Let’s be honest about this. Lancashire were already guaranteed promotion and Middlesex were already guaranteed to have missed out on promotion this year before I set off on this trip.
Lesser folk might have bailed out.
Not me. Nor Dumbo, The Suzuki Jimny.
Off we went, at about 7:30 on the Monday morning, arriving at Old Trafford around 11:30 after but one pit stop.
The main car parks were full, so Dumbo had to spend the day at the back of the largest temporary stand in Europe, still there after the Ashes test but decommissioned for this county match.
I then head off to the 1864 Suite to join the other green-bookers – very few from either county that day as it happens – perhaps because this day would have been Day Five of the Oval test, had it not ended in four days.
Splendid hospitality as always, not least from Keith Hayhurst.
I thought Middlesex bowled pretty well on a moderately responsive pitch – although I didn’t witness the first hour, new ball, bowling. But then Middlesex’s day one batting. Oy!
One Middlesex green-booker was so ashamed at the end of day one, he removed his Middlesex tie as he left…to walk the 20-30 yards to the Old Trafford on-campus hotel.
Me? I’d arranged a salubrious AirB’n’B at Stretford/Old Trafford borders:
“You have reached your destination…”Ah, the other side of the road; a bit better I suppose.
A session with Darren Long – very helpful in learning to aim at the tambour with my right arm from the service end and also how to respond to such a shot off the tambour with my left arm from the hazard end. This paragraph must mean a lot of nothing to those readers who are not real tennis aficionados, I do realise.
Rackets Court at Manchester – never tried itReal tennis court resplendent in the early morning light
After showering and changing, back to my digs to drop off Dumbo and then a 10 minute stroll to Old Trafford, to witness Middlesex score the highest ever 1st class score (anywhere by any team) after being 6-down for less than 40. Some comfort I suppose.
To add to my improving mood, I met Clive Lloyd along with Jack Simmons (the latter Janie and I had met at Southport); it’s always a big deal for me to meet one of my childhood cricketing heroes.
Then a chance to wander around the ground and chat with some of the Middlesex regulars.
After stumps, time to go home and freshen up before heading off to the Chorlton Tap to meet Alex (as planned) plus Sam (as arranged the day before) and Steve (who joined the party that very day). A very convivial gathering.
Wednesday morning, back to the tennis court, for an ill-fated match up with a big hitter named Jonathan. My injured right arm had reacted somewhat adversely to the drills the day before and I felt the overuse within 5-10 minutes. Fortunately he is a very friendly, nice chap so we had a good run-around with me playing left-handed off a high handicap and him getting the chance to practice his winners a lot. I donated my Thursday morning court to Jonathan which I thought was the least I could do to compensate him and the chap (a good friend and match for Jonathan) who had arranged an early slot, purportedly for me.
Good cricket on Wednesday, not least a decent second new ball spell late in the day that set up a good position for Middlesex overnight, subject to our boys batting decently Thursday (they didn’t).
A quite evening in with Benji the Baritone Ukulele again Wednesday (did I omit to mention Benji as Monday evening entertainment too)?
Image from Brighton a few years back
Thursday morning – with no tennis I made an early start back to London – dropping off stuff at the house and then passing through the flat on the way to the City for some work and a London Cricket Trust Trustees meeting.
Anyway, life hasn’t been taking me to Manchester much lately, so when John White told me that his daughter, Lydia, was to have her first professional stage role in Rags The Musical at the Hope Mill Theatre…
…I decided to construct a short trip to that fair, clement City.
I contacted Ashley Fletcher, who had been unavailable on my previous visit or two; we arranged to meet for dinner on the evening of 12 March. So I booked three goes at the Manchester Tennis and Racquets Club, a ticket for Rags for 13 March and an Airbnb apartment near to the Hope Mill Theatre for two nights.
Unfortunately, Ashley got called away at the last minute on family matters, leaving the first night free. This possibly afforded me an opportunity to meet up with Alex “King Cricket” Bowden instead…
…but Alex spotted that Manchester City were to play Schalke 04 at the City Of Manchester Stadium that night, which is within chaos distance of my chosen location for diggings and musical theatre. What do I know of football? For a start, why are Schalke given 04 just for turning up – are they using a handicapping system in football now, much as we do in real tennis?
Strangely there had been a big European match at that same stadium when I was last in Manchester in 2016 against a shibbolethic team named…
…Borussia Mönchengladbach….
…But as I was staying in Salford Quays that time, the resulting disruption was merely hearsay to me, whereas this time I had inadvertently arranged to stay right in the thick of it.
I sought some spiritual advice on the matter.
I had arranged to meet Andy Salmon at Sacred Trinity Church briefly before playing tennis that Tuesday afternoon. We are both involved with the Church’s on-line service register initiative, which Andy is piloting.
