Janie and I decided to spend a day watching the grass court tournament at Queen’s this year, as well as several days at other less high-falutin’ tournaments such as Eastbourne and Wimbledon (see subsequent Ogblogs for those).
Being Wednesday, we got to see four of the Round Of 16 matches. We saw:
Lorenzo Musetti beat Ben Shelton;
Cameron Norrie beat Jordan Thompson;
Holger Rune beat Ryan Peniston;
Sebastian Korda beat Frances Tiafoe.
Lots of players we like and/or wanted to see on that list, so we were very pleased with our schedule for the day.
Returning to 2023, we took loads of photographs, more of players we weren’t going to see practicing on practice courts than pictures of our own matches.
Here’s a sample of them, ahead of a link which will allow you to skim the whole lot:
Tim Henman, Annabel Croft & Catherine WhitakerThe view from our pews – not bad – Ben Shelton getting ready to serveLorenzo Musetti in full flowDiego Schwartzman practicingLloyd Glasspool practicingDaisy & Ged model a fridge for reasons known only to the Haider marketing teamDaisy gets busy with the selfiesCam Norrie heads our wayAdrian Mannarino at practiceRyan Peniston takes the ballHolger Rune servesCommentators on a balcony behind us. At one point Annabel came and sat right behind usFrances TiafoeSebastian Korda
We had a very enjoyable day, although I must say that the Queen’s tournament feels a bit more corporate, less fun & friendly, each time we go there now.
Unfortunately Charley The Gent could not join us this year, so we added a late substitute to the group of five – Jonny “Twophones” Hurst, a friend of mine from NewsRevue. As part of his initiation into the Heavy Roller clan, Jonny & I spent some hours together during the Ireland test match a couple of weeks earlier.
The other four of us were me, Daisy, Nigel “Father Barry” Hinks and Harish “Harsha Ghoble” Gohil.
But before all of that, my now traditional stop off in Leamington for some medicinal tennis with the good doctors of that town.
Not just tennis, but a very pleasant lunch, after a very entertaining tennis match that was a close-fought affair. Five of us (four players plus Janie) sat down and the time flew by, such that I started to worry that we’d get no food and/or be late for dinner.
By the time Janie and I had done the picnic shopping, located our lovely digs in Moseley and unpacked, it was more or less time to meet Harish and Nigel for dinner. (Jonny chose to join us at the ground the next morning).
Early start for me as there was a picnic to pull together. Then a 25 minute stroll to the ground for me and Daisy. Bit of a queue, but not too bad at 10:15. We guessed that 5 or 10 minutes earlier the next day would be easier yet. We were right.
Daisy enjoyed photographing the pre match hullabaloo and our reaction to it.
Daisy also likes to photograph people behind the Eric Hollies Stand. Those people don’t seem to mind.
Who knew that Lord Farquaad and Princess Fiona were test cricket fans?
The weather was glorious and the cricket was captivating throughout our time at Edgbaston – indeed the whole match was a cracker.
We were all exhausted at the end of Day One, so went back to our respective diggings and regrouped the next morning.
Saturday 17 June 2023 – Day Two
Daisy took some more pictures during the lunch interval of Day Two.
She also persuaded our mystery lunchtime visitor to take a picture of us…
…then Ged took a picture of the mystery visitor with the Nigel, Daisy and Harish. All the while, Jonny Twophones was off on some mystery mission of his own.
Sam, who was said “mystery guest” wrote up his (apparently) terrifying experience on King Cricket, linked here and below:
In the matter of having a picture of all five of us rollers, Harish put matters right, photographically, with the following five-face selfie – very deft:
Of course it was not the same without Chas, but it was still a monumental Heavy Rollers occasion, with great company, good food and amazing cricket, lovely cricket.
Only one evening out that week – at Lord’s, for the T20 match between Middlesex & Sussex. I had planned to play tennis that afternoon and stick around for the match anyway, but the call from Jez suggesting we meet up sealed the seal.
I had a good game of doubles partnering our apprentice professional Nat. (I’m sure Nat must have learnt something by partnering me…such as “try to avoid partnering Ged in future.”)
“I can see the potential for a Middlesex win way off in the distance…2024 or 2025.”
I secured some good seats in the tavern stand, only to discover that I had plonked us behind Stephen Bough, another tennis player. I think the Tavern Stand might be “tennis player central” as running into tennis players there is becoming a habit.
Jez and his friend David (whom I hadn’t seen at the cricket for years) soon joined and we hunkered down for a good match.
I decided to stretch my legs for a while, given the exertions just an hour or two earlier, taking some decent snaps of where we were sitting from the Warner.
It was a gloriously sunny evening that whizzed by like a hobgoblin on speed..
