Michael Gambon & Eileen Atkins couldn’t save this slight play for us.
Yasmina Reza was all the rage at that time, not least because of Art, so this play transferred for a while – indeed we missed it at The Pit, seeing it at The Duchess (but not WITH The Duchess).
Nicholas de Jongh in the Standard really liked it:
With thanks to DALL-E for collaboration with the images
This is the tale of a memorable moment, a short and sweet vignette, that went on to help forge many years, indeed decades of friendship and kinship over cricket.
The Sweet Anecdote Of That July Day
I had arranged to spend the afternoon with Jeff Tye at a Children’s Society project in Mitcham; one that Jeff had chosen to be a pilot in our seminal performance measurement and recording project, MART.
I think I had already arranged to visit my parents in Streatham that evening, so I think there was an element of opportunism in the choice of project, although I recall that Mitcham was one that Jeff was especially keen to involve.
I had arranged to pick Jeff up from Children’s Society HQ, having spent the morning with another client relatively nearby (Regents Park).
Jeff was a relatively new client to me then – I think I had only met him a couple of times before this day. I remember rehearsing in my mind a way to broach the question of possibly putting the radio on with test match special as we drove from Clerkenwell to Mitcham. I ended up with a form of words along these lines, just before starting the engine:
Please feel free simply to say no, but would you mind if I put the radio on with test match commentary as we drive from here to Mitcham?
Jeff beamed from ear to ear.
Oh my goodness, I’d been wondering all morning whether or how to ask you exactly the same question. I’m so pleased you asked me!
I thought Jeff might give me a hug, he seemed so pleased.
As we drove along, Jeff explained to me that almost everyone I knew and was working with in that charity was fanatical about cricket, not least: Ian Sparks, Edward Bates, Charles Bartlett, Nigel Hinks and himself.
He also explained that he and several others (including Nigel and Charles) had recently spent a day at Edgbaston watching the first day of the test series.
Jeff and I did our bit at that Mitcham project. When we came out, the sun was shining on a glorious summer’s day. I had arranged to drop Jeff at Tooting and then go on to my folks.
Janie, with Nobby, at his last resting place
I had recently acquired Nobby; my wonderful souped-down Honda CRX, which was convertible by dint of removing its solid roof. Jeff was keen to enjoy the benefit of that, even for a short drive.
You’ve got to take advantage of that feature when you can. How many times have you taken the roof off? [Once before, I think was the answer. Perhaps twice.] Anyway, you’ve got to show off that feature to your parents by arriving at their house with the open top.
Of course Jeff was right. So there we were – big Jeff – quite clearly oversized for a small car like Nobby – in the passenger seat – me – in the driving seat – driving along Tooting Broadway and Tooting High Street, listening to the cricket.
South Africa were only four down and nearing 200. I stopped at some traffic lights. Then a crescendo from the radio:
…the umpire’s given him…
Jonty Rhodes, LBW, b Angus Fraser.
Jeff and I both cheered and (to the extent that you can leap when wearing a seatbelt) leapt in the air. Passers by must have thought that we were a pair of lunatics.
The Traditions Forged
Those summer weeks of 1998 were, for me, a reawakening of my devotion to cricket. We had arranged a second game of cricket with the Barnardo’s people; I re-engineered it to include Children’s Society folk as well as Z/Yen and Barnardo’s
Of course, I cannot write the story of the actual origins of The Heavy Rollers. That story can only be written by one of the people who attended Day One of the Edgbaston Test in June, witnessing a rare example in those days of England batting long.
In fact – let’s name names here – the true Heavy Rollers origins story can probably only be written by Nigel “Father Barry” Hinks, who can also relate tales of proto-visits to matches with colleagues before the 1998 outing that is deemed, by all the leading authorities, to be the first actual Heavy Rollers event.
It’s hard to believe that the Heavy Rollers tradition will be quarter-of-a-century old this year, as I write in January 2023.
When I look at the names connected with the, for me, seminal summer of cricket that was 1998, I am still in touch with so many of them. Not just the Heavy Rollers, but also Kevin Parker and Ian Theodoreson who initiated the playing of cricket tradition that was later adopted even more wholeheartedly by the Children’s Society gang. Even Angus Fraser, who took the wicket that made me and Jeff leap. is still in my orbit, through my Middlesex and Lord’s activities.
I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.
Quintessential Harris shot, late 1990s: the uppish leg-side hoick
Between 1984 and 1998 I pretty much didn’t play cricket at all. Perhaps the odd knock around when I was in my mid twenties, then there were the dog years of the early 1990s following my catastrophic back injury in the summer of 1990. After that, my cricket “career” was limited to a bit of watching and the odd umpiring stint…
…until the summer of 1998.
That summer, Z/Yen was still doing work with Barnardo’s and had also by then got heavily involved with The Children’s Society. Thus it transpired that our main client contacts, especially at the latter, were keen cricketers.
