Guest Contribution: Mark Ellicott’s Response To His Summer 1982 Mix Tape

Mark Ellicott more recently (actually 2016)

In response to my “forty years on” piece about a mix tape Mark made for me in 1982…

…which is probably worth reading before reading the following response…

…Mark responded with some fascinating reflections of his own about that music “forty years on”, along with his thoughts on what the follow-up mix tape should have been. I shall try to replicate that “thought-experiment mix tape” within this guest piece.

Ah Ian,

Every one of those tracks still gets a regular airing in my household! For me they have never aged because I’ve never gone through a prolonged period not listening to any of them. Anything by Grace Jones in that early eighties period always brings back memories of six in the morning in Freehold Street, Newcastle in the spring and summer of 1982 after a night at the 141 Club in Hanley  with the likes of Anna Summerskill, Mark Bartholomew, Vince Beasley and Jan Phillips, amongst others. Invariably all of us stoned / tripping and / or speeding. The ‘Nightclubbing’ album just tailor made for the wee small hours after a long night out just as everyone was coming down. It was THE album I most associate with that crazy summer term when I went through that cathartic metamorphosis!

The Grace Jones version of ‘She’s lost control’, originally by Joy Division, on that tape I made you was one of the more eccentric covers I’ve heard. Back in 1994 I had the good fortune to meet the great lady when she was booked to play at The Fridge in Brixton. It was touch and go whether she’d make it onto stage - she was several hours late I recall before the show eventually started - but I did ask what had prompted her to cover such a track by such a band. It transpired she knew nothing about the band, knew nothing about Ian Curtis’s suicide and had merely heard the original track before deciding there and then to do her own version. It ended up as the B side to her single ‘Private Life’. She was rather horrified when she found out about Curtis’s demise and that the song was about epilepsy - a condition he suffered from. 

The Roxy Music track ‘Both ends burning’ (from 1975) is etched into the memory because of their performance on Top of the Pops promoting it. Bryan Ferry dressed up as a GI with an eye patch dancing awkwardly as two heavily made up women, also dressed up in military garb, swung their hips behind him - looking vaguely glassy eyed in the eyeball department.

‘Violence Grows’ by the Fatal Microbes was always being played by John Peel. The singer was 15 year old Honey Bane, a schoolgirl who’d been signed up on the strength of her already provocative stage performances. This was a howl of rage from a time when there really didn’t seem much hope for young people as unemployment skyrocketed. Her indifferent tuneless vocal delivery for whatever reason just resonated. 

‘Atmosphere’ by Joy Division arguably my favourite track released just after Curtis’s death  a fitting tribute to the man’s genius. He was only 23 when he died - just imagine what might have come later on in his career had things been different. I wonder how ‘Blue Monday’ by New Order might have sounded had he gotten his teeth into it. I still recall John Peel announcing his death on air and playing ‘Atmosphere’ and being quite shocked. No one then could have imagined the cult status they would 40 plus years later enjoy. 

‘Typical Girls’ by the Slits just a wonderful piece of pop-punk-reggae by the original riot girls. Ari Up the singer (alas she died of cancer some years ago) was John Lydons (nee Rotten) stepdaughter. John married Ari’s mother Nora, a German heiress, back in the eighties. It’s a track that despite its 43 years of existence still sounds like it could have been recorded in 2022. 

Mark then went on to suggest a follow-on mix tape:

Had I made a second tape for you that year it would have undoubtedly included the following. All from that 1982ish period. 