It was an excellent game, albeit a donkey derby between two teams that had been consistently losing in the tournament. Middlesex contrived to come second yet again.
In a minor break with tradition, we gathered at that Mexican institution, Cafe Pacifico, in Covent Garden this year, at Andrea’s excellent suggestion.
In compliance with the strict traditions of our group, Andrea was late. In the modern era, Andrea is able to pre-announce her tardiness by sending a message to everyone explaining why, on this one occasion, she has been delayed. It always feels in keeping with our long-established social mores. If Andrea is ever to be on time I think she should message us to warn us of that – the shock of her timely arrival might be too great for some of our ageing tickers.
Andrea back then
Anyway, it is always worth the wait to see Andrea, just as it is always worth the wait to see everyone from the youth club gang again. We used to gather almost every week, of course – youth clubs tend to be a bit like that.
Time rolls on, but when we gather it feels as though the decades have changed this gang remarkably little. Coincidentally, Cafe Pacifico similarly felt much like the place I remember trying many decades ago; probably because it is little changed.
As always, we had a very enjoyable evening.
Wednesday 31 May – A Redoubtable Bout Of Doubles Tennis At Lord’s
Our real tennis court at Lord’s has been sequestered by the cricket authorities “for media purposes” during the major matches this year (don’t get me started) so it made obvious sense to have a game the evening before the temporary closure.
Indeed, even without the closure, I realised that it was a personal tradition for me to play the day before an Ireland test at Lord’s – I have now done so every time such a test has ever been held throughout history (both times):
This time it was a ninety minute doubles helping to warm up my friends Andrew Hinds and John Thirlwell who are partnering each other in the in-house tournament. We had a three-set epic, which my partner, Bill, and I managed to take at the very last gasp in a decider, having been one-set-all, five-games-all.
Great fun and a good battle.
Thursday 1 June – England v Ireland Day One At Lord’s
Pavilion View
I went to the gym to get a bit of exercise ahead of the excesses of a few days at Lord’s. I togged up for the pavilion and enjoyed 30-40 minutes of cricket from there before lunch, chatting with Nick Brown from Dulwich College, exchanging interesting thoughts and word on our respective initiatives on community participation cricket.
After lunch, it seemed if anything to get colder in the pavilion. Then the sun came out and I realised that the pavilion would warm up slowly, whereas I might warm up more quickly in one of my favoured sunny spots in the Tavern Stand – if I could get there before the stampede from the chilly Pavilion and Warner.
Made it. No sweat. It was still quite cold, even in the sun, so no sweat.
I watched and read a bit, interrupted only by the arrival of Sidney Yankson & his entourage – I was inadvertently sitting behind their chosen patch. Sidney is one of my real tennis pals, whom I first met when he organised a match between the MCC and Honourable Artillery Company five years ago.
Mid afternoon I received a message from Jonny “Twophones” Hurst to say that he had a spare seat in the Compton Lower and was wondering whether I would care to join him and his mate, Huge Morg. Who could say no to such an invitation.
Jonny Twophones & Huge Morg
We spent the rest of the afternoon watching cricket and nattering…which is not exactly an unusual combination of pastimes when a Lord’s.
All very enjoyable.
Friday 2 June – England v Ireland Day Two With Awesome Simo
I decided to get to Lord’s well early to secure good Tavern Stand seats for me and Simon Jacobs. I figured that the previous day’s good weather and the sunny start would make the Tavern Stand very popular, which it did.
Despite being on picnic duty which included some hand-made onion bagels from Papa Joseph’s place, I was still early enough to secure a brace of end of block seats in the second row.
Tavern Stand seats with excellent view of Jonny Bairstow’s warm-upsI also wanted to tell Janie, pictorially, that I had arrived safe, sane & sound
Simon arrived around 11:30, but not before my row had been invaded by several real tennis “stars” in exile from our beloved court with only cricket to watch: Tony Friend, Simon Martin & (latterly) James Coley.
An engineer trying in vain properly to equip a 19th century tennis court for 21st century media.
Unfortunately, much like the chinwag occasion, Simon simply couldn’t help himself in the matter of mentioning the names of despicable politicians, usually just after I had eaten a few mouthfuls of delicious smoked trout bagel or some of my “salad-in-a-cup” morsels. “Cruella” being the cruellest mid-mouthful blurt of the lot.
Still, we managed to get over all that and enjoy a glorious sunny day watching the cricket.
I did so little getting up and walking around on this day that I thought my right leg had utterly gone to sleep when I finally gave up on the day about 15 minutes before stumps – Simon had baled out about 10 minutes earlier. Fortunately the walk to Edgware Road tube brought my leg back to life.