But the initial challenge came from Barnardo’s and I think it was Kevin Parker who initially picked up the challenge. The idea was promulgated with the blessing of Barnardo’s senior folk, Ian Theodoreson and Bob Harvey, but sadly not their presence.
So like buses, no cricket for years and then two matches came along in a row. The first of them was just Z/Yen and Barnardo’s.
Z/Yen – a tiny company with about 10 employees in those days. Barnardo’s employed several thousand people, a great many of whom worked at the Barkingside campus.
Barnardo’s had quite a lot of people who knew what they were doing for a cricket match…
One of the Barnardo’s IT team, if I recall correctly
…whereas Z/Yen didn’t. I press-ganged a few likely folk and we tried our best against adversity, but adversity…by which I mean Barnardo’s…were destined to win.
By the time we got to this first match, I think that the plans for a second match, which ended up including people from The Children’s Society, were already in place, so I think we all saw this first one as a bit of a warm up.
But Micky’s one and only experience of cricket had very little to do with warm up. Micky is from Belgium and fancied having a go. He’s that sort of “have a go” chap. Back in 1998, he wasn’t exactly displacing a queue of Z/Yen people who wanted to play…
…let’s be honest about this, we were struggling to get a team together; hence the cunning plan to bring in The Children’s Society enthusiasts for the next one.
…I thought Micky might be safest patrolling the boundary.
But Micky did no warming up or keeping warm exercise ahead of the ball coming vaguely in his direction about 20-30 minutes into the match. He set off enthusiastically around the outfield only to pull up with a hamstring tear some 10 yards shy of the ball.
So when it was Z/Yen’s turn to bat, we not only had to explain the way batting works to Micky, we also had to provide him with a runner and explain how that arcane aspect of the laws of cricket works too.
Not ideal.
Yet still a good time was being had by all.
My other very clear memory is my own experience batting in partnership with a gentleman named Nigel. He was Karen Moore’s partner or husband, so qualified to play for Z/Yen on those grounds. He might otherwise have seemed like a ringer.
Nigel was no cricketer but he was a fitness instructor and had a Mr Motivator manner and clearly was a talented all-round sportsman.
I was scratching away, barely able to put bat on ball…
…well I hadn’t played for 14 years or so…
…until Nigel came to the crease, only to start whacking the ball using just hand-eye and natural talent.
Come on Ian, you can do it…
…Nigel hollered encouragingly and convincingly from the non-strikers end. And strangely, feeding off Nigel’s ill-founded confidence in me and the freedom that added to my game, I started to score some runs and contribute well to our partnership.
OK, we couldn’t turn the game around, but we had a decent knock – perhaps I put on 10-12 – which I remember making me feel well chuffed.
I think the match took place near Barkingside – I think Fairlop – perhaps Old Parkonians – my diary is silent on detail.
Postscript: my memory has served me well. I wrote this up for Now & Z/Yen at the time thusly:
Z/Yen defied all the spread bets by coming a close second in a cricket competition in late July, against Barnardo’s, at Fairlop. Z/Yen highlights included Jane Beazley taking a wicket, Michael Mainelli scoring 16 runs “baseball style”, Michel Einhorn pulling a hamstring and a stunning undefeated partnership of 36 runs in three overs between Ian Harris and Nigel Moore.
None of these stunts were enough to prevent Barnardo’s from deservedly winning by 23 runs. Unlike our good friends at Barnardo’s, Z/Yen took the obvious precaution of bringing some children along with us, only one of whom succeeded in getting a black eye trying to retrieve the ball. It was an amazing summer evening, which showed the weather characteristics of spring, autumn and winter during the two hours of play. The weather improved once we retired to the sports centre for beer and cake. Watch out for the next similar event; it was a smashing evening.
The full stack of pictures (from both matches) might help savvy locals to work it out:
That suggests that we didn’t get a great deal out of this one, unusually for Mamet. Possibly we just felt that we’d seen a lot of material like this before.
Was it three short plays or one play with three somewhat disconnected scene?. I wrote down
The Disappearance of the Jews, Jolly and Deeny.
Splendid cast: Linal Haft, Colin Stinton, Zoe Wanamaker, Vincent Marzello and Diana Quick, directed by Patrick Marber.
In honour of Charley “The Gent Malloy” Bartlett’s impending visit to Lord’s today (as I write on 21 April 2017) I was reminded of the following lyric.
It is one of the very last I wrote using Amipro and therefore part of the batch I am trying to rescue onto Ogblog before my old computer passes away…
…and the subject matter, ironically, is IT. I wrote this (and several others for The Children’s Society Windows Rollout team) ahead of a team end of project session at Wadderton.
Charles likes a bit of metal – both the IT and musical variety, so the choice of tune was, I think, a good one. I wonder what Charles will think of this well-geeky lyric nearly 20 years on?
