A Short Break In Petworth, Not Least For A Dedanists Real Tennis Match, Via Brighton/Hove, 22 to 25 March 2024

Following the success of our visit last year to the Petworth v Dedanists match…

…Janie needed surprisingly little persuading to do it again. We are not getting away much at all at the moment, not least because of “The Duchess’s” frailty, which makes this type of long weekend away…but not too far away…an attractive propsition.

This time I managed to secure us, via Airbnb, a cottage in Petworth itself, which proved a far easier and more attractive proposition than the “village nearby”, Fittleworth, last time, which required us to use the car and taxis a fair bit.

Before West Sussex, we first we went to Brighton and Hove for a bit of clothes shopping at Pendulum and then a visit to Cousin Sidney & Joan.

The weather was less than special on the Friday, but Dumbo was in fine form (i.e. the car worked properly this year) and we got to do the things we intended to do within the timescales we had intended them.

After checking in to our Airbnb cottage and resting up briefly, we returned to Basmati, where we had dined last year, for an Indian meal on that first night. It was a treat to only have to walk five minutes to get there. Indeed everywhere we went in Petworth we only had to walk five minutes to get there. It’s that kind of town.

Janie-style picture. I look like Clement Freud’s dog while Janie cunningly removes the worst excesses of my bald patch by cutting off the top of my head.

We probably slightly overdid the choosing of blander options at Basmati – I had forgotten that this is a place where they understand “not too hot” and can adapt accordingly. Still, a tasty meal.

On Saturday, we mostly relaxed in our lovely cottage.

In the morning the weather was bright but very cold. We used that as our opportunity to stroll the town, do a little shopping (Janie only bought one item in Tallulah Fox this time, which is a bit of a record), including some grub for smaller meals at The Hungry Guest and a wander around Petworth’s Saturday Farmers Market.

Choosing the morning for our wandering made sense as the heavens opened for most of the afternoon – really heavy, wet, cold rain. We enjoyed the snug warmth of our cottage.

Then the rains topped, allowing us a pleasant stroll to E.Street Restaurant for an excellent dinner.

Janie took an infeasibly large number of pictures of me eating there, which remind me of the pictures “The Duchess’s” carers take every day to prove that “her grace” is eating.

No-one really wants to see that.

Here, instead, is one the maître d’ took of us both.

It was an excellent meal.

On the Sunday, to Petworth House Real Tennis Court, where I met with triumph and disaster…and tried to treat those two impostors just the same.

Handshakes all round after the triumph of my first go

Peter Brunner and I, showing stoic resolve to no avail in my second go

Lunch and chat after my second go, after which we watched and cheered Peter’s second go, which was the final rubber and a nail-biter, through which he and his partner prevailed, to level the fixture and enable all to go home satisfied.

In truth, the purpose of fixtures such as these Dedanist matches is more the social and fun of it than the result. Robert Muir and his wife, Carol, expertly organise such days to be maximally convivial; competitive only to the extent that we all have fun playing the game we love.

In the evening, tired but happy, Janie and I supped on some of the cheeses we had bought the previous day, before taking an early night.

Naturally, we celebrated the end of our long weekend on our return to London on the Monday with a game of lawn tennis at Boston Manor, as oft we do.

Hoping for that elusive purple patch

A Cricket Bat In A Pigbag Video: Some Random Whimsy I Spotted & Wrote Up For King Cricket

Everything I want to say about this matter is covered in the King Cricket piece that I wrote up in my capacity as Ged Ladd.

Alex “King Cricket” Bowden was clearly taken with the piece, as I submitted it on 21 March 2024 and it went up on King Cricket less than a month later.

Just in case anything ever happens to the King Cricket website, here is a scrape of that piece.

Proving Einstein’s Theory Of Time Dilation & Stuff With The National Physical Laboratory At Horizon 22 In London, 15 March 2024

Michael is doing some scientific stuff as part of his Mayoral year, including a piece of work with the National Physical Laboratory (NPL) proving Einstein’s theory of time dilation by dint of measuring time at the top of the City of London’s tallest building (Horizon 22) and the NPL in Teddington.

Michael explained it in his inimitable style

I’ll let the propeller-headed NPL scientists explain it – click here.

The event on the evening of 15 March 2024 was an excuse for a drinks party to show off this experiment and more.

Janie came too and took loads of pictures.

Having dissed my Jackson Pollock tie at the Gresham do on the Monday, I wonder whether Bobbie would have approved of my Jackson Pollock shirt?

The weighty blob experiment confounds everyone, apparently.

Janie really liked the views.

Several Z/Yenistas and their friends/partners

It was a jolly evening. The time flew by, which is surely what Einstein would have predicted.

Ancient Arithmetic Appendix Two: Someone Has Been Here Before Me – A.E. Crawley’s Observer Piece, 18 January 1920

A.E. Crawley’s brother, Walter, also a tennis dude.

During the lockdown of 2020 I wrote several pieces on tennis history, starting with a piece pondering the origins of the tennis scoring system.

My research into tennis history has broadened and deepened since the summer of 2020. This week (mid-March 2024) I was burrowing through some old books in the MCC library, like I do, when I discovered an extract from and reference to an article in The Observer, in 1920, by A.E. Crawley, on this very topic.

The content and conclusions were remarkably similar to those I formed myself, over 100 years later.

Being a subscriber to Newspapers.com, I knew that I should be able to find and clip that article easily enough – indeed here it is:

A.E. Crawley Origins Of Scoring System Observer 18 January 1920A.E. Crawley Origins Of Scoring System Observer 18 January 1920 18 Jan 1920, Sun The Observer (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

I don’t know whether to be delighted that I reached very similar conclusions without standing on the shoulders of such a giant…or to be irritated that I did all of that research only to reach conclusions that had pretty much been reached 100 years ago. Mostly the former, especially as I enjoyed the journey so much.

