Charles “Charley the Gent Malloy” Bartlett and I had sloped off to the nets a couple of times ahead of this fixture, if I remember correctly. The tuition paid dividends for both of us. We both achieved scores of 20 not out (retired).
But…
…on this one occasion on Regent’s Park, Z/Yen was to prevail.
David Highton, with his reliable medium paced dobble-bowling, took a hat-trick for Z/Yen, ripping the heart out of the Children’s Society batting line up.
Charles kept his pads on, as the “retired not out” batsman was permitted to resume if the innings would otherwise be complete.
On resumption, Chas somehow managed to lob the simplest of catches to me at midwicket.
“Tell anyone about that catch and Tony The Tarantula will pay you a visit. He knows where you live, know what I mean?”
I wrote to Chas early the next day, a long and rather dull e-mail about work stuff, in which I concluded:
Look forward to seeing you Wednesday – oh and I have not yet told [anyone] about the dolly catch.
Chas replied that morning with one of the worst, laugh-out-loud excuses for a dismissal I have ever read:
As I recall I was being verbally abused by some of your close-in fielders – and to my dismay some of my own team on the sidelines!
In an attempt to satisfy everyone (low scoring but wickets tumbling around me!) and finding it almost impossible to get a bat near any ball. Wides, no balls and balls trickling along the ground. I attempted a pull shot to leg, only to be temporarily blinded by a shinning white vision, which turned out to be Ian’s brand new cricket whites!!
That is pretty much as I remember it!!
One vital matter that emerges from this piece of cricket archaeology is proof positive – we might call it silicon dating – that I bought my cricket troos that spring, 2001, confirming that they are significantly older than England cricketer Rehan Ahmed, which was a matter of some conjecture and debate in King Cricket circles when that lad had his debut. Indeed they are older than I suspected when I estimated 2002 or 2003 as the purchase date.
Janie was reading A Fortune Teller Told Me while we were in Cambodia (one of the first books I ever bought on Amazon as it happens), so when we returned to Phnom Penh on 10 February and encountered a fortune teller, Janie insisted that we both have a go.
The fortune teller lady seemed quite confused about us as a couple who didn’t live together. We learnt that…
…Daisy has three blokes and is going to have two kids and that I have two birds!?
Two kids…two birds…
Once she got into her stride, though, the fortune teller was most insistent that I was about to come in to a lot of money. Like, straight away. That day, or the next day, she insisted.
All of a sudden I became more popular
This seemed odd to me at the time, as her services were lightening my wallet, not filling it as far as I could tell. And I was in no position to make money while I was on holiday.
But it turned out, when I returned to London, that in my absence a tricky commercial position of ours had unwound; a substantial sum of money had, as a result, been deposited in our corporate account, around the time of the fortune telling.
Not THAT Efes, you twerp. And what on earth were you doing on THAT stage?
Having taken a commercial interest in Milet Publishing that year, it seemed polite and fun to make the Milet team feel at home in a Restaurant named after a nearby Aegean coastal town. Ephesus (or Efes) is about 35 miles north of Miletus.
I had fond memories of that Great Titchfield Street Restaurant from my Newman Harris days, as it was one of the “restaurants of choice” to soak up the beer from an after work drinking session at The Phoenix or The Cock Tavern or both.
Efes was willing and able to supply us with a back room for our Christmas dinner. Not the most salubrious grub we have ever had, but the Turkish food at Efes was consistently good and the atmosphere was great that year.
Back in the year 2000, Michael and I were in especially festive mood, as Tanya Aslan had pulled off a coup with Clean Business Cuisine marketing; landing us a window slot in Waterstones Piccadilly which was deemed at that time to be hitting the book marketing jackpot
Let’s just say, that particular jackpot did not show in the sales figures – just the bragging rights.
Meanwhile Michael also had delusions of adequacy in the matter of seasonal song writing at that time. The year 2000 concluded a hat-trick of his lyrics for the seasonal song, after which Michael rarely, if ever, returned to rune-writing.
Oh Little Court Of St Helen’s
Oh little court of St Helen’s How swish we see thee lie! Beneath thy deep and wealthy sleep Z/Yen’s offices abide And in these dark deep shadows The everlasting blight Consultancy adds to your years When packed as tight as mice
How crowdedl-y, how crowded-ly Z/Yen dishes out advice Beside the frozen servers And other bust device Paper’s overflowing But Linda’s looking nice And if we get our Seventh Heav’n We’ll soon trash Number Five
Michael Mainelli – Poet
The concluding apposite but non-rhyming reference in the song referred to our impending move within 5-7 St Helen’s Place, from a small office in the basement of No 7 to a larger one on the first floor of No 5. As usual with Michael’s lyrics, you had to be there…or at least know which door to go to.