‘My face is on fire’ - Felt
‘Fireworks’ - Siouxsie & the Banshees
‘Temptation’ - New Order
‘How does it feel?’ - Crass
‘Torch’ - Soft Cell
‘The back of love’ - Echo & the Bunnymen 
‘Second skin’ - The Chameleons
‘Persons unknown’ - Poison Girls
‘Hand in glove’ - The Smiths
‘Treason’ - Teardrop Explodes
‘Requiem’ - Killing Joke
‘Dead Pop Stars’ - Altered Images
‘Alice’ - Sisters of Mercy
‘Eat y’self fitter’ - The Fall
‘Painted bird’ - Siouxsie & the Banshees
‘Let’s go to bed’ - The Cure
‘Capers’ - The Birthday Party
‘Nightclubbing’ - Grace Jones
‘The look of love’ - ABC
‘Being boiled’ - Human League
‘Pissing in the river’- Patti Smith
‘Walking on thin ice’ - Yoko Ono

OK, let’s give that mix tape a go. I have really enjoyed listening to these tracks and hope readers enjoy them too. Many thanks, Mark, for your kind note and further selections forty years on.

FoodCycle, GoodSAM, The Samaritans, 1981 Keele/BBYO Redux & Being Boilered, This Is Lockdown 3.0, 20 February 2021

With thanks to Rachelle Gryn Brettler for snapping us in Rossmore Road, preparing to do our FoodCycle run on a wet winter’s day

We don’t get out much in Lockdown 3.0, other than to buy food and do our charity work.

That is giving me a chance to crack on with my retro-blogging; I’m working through 1995 & 1996 to cover the Ged & Daisy (Ian & Janie) “25 years ago” story. I’m needing to give more thought, though, to the formerly less well-documented, “40 years on” story of my early days at Keele University.

Strangely, 1981 and 2021 seem to have collided, forty years on.

I wrote last summer about my joy at being asked to make our FoodCycle collections from St Paul’s in Rossmore Road

…mentioning the superb tapes Graham Greenglass used to make for me, including quirky numbers such as Rossmore Road by Barry Andrews. I still hum it or sing it more often than not when Daisy and I do FoodCycle from there:

Dreamy use of sax and double bass on that track.

Last week, I wrote up the very weekend during which several visitors descended on Keele and Graham presented me with a few cassettes, including that very track. The piece below is a thumping good read, even if you weren’t there, including an excellent undergraduate recipe for spaghetti bollock-knees:

On Wednesday, before Daisy and I did our FoodCycle run, I did an NHS Responder gig to collect a prescription. Strangely the prescription was to be collected at the Tesco Hoover Factory in Greenford. Strange, because also on that little collection of quirky recordings given to me in February 1981 was the song Hoover Factory by Elvis Costello:

So, by some strange quirk of fate, forty years after being given recordings of those two rather obscure (but wonderful) recordings about lesser-known places in West London, I found myself doing charity gigs from those two very places.

I have already written up the ear worm I got from Hoover Factory a few months after first hearing the song:

But the early 1980s connection this week does not stop there.

While I have been cracking on with the NHS Responder/GoodSAM app as well as FoodCycle, Daisy has been training to become a Samaritan and this week moved on from being a course trainee to becoming a mentee (i.e. doing real sessions with real calls under the supervision of a mentor).

Towards the end of her course, Daisy had been waiting with a little trepidation to find out who her mentor might be. Mentors work closely with their mentees for a few weeks. She knew that it might be one of her course trainers or possibly someone she hadn’t encountered before.

A couple of weeks ago Janie announced that her mentoring instructions had come through and her mentor was a new name to her: Alison Shindler.

GED: Oh, yes, I know Alison Shindler.

DAISY: What do you mean?

GED: She was a leading light in BBYO towards the end of my time there.

DAISY: Might not be the same person…

GED: …Ealing BBYO – bet it is!

Of course it is.

What a pleasant surprise.

Less of a surprise though, after their first session together, is that Alison & Daisy seem to be getting along really well. I’m confident that the mentoring partnership should be a very good one.

Meanwhile Alison has furnished me with a photo from so far back in the day, the biggest surprise is that we were in colour back then:

With thanks to Alison Shindler for this photo

That’s a c17-year-old me turning around, next to me Simon Jacobs who was central to my “going to Keele” story and part of the “cooking weekend”. In the red scarf I thought was Jilly Black (who has remained friends with me, Daisy and Alison throughout those decades – in fact it is a little surprising we haven’t overlapped before now )…but it turns out to be Emma Cohen disguised as Jilly. Opposite Simon is Lauren Sterling plus, slightly upstaged by Simon’s head, Caroline Curtis (then Freeman) who visited me and Simon at Keele the February 1981 weekend following the “cooking” one.