I have no idea why a day of doing more or less nothing is so tiring, but I always feel in need of a long deep sleep after such a day of cricket and achieve same without any difficulty. Some people sleep during the cricket, of course, which is an entirely different matter and not usually my thing.
Saturday 3 June – England v Ireland Day Three With Daisy
We might only be here for six balls
We had no idea what to expect of Day Three. The result was pretty much no longer in doubt, but we wondered whether Ireland might collapse within an hour or make a day of it. They did the latter, very well.
We got to Lord’s well early, mostly to get a decent parking space rather than a decent seat but the early arrival meant that we achieved both.
That allowed us plenty of time to observe the England team warming up and interacting with the crowd.
Josh TongueMatty PottsChris WoakesChris & OllieWe need help to identify these three. Any ideas?Early morning autograph hunters
We did a bit of strolling around but mostly watched the cricket during the hours of play and chose to stroll during the lunch interval. The place was busy but not heaving on Day Three.
Daisy’s mum, The Duchess, seems to be moonlighting as a fast food outlet
I ran into yet another of my real tennis pals, Alastair Robson, during a pit stop, or “in the jacks” as Alastair so politely put it. Janie and I chatted with him for a while before the resumption, although we’ll hopefully have plenty of time to chat with him in Leamington in less than two week’s time on our way to Edgbaston.
The match even went on until tea, during which time, while politely putting away most of our things as the end was clearly nigh, I also did a bit of stretching.
A dedicated follower of fashionat tea
When England took the final wicket we made our escape ahead of the crowds, realising that a lead of 11 runs was not going to take much hunting down.
Thanks to David Wellbrook for the above picture of me, him & Rohan Candappa
Tuesday 23 May – Brasserie Zédel With Wellbrook & Candappa
I’ve known Rohan Candappa & David Wellbrook for very nearly 50 years now. Rohan is very good at keeping in touch and occasionally just saying, “let’s meet” and/or “there’s something I want to chat through with you fellas”.
We responded to the call. David booked Brasserie Zédel, a favourite place of his. As it happens, I had wanted to try the place for some time, ever since I discovered that my grandfather, Lew Marcus, worked there for decades as a barber in the Regent Palace Hotel, rising to the giddy heights of manager I am told:
Anyway, we were there to chew the fat, catch up and the like. I think I have persuaded Rohan and David to provide some “Fifty Years Ago” reflections on the opening overs of our Alleyn’s School career, as I remember so little about the very early days and didn’t start my diary until January 1974.
Rohan wanted to discuss his thoughts on positive proposals following his extensive fundraising around mental health, not least reframing the language used around that subject.
It became a little difficult to have profound conversation once the jazz trio got started. With two of them sporting flat caps, I thought they might name themselves “Jazz & Dave”.
Always good to catch up with those two. Good food & drink at that place too.
Always great to catch up with John – it had been a while so we had a bit of catching up to do. But we shall be seeing each other again within the month, along with “the girls” and Pady. Part of our catching up comprised planning that gathering.
Thursday 25 May – Lord’s For Sunrisers v South East Stars & Middlesex v Surrey, With Janie
Cullen Bowls To The Curran Brothers
Our plan, which more or less worked, was to get to Lord’s around 15:00 and watch as much of the double-header as took our fancy. The weather smiled on us, for sure, so we took root in Janie’s favourite place, the pavilion sun deck.
In truth, the afternoon women’s game, between the Sunrisers and South East Stars, was somewhat of a damp squib, both in terms of the cricket and also the atmosphere…or lack thereof. Midweek afternoon games work great when youngsters are off school. In term time, the timing virtually guaranteed a tiny crowd before the evening.
A reasonable number of member stalwarts (MCC and MCCC) turned up for both matches, but there was almost no atmosphere for the women’s match, which is a shame.
There was a decent (but not full) crowd for the Middlesex v Surrey fixture.
Anyway, we were enjoying ourselves. But the Surrey score batting first seemed high and the chill of the evening was starting to tell, so we decided to go home and watch the almost inevitable ending of the match on TV.
You probably don’t want to see the scorecards but here they are anyway:
Friday 26 May – Dedanists v Jesters At The Queen’s Club
I was delighted to be selected again to represent The Dedanists in this absolutely crucial real tennis fixture with The Jesters.
If anyone from Alleyn’s School is still reading at this juncture, you might be interested to know that the very first Jesters fixture was in late 1928 – a Rugby Fives match between the nascent Jesters and Alleyn Old Boys.
Actually, in truth, this is one of those fixtures where half the people playing are members of both clubs and half the time it’s hard to work out who is representing which club. Indeed on this occasion I found myself (together with Simon Cripps) playing for the Dedanists but playing against our team captain, Martin Village, who paired up with Anton Eisdell.