I have documentary evidence to prove that I went to the Oval on the first day of the fifth test. Not much was arranged by e-mail in those days, but I wrote an e-mail to TMS. I was reminded of same, today (13 January 2017) as a result of some discussions about left and right-handedness on King Cricket – click here – which triggered a memory that I possess a great essay on the subject in The Boundary Book: Second Innings.
I found the book. Marking that very essay in my copy of The Boundary Book: Second Innings was a printout of the following e-mail, to TMS:
In the hope & expectation that Nagamootoo will be selected for the Oval, try this limerick for size.
There is a young man Nagamootoo,
Who the girls find it hard to stay true to;
He’s a little too shy,
Like the song by that guy,
Named Limahl from the group Kajagoogoo.
Do look out for us today, near the front of the Peter May North Stand. A monkey, a green rabbit, four chaps (including two American rookies trying test cricket for the first time) and a yellow duck named Henry. Henry bears more than a passing resemblance to Henry Blofeld.
Ian
Earlier that same summer at the first test with the Heavy Rollers, plus Hippity the Green Bunny, Henry the Duck but no monkey. The monkey joined our household later.
We met Bananarama Monkey-Face in Pickering in early July 2000. This photo from 2014, after he’d established his own small-time writing career.
FALSE MEMORY PARAGRAPH
I have a feeling that the first day of the fifth test must be the occasion that Jeremy, Michael and I went together, with the additional American Rookie being a client or prospective client of Michael’s who turned out to have the attention span of a flea. He watched for about 5 or 10 minutes, got bored, wandered off and made us feel thoroughly irritated, as we knew loads of people who would have loved that hot ticket. As Michael said afterwards, “I’m not making that mistake again”.
CORRECTED MEMORY PARAGRAPH
Following an e-mail trawl for other summer 2000 matters, I realise that the above memory is false, or rather a memory from a later year/test match day. On 31 August 2000 the attendees were:
me
Michael “Timothy Tiberelli” Mainelli
Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett
Bob “Big Mac” Reitemeier (this pseudonym previously unused, but in the grand tradition of On The Waterfront characters as pseudonyms).
Both Michael and Bob were suitably interested in the cricket and indeed both have attended first class cricket and/or played several times since their initiation that day. Perhaps Charles also has some memories of that day. Big Mac e-mailed to say:
I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed the day. I must admit that I did follow the events on Friday, Saturday and Sunday with some interest following my induction on Thursday. Great stuff. The hook has been planted…
What about Monday?
But far more importantly, Aggers clearly liked my limerick a lot, because I heard him read it out at one point and learned that he broadcast it more than once during the day on that first day of the match.
I got very excited on the Friday, as Clean Business Cuisine (still available at all good bookshops, both on-line and real world) had just come out and we were promoting it heavily, so I got our book PR lass, Tanya, to bike a copy of the book to the TMS team at the Oval with a note of thanks re the limerick. I am now sure that such effort and expense is utterly futile. We live and learn.
That evening (the Friday) Janie and I saw Anthea and Mitchell. My diary says so. On the Saturday evening we saw Maz – my diary says so. I think it was her goodbye party ahead of going off to Malawi. A trawl of Janie’s diaries (and other people’s memories) at some stage in the future might well retrieve more stuff about those two evenings.
Monday 4 September 2000
Somehow, England, a shocking test match side at the time, had got itself ahead in a series against the (once) mighty West Indies (heck, they still had Walsh and Ambrose in those days, ageing though they might have been).
Going into the final test, England were 2-1 up. And now England were poised, in a great position to win the historic match and series on Day 5.
Several of us recovered our memories for that piece and commented. Here’s my comment about 4 September 2000:
I remember taking an early call from Big “Papa Zambezi” Jeff on the final day of the series, wondering whether I wanted to join him on a walk-up expedition south of the river (Thames, not Zambezi) to the Oval. He reckoned we’d still get good seats walking up Day 5 and it turned out he was right. But I had unmovable client commitments that day (long since forgotten by me and probably the clients), so he walked up and got splendid seats for an historic day without me. I made amends by buying Day 5 seats for the Oval in 2005 as a precautionary measure; Big “Papa Zambezi” Jeff was one of the beneficiaries of that forethought.
