On 30 March 1974 I played tennis “properly” for the first time. How do I know?
Diary says so. Allow me to transliterate the relevant cypher:
Saturday 30 March 1974 – joined tennis club. Learnt forhand [sic] and backhand. Shoped [sic] in p.m.
Apologies for the dreadful spelling of “forehand” and “shopped” in there – no wonder I had just come 27th in class that term, the second term of my secondary schooling.
In 1974, the three courts you can see in the background – now described as “cushioned acrylic” which sounds well posh, were clay and were strictly adults only. We children had not been allowed in at all until most of us had reached the age of eleven – Fiona Levinson I think sneaked in with us before she had reached that age. Children were only allowed to play on the single court visible in the foreground. Now macadam, in those days it was a rather uneven concrete that might have had, at one time, a macadam component to it. Beginners and children only, I expect in those days, but good enough for us.
I seem to recall that the brains behind the operation was a rather formidable lady named Mrs Mussey, who I think lived in our street, Woodfield Avenue, just around the corner from Woodfield Grove.
I have a feeling that, unless you showed real talent and/or had parents who were willing and able to stump up some significant membership fees, the deal for children was a few starter lessons and then “be off with you”.
But that was Ok, my career in tennis was launched. Who wanted rather snooty clay courts that you weren’t allowed to use, when for a few pence you could play on municipal grass on Tooting Bec Common in the summer holidays. At school there were courts available too, although fives and cricket were more my thing than tennis at school.
As my diaries from the 1970s and 1980s attest – and countless more Ogblog pieces will reveal as I roll them out – tennis played a significant role in my childhood and my student days. Here are a couple of examples from the student years.
Even more significantly, Janie and I played tennis (albeit sloppy, post-party tennis) the day we met at Kim & Micky’s party, in August 1992, and have played regularly in the decades since:
Janie and I started out in Lammas Park, but since around the turn of the century, Janie and I have played at Boston Manor Tennis Club, which has three courts in Boston Manor Park. Less formal than Woodfield Grove but just the ticket for us.
Janie and I rarely play lawn (modern) tennis anywhere else, except when we are on holiday, but I have played the odd game in more rarified surroundings…
I have also formed a deep enthusiasm for real tennis since 2016, which I mostly play at Lord’s but, like most realists, I am an addict who will play that game whenever the opportunity arises. here’s an example or two, including some video evidence as well as photographs:
I have put the main highlights into the headline, but it was a full tilt time for me, the last three weeks of March 1974. Not only the above things but I also did “senior work with Morris” (whatever that might be), a load more drama with Ian Sandbrook, played cricket & fives & tennis & chess & Subbuteo…and got super-excited (as the young folk now say) about the hi-fi my dad procured that month.
But I am getting ahead of myself, let’s trawl those diary pages and try to make sense of them.
Sunday, 10 March 1974 – Classes party. Bar mitzvah – Mark Briegal, very good indeed. Got drunk.
Monday, 11 March 1974 – Drama good, stamp swapping. Cricket good.
Tuesday, 12 March 1974 – Saturday periods one to four. Art good. Navy display in pool v good. Senior work with Morris.
Wednesday, 13 March 1974 – Chemistry, good. Fives v good – more tuition from elderly man. World At War, good. Benny Hill.
Thursday 14 March 1974 – Not bad day. Classes good. All is okay.
Friday, 15 March 1974 – Drama, good. Hi-fi amplifier, tuner and speakers.
Saturday, 16 March 1974 -Exeat. Listened to hi-fi. Subbuteo after. Mum in a peeve.
Mark Briegal is my second cousin once removed (one of many such cousins). I am quite sure that Mark will feel honoured that my first diary reference to getting drunk (and quite possibly the very first time I felt drunk) was on the occasion of his bar mitzvah party. I vaguely remember cousins from the Jacobs branch of that family encouraging me to partake. Also rather a lot of dancing emanating from the Jacobs side. The following example from my own bar mitzvah party nearly 18 months later.