The residual irritation is that the Wikipedia entry on this topic persists with the temporally nonsensical theories around floor markings (never standardised) and clock faces (unknown until long after the emergence of the tennis scoring system).

Someone needs to get busy on that Wikipedia page. I might ask Ged look at it if no-one else picks up on this in the coming weeks.

Parenthetically, it seems to me that A.E. Crawley had a particular reason to raise this topic in The Observer in January 1920. Here, his piece from the same newspaper in February 1920 about a “Bolshevik” move by the US lawn tennis authorities to replace the use of fifteens with single unit scoring:

A.E. Crawley Bolshevistic Scoring ObserverA.E. Crawley Bolshevistic Scoring Observer 15 Feb 1920, Sun The Observer (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

A radical change that would indeed have been.

“I’ay tant joué avecques Aage
A la paulme que maintenant
J’ay quarante cinq; sur bon gage
Nous jouons, non pas por neant.
Assez me sens fort et puissant
De garder mon jeu jusqu’a cy,
Ne je ne crains riens que Soussy.”

Singing…Or In This Case Speaking… For My Supper, Gresham Society AGM & Dinner, Guildhall, 11 March 2024

“Please, we’re desperate…” I get so many telephone calls that start this way these days.

OK, so I have made that first bit up, but I did get a somewhat surprising phone call from Tim Connell a few weeks earlier, wondering whether I might like to be the “guest” speaker for the Gresham Society annual bash this year.

“Keep it to 10 minutes”, said Tim, a man who claims to bring the AGM business bit of the evening home in five to seven minutes, but pretty much never does.

This year the AGM bit ran to over 18 minutes. I know, because I set off my stopwatch at the start of the meeting.

Anyway, it is always good to see the Gresham Society gang and this year we were in the hallowed surroundings of the Guildhall, albeit the modern members wing. The last time I dined in that part of the Guildhall, after the meal, I started a brawl…

…while my most recent prior visit to Guildhall was nerve-wracking by dint of the occasion and costume I was required to wear…

…all of which made this Gresham Society event feel like a doddle by way of comparison. After all, I wasn’t required to sing or play a musical instrument – indeed Tim stipulated that I was required NOT to set my talk to music.

Darn.

But of course, in his attempt to maximise my discomfort, rather than populating the place with a Professor of Music or two, which Tim tends to do when I am making music…

…on this occasion, when I am to speak, he ensured I was sitting within chatting distance of the new Professor of Rhetoric, Melissa Lane.

Joking apart, it was a great pleasure to meet Melissa – indeed the company was all relaxed, interesting and convivial, as always at Gresham Society.

There were one or two false starts ahead of my talk, to ensure that all had their after dinner beverages and that temporarily absent friends were all accounted for.

Fortunately for all concerned, when I speak for “no more than 10 minutes” the resulting talk comes in at eight or nine minutes…

…although I started with my old “I thought I’d been asked to talk for 89 minutes” gag.

AI is now capable of reading the charred remains of scrolls found near Pompeii. but apparently my handwriting is beyond the capability of any artificial intelligence yet developed or even imagined.

Anyway, above is an image of part of the talk, which was primarily about The Right Honourable, The Lord Mayor, Alderman Professor Mainelli, who might or might not be the first ever Gresham Professor to become Lord Mayor but he sure as hell is the first ever member of Gresham Society so to do and I can safely say the only business partner of mine who will ever do the Lord Mayor gig. Michael and I have worked together since we met in 1988

The audience laughed a good few times during my talk…one or two of those occasions being at times that I hoped would engender laughter. At the end of the talk, once the stony silence…I mean applause…had died down, Tim Connell presented me with a book as a gift.

One of the book’s authors, Graham Greenglass, I have known since I was a kid, through youth club stuff. I must have met Graham 10 years before I met Michael.

Here and below is a link to piece which includes a visit to Keele by Graham Greenglass, the headline being one of my better clickbait puns:

Good book, that Guildhall book of Graham’s. I have been enjoying rummaging in it.

Just as we were leaving the event, Bobbie Scully (another person I have known significantly longer than I have known Michael Mainelli) berated me for wearing a Jackson Pollock tie with a striped shirt. I wonder what she would have made of the Jackson Pollock shirt I wore a few days later:

At Horizon 22 a few days later

It was, as always, a most pleasant evening in the company of friends at Gresham Society.

Out Of Season by Neil D’Souza, Hampstead Theatre Downstairs, 2 March 2024

We really enjoyed this play.

It is a simple story about a trio of 50-something fellas who were a band when they were college age, returning to the scene of their exploits in Ibiza 30 years later.

Neil D’Souza not only wrote the play but also plays one of the lead parts, very convincingly – actually all of the actors do so: Catrin Aaron, Kerry Bennett, Peter Bramhill and James Hillier being the other four. Alice Hamilton does a grand job from the director’s chair.

Here is a link to the Hampstead resources page for this production.

The play is a comedy but it has a thoughtful and edgy twist to it too. In particular, the second half starts off full of fun and laughs, but soon “bloke meets woke” in a rather shocking way, changing the tone and bringing the story home in a nuanced way.

We really like comedies that have enough going on that we still have stuff to talk about over a meal or two afterwards. This is one of those.

Here is a link that should find plenty of reviews, which seem to have been very good almost universally.

If you only read one review, I’d suggest Anya Ryan’s from the Guardian which pretty much sums up how Janie and I felt about this piece.

Running until 23 March 2024, if you catch this write-up early enough there’s still time.