Sacred Trinity: a beautiful church in Salford which happens to be just around the corner from the Manchester Tennis And Racquets Club
It was actually very interesting for me to see one of the Churches involved in our project, not least to see what such places are like on a regular, non-service day. Andy of course made me very welcome and also gave me some helpful local North-East Manchester advice regarding what to do when a big match is on. Basically, get to your digs early enough to avoid the chaotic roads/transport and then only go out again during the hours of play.
Manchester Tennis And Racquets Club – not so special looking from the outside – you can see why I drove around the block a couple of times on my first visit there.
After tennis (a close match in which I came second, despite having received handicap points) I dashed off sharpish to get to New Islington early and settle in to my apartment. Probably just as well, not least because I could see the police getting ready to herd fans round the ring road and along Pollard Street. Also, it took me a while once I got to the apartment to sort out parking and entry – some goon had parked in the designated parking space for my car. The errant parking goon had been given a parking ticket, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do in the circumstances, so I waited for my host to sort out an alternative space for me to use, which he did reasonably quickly.
Getting in and out of these fancy apartments in converted industrial buildings is often quite a palaver (this is not my first time in such a place), but this one was quite exceptional, with codes for the car park, building entrance, stairs (if needed – wasn’t), corridors and then finally the front door. Once you know all of these things its OK, but the first time, laden with baggage…
…anyway, I was there in decent time and liaised with Alex. We concluded that getting either of us to and from each other within the hours of play would leave precious little time to actually do anything of merit, so abandoned the idea of meeting.
Plenty of time to eat there between the start and end of a football match.
Indeed I was home well before the end of the match and was very tired. I had driven almost all the way to Manchester through torrential rain; my least favourite driving conditions. I went to bed early and thought I heard the roar of the crowd from the stadium. Probably a goal I thought, dozily.
I also discovered that Manchester City had done similarly well on my previous 2016 visit, scoring four against a team requiring no handicap – I’m starting to get the hang of this new soccer scoring system now. I’m sure the soccer crowds just love the additional nuance that handicap scoring can bring.
Anyway, after that enjoyably early night, I rose early and had plenty of time for reading and practising my Renaissance guitar technique before going off again to Salford for a lunchtime tennis match up. This time no handicap at all and this time I prevailed over my opponent. Both of the matches had been very good ones; really nice people and good challenging tennis. Tomorrow I’ll return for a lesson.
Back to the apartment for some more music and reading. Then back to the Thai place to try a rice dish – a beef massaman.
The next morning I vacated my apartment and drove round the ring road for my tennis lesson. I decided to take a picture of the main lobby of the club, which, in contrast to the exterior, looks like a grand club from a bygone era. Trigger warning: the heads of deceased beasts line the walls:
Through the arched window (as they would say in Play School) is the real tennis court.
Darren Long gave me my lesson – as indeed he did on my last visit. He does some different drills from the guys at Lord’s and has some interesting thoughts on the one or two things I might do to transform my game from the ordinary to the utterly exceptional. It might be as easy as that…although it might not.
Seriously, Darren is a very good coach and it was a very enjoyable hour. Once again, the team at the Manchester Tennis and Racquets Club had made me feel extremely welcome and looked after me as well as I could possibly have hoped for.
I made two stops on the journey home to ensure an adequate state of alertness and to stretch a bit – driving from Manchester to London straight after a rigorous hour of drills on the tennis court is probably not ideal on the old body, but still.
It had been an enjoyable trip; apart from the cold, the wind and the rain. Manchester really should try and do something about that – otherwise it could end up with somewhat of a reputation for its inclement weather.
The view back to MediaCityUK when strolling from there to Old Trafford. The tall building is TheHeart.
This was my last away trip of the cricket season. Possibly because this was to be Middlesex’s last away match of the season. I decided to take in pretty much the whole match, driving up to Manchester on the first morning, staying three nights and returning to London on the final evening of the match.
Knowing Manchester reasonably well from business trips, I found TheHeart Serviced Apartments, a suitably located (MediaCityUK) facility, getting a late booking deal there; a two bedroom apartment for the price of a studio. Not a spacious apartment as it turned out, but plenty of room for just me and Benjy the baritone ukulele.
I set off early from the house, hoping to avoid the rush hour; I largely succeeded, taking the M6 toll road to avoid the Birmingham crush. I expected to miss some of the first session with the September 10:30 starts and was pleased to arrive at Emirates Old Trafford (Old Trafford) around 11:00, thus missing little cricket.
Keith Hayhurst, Lancashire’s historian, was our wonderful host for all four days. I thought the instructions said to go to the Committee Board Room, but when I got there the only person to be found in there was Paul Allott, just finishing a phone call. Paul kindly took me to the suite on the opposite side of that floor, where Keith was hosting a small group of us.
Lancashire had won the toss and inserted Middlesex, much to the surprise of most observers. Middlesex batted well all day.
The tennis club building is quite extraordinary. Darren welcomed me and gave me a guided tour. A rackets and a squash court as well as real tennis. There is even an old-fashioned skittles alley behind the dedans gallery of the real tennis court.