I’m glad to say I managed to maintain a winning streak in the matter of match play in Dedanists fixtures at Queen’s, having recently lost my Lowenthal Trophy crown there to, amongst others, Mr Eisdell. The piece linked here and below also describes this Jesters fixture from last year.
It was a thoroughly delightful afternoon and evening – my first (but hopefully not last) opportunity to partner Simon Cripps – who kept getting me out of trouble and who in truth was the key to our success as a pair. Also an opportunity to meet and chat with lots of delightful and interesting people.
It also gave me the opportunity to check up on the progress of the seats I have booked for me and Janie to enjoy the Wednesday of Queen’s this year.
Janie loved this piece. In truth, I found it a little mawkish.
The short scenes only occasionally allowed enough space for the emotional impact to flourish.
Lights out theatre?
To be fair, the piece did “exactly what it says on the tin”, in terms of cataloguing the deaths that enter the orbit of one character, Graciela, throughout her life.
Being The Finborough, of course it was all very well acted and extremely well produced, within the limitations of one of the most pint-sized theatres above a pub anywhere.
Let us not forget that The Finborough won “Pub Theatre of the Year 2022” despite there not being an actual pub below then or indeed now.
All the cast were very good, but Vivia Font stood out in the lead role, morphing from tantrum-ready nipper to accepting oldster via all the stages of life in between.
There was a Q&A with the playwright and cast afterwards, but we didn’t stay for it, hungry for a Persian meal that we would not be able to procure after the Q&A.
On exit, we ran into one of my real tennis friends, Tony Joyce, and his good lady. I thought this was quite a coincidence, especially as they are not regular Finborough-istas – indeed they were trying the place for the first time. Tony agreed, not least because, as he said:
…we two couples made up nearly a quarter of the audience.
Slight exaggeration that – I think the place has room for 40 or so people each performance, but still.
It didn’t rain – indeed the weather was ideally pleasant. No new variant of Covid suddenly broke out to prohibit gatherings at the cricket matches. Neither sling nor arrow of outrageous fortune befell us to frustrate our simple purpose: Janie and I wanted to host Fran and Simon at Lord’s and show them the pavilion.
The idea of the four of us spending a day together at Lord’s had been under discussion for about five years, frustrated by various unfortunate circumstances along the lines of the above paragraph. Given the iffy weather so far this season, we did indeed feel blessed to wake up to a weather forecast that suggested dry and mild, which indeed it turned out to be.
Fran (she of Pinner pears) and Yorkshire Simon (he of crude courgettes) had both been to Lord’s many times, but not recently and not previously in the pavilion. We had previously spent time with them on several occasions at outgrounds, but not at Lord’s.
Simon, Fran & Me at Radlett in 2019Me, Simon and Simon’s courgette, Radlett 2021
Anyway…
…on their arrival, we showed Fran and Simon the upper sun deck of the pavilion – Janie’s favourite place – which both of them took to immediately, so the four of us basically took root up there.
At lunch we showed them around the pavilion and also showed them the real tennis court, where a couple of my friends were doing battle but didn’t seem all that delighted to be observed; occupational hazard of choosing the 13:00 tennis slot on a match day.
Fran and Simon had brought lunch with them, whereas Janie and I had a crazy craving for the Long Room baps and salad, which we indulged in early in the afternoon session. Janie also indulged in a slice of cake in the member’s lounge.
Sam Robson bowling filth just before teaJanie took this picture during tea, before going to the lounge for cake
It was really nice to see Fran and Simon again after quite some while. We did a fair bit of catching up, general chatting and even cricket-watching.
In short – we four had a lovely day. Middlesex didn’t.
Reminiscing today about Tom, the so-called manager of the place, took me back to my scanty notes I made about his ludicrous bragging. I decided to ask ChatGPT to help me flesh out the story, 17 years on. Make of it what you will.
Tom’s Own Words In 2006
“I was a millionaire at 21…a multi-millionaire at 24…lost it all at 33. I’ve been out with Miss Jamaica, Miss Bromsgrove, the lot. I had an Aston Martin – would cost about £125,000 today. Do fast cars while you’re young, young man, you won’t fancy it once you are your dad’s age. I made a million when a million was real money. When a million was really a million…”
My Initial Brief To ChatGPT
My friends and I stayed at a terrible hotel once, where the manager was a braggard and an old bore named Tom. Here are some of the things he said: [see "Tom's Own Words" above]. Tom's stories were completely implausible. Please generate dialogue between an earnest investigator trying to get the truth out of Tom and the answers that Tom might give to those questions.
ChatGPT’s Initial Answers
Investigator: Good afternoon, Tom. I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to talk to you about some of the stories you’ve shared with my friends and me. They were quite intriguing, to say the least. You mentioned being a millionaire at 21. Could you tell me more about that?