Well I have now looked up my diary and can see exactly what I did that day. I was sort-of on a deadline with an important report. Plus lots of calls. But I did have some slack that week.
Could I have burned some midnight oil and caught up? Of course I could.
Should I have gone with Jeff that day? Of course I should.
“Surprise” Party For Elisabeth Mainelli, Lady Daphne, 2 December 1999
Janie has written directions to St Katherine’s Dock in excruciating detail in her diary for that event. I merely wrote “surprise! boat”.
I have a funny feeling that this surprise party was not the best kept secret in the City that year. I sensed that Elisabeth feigned surprise rather than was seriously surprised.
It would have taken quite a ruse to lure her to the boat in December on the evening of her birthday without some suspicion arising.
Still, I recall that it was a good party.
Caroline’s Engagement Party, The Ruts, 4 December 1999
We moved our Hedda Gabler theatre tickets from the Saturday to the Friday in order to attend this party.
I hope Caroline and Alan appreciate being given priority over Francesca Annis for our Saturday night entertainment.
*Spoiler Alert* The Caroline and Alan story had a happier ending than Hedda Gabler.
Joking apart, it was a great party as I remember it. Caroline’s mum went to town producing amazing grub for the party and there was a very happy buzz about the evening.
Z/Yen Seasonal Event – Park Inn, Wellington Terrace W2, Preceded By Drinks At Ian’s Newly Refurbished Flat, 17 December 1999
Sofa, so good – the living room in my flat
This was one of the more memorable Z/Yen seasonal events…but mostly for the wrong reasons.
Firstly, there was a mad rush to get my flat ready to accommodate the drinks party at mine ahead of the dinner at The Park Inn. Gavin’s snail-like progress was doing Janie’s and my head in – it would have been TOO embarrassing to have had to relocate the drinks because the flat wasn’t ready.
At one point- I think it was the preceding Friday as Janie and I both took that day off for this purpose – Janie even ended up on her hands and knees helping Gavin to varnish the floorboards – subjected to the indignity not only of doing the work for which we were paying but being bossed around by Gavin in the style that had put off his many attempts at engaging assistants:
GAVIN: NO! Don’t do it like that! Do it like this!
JANIE: Does it really make a difference, Gavin? I can’t see the difference and we need to get this finished.
GAVIN: NO! NOT LIKE THAT!
To add to the problematic nature of this event, several member of staff went down with an especially nasty lurgy in the days running up to the event. I think in the end only about seven or eight people attended, one of whom was Linda Cook who turned up despite feeling under the weather and ended up crashing out on my (brand new) bed and then going home rather than staying for dinner.
Fortunately, we knew May at The Park Inn so well that the constantly reducing of numbers and the eventual relatively small table was all handled with her usual professional and service-oriented demeanour, so all who ate, ate well.
No quizzes and no Secret Santa yet. Linda got into her stride from the early 2000s onwards in those regards.
Michael wrote the song that year…
Toil and Play
God rest ye Z/Yen par-tic-i-pants, There’s no point in dismay Remember Christmas parties All end in disarray Don’t save yourself from whiskey’s pow’r You might as well a’stray
O tidings of bromo and fizz Bromo and fizz O tidings of bromo and fizz
From year to year we reappear And wonder all the same How business so chaotic With such an awful name Can still inspire Nippon songs And ever-woeful games
O tidings of toil and play Toil and play O tidings of toil and play
But when to Ze-e-Yen they came Where their dear project lay And found us all hung-over But still prepared to pay We found our invoice quick and fast And saved ’em from May-Day
O tidings of toil and pay Toil and pay O tidings of toil and pay
Only Michael could choose the words “bromo and fizz” to replace comfort and joy. It seems that Bromo-Seltzer has a long and (in)glorious history in song lyrics. Who knew? (Well, Michael did, obviously). Perhaps you had to be there…or to have sent a sick note at the time…to get the gist of that song.
I was reminded of this incident in June/July 2019 while Lord’s is too busy with the cricket world cup to allow us to play real tennis there, so several of us are playing in exile at Queen’s.
The recovered memory arises because these 2019 visits, like the 1999 one, are occuring just after the ATP tournament has finished at Queen’s, making the place a bit of a maze/building site. This is not a complaint, btw – I think it is very generous of Queen’s to let us real tennis addicts play there at such a disrupted time.