The tennis court surface differs considerably from that at Lord’s; slower and far more sit-up bounce – perhaps as different as playing modern tennis on clay when you are used to fast hard courts. Still, I won my match and then headed off to find my apartment in Salford Quays, running into a few strolling Middlesex players along the way.
After checking in, a quick stroll to the Booths supermarket myself so I could snack and have a quiet drink while I strummed for a while to end the evening.
Tuesday 13 September
I had arranged to play tennis again at 7:30 and to meet Richard Goatley before the start of play at Old Trafford 10:00/10:15, so it was an early and well planned start to the day. I drove from Salford Quays to Salford proper for my game of tennis this morning, a truly excellent match which was as close as close could be: 5/6, 6/5, both of those deciding games going to 40-40 deciding points. Despite the dead heat scoreline, I was credited with a win for that match as I received fewer handicap points than my handicap entitlement. I felt I had done well winning both days on that beautiful but “alien court surface”.
Photograph reproduced with the kind permission of the Manchester Tennis and Racquet Club
After a juice, kindly provided by my opponent, I changed, dropped the car back at TheHeart and walked, across the bridge and along the canal, to Old Trafford.
Richard and I met just before play started and found a quiet place in the stands to have a chat about the proposed new City-based T20 tournament in the context of our strategy work. It was an unusual conversation, as Richard was bound by an NDA, so could say little, but I could still float ideas and make suggestions based on rumours/leaks that had found their way into The Telegraph and Times by then. Both prospect theory and game theory came into it, much as they did, coincidentally, in a different context, on the final day of the season 10 days later.
When Richard and I returned from our chat, Keith Hayhurst offered us a tour of The Point, the new conference/exhibition facility at Old Trafford. There was a food fair going on in there that day, heaving with people entirely unconnected with and oblivious to the cricket. Richard and I agreed that we were witnessing something very different from our imaginings and expectations. The facility is enormous and is flexible space for all manner of commercial activities; it was very interesting to see it for sure.
Lancashire played much better today and the ball seemed to be doing quite a lot more, in the hands of both sides’ bowlers. I had hoped to see young Hameed bat, as everyone is talking about him and I missed him at Lord’s this season, but he got a nine-ball blob. Young Rob Jones, his opening partner (whom I’d seen bat at Radlett a few weeks’ before), did much better and was not out overnight.
I indulged a little bit more in the hospitality today (and why not?), so after stumps, having walked back to my apartment and strummed for a while, a very light snack of fruit and nuts was enough; I went to bed early and happy.
Wednesday 14 September
Setting off from MediaCityUK to Emirates Old Trafford
Not such an early start required on Wednesday; time for a morning strum. The walk across the bridge and along the canal from TheHeart takes about 30 minutes door to door. I timed it to arrive just before the start of play.
Lancashire batted better today, working hard to make the game safe. Rob Jones hitting a six to score his maiden first class/first team century was the highlight; his joyous celebration really was a sight to see and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up – click here for a 30 second YouTube clip of that big moment.
It was a glorious evening and we worked out that I would have more than enough time to walk in to central Manchester while Alex commuted in from Macclesfield. I had told him that I had plenty of reading matter with me. Then a text from Alex:
Train’s half an hour late …hope that reading matter’s more than a pamphlet.
We had a very enjoyable evening in the end; both the food and the drink in Sam’s is reliable and not ridiculously priced. Far more character to that place than the modern but sterile-looking places around MediaCityUK. We strolled to Piccadilly together, where Alex got his train and I grabbed a taxi back to Salford Quays.
Thursday 15th September
Early start again today, as I arranged to check out and then pay a final visit to the Manchester Tennis and Racquet Club (MTRC), where I had a very useful lesson with Darren at 8:30. We focused especially on picking up the low ball off the back wall, with some drills that perhaps work on that bouncier surface in ways that wouldn’t work at Lord’s, but taught me some useful techniques that I most certainly can now deploy at Lord’s.
Reproduced with the kind permission of the Manchester Tennis and Racquet Club
I really was made to feel most welcome at MTRC and am very grateful to Darren, Stella and Steve for looking after me so nicely that week. I hope to get the opportunity to play again there on future visits to Manchester.
Straight on to Old Trafford, where they parked me up very conveniently and I was able to time my arrival almost perfectly for the start of play.
It seemed unlikely that this match could catch light on the last day; Lancashire had managed to blunt Middlesex’s attack and take enough early wickets to keep Middlesex cautious; much as Middlesex would have loved a win from this match, the draw points might just prove to be a useful buffer to assist in the final round. Lancashire had seemed most interested in a draw throughout.
By tea it was clear that the match was petering out to a draw, so I (along with others) decided to bail out and miss the Manchester/Cheshire rush hour. The hospitality at Old Trafford really had been first rate, although again I didn’t take full advantage on a driving day, especially after eating and drinking lunch and dinner the day before.
Coincidentally I ran into Harry Latchman and Blossom at the service station on the M6 Toll Road on the way home – what were the odds on that? I got home in good time – around 8:30 pm and took an early night ahead of a busy working Friday.
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