Let’s move on.
Not too sure where stamp swapping came from; I was never really into stamps. I do recall a neighbour giving me quite a sizeable box of miscellaneous stamps from the length and breadth of the dominions, some of which, for all I know, might have real value now. I still have them somewhere and should probably let someone who knows what they are doing have a look at them one day. In short, the sun never sets on my stamp collection, nor does it ever see the light of day. I might have swapped away the best of them, of course.
I cannot fathom what a navy display in the pool might have been, nor what “senior work with Morris” might have comprised…or even who Morris might have been in this context – Colin perhaps?
This was a big deal for me. I loved that hi-fi. Dad loved that hi-fi. I think he spent quite a lot of money on it, perhaps unaware that there were desperately difficult financial times just around the corner for him. Dad prioritised the hi-fi over the purchase of a colour TV – the latter purchase being beyond his means for a year or so after the purchase of the hi-fi.
I’m all of a quiver having found an image of that wonderful beastie.
Not sure what I was doing with Subbuteo and/or the hi-fi that put mum in a peeve – presumably playing for too long and/or playing music too loud while playing for too long. Mum would need to get over that – such conduct, although not recommended to younger readers who might stumble across this piece, became quite common in our household.
The Next Week Including The Mikado With Trevor Tindale
Sunday, 17 March 1974-Classes good. Feld’s lunch. Home after Kalooki 3p.
Monday, 18 March 1974 – Drama play Sherlock Holmes. Cricket good. Waltons good.
Tuesday, 19 March 1974 – Art good. Classes good. Likely Lads good.
Wednesday, 20 March 1974 – Fives v good indeed. Mikado – Tindale, extremely good as Ko-Ko.
Thursday, 21 March 1974 – Classes good. Uncle Cyril for chess – nice one Cyril.
Friday, 22 March 1974 – Acted play. Drama v good. Stereo player v good.
Saturday, 23 March 1974 – 27th in class. In afternoon, listened to record player.
This lifted from the Alleyn’s performing arts book – hoping that Mike Jones might dig out the full programme
The Alleyn’s Performing Arts book suggests that the school’s Gilbert & Sullivan was revived around 1973, primarily by Iwan Davies and Trevor Tindale, with the blessing of the Music Master Frank “Pop” Kennard. The Mikado would have been the second production.
My memory is clear that the first G&S I ever saw was the Pirates of Penzance, but whether that was the Alleyn’s production (either in my first term or perhaps before I started but once it was known I was to join the school), or possibly a professional production with my parents, I cannot recall. I can clearly visualise Iwan Davies and Trevor Tindale in their Mikado roles. I remember my folks being very impressed with it and loving it myself.
I went on a bit of a G&S binge in the aftermath of this show, borrowing any G&S I could find in the Lambeth Public Library and scraping it onto reel-to-reel tape at a rather shocking 1.875 IPS speed, which rather defeats the object of having a classy amplifier and a decent quality reel-to-reel recorder, but there you go.
I’d love to hear and see more memories of this event and am hoping that Mike Jones can lay his hands on some additional bumf and perhaps share his own memories.
27th In Class
How did I come 27th in a class that only had 26 people in it? OK, maybe there were 29 people in the class. Perhaps counting things was part of my problem at that stage.
But actually I now would like to challenge the basis of that assessment. I know that 50 years have passed and that most people might have more important things to do than re-hash old scores…
…but I am not most people, am I?
I would like to know how this somewhat embarrassing position was assessed. There is no reference to exams in my diaries. Continuous assessment had surely not been invented back then. So how were the class positions determined? Mr Sandbrook might or might not choose to respond to this question.
Was this some sort of rating/ranking system based on the teachers’ assessment of our performance in each subject using that rather subjective method of allocating the letters A to E with pluses and minuses attached?
Did Sir (Mr Sandbrook) apply numerical scores to those modal assessment classifiers? If so, was he aware that the application of conventional quantitative statistical methods to qualitative modal data is flawed for oh so many reasons. Machine learning algorithms, which can help with this type of classification and prediction problem, were mostly yet to be postulated, let alone of practical use, in 1974.