My 1999 visit at the same time of year was an invitation for an after-work game of tennis by my friend/client Abe Koukou, who was a member of The Queen’s Club and who knew that Janie and I play modern (lawn) tennis regularly.
I told Abe, truthfully, that I had never played at Queen’s before and that I was delighted to be invited.
Which was true.
What I omitted to tell Abe, because it seemed irrelevant at the time, was that I did know The Queen’s Club rather well, having done some advisory work for the Club back in the early 1990s. At that time, I was still laid up with my multiply-prolapsed spine and had been unable to play. Indeed had that not been the case, I might have got addicted to real tennis back then. I do remember Howard Angus showing it to me when there was a major tournament on, being fascinated by it and feeling regretful that I was not fit enough to give real tennis a try back then.
Some 27 years after my first look at real tennis at Queen’s…
…but I digress.
Point is, although Abe was hosting my first go at playing tennis at Queen’s in June 1999, I knew the place pretty well.
On our arrival, Abe was discombobulated by the cordons and the fact that his usual route to the changing rooms was blocked off. But I knew multiple ways around the complex.
That’s OK, we can get there this way instead
..said I, going into automatic and taking the route past the squash and real tennis courts.
I thought you’d never played here before?
…said Abe, quizzically.
I explained.
After our tennis match, my first experience of playing on carpet as a surface as well as my first experience of playing at Queen’s, we retired to the bar.
There, by the bar, was Jonathan Edwardes, then the Club Secretary (a role now called the Chief Executive Officer).
Hello Ian, how lovely to see you here. So sorry I wasn’t able to accept Michael’s invitation onto that sailing barge of his. I’d have so enjoyed that…
At this juncture, Abe’s eyes widened a little, so I introduced Abe to Jonathan.
It then dawned on me that I had inadvertently, but comprehensively, deployed a version of gamesmanship, known as guestmanship.
The Theory and Practice of Gamesmanship, or the Art of Winning Games without Actually Cheating by Stephen Potter
I have long been a fan of Stephen Potter’s books and especially like the Gamesmanship one.
In the Guestmanship section, Potter explains that the host at a sports club is at an advantage…
He is playing on his home ground. He knows the ropes…there are plenty of opportunities for making his guest feel out of it…
…so the seasoned gamesman finds ways to reverse the advantage, by mugging up on the host’s club. The prepared gamesman ensures that the host:
would wonder whether he was a host in any valid sense…indeed he would begin to wonder whether he really was a member of his own club.
Potter then gives some examples of what the gamesman might do to deploy guestmanship masterfully…
…but I must say that none of Potter’s examples seem to me quite as masterful as my guestmanship at Queen’s that day in 1999. Indeed, I believe that my application of the art of guestmanship one-upped Stephen Potter’s original example. Having one-upped the one-upmanship chap, even inadvertently, is quite a thing.
So did my guestmanship result in Abe succumbing to my dark arts of tennis? Did it heck. Abe thrashed me in the first set (which reminds me, I need to go out to get some bagels). I did a little better in the second set.
And did the combination of my guestmanship and my comparatively limited skills at tennis make this the first and very last time I ever played at Queen’s with Abe? Of course it didn’t. Abe is such a genial, friendly and good-humoured fellow, he simply found the whole incident very funny. My subsequent visits as Abe’s guest were mostly with two other players making up a doubles that would be well matched. In real life, give me good sports (like Abe) over gamesmen any day.
But the book Gamesmanship, though over 70 years old now, is still a hoot; I do commend it.
Image “Diving For A Tie” produced in collaboration with Dall-E
The headline is a little deceptive, because Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett and I were not in Barcelona the City, but we were, along with a great many Z/Yen people and one or two other Children’s Society people, in Barcelona, the tapas and wine bar in The City.
Twenty years later, at the time of writing, Barcelona is still there – click the image for a link.
I had spent the whole day in the City. My diary says we had a PAYE inspection that day. I think it might have been that magnificent day that the inspector challenged us for claiming that we had an expenses procedure dispensation (which of course we did have) as he could find no record of us ever having been issued with such a dispensation. Linda Cook went to the archive files and dug out our dispensation letter which happened to have been issued by “Phil”, the very tax inspector who was before us that day. He almost apologised, claiming that files had been lost in an office move. He didn’t stay long after that.
