a dramatic DLS chase. It ended with a broken printer.
They had done the hard work first. Eglinton, the visitors, were bowled out for 159 in 48.1 overs on Saturday, a total that left the match finely balanced rather than decided. Ballyspallen had just begun their reply, 19 on the board after two overs, when the rain swept in over the ground.
Covers on. Players off. The familiar wait.
Overs were always going to be lost. That meant the Duckworth–Lewis–Stern method would decide what Ballyspallen needed once play resumed. Officials moved to calculate the revised target.
Then the day turned from routine to absurd.
To formalise a DLS chase, both teams and the umpires must be given a printed DLS sheet. Ballyspallen, as hosts, were responsible for producing it. The regulations are explicit: the home club must have “a computer loaded with the necessary software, a compatible and operational printer with a sufficient supply of paper and ink, and a proficient operator”.
On this day, that chain broke at the printer.
The machine failed, a DLS sheet could not be produced, and with that, the contest was over without another ball being bowled. Under North West Cricket Union rules, if the home side cannot supply the sheet, they immediately concede the game. No leeway. No workaround. No restart.
Eglinton, all out for 159 and under pressure early in the second innings, walked away with the victory.
The NWCU also stresses that the system should be “operational” before the first ball of the match. Ballyspallen’s “technical hiccup” fell squarely foul of that requirement and cost them more than just an afternoon’s work. Denied the chance to chase a modest total and push for a fifth league win, they stay anchored to the bottom of the Premier League table.
On days like this, the margins between hope and despair aren’t measured in runs or wickets. They’re measured in paper, ink, and a printer that simply refused to play.