It’s all too weird, in a good way.

But now, after all that excitement, Daisy and I are in temporary exile at the flat. The replacement of the Noddyland boiler has over-run by a day, making Daisy right and me wrong, as usual.

Stock boiler image: neither the actual old nor the actual new boiler

I’ve been grasping for a quirky early 1980s musical connection for a boiler replacement. So my earworm for the tail end of this tale is by that early 1980s mainstay, The Human League – Being Boiled:

God’s Gift, Pure Genius, Or Both? Annex To Alleyn’s School Class Of 1980 Virtual Buttery 3, 20 January 2021

When I reviewed last week’s virtual gathering, I forgot to mention Paul Driscoll’s anecdote about the optional “prefect’s blazer” available to those of us who attained such giddy heights at Alleyn’s School. The blazer was emblazoned (pun intended) with the school crest and motto.

That motto was God’s Gift. Edward Alleyn no doubt meant that motto to symbolise education. But the phrase has a sarcastic meaning in modern parlance; e.g. “he think’s he’s God’s gift.” And as Rohan Candappa so ably puts it, “We are Alleyn’s. If you cut us we bleed sarcasm.”

Unsurprisingly, very few of us took up the offer of this optional, distinguishing garment. Beyond the sarcasm, such an emblem had every chance to land us in a heap near North Dulwich railway station, where the Billy Biros (pupils from William Penn School) needed little excuse to isolate an outlier from the Alleyn’s herd, taking severe retribution for invented sleights and offenses.

The main senior school uniform was a two-piece or three-piece suit. I have only one picture of myself wearing mine:

Me And Wendy Robbins, Autumn 1979, Westminster Bridge

I was reminded of all of this by a posting on Facebook in the Keele University alums area.

In the late 1980s, just a few years after a left Keele, when Guinness had a particular advertising slogan on the go, some fine folk in the University of Keele Students’ Union produced the following tee-shirt.

It dawned on me that I am a very rare example of someone eligible to wear not only the Alleyn’s God’s Gift blazer but also the Keele Pure Genius tee-shirt underneath the blazer.

In the dying moments of the Trump US presidency, this suitably modest mental image should be shared with the world and saved for posterity.

It’s just a shame I was unable to model the two garments together back then. I would have looked magnificent; indeed it would have been the best look ever, anywhere, for anyone.

With all due modesty…

Memorial Conference for Les Fishman, Management Centre, Keele University,15 October 2008

Leo Fishman – nothing like her grandpa in matters tennis

Professor Peter Lawrence (who had been my P2 economics tutor) got in touch with me about this conference and I was delighted to make space for it.

Firstly, I had very fond memories of Les Fishman, Peter Lawrence and indeed other tutors from the economics department at Keele.

Secondly, with the 2008 recession having just kicked off big time and no-one knowing what was going on, it seemed a good opportunity to find out what my alma mater’s economists thought about it all.

Thirdly, with only a month or less to go until my Gresham lecture on Commercial Ethics, I thought some clear head time in the rarefied atmosphere of the Keele Hill might do me some good for that project too.

Peter Lawrence offered to put me up, but I explained what a terrible house guest I am, so checked in to the Crewe Arms in Madeley Heath.  I don’t think we ate there that night – I think Peter picked me up from there and took me to a gathering elsewhere. Several of the other academics and visitors were there that night, including Keith Tribe and I think also Shirley Dex.

Here is the programme from the Wednesday conference:

progmem(1)-5

I also was sent a copy of Les Fishman’s seminal paper about the effect of the Vietnam War on the US economy: vietnampaper-1 and also a paper by Norman Flynn about the economic impact of the Iraq War econwar.