But of course you don’t win tax inspections; the best you can hope for is an honourable draw or a tie.
Which brings me to the World Cup Semi Final.
But before that I need to explain why Charley The Gent was at our offices that day. You see, Teresa Bestard, who was one of Z/Yen’s first employees and who had done a great deal of work for The Children’s Society under Charley’s auspices, was leaving Z/Yen that day.
Teresa was (is) a Catalan with roots in Barcelona and Majorca. She chose the Barcelona tapas and wine bar as a suitable venue for her leaving do.
I arranged to meet Charley and Tony to go through some business stuff at Z/Yen around 16:00, so they could conveniently join the leaving do afterwards.
On arrival, Chas did ask me if I was aware of the Australia v South Africa semi-final score. I wasn’t. He told me. I said it sounded close, but edging towards South Africa. Chas said he fancied Australia for the match. He wanted to bet. I said I don’t like to bet. He suggested a one pound stake. I accepted, with the proviso that if the match was a tie, both pounds would go to The Children’s Society.
Chas doing his Children’s Society cricket captain bit, back in 1998
We were not expecting to follow the latter stages of the World Cup Semi-Final, but Barcelona had other ideas. They were pumping the match out on big screens throughout the bar.
Great…
…said the cricket tragics, e.g. me and Charley. Teresa did not seem well pleased. She was already vocally irritated with us for a supposed slight; we had invited Mary O’Callaghan along to the event. Teresa saw this as Z/Yen inviting Teresa’s replacement to Teresa’s own leaving do. Actually we had hired Mary before we even knew that Teresa was leaving and had asked Mary along to several events to meet the team before she joined; this was the one she could make.
Some neutrals, such as Jacqueline Goldberg, Michael Mainelli and Linda Cook, used the language of indifference towards the cricket, but in truth couldn’t help but become more and more interested in the final overs of the match, as it became clear that the result was on a knife edge and the match was a real thriller.
I hope The Children’s Society made good use of the £2 it scored from that bet. The charity benefited from our subsequent charity matches to a much greater extent than this wager.
Below is a video of the highlights/denouement of that match:
Teresa’s leaving do went on for hours after the cricket finished and everyone relaxed into the wine and tapas. It was a very good leaving do for a very special member of the team.
But I’m afraid the cricket tragics amongst us will remember the evening primarily for that astonishing tied World Cup Semi Final, as we lived every moment on those big screens in Barcelona.
My memories from these particular evenings are fairly impressionistic.
We had good turnout from the Z/Yen crowd, despite the fact that none of us were really into ten-pin bowling. The Children’s Society (TCS) turnout was not as good, although Charles Bartlett and Tony Duggan were into ten-pin bowling.
I think one of these evenings must have been the first time I met Dot Bartlett. Probably the second one when Janie also came along.
Despite Charles’s constant jokes about Romford being a gangsta’s paradise, the Romford bowling alleys we attended seemed remarkably peaceful and friendly. Perhaps Charles made it known to the Romford underworld that he was being visited by people he considered to be family and that, therefore, “this ain’t your night”. Ever “Charley the Gent Malloy”, is Chas.
I say alleys rather than alley, as I think we went to a different place each time. Perhaps the place known 25 years later as Namco Funscape the first time, then a place now known as Rollerball the second time.
I remember Elisabeth Mainelli doing exceptionally well, especially on that first occasion, having said that she had never so much as seen a ten-pin bowling alley before.
Charles insisted on having Teresa Bestard (who worked for Z/Yen but was doing a lot of work with TCS at that time) on his team. I don’t think this was a tactical move in the matter of improving the standard of his team, but it was an attempt to even up the sides, at least numbers-wise.
Naturally TCS prevailed the first time regardless of the intricacies of team selection and numbers.
In kicking off the arrangements for the second event, I wrote:
I promised to come up with some Monday dates for bowling. Janie is currently keeping Monday 8 February and Monday 15 February evenings free. If you recall, we plugged for Monday evening to enable Dean Burnell to attend.
The Z/Yen team been training hard for many weeks now. I’m not sure whether the management skills training will help the bowling – we’ll find out.
Chas replied:
Both dates are good for me although the second date (15 Feb) probably best as I am on leave to whole week prior to the 8th Feb and it would be helpful that I am around.
How many do you anticipate from Z/Yen for the ritual slaughter?
regards
Charles.