PLANNING A ROLLOUT OF WINDOWS (Epic To the Tune of “Stairway To Heaven”) VERSE 1
There’s a fellow whose mode-, -em is not Dacom Gold, And the name of that bloke is Charles Bartlett; When he breaks wind you’ll know, As the windows are closed, If that noise was a burp or a fartlett. Mmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmm, And he’s planning a rollout of Windows.
VERSE 2
There’s a sign on the door, Cos he wants to be sure, And the sign reads “IT room, no entry”; I suspect that the room’s, Got NS Optimum’s, Entire stock ’til the end of the century. Ooooooooooh, it makes me wonder. Ooooooooooh, it makes me wonder.
VERSE 3
There’s a feeling I get, When I call the helpdesk, That they and Z/Yen are drinking Bacardi; I get fine, rum advice, ‘Tho’ they ask in a trice, Tony Duggan or Michael Bernardi. Ooooooooooh, it makes me wonder. Ooooooooooh, and it makes me wonder.
VERSE 4
And it’s whispered that soon, Yes by the end of June, TCS will have rolled out completely; ITSOs and Marion, Will still carry on, FMI Windows training discretely.
VERSE 5
If there’s a gremlin in your Windows, Don’t be alarmed now, It’s just a browser from Bill Gates; Yes there are two paths you can go by, But in the long run, He’ll make you buy Windows 98. Ooooooooh, that’s how he’s made his fortune.
VERSE 6
Your modem’s humming but you don’t know, Because it’s so slow, If you’ve got e-mail or been forsook; Perhaps the server’s full of e-trash, Or had a head crash, Or just can’t load Microsoft Outlook. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh
(AIR GUITAR BREAK)
VERSE 7
Charles and Mike Smith have bought the road, I’m talking Tottenham Court Road; Up walks the lady we all know (“watcha Mangal”), Whose eyes light up to say “hello, What have you guys bought from the stores? We have to budget very hard, None of that corporate charge card, This recent rollout really shows, (yeh) That Windows costs a lot of dough.”
OUTRO – MIKE AND CHARLES’ REPLY
“We were buying some spares and cheap modems”.
Here is Led Zeppelin singing Stairway To Heaven with the lyrics shown on screen. I can do a passable Stairway on the baritone ukulele, btw, but I’m not expecting Chas to ask for a performance. Mike Smith, on the other hand, might insist upon it…
By gosh was I pleased when I learnt that my local, The Gate Theatre in Notting Hill, was to put on this play. Some years earlier, I had bought a book of European plays in translation and had read this play, along with some narrative about it, with a mixture of fascination and wonderment. Part of my wonderment was thinking about how on earth the play might be performed, but I suspected at the time that I would never see the piece in production.
Unlike my “how on earth might this play be performed?” musings, it worked remarkably well in this imaginative production in the Gate’s small-scale, theatre-above-a-pub environment. The Gate has reliably been extremely good at doing this sort of thing over the years.
Superb…
…was my single word verdict, which summed it up for both me and Janie.
Our friend, Michael Billington, gave a similar verdict in The Guardian, lauding performers Sean Gallagher and Jenny Quayle, plus translator Thomas Fisher in particular:
Susannah Clapp gave it a glowing and quite lengthy review in the Observer, especially praising the director, Gordon Anderson and the designer, Jane Singleton:
Let’s just say that we wouldn’t now (writing 25 years later) attempt quite such a full itinerary for a Friday through Monday long weekend jaunt. Three plays at Stratford, a motorised hike to the Welsh Borders for lunch at The Walnut Tree before going on to Hay-On-Wye for some overnight- second-hand-book-buying on my part before stopping off for a long lunch at Raymond Blanc’s place (Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons) in Oxfordshire and then home.
I think we stayed in the Shakespeare for this trip. Janie booked it but only wrote down “Twelfth Night Room £115 per night” which I suspect in those days was a suite or certainly a superior room.
The RSC does far less modern material at Stratford these days (he says 25 years later), which is one of the main reasons why we go there far less frequently now.
On the Sunday morning, we drove on to Abergavenny. One of Janie’s clients had recommended The Walnut Tree Inn, with very good reason – we had a magnificent Sunday lunch there. It seems that the place didn’t have a Michelin Star yet when we visited, but it was certainly star-standard food and service. It has had a chequered history in-between times, improving and then losing its reputation, but in more recent years it seems to be doing extremely well. We’re glad.
Then on to Hay-On-Wye, where we stayed at my favourite stop-over place there – The Old Black Lion. I recall buying rather a lot of second-hand books at relatively high speed – some late afternoon/early evening on the Sunday, and then more first thing in the morning Monday. I think this was the trip upon which I found a pristine copy of The Boundary Book in a most unlikely place, something I had been seeking for several years. These days such things are not so hard to find while simply sitting on your backside, although my copy with the original bat-shaped cardboard book mark on a piece of ribbon is possibly still a rare find.