Tom: Ah, yes, my young friend, those were the days! I had a real knack for business, you see. I started my own company at a young age and made some shrewd investments. By the time I turned 21, I had accumulated quite a fortune.
Investigator: That’s remarkable, Tom. Can you share any details about the business you started or the investments you made?
Tom: Well, you see, it was a rather niche market. I established a company that dealt with importing exotic goods from faraway lands. My keen eye for unique products allowed me to tap into a market hungry for the extraordinary. As for my investments, I dabbled in real estate and stocks, making some fortunate choices along the way.
Investigator: Impressive, Tom. And you mentioned becoming a multi-millionaire at 24. What led to that significant increase in your wealth?
Tom: Ah, yes, my friend, that was a turning point in my life. By that time, my business had expanded, and I had ventured into different sectors, including technology and entertainment. I struck gold with some savvy investments and became a multi-millionaire in no time.
Investigator: That sounds incredible, Tom. Can you share any specific ventures or investments that contributed to your success?
Tom: Oh, my memory is a bit hazy on the specifics, you see. But trust me, it was a combination of visionary investments in emerging markets and strategic partnerships that propelled me to new heights. I was always ahead of the curve, spotting trends before they became mainstream.
Investigator: I see. You also mentioned losing it all at 33. That must have been quite a setback. Can you shed some light on what happened?
Tom: Ah, yes, a rather unfortunate turn of events, I must say. The economic landscape changed, and I made some ill-fated decisions. There were some risky ventures and unforeseen circumstances that ultimately led to my financial downfall. But it’s not about the money, my friend. It’s about the experiences and lessons learned along the way.
Investigator: Indeed, experiences and lessons are invaluable. Now, about your claim of dating Miss Jamaica and Miss Bromsgrove, among others. That’s quite impressive. How did you manage to attract such remarkable companions?
Tom: (Chuckles) Ah, well, my friend, in my younger days, I had a certain charm about me. I frequented social events and mingled with high-profile individuals. It was through these interactions that I had the pleasure of spending time with some extraordinary women, including those you mentioned. Life was quite the adventure, I must say.
Investigator: Fascinating, Tom. And what about your Aston Martin? That’s a luxurious car, indeed. How did you come to possess such a prestigious vehicle?
Tom: Ah, the Aston Martin! A symbol of my youthful exuberance. I was fortunate enough to acquire it during a time when I had the means to indulge in such extravagances. It was a testament to my success, a reward for my hard work and ambition.
Investigator: I see. Finally, you mentioned making a million when a million was real money. Could you elaborate on that?
Tom: Ah, those were different times, my friend. Back then, the value of a million pounds held much greater significance. It was a benchmark of success, a milestone that only a few could achieve. Today, with inflation and the changing…
Investigator: Ah, I see. So, Tom, it seems like you’ve had quite a remarkable journey filled with ups and downs. However, I must admit that some of the details you’ve shared raise a few questions. For instance, the timeline of your achievements and the specific events you mentioned seem somewhat implausible. Is there any chance that you might have exaggerated or embellished certain aspects of your stories?
Tom: My dear investigator, I assure you that every word I’ve spoken is rooted in truth. Memories can fade, and the specifics may become blurred over time, but the essence of my experiences remains intact. Sometimes, the grandeur of the stories we tell is what keeps the magic alive.
Investigator: I understand the allure of storytelling, Tom, but it’s crucial for me to ascertain the accuracy of the information. If you could provide any concrete evidence or additional details that support your claims, it would greatly help in establishing the authenticity of your experiences.
Tom: Ah, evidence, you say? Unfortunately, my dear investigator, the passage of time has a way of eroding physical proof. But what I can offer you is the wisdom gained from a life well-lived. The lessons I learned, the people I met, and the experiences that shaped me—those are the intangible treasures that far surpass any material evidence.
Investigator: I appreciate your perspective, Tom, but as an investigator, my duty is to seek tangible facts and verifiable information. Without any concrete evidence or corroborating accounts, it becomes challenging to validate the extraordinary nature of your stories. Is there anything else you can provide that might lend credibility to your claims?
Tom: I understand your position, investigator, and I respect your dedication to seeking the truth. While I may not possess concrete evidence that meets your standards, I hope you can find value in the lessons embedded within my tales. Sometimes, the purpose of storytelling is not merely to convey facts but to inspire, entertain, and ignite the imagination.
Investigator: Your point about the power of storytelling is valid, Tom. Stories indeed have the ability to captivate and inspire. However, it’s important to strike a balance between the allure of tales and the integrity of the information being presented. I’ll take your words into consideration as I continue my investigation.