The conference was very interesting. I especially remember David Leece (who was my P1 tutor) explaining how relevant the work of Hyman Minsky was becoming in the light of this particular recession – spot on.

2016 picture – thanks to Mark Ellicott

I visited the Students’ Union briefly, its appearance had changed somewhat since my previous visit but the print room was still populated by Pat Borsky and (I think temporarily) also Barbera, so it really was like stepping back in time 25 years seeing those two.

Pat Borsky: could not be described as retiring…apart from the day she retired in 2016 – thanks again to Mark Ellicott for the 2016 pictures

Fun networking with several of my former tutors/lecturers, a few other former students (Paul Smith I recall), several delightful members of the Fishman family and others too.

One strange unintended consequence was meeting Leonore Fishman who (with a bit of encouragement from her dad, David) subsequently asked me for a job and ended up working for Z/Yen for a few years. Stuff happens.

Leo Fishman at Jez Horne’s “Z/Yen Stag Do”, 2010. Thanks to Monique Gore for this picture.

The Day I Saw Slade & The Smiths At Keele, 10 January 1995

With profound apologies to lovers of 1970s & 1980s popular music who clicked this page under false pretences; I just couldn’t resist the headline. But I am talking about the day I went to Keele and met Dr Eddie Slade while seeing Professor Mike Smith for the first time. Later, I had dinner and stayed over with Mike Smith and Marianna, at their house in Church Plantation.

Professor Mike Smith, who sadly died suddenly, 12 November 2020

It happened like this. My business partner, Michael Mainelli, had worked with Mike when Michael first came to The British Isles in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Coincidentally, mostly while I was at Keele.

Michael and Mike had kept in touch. Mike Smith went on to become, in 1990, Professor of Health Informatics at Keele in the departments of Computer Science and Medicine. He concurrently held the position of Director of Information at North Staffordshire Health Authority.

Our business, The Z/Yen Group, was starting to thrive. I was looking after the civil society side of the practice and was starting to itch for bright resource, around the time that Mike was starting to look for opportunities to mix some fresh commercial activity in with his academic work.

Michael suggested that Mike and I meet. Knowing that Keele was my alma mater, Michael suspected that an excuse to stop off at Keele the next time I was heading north would be an attractive proposition for me.

So, between client appointments near Euston on the Tuesday morning and client appointments in Manchester on the Wednesday morning…

…Mike Smith said he would be delighted to see me on the Tuesday afternoon & evening, insisting that I should stay with him and Marianna at Church Plantation.

I think that first house might actually have been The Smiths’ house!

Mike also asked if there was anyone still at Keele that I would especially like to see, as he had time that afternoon to wander down memory lane with me.

I suggested Eddie Slade. I had seen most of the people who had taught me and were still active at Keele on earlier visits, but had not seen Eddie since my Education & Welfare sabbatical year, some 10 years earlier, when Eddie was Senior Tutor.

I recall that Mike didn’t rate our chances of getting in to see Eddie, commenting that he didn’t think he’d ever had an audience with the Director of Studies (as he was now titled).

But when I arrived at Keele, Mike told me that, to his surprise, Eddie had remembered me and said that he would like to have a meeting with both of us.

A recent (2020) picture of Eddie, borrowed from the Douglas MacMillan Hospice site, a wonderful cause

It was great swapping stories with Eddie from the distant past…9 to 10 years earlier. We’d not seen eye-to-eye over everything, but on the whole had got on very well and had worked together to resolve some “little difficulties”. Some of those tales might yet emerge in my write ups; some might best remain unwritten.

We also discussed how the Students’ Union had changed in those 10 years. I was delighted to learn that the Real Ale Bar was one of the union’s great commercial successes, as that had been one of our 1984/85 innovations.

I then asked what turned out to be a daft question about the television rooms. In our day, there had been three television rooms and the addition of a fourth TV channel (Channel 4) had caused some consternation. I asked Eddie how they regulate the television rooms now that there are multiple channels…

…Eddie laughed and explained to me that any student who wanted to watch television in the 1990s had their own TV. The former TV rooms had long since been repurposed.