It might or might not have been ritual slaughter. I seem to recall Z/Yen doing a bit better second time around. But my main memory of the event was Janie trying to put Chas off while he was bowling, by wandering down the side of the lane, within his peripheral view, staring like an avid fan at Chas preparing his shot.
Chas got really discombobulated by this trick, claiming a complete inability to concentrate, keep a straight face and/or complete his bowl.
I think Chas might be over it by now, 25 years later. I have a feeling it didn’t stop TCS from winning again.
Chas was over it by 12 September 2005, when we saw England regain The Ashes at The Oval
I remember this Z/Yen Christmas event being an especially good meal. We were depleted in numbers that year for some reason – I think one or two illnesses – so Kim & Micky joined us as guests rather than allow paid-for dinners go to waste.
I wrote up the event for the Now & Z/Yen newsletter, which survives on-line despite several deportations in the intervening 25 years – click here.
Just in case a future deportation upsets the above link, here is a scrape of that page. And just in case you don’t like clicking, here is the raw text I wrote in 1998 that became the relevant paragraph on that page:
Hark! The Herald Angels Sing [xmassy picture] The annual Z/Yen Christmas stuffing took place at Caldesi, our favourite Tuscan restaurant. Z/Yen staff bravely fought their way through six courses, including Jane Beazley’s birthday cake, as well as through one badly mangled Christmas carol, to the tune of “D-Mark! Z/Yen Angels Sing”. Contrary to our seasonal hopes, the heavens did not flood the party with D-Marks (current currency of choice in the run-up to the Euro, as recommended by one self-interested wife), nor were angels or singing much in evidence. A great time was had by all and huge relief sighed by the restaurant staff when they realised that Z/Yen people were not going to conduct quantum physics experiments on their fibre optic Christmas tree.
The Now & Z/Yen write up also refers to Michael’s attempt at a seasonal lyric – this 1998 one was his first for Z/Yen. Let’s just hypothesise that Michael is better at quantum physics than he is at song lyrics. Evidence below:
D-MARKS! Z/YEN ANGELS SING (Sung to the tune of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” or “Gloria in Excelsis Deo” in the Mariah Carey style)
“D-Marks!”, Z/Yen angels sing
Glory to the Euro thing
Peace in Europe, markets wild
Blair and Schroder reconciled
Joyful all recessions rise Join the Bank of England’s sighs With Zeee/Yen consultants claim Markets are in may-eh-hem
“D-Marks!”, Z/Yen angels sing Glory to the Euro thing
Glo….oh….oh…oh…oh….ohria
In consultants’ fee-eees Glo….oh….oh…oh…oh….ohria
In consultants’ fee-eee-eees
Z/Yen by highest fees adored
Z/Yen for those who can afford
Late in time, does Ian come
Often late, the favoured one
Z/Yen, so fresh the clients see
Hail, the astronomical fees
Pleased as gods with men to dwell
Z/Yen as blasphemous as hell
“D-Marks!”, Z/Yen angels sing Glory to the Euro thing
…again to play with Barnardo’s, but this time also with The Children’s Society.
I know that Ian Theodoreson and Bob Harvey gave us and their Barnardo’s charges every encouragement to make these evenings happen, but I have a feeling that neither of them made it to either evening.
Anyway, it was a very jolly evening and a great chance for people to get to know each other as well as mess around a bit playing cricket.
Not only did Barnardo’s still supply a bunch of dudes who knew what they were doing – see photo above…
…The Children’s Society was also blessed with some half-decent cricketers, including Chief Executive and glove man Ian Sparks:
Ian Sparks on gloves, Harish Gohil at bat; presumably this was warming up pre contestCharles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett – starting as he meant to go on
I can’t remember in detail the playing conditions we came up with for this particular evening, but sort-of having three teams in an after work round robin in August was never going to work brilliantly as matches. I have a feeling we played sort-of eight a side with additional supply fielders from the sides that weren’t batting.
No slide rule – but the Barnardo’s score book and my own trusty light meterReservoir Dogs but without the ultraviolence? Kevin Parker (striding, front left), Rupert Stubbs (hatted, central), Michael Mainelli (arms folded in disgust, right).Spot the ball (obviously going uppishly to backward square leg, that’s me batting)Mainelli looks relieved to have been dismissed.
I still think the whole idea had started with Kevin Parker and some of the Barnardo’s team he was working with – I wonder if I can extract a confession from him.