Tom: I appreciate your open-mindedness, investigator. Life is a tapestry woven with truth, embellishments, and a touch of fantasy. If my stories have sparked curiosity or brought a glimmer of wonder into your world, then perhaps they have served their purpose. Remember, the journey is often as significant as the destination.
Investigator: Thank you for your perspective, Tom. I will keep that in mind as I proceed. If there’s anything else you’d like to share or any additional information that might support your claims, please don’t hesitate to let me know.
Next I Tried A Different Tack To Try To Get More Out Of Tom Via ChatGPT
Rather than an investigator, can we see what happens if my wife, Janie, were to ask Tom the questions. She is not a professional psychotherapist, but people tend to open up to her and tell her the truth when she asks them open questions. She would ask her questions earnestly but not inquisitively like the investigator. She would delve a little deeper into his psyche, but in a non-threatening way.
ChatGPT Responded With This Dialogue Between Janie & Tom
Wife (Janie): Good afternoon, Tom. I hope you’re doing well today. I wanted to have a chat with you because I find your stories quite intriguing. They seem to reflect a life filled with ups and downs, successes and setbacks. I’m curious to understand more about the emotions and experiences behind those stories. Can you share with me how it felt to be a millionaire at such a young age?
Tom: Well, hello there, Janie. It’s kind of you to take an interest in my experiences. Being a millionaire at a young age was a mix of excitement, pride, and a sense of accomplishment. I felt like I had the world at my feet, that I was invincible in a way. There was a certain thrill in achieving financial success early on, but it also came with its own set of challenges and responsibilities.
Janie: It sounds like it was a significant milestone for you, Tom. With success often come lessons. Can you tell me about any valuable lessons or insights you gained during that time?
Tom: Absolutely, Janie. One of the most valuable lessons I learned was the importance of humility and staying grounded. Money can be a powerful force, and it’s easy to get carried away. I realized that wealth alone does not bring lasting happiness or fulfillment. It’s the relationships we cultivate, the experiences we cherish, and the impact we have on others that truly matter.
Janie: That’s a profound realization, Tom. It speaks to the deeper meaning and purpose in life. Now, when you mentioned losing it all at 33, I can only imagine the emotional toll it must have taken. Can you share how that experience affected you on a personal level?
Tom: (Pauses) Losing everything was undoubtedly a devastating blow, Janie. It was a period of immense challenge and introspection. I faced feelings of regret, disappointment, and even self-doubt. But it was also a transformative time, a chance to reassess my priorities and rediscover my inner strength. It taught me resilience and the importance of bouncing back from adversity.
Janie: It takes great strength to rebuild after such a setback, Tom. Did that experience change your perspective on wealth and success?
Tom: Absolutely, Janie. Losing it all forced me to redefine my definition of success. I realized that true wealth goes beyond material possessions. It lies in the richness of our experiences, the depth of our connections, and the positive impact we have on the world around us. It shifted my focus from solely chasing financial gain to finding fulfillment in more meaningful aspects of life.
Janie: It sounds like you underwent a profound transformation, Tom. Relationships play a significant role in our lives. When you mentioned dating remarkable women like Miss Jamaica and Miss Bromsgrove, what do you think attracted them to you?
Tom: (Chuckles) Well, Janie, I believe it was a combination of factors. I’ve always been fascinated by people, their stories, and their dreams. I genuinely enjoyed connecting with others on a deeper level, listening to them, and understanding their perspectives. I think that genuine interest in others and a desire to make them feel valued and heard played a part in attracting remarkable women into my life.
Janie: That’s lovely, Tom. It seems like your genuine curiosity and empathy created meaningful connections. Now, about the Aston Martin you mentioned, what significance did it hold for you beyond its luxurious appeal?
Tom: Ah, the Aston Martin. It was more than just a car, Janie. It represented a symbol of achievement, a tangible reminder of my hard work and success. But it also served as a reminder to savor life’s pleasures and to appreciate the beauty and craftsmanship that can exist in the world. It was a source of joy
Finally, I Asked ChatGPT To Use A Blunter Instrument On Tom And His Boasts
Cool. Can we now imagine that Tom's pyramid of piffle has been exposed as nonsense. Please produce a 500 word confession and statement of truth from Tom.
ChatGPT Then Produced This
Tom: I must admit, it seems my elaborate tales have finally caught up with me. I can no longer hide behind the smoke and mirrors of my exaggerations and fabrications. It’s time to come clean, to strip away the layers of falsehood and present you with the truth.
The truth is, I was never a millionaire at 21 or a multi-millionaire at 24. Those were mere fantasies, figments of my imagination crafted to create an aura of success and grandeur. I indulged in the allure of being someone I wasn’t, weaving tales to captivate and impress those around me.