With thanks to Mark Ellicott for this 2016 picture of the Students’ Union

After saying goodbye to Eddie, we had time for me to have a look around the Students’ Union, so I could see for myself the fate of the former TV rooms and far more besides.

This was also interesting for Mike, who confessed that he had never been in the Students’ Union building before, so it was my turn to give him a guided tour for the most part. It hadn’t changed all that much.

In 1995, there were still quite a few staff in the SU from my era. For sure Pat Borsky was there to be seen in the Print Room, for example; I think Barbara also.

Disappointingly, though, nobody said…

…”cards please”…

…as we entered the Union, although I did have my dog-eared life membership card with me, just in case.

Wally…where were you? Thanks to Mark Ellicott for this 1985 picture

Anyway, after having a good look around the union, we retreated to Church Plantation where I met Marianna for the first time, we three ate a hearty meal, enjoyed a wide-ranging conversation and the rest, as they say, is history. Mike and I worked together and became friends for 25 years, until his sudden death so sadly intervened.

I write this piece, the tale of how Mike and I first met, in late November 2020, just a couple of days before Mike’s funeral and just a couple of weeks since I wrote the personal tribute linked here and below.

A Letter From Keele, Professor Les Fishman, 2 September 1985

I have no idea what must have gone wrong with the earlier correspondence, unless it turns up in a pile I have not yet excavated. I got on well with Les, both in my capacity as a student and as a students’ union officer. He was, in my experience, a wonderful lecturer and steward of his undergraduate students. So my comment about the long-forgotten faux pas would have been tongue-in-cheek on my part, as would Les’s rebuttal have been on his part.

Les Fishman Letter 2 September 1985

In 2008 I went to the memorial mini-conference Professor Peter Lawrence and others held in Les’s honour. I ended up meeting and hiring Les’s grand-daughter, Leo, who thus worked at Z/Yen for a few happy years.

 

Ringroad Finalists Revue, Keele University Students’ Union (KUSU), 27 June 1985

A couple of weeks ago (May 2017) I wrote an Ogblog piece about my first forays into Ringroad Revue – click here. Quick as a flash, John Easom at “Keele Alumni Central” put Frank Dillon in touch with me, triggering e-mail exchanges, arrangements to meet up and of course a flood of more memories.

Frank wrote/asked:

I was particularly intrigued to learn that you are in possession of The Cornflake Box – or The Holy Grail as Olu Odunsi and I have dubbed it these past 30 years(!) or so.
Any chance you could scan me the contents?

The actual box (which I suppose I inherited from Frank in the summer of 1984) disintegrated during 1985 while it was living in my flat (K block Horwood). I think it was probably replaced by another similar box.

My collection of scripts is now in a file – a mixture of original hand-written scripts and photocopies – a fragment of the Holy Grail with some facsimile elements.

I don’t think that I even took the actual box with me…not that it was THE actual box any more, unless we accept that this particular Holy Grail of a Cornflake Box regenerated every few years – a bit like Dr Who…just more funny, less animated and with fewer enemies.

I suspect it will be autumn (2017) before I get space to take on the Ringroad File/Cornflake Box/Holy Grail Fragment for comprehensive scanning and sharing – otherwise I’ll be interrupting my current/future life by spending a disproportionate amount of time wallowing in the past…and that won’t do.

But I do have, already digitised, a recording of the Finalists Revue from 1985, which I have uploaded in two chunks (due to WordPress file size restrictions).

I cannot remember the name of everyone who appeared in the 1985 Finalists Revue – apologies to those whose names I only half remember or forget.

Frank was gone by then. Olu Odunsi was still around and was a delight to work with on the boards, including this show. John Bowen, who was on the research//academic staff, also joined with us for Ringroad that 1984/85 academic year and was similarly good news to have in the team.

Indeed the whole cast was fun and friendly. Dave Griffiths (who also wrote very good material) and three fabulous lasses, Jo, Jackie and (I think) Karen. Possibly there were others, but I think that’s it. Please help me to fill in the gaps if you are able, dear reader.

