A Day At Lord’s With Big “Papa Zambezi” Jeff, 7 September 2006

The photo is from a year earlier in September 2005; the day England won the Ashes at the Oval, with thanks to Charley “The Gent” Malloy (also pictured, as are Uncail Marcas, Me and Daisy) – Jeff is the big fella in red.

I am reminded of this day from September 2006 almost exactly 13 years later (on 5 September 2019), as King Cricket described the wind as being the most important element of a day’s Ashes cricket at Old Trafford.

I took Jeff to a day of county cricket at Lord’s, between Middlesex and Nottinghamshire. I wrote the day up comprehensively for MTWD back then – click here.

The most noteworthy thing that happened that day (other than Nottinghamshire batting Middlesex out of the game), was a stray plastic bag that blew from the Upper Compton onto the pitch to temporarily hold up proceedings.

Unfortunately, that rogue plastic bag was ours. I report the matter in considerable detail about half way through the afternoon session section – here’s another chance to click here.

Other coincidences with this week in 2019 include:

Here is the scorecard from September 2006.

Frost/Nixon by Peter Morgan, Donmar Warehouse, 19 August 2006

Janie and I were really taken with this play/production. On my log I gave it a one word review:

superb.

Peter Morgan writes these historical/biographical plays really well and Michael Sheen seems well fitted to the lead roles in them, be the role Tony Blair or David Frost.

Actually the whole cast was excellent, with especially memorable performances by Frank Langella, Kelly Shale, Lydia Leonard and Corey Johnson.

Michael Grandage was doing great work at the Donmar at that time.

There is a superb Donmar educational resource available for this production, now in the public domain but not well publicised, which I have scraped to here and/or the image link below:

Taken from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Frostnixonposter.png with the same attribution and for the same fair use reasons as stated on Wikipedia.

We saw the original Donmar run quite early in its life – perhaps even still in preview or just after the press night. The play/production was extremely well received, deservedly so. A link to reviews can be found here.

The piece transferred big time and also was made into a film. Janie and I were delighted to have seen the original production before the big fuss broke out.

Dad’s Last Birthday, A Day At Lord’s, 11 August 2006

Today (11 August 2019) I wrote a tribute piece about my dad, on the 100th anniversary of his birth – click here or below:

I was reminiscing about his last birthday, 2006. I took mum and dad to Lord’s for a birthday treat. Dad had no interest whatsoever in sport, but he did enjoy a nice meal and my parents had never before seen Lord’s.

It was good fortune that the Middlesex v Hampshire match went to a fourth day – indeed it eventually went the distance on that fourth day. I did have a Plan B, in case you are wondering, but Plan B was not needed.

As I reminisced just now, the piece seemed to be writing itself in my brain, almost as if I had already written it.

Then I realised that I HAD already written it; I wrote a pretty comprehensive account of that lovely day for the Middlesex Till We Die (MTWD) website at the time – click here for that piece.

If by chance anything ever goes awry with that site, click here for a scrape of said piece.

Just in case there’s anyone left on the planet who is bemused by the pseudonyms, I am Ged Ladd so my parents are “Mr & Mrs Ladd Senior”.

On re-reading that piece, I have little else to add about the day.

Here is a link to the scorecard for the match – interesting to see so many people who are now involved with England cricket and cricket at Lord’s (not only but including Middlesex) participating in that match. What a good match it was too.

One final reflection. I remember asking dad afterwards if he had enjoyed the day. His reply:

It was absolutely lovely. Thank you so much.

As much as anything else, it was nice to be with so many people of my own age somewhere other than the old age home.

I’m not sure that the Middlesex/MCC marketing people will be wanting to reuse that quote, but if they want it they can have it.

Tufty Stackpole v The Children’s Society, North Crawley CC, “Match Report”, 30 July 2006

With thanks to Charles Bartlett for the picture.

Brace yourself for a long one, dear reader.

The following report, on the 2006 match between Tufty Stackpole and The Children’s Society, played at the Tufties home ground, North Crawley CC, runs to over 3,500 words.

But this report is Charles Bartlett’s favourite, so it must have something going for it. I suspect that Charles’s pseudonym, Charley “The Gent” Malloy, which I started using the following season, was born in the first paragraph of this report.

Match report by Angus Martin-Blofeld

 Changes at the top

No-one knows precisely why the captaincy of The Children’s Society team changed hands before the match.  Some say that Tufty Stackpole insisted upon the change, as they were desperately keen to pitch their skills against a side that was to be captained incisively.  Others suggest that it was merely a generous gesture on the part of Charles Bartlett to allow Ian Harris a once-in-a-lifetime chance at captaining a big match.  The most plausible rumour, however, is that a major Buckinghamshire betting syndicate preferred the match price based on Ian Harris’s captaincy, so Mr Bartlett was tapped on the shoulder and politely told, “this ain’t your day, Chucky, we’re going for the short-end money on Harris”.  So Harris got a shot at the big match and Chucky got a one-way ticket to Palookaville.

The morning before the night after the morning after the night before

Preparations on The Children’s Society side were going badly.  Heinrich had already pulled out of the squad a few days before the match with an unspecified squash injury.  He was to be replaced by Andrew Britten-Kelly (ABK), brother of Richard Britten-Kelly (RBK).  (Presumably the younger of these two might be known as “Little” Britten-Kelly).  Problem is, Heinrich can bowl whereas ABK (with all due respect) can bowl the odd straight ball but then shows distinctly Harrisesque bowling qualities.

Then, at the 59th minute of the 11th hour (OK, it was 10.00 p.m. the night before the match), Kyle, the team’s off-spinner, sent Harish a text message to say that he’s been had up for being drunk and disorderly and will be spending the next 24 hours in the cells rather than at the match.

[Editor’s note: the precise nature of Kyle’s excuse is lost in the mists of time.  Some say there was mention of injury rather than imprisonment.  We find the young offender angle more in keeping with The Children’s Society aims and values, so choose to embellish the tale in that direction] 

Cometh the hour, cometh the man.  Harish was immediately on