Tuesday, 26 March 1974 – Art good. Classes good. Likely Lads v good.
Wednesday, 27 March 1974 – chemistry, good. Fives v good – Cookie won as usual !!!
Thursday, 28 March 1974 – broke up from school. G Jenny’s, missed classes, report q. good, art A- excellent.
Friday, 29 March 1974 – Uneventful, Andrew not available, wargame, Subbuteo, five-a-side cup snag.
Saturday 30 March 1974 – joined tennis club. Learnt forehand and backhand. Shopped in p.m.
I’m struggling to work out why I was so motivated to write down that I caught Nick Jarmany out at cricket. I don’t remember sporting rivalry (or indeed any rivalry) with Nick. Perhaps he had been doing very well in that particular game – the moment seeming noteworthy in that context. It’s a badge of honour, getting a sporting mention in my diaries, Nick. A badge of honour.
Interestingly, in the Wednesday entry, Alan Cooke finally gets the mention he deserves with respect to fives. My memory of it was that invariably won, although the diary documents a couple of (I suspect rare) Harris victories before this end of term confession.
Alleyn’s branded gloves hadn’t been invented back then
How did I get quite a good report for coming 27/29 in class? Sadly, mum threw away all of my old school reports without asking me if I wanted to keep them…”yes please, mum”, I’d have said…so the details are now lost in the mists of time.
I might politely ask Mr Sandbrook to try to replicate his summary in that end of term two school report, but I thought I’d ask Chat GPT to have a go first:
Despite ranking 27th in the class, Ian has shown commendable dedication and enthusiasm towards his studies and extra-curricular activities. While his academic performance may not currently reflect his efforts, his attitude towards learning is admirable. He has actively participated in various school activities, displaying a keen interest in broadening his horizons beyond the classroom. With continued perseverance and focus, Ian has the potential to improve his academic standing and excel in his studies. Keep up the good work and maintain your positive attitude towards learning.
Oooh, I rather like that. I feel inspired to buck up my ideas and work a bit harder next term. That report might even stave off my mum’s peevishness.
School’s Out
I love the reference to Andrew [Levinson] not being available and a Subbuteo five-a-side cup snag. Presumably the latter caused by the former, as there is no sign of anyone else to play with that day.
Contrast with “joining tennis club” the next day, which I am pretty certain also involved Andrew and Fiona Levinson, plus some other kids from our street. I have written a whole entry to commemorate the 50th anniversary of me starting tennis, as that feels rather important given the amount (and varieties) of tennis I have been playing avidly since that day.
Election cliff hanger. Water polo, good. Drama, good.
Saturday 2 March 1974
School morn, good. Penalty prize good. Exam tomorrow – prepared.
Sunday…Visited Motel In Hospital…
Motel was someone my Grandma Anne had picked up along the way. Goodness knows where she found him…probably in a kosher hotel in Bournemouth. Or in central casting having asked for “an alte kaker from the schmutter trade”.
“…even a poor tailor is entitled to some happiness!”Presumably Motel, Fiddler On The Roof, Otterbein University Theatre & Dance from USA, CC BY-SA 2.0
Grandma Anne’s friend Motel was always nice to me but consistently promised more than he ever delivered. On one occasion he told me that he was going to make me a little velvet suit…I’m still waiting. Not that I think, in retrospect, that I was or am the little velvet suit type.
I’m pretty sure it was on this occasion, in hospital, wired up to a cardiogram machine, that Motel, hand shaking, “gave me a little something”, probably 10p, which, according to my father, sent Motel’s cardiogram readings haywire. Perhaps my dad exaggerated for effect.