I have not re-listened to the recording in full myself yet, but I think the second half might be a tad better than the first half. The recording is poor as we had a microphone shortage, so some bits are less audible than others and some sketches sound a bit shouty.

I was pretty hopeless as a performer, really, but I think it was seen as a bit of a coup to have a union sabbatical on the Ringroad cast taking the pee out of union politics. I wrote little back then – my comedy writing was to blossom later, in the 1990s, at NewsRevue.

Enjoy the recording(s) below and please do comment.

Ringroad Finalists Revue 27 June1985 Part One of Two

 

Ringroad Finalists Revue 27 June1985 Part Two of Two

 

My First Ringroad Performance and Related Memories, Keele, 18 August 1984

I was reminded of my early Ringroad performances the other day (May 2017) while chatting with Paul Spence at an informal, curry-oriented gathering of the old school clan.

When Paul mentioned that his extensive energy sector interests include nuclear power, I found myself reciting the Ringroad Windscale poem from memory – the first and last verse simply flowed as if I had read or performed it just the other day.

Paul asked if I had a copy of the poem. I said I probably did – see below.

I didn’t write the poem. I’m not sure who did. Possibly Frank Dillon; at least Frank would probably know who wrote it. I’d like to credit it if anyone reading this can let me know the name of the author.

That chat with Paul brought back a flood of memories about my sabbatical year summer and my first Ringroad performances.

Over the summer, Keele would get waves of Open University students passing through for short face-to-face courses. This was rich pickings for a depleted Ringroad troupe, as you could redeploy the same material, show after show, secure in the knowledge that it was new to the frequently-changing audience.

Further, the Open University audience had money. Ringroad was traditionally performed on an “entry free, pay what you like on exit” basis. Our own impoverished students would tend to chip in with a couple of bob at best (nothing at worst), whereas the OU students would happily toss 50p pieces or pound coins/notes into the hat. One OU performance could easily generate a week’s-worth of beer money for two or three performers.

Frank Dillon, who was a seasoned Ringroad writer and performer, was around that summer and we spent a lot of time with him. I guess I was the only sabbatical mad enough (or perhaps I should say keen enough on a bit of extra-curricular performance and beer money) to agree to give Ringroad a try with him.

I recall Adrian Gorst joining me and Frank in performing Ringroad on occasions that summer, but I’m pretty sure that my first attempt was just me and Frank, an idea possibly hatched by Frank because Adrian was away. Frank probably sealed the deal with me a couple of nights before:

Thursday 16 August…went to Burtonwood piss up with Frank in eve

John White was also around that summer but didn’t want to perform Ringroad. It was just a few days earlier (14 August) that John and I started doing Union discos together – I’ll cover the discos and much more about that summer in other Ogblog pieces.

Still, it seems that my first attempt at Ringroad went well enough:

Saturday 18 August…did Ringroad in the evening – good larf

Frank and I did it again the next day:

Sunday 19 August…spent afternoon going over Ringroad stuff with Frank. Performed Ringroad in evening.

But perhaps I was over-stretching myself taking on all this novel activity at the same time:

Tuesday 21 August…did Ringroad and disco – both went down rather badly.

I recall that the OU students had somewhat of a reputation in the eyes of the regular Keele people. Let me merely say that many an OU student’s ring finger would show evidence of very recent ring removal, especially in the evenings.

From: http://www.flickr.com/photos/askjoanne/390246275/ Photographer: AskJoanne
This file is gratefully licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license.

Indeed, had the term “cougar hunter” been invented back then, performing Ringroad to the OU students might have been described as, “like wielding a two bore rifle in a jungle densely inhabited by felines of a particular species”.

Not that I am suggesting that Frank Dillon and I were “two bores”. Far from it. Moreover, neither of us were interested in that particular fringe benefit.