The Aston Martin I mentioned? It was nothing more than a fleeting dream, a symbol of status that I never possessed. I let my imagination run wild, painting a picture of a glamorous lifestyle that was far removed from reality. The truth is, I’ve never owned such a luxurious car or experienced the thrill of driving it.
As for my supposed encounters with Miss Jamaica, Miss Bromsgrove, and other remarkable women, they were nothing more than fabrications. I embellished my interactions, seeking to enhance my own image and portray myself as someone who attracted extraordinary companions. But the truth is, my romantic endeavors were far more ordinary and unremarkable.
I understand that my stories may have captivated and entertained, but I deeply regret misleading those who trusted my words. I was driven by a need for validation, a desire to be seen as someone remarkable and accomplished. In doing so, I lost sight of the genuine connections and honest interactions that bring true fulfillment.
I apologize for the deception and disappointment caused by my tales. It’s time to face the truth, to embrace humility, and to learn from my mistakes. I hope that, in acknowledging the truth, I can rebuild trust and approach life with a newfound authenticity.
From this moment forward, I pledge to embrace honesty, to celebrate the beauty of genuine experiences, and to find meaning in the simplicity of truth. My journey may not have been as extraordinary as the stories I once wove, but it is an honest one, filled with lessons, growth, and the potential for genuine connections.
Thank you for listening and allowing me to come clean. It is a humbling experience, but one that I believe will lead me towards a more authentic and fulfilling path.
The garage couldn’t find anything wrong with him, but he felt a bit sluggish, especially when attempting to drive uphill.
Dumbo’s Adventures In Essex, 2 May 2023
I had arranged to have a couple of practice games with my doubles partner Howard, ahead of the Dedanists’ Trophy this year. One was at Lord’s in April, the second we arranged at Howard’s home court, Prested Hall in Essex.
Noddyland sunset with Dumbo just visible in the foreground
Did the above stunning sunset outside our window foreshadow trouble soon to come? No.
However, almost as soon as I got going at pace in the direction of Prested, Dumbo’s amber hazard light came on and I sensed the sluggishness above 50 mph. By that time I was committed to the M25 route, on which going above 50-60 mph is rarely an option anyway.
A good game of real tennis doubles with a really friendly bunch of people. Then after coffee and a bun, I set off on a Byrd watching trail.
Just a few miles down the road, Stondon Massey, where William Byrd lived. I took some refreshments in the pub and got my bearings – then drove on to the 12th Century Church where Byrd was almost certainly laid to rest.
Hey – are you looking at my Byrd?
I decided to limp home on A-roads and the North Circular rather than risk Dumbo on the M25, although by the time I had filled up with petrol the amber light had gone off and Dumbo seemed less sluggish.
Interim Verdict On Dumbo – Nothing To See Here, 3 May 2023
Dumbo seemed fine taking me and Janie to Boston Manor to play modern tennis.
Well played, Dumbo
We took him in to see Derek at Smallbills who surmised that the amber warning light was probably a falsey, as it rectified itself. This seemed logical.
Next Day, Absolutely Fine Until…
I headed off to Lord’s the next day for a short lesson and game of real tennis. All seemed fine with Dumbo until I turned onto the A40 at Gypsy Corner, at which point, in the middle lane, Dumbo decided that 5mph was his absolute maximum.
There are times of day when 5mph on the A40 would be just fine. This wasn’t one of those times. The road was not so busy as to keep the traffic at a snail’s pace, but busy enough to make my predicament hair-raising. I had the presence of mind to put my hazards on and quite quickly managed to get into the slow lane. I also worked out that, unless I stopped completely, I should limp to Savoy Circus and turn off at Old Oak Common Lane, from whence I could hopefully limp onto Du Cane Road and take stock there.
Taking stock basically comprised paying for Dumbo to park for the rest of the day and going about my planned business for a few hours by Uber.
Dall-E’s image choices for my description reminds me that the situation could have been much worse. Also reminds me that I should have specified “Black Suzuki Jimny”.
Mr Uber got me to Lord’s and on court just five minutes late and I had a good game after my short lesson. My friend Bill, who is a fellow Ealingista, kindly gave me a lift back to Dumbo, from whence I phoned the AA, grabbed some refreshments from the local cafe and waited.
The AA app repeatedly told me that someone would be with me in 40 minutes…for about an hour.
An Impromptu London Cricket Trust Inspection On Wormwood Scrubbs
There is an adage that, in London, you are never more than 10 feet away from a rat. This adage is almost certainly untrue. But, in similar vein, I started to wonder whether you are never more than 10 minutes walk from a London Cricket Trust (LCT) cricket facility.
My trusty smart phone confirmed my suspicions – indeed I was only 10 minutes walk away from the non-turf pitch we (LCT) installed on Wormwood Scrubbs a couple of years ago.