Monday…The Banson Mystery
Until this week, my cricket training reports had been either pithy – “good / v good” or explaining my own derring-do such as taking catches or wickets. This week I mention something pertaining to Mr Banson and I cannot for the life of me read the word. Here’s the entry blown up and enhanced as best Photoshop can:
So what was “Banson in…?” My memory of him is mostly as an impatient, old school games master whose motivational technique was primarily based on applying his hand to the boys’ heads with some force.
I would really appreciate it if the hive mind of Alleyn’s alums were to transliterate the offending word/words.
Rest Of the Week
A rare mention of loss in the fives on Wednesday. The unnamed warrior who beat me was almost certainly Alan Cooke.
Thursday and Friday I am clearly pre-occupied with the general election. I have no idea what 440-700 means in that context on the Thursday – possibly the number of people they estimated to have voted at that Synagogue-annex-cum-polling-station in Brixton. Marcus Lipton prevailed in that constituency, which will have pleased my mum who always spoke very highly of him.
No idea what “Penalty prize” means. I don’t think it was a TV show – perhaps it was something we did as games on a Saturday at school.
Sunday, 3 March 1974
Exam went well. Andrew [Levinson] came for lunch, editing learned how to splice.
Monday 4 March 1974
Cricket good. HEATH RESIGNED.
Tuesday, 5 March 1974
Art papier-mâché. Classes good. Okay walk.
Wednesday, 6 March 1974
Fives, v good. Instruction from elderly man – played in old and new courts.
Thursday, 7 March 1974
Physics 9 out of 10. Classes paper. Purim at Bolingbroke – female singer.
Friday, 8 March 1974
Water polo scored and saved goal. Drama v good.
Saturday, 9 March 1974
School morning. Typed play in afternoon. Doctor Who v good.
I’m a little surprised to see “learned how to splice” at such an age – I thought I’d been editing tapes from an earlier age than that. But on reflection, I realise that the splicing method required for reel-to-reel tape included an open blade and my guess is that my dad needed convincing that I was ready to use something as potentially dangerous (to myself I hasten to add) as an open blade.
I love the fact that “Cricket Good” is trumped by, in block capitals, HEATH RESIGNED on the Monday.
Tuesday: Spelling Bee
My attempt to spell papier-mâché has to be seen in the original to be believed. Still, how would you have spelt it, dear reader, had you not seen my spell-checked version in this article?
Wednesday: Rugby Fives Tuition From Elderly Man, Aged 41
When I raised the matter of this “elderly man” with Mike Jones a few years ago, he informed me that it must have been John Pretlove, a name that rang a bell. A fine county cricketer and doyen of Rugby Fives, John was, at that time, often at a loose end and would come down to his alma mater, Alleyn’s, to watch and give informal instruction to the boys.
I was a little shocked when Mike told me that John was 41 in early 1974.
“But I seem to remember having to help the elderly man down from the viewing bench when he offered to help me”, I said. “He was already not in good shape by the early 1970s”, said Mike, “he’d worn out a lot of parts playing multiple sports”..
This might have been the occasion that Barry Banson had clipped me around the back of the head and called me “uncoachable” in front of John. I was upset, as I had been humiliated in front of this senior fellow. But after I helped John Pretlove down from the viewing bench he showed me what he thought Banson was trying to show me – getting my front leg well forward, getting right down to the ball and using my shoulder to give the ball some humpty around the walls. It became my best shot, both left and right-handed.
Rest Of The Week
I’m not sure which was the greater miracle – me scoring 9/10 in a physics test or me scoring and saving a goal at water polo. Several of the people in my year who really were good at water polo might read this piece at some point. Please let me know what you think…as if you guys need any encouragement to let me know what you think.
I’m not sure which of our “plays” this might have been, but this was the fruit of our drama class so it is just possible that this “typing of play” reference is about the Greek classics piece I have previously written about.
Sir (Ian Sandbrook) certainly won’t remember, but he might just be able to make out what I was saying about Mr Banson on that first Monday of this fortnight. After all, Mr Sandbrook had a lot of practice trying to make out my scrawl (and that of others) 50 years ago. Here’s the extract again, in colour this time.