In fact, I recall, after one of those early performances, Frank was relentlessly chased after the show by a very enthusiastic middle-aged OU woman who said she loved the show and clearly took a particular shine to Frank. I think it might have been the night that John and I also did the disco, so John and I only had limited opportunities to rescue Frank and help steer proceedings to a reasonably dignified conclusion.

If Frank had shown a more open-minded attitude to such matters, of course, he might have become President of France by now. Or at least Merseyside Metro Mayor.

Still, bunny boiling hadn’t yet been invented then either, so, as far as I know, no animals, (feline, lapine or indeed of any species) were harmed in the making of Ringroad that summer. Pady Jalali, our social secretary, a well-known protector of live fauna and carrion alike, will be much relieved to learn this.

Why did I recall all of this?

Oh yes, Windscale, Sellafield and the poem that I doubtless learned that first weekend of doing Ringroad and which has stuck in my brain ever since. The corn flake box which protected my collection of Ringroad scripts has long since disintegrated, but I have preserved the scripts as best I can in a file.

To be credited to the author as soon as that person’s identity is established. If you click through to the image, you can then download the file from Ogblog.

The author, if/when that person’s identity does come to light, might wish to explain their idiosyncratic spelling of Sellafield, but we’ll let that pass for now.

O Captain! My Captain! – Gentlemen Of The Right v Players Of The Left – Keele Festival Week Cricket Match, 26 June 1984

Toby Bourgein. Picture “liberated” from the 1980/81 Keele Prospectus

I am sadly motivated to write up this story having learnt, a few days ago (September 2020), that Toby Bourgein has died. Toby captained the Players cricket team in all three of the festival matches I played. I had been intending to write up this glorious 1984 match for a couple of years, since I wrote up the tale of my surprise appearance in the 1982 match..

…and the 1983 match…

For those not motivated to click the above link, I was a late selection for the 1982 match (for reasons that, alone, make the 1982 link worth clicking). I did not bowl and I did not bat in that historic victory, but I did, more by luck than judgement, take a stunning catch.

It won’t have looked this good, I wouldn’t have been so suitably attired, but it was a diving (in my case left-handed) catch. This picture from school five years earlier. I was better at taking pictures than at playing cricket. Still am.

Toby Borgein had a long memory and a good heart. I ran into him a week or two before the 1984 match and he told me he wanted me to play again and have a proper go this time.

We have a solid opening batsman, Ian Herd, this year. I’d like you to open the batting with him.

Ian was on Somerset CCC’s youth books – i.e. he was way above “our” scratchy festival knock-about cricket pay grade. But I didn’t know that until later.

Several of my friends came along to watch this time around, not least because I knew more than 30 minutes before the start of the match that I’d be playing. Anyway, there were worse places on earth to spend a glorious summer afternoon than the Keele Festival Week Beer Tent.

With thanks to Frank Dillon, this picture of an earlier “Players” team, probably 1981

We (The Players) fielded first. I neither distinguished myself nor embarrassed myself in the field – unlike 1982, during which my fielding had met triumph and disaster; naturally treating both of those imposters just the same.

I was mostly fielding in the long grass where I was able to nurse my pint of ale and seemingly play cricket at the same time. Who says men cannot multi-task?

Keele University Playing Field

The Gentlemen scored a little over 100 in their innings. A respectable but hopefully not insurmountable score for that fixture, based on previous experiences.

Then to bat. Sadly I have no pictures from the 1982, 1983 nor the 1984 event – if any are subsequently uncovered/scanned I shall add them. Here is the earliest photo of me going in to bat I can find; from 1998:

If you imagine Barnes Hall to the right of me and the tennis courts, beer tents etc. to the left, this could almost be the Keele playing fields. Almost, I said.

I still hadn’t picked up a cricket bat since school, unless you count the 1983 net and subsequent nought not out without facing a ball. But I was quite fit that summer, having played tennis regularly before (more or less during) and after my finals.

Anyway, Ian Herd could bat. We rattled along. I helped to see the shine off the new ball. I suspect that Ian made a greater contribution towards seeing off the shine by knocking the ball to all parts, but we’ll let that aspect pass.