With a 40 minute wait still showing on my app and a yearning to stretch my legs and see a cricket pitch, I strode away from Dumbo, walked the length of the Scrubbs and inspected the pitch.
The Scrubbs was very quiet around 5:30 pm
Then back to Dumbo and a few minutes later a nice AA chap named Mathew who concluded that Dumbo would need the full recovery treatment. Daisy was on standby to recover me and take me back to the house where we awaited the call from the recovery vehicle man. It was about 10:00 when we got that call.
Janie reassures Dumbo despite Wormwood Scrubbs Nick in the background
In truth Dumbo was being taken back to Smallbills, who had been forewarned to expect to find him outside their gates in the morning.
Dumbo Redux, Queen’s & Cityland, 10 & 11 May 2023
Coincidentally, word reached me that Dumbo was all better when I was at Queen’s, playing in the tournament for which I had been preparing on those ill-fated trips.
“A completely collapsed cat” apparently, but no animals were hurt in the repairing of Dumbo. A relief that the problem was readily identifiable and entirely fixable.
It was a day of coincidences at Queen’s. It’s a wonderful thing that e-tickets can be supplied to you through the ether wherever in the world you might be. Janie’s and my tickets for the Wednesday of Queen’s came through to me while I was at Queen’s.
I thought I’d pop outside to take a look at my seats, but, like a 1970s hotel in Spain, my seats were still work in progress.
Come the day they’ll be lovely.
The next day, I rescued Dumbo in the morning. The whole street must have wanted to welcome him home, because for the first time in as long as I can remember, the parking space outside my “Cityland” residence was waiting for him.
I hate to sound smug…actually that’s not true…I delight in the smug thought that it was my idea to book this one, back in November when the Bush Theatre spring season was first announced.
Janie had of course consented to booking it but then largely forgotten all about it, as indeed had I, until the date grew near and we re-engaged with the production.
“Isn’t Lenny Henry a stand-up comedian? I don’t like stand-up comedy,” said Janie.
“He moved on from stand-up comedy a long time ago. Lenny Henry writes – this is a proper play.”
“Do you think he’ll be there on the night?”, asked Janie, who had clearly retained even less about this production than I had.
“I do hope so. It is a one-man show written and performed by Lenny Henry, so it will be more than a little bit disappointing if he doesn’t show up.
Lenny Henry did show up. His grounding in stand-up comedy was never too far away. He opens the play by endearing himself to the audience, not least by giving a few lucky punters a tot of rum. He then tells the story of his character, August Henderson, through a mixture of witty, bitter-sweet and some out-and-out funny anecdotes.
August’s life in Dudley/West Bromwich echoes that of the young Lenny Henry, although August must have been born a few years before Lenny Henry and, unlike Henry himself, the August character was born in Jamaica and brought to England by his mum as an infant. This subtle distinction is fundamentally important as the story unfolds.
Lenny Henry has superb stage presence. Not only does he still “have what it takes” to deliver anecdotes like a top-drawer stand-up comedian, he also dramatizes August’s sad story masterfully through words, expressions and movement. He tells the tale of his love for Clarice and the three children they produce. Also his love of reggae and ska music. His anecdote about skinheads especially resonated with me:
They loved reggae and ska in the beginning, but after a while they stopped loving us. I still don’t know what changed.
I’ve always wondered about that.
The nub of August’s story – or at least its denouement – is the Windrush scandal – the appalling 2012 Government policy creating a “hostile environment” for people who do not have leave to remain in the UK. While this policy was not targeted at people who had been British citizens in former Empire and Commonwealth countries, thousands of people from the Windrush generation – mostly people who came as children from the Caribbean in the 1950s and 1960s, were caught by this ill-considered change in law and policy. People lost their homes and/or their jobs – many were even deported, despite protections that had been enshrined in earlier laws specifically to prevent such injustices. I shouldn’t get on my own political high horse about this, but I’m going to anyway – the whole affair was a shambolic political sh*t-shower which made me (and many others who share my sense of justice) profoundly ashamed of my own Government.
August’s story unfolds with more subtlety than my paragraph above. Yes, really.
The ending of the play is shocking, poignant and thought-provoking. I especially liked the technique – borrowed from verbatim theatre – of getting several real people who were caught up in these injustices to tell their own stories on the screen. It brought home the reality in a way that the comedy drama – delivered by Lenny Henry’s flawed but loveable character August – could not manage alone.
Here is a link to the Bush resources on this play/production. I’d recommend this play/production highly. Unfortunately this run is sold out, but hopefully it will get a transfer as it deserves a bigger audience than five or six weeks-worth of Bush Theatre aficionados.