We had allowed more than two hours to get from the Welsh Borders to Le Manoir Aux Quat’Saisons, but should have allowed far longer for a cross-country narrow road hike on a Monday – lots of slow-moving rural vehicles with no chance of overtaking for miles. Janie phoned in to say that we would be at leats half-an-hour late for our 13:30 booking and was told that technically they take last roders at 14:00 but they would be flexible on that as long as we arrived soon after two…which we did.
It was a beautiful day and Raymond Blanc himself came out to greet us soon after we arrived, telling us with great charm that he had heard that we had experienced a difficult journey but that we should be sure to relax and enjoy our lunch at leisure. Fabulous food. Possibly the first time I had spent quite so much money on a single meal (£260, when that amount was real money), despite the fact that we only had a glass of wine each. An absolutely wonderful and unforgettable experience.
25 years ago, I got very excited when I scored a rare (or relatively rare) book in a second hand bookshop. Latterly, if I want such a book I sit on my backside for a few minutes, possibly only a few moments, find the book on-line, part company with my money and wait for the nice delivery person to bring the book to my door.
Back then, I made occasional trips to Hay-On-Wye and kept lists of books that I particularly wanted.
One such book was the original Boundary Book – a collection of essays about cricket from 1961. Not the oft-found “Second Innings” Boundary Book – also produced as a Lord’s Taverners fundraising machine – I acquired a copy of that easily enough and would always see multiple copies of that one in the Hay-On-Wye shops. It was the “hard to find” original I wanted.
I particularly remember the unlikely circumstance in which I found the book. Not in any of the shops that had decent sports/cricket sections (where I was repeatedly told that the original Boundary Book was hard to find), but in a small, generalist bookshop that had caught my eye for some other reason. I asked, almost as an afterthought, if they had any cricket books. “Possibly”, I was told, “there’s just a shelf or two of sports books over there”.
There, on one of those sparse shelves, was my long-sought-after book. Not only a copy, but a copy in excellent condition, with the dust jacket in well preserved order and even the original cricket bat bookmark on a piece of ribbon. £3. I thought about it for a fraction of a second and eagerly bought the book. “Ah, you found a cricket book”, said the shopkeeper. “Believe it or not, I found the very one I was looking for”, said I. He smiled, probably thinking I was just being polite…or trying to be funny.
I didn’t really know what I would find in the original Boundary Book – other than a collection of essays written just before I was born. But for some years I had longed to satisfy that archetypal book-lover’s quest, to track down a particular desired book. In any case, I had the sense that some of the best essays that Lesley Frewin gathered for his charity fundraising cricket books project over the years will have been in the first of those books…and I was right about that. There are many truly excellent essays in that original Boundary Book.
One essay in particular was to have a profound effect on me and my future following of cricket – an essay by Stephen Potter (the One-Upmanship fellow), called Lord’smanship.
It was that essay, in which Potter confesses to being a member of Middlesex CCC (MCCC) but not a member of Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC), that caused me to plan to join Middlesex as a life member on my fortieth birthday, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Now I am a life member of both MCCC and the MCC. But I still like Bach and I still have a beard and I suspect that the sound I would emit saying “MCCC” would still be indistinguishable from “MCC”, especially if I were to say it after two or three G&Ts.
Janie and I were partial to a bit of Richard Nelson at that time – the RSC put on several of his works in the late 1990s.
We saw this one as part of an extraordinary whistle-stop long weekend which took in three plays at Stratford (this the third of them), a motorised hike to the Welsh Borders for lunch at The Walnut Tree before going on to Hay-On-Wye for some overnight- second-hand-book-buying on my part before stopping off for a long lunch at Raymond Blanc’s place (Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons) in Oxfordshire and then home. Friday to Monday. The other bits have been written up separately from this piece – click here or below.
I think we stayed in the Shakespeare for this trip. Janie booked it but only wrote down “Twelfth Night Room £115 per night” which I suspect in those days was a suite or certainly a superior room. I did the rest of the trip, including The Old Black Lion in Hay.
I guess the RSC was on a nostalgia-trip for its older audience at that time, with Talk Of the City at The Swan about the cloud of Nazism and this one at The Other Place set just after the Second World War.
Excellent cast, as you’d expect from the RSC. Catheryn Bradshaw, Sara Markland, Robin Weaver and Simon Scadifield to name but a few. Here is a link to the Theatricalia entry.
Charles Spencer didn’t like the play, but it did pick up an Olivier award so what does he know?
de Jongh Standard Unexpected 16 Apr 1998, Thu Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
Taylor Independent Unexpected 17 Apr 1998, Fri The Independent (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
Billington Guardian Unexpected 16 Apr 1998, Thu The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