The crowd was probably more heavily weighted towards Players’ supporters than Gentlemen’s supporters, but in any case by the second half of the match vocal chords were more lubricated.

In what seemed like next to no time, there was a cry from the crowd…

50-up

…allowing me and Ian a joyous moment of handshaking celebration in the middle.

“I think I’d better ‘hit out or get out’ to give some of the others a go this year”, I said.

“Good idea”, said t’other Ian

It didn’t take long (one ball) for me to loft one up in the air and get caught.

More tumultuous applause as I came off, with the score on 53/1.

“Fifty partnership – great stuff”, said Toby, ever the encouraging captain

I remember Bobbie Scully and Ashley Fletcher both being there. and both expressing joy in my performance and surprise that I could play. I’m pretty sure that several of my fellow Union Committee members, not least John White, Kate Fricker and Pady Jalali were around too.

Remember, folks, that everyone was quite well oiled by then and no-one was REALLY watching…

…apart from the scorer.

The scorer was Doreen Steele’s son. Doreen was the Students’ Union accountant and the NUPE shop steward for the union staff. Her son clearly aspired to similar careers.

“How many of the 53 did I score?”, I asked.

“Three”, said the lad.

“Are you sure it wasn’t four?” I asked, having counted to four in my head.

“You’re probably including a leg bye…”

“…I hit that ball onto my pad, actually…”

“…the umpire signalled leg bye. It was a leg bye…

…you scored three.”

You can’t argue with that schoolboy logic.

Nor can you argue with the fact that I had been part of a fifty partnership in a cricket match.

Nor can you argue with the fact that Toby Bourgein had pulled off a captaincy masterstroke…or at least a warm, generous gesture that meant a lot to me.

But did The Players win the match, I hear you cry? You bet your sweet pint of Marston’s Pedigree we won.

Toby Bourgein will be better remembered at Keele for many other things, not least his student activism. The one other picture I have of him, below, is from a protest we attended together in 1982. But I remember Toby especially fondly for these silly cricket matches, for which he was, O Captain! My Captain!

Toby bottom left, looking suitably senior and serious about fighting the cuts.
Me towards the right, in trope-inducing donkey jacket, holding diagonal corner of the campus model

Plenty of Tennis Between My Law Finals And My Economics Finals, Keele, 24 to 26 May 1984

Thursday 24 May 1984: Did some work today – played tennis in afternoon – worked at Bobbies in eve – came back after.

Friday 25 May 1984: Did some work today (not very much) – cold etc – worked over at Bobbies in eve.

Saturday 26 May 1984: Went shopping in afternoon (-McDonalds ) – played tennis in afternoon – went Bobbies to work in evening – stayed.

This was part of a short period between the end of my Law Finals exams and the start of my Economics Finals exams.

I do remember playing rather a lot of tennis at that time.

The tennis (when the opponent was not named in the diary) would have been Alan Gorman, aka The Great Yorkshire Pudding.

Pudding and I played a great deal that year, including several five match thrillers, which might well have taken in excess of three hours to complete.

I have a vague recollection that one of our five set thrillers did take place in that interval between my finals exams and I have a feeling it would have been the 24 May match, which preceded me having a cold the next day – a minor illness probably exacerbated by an excess of tennis.

Pudding and I were quite evenly matched at tennis, although we were very different in playing styles and physique. Pudding was tall and skinny, with “long levers” (as we say these days) and a fair bit of strength. I was much shorter, skinny, compact and comparatively feeble – but I was quick around the court and quite cunning in my style. Our matches were nearly always close.

We didn’t look much like this in 1984, but Ivan Lendl did.

The tennis courts were not much used, so we could usually play whenever we wanted for however long we wanted.

Unfortunately for me, several members of the Economics Department were amongst the very small band of other regulars on those courts, not least Professor Les Fishman, Mrs Fishman and Peter Lawrence. I don’t think they were impressed by the duration and intensity of our matches that close to my finals.

They might have had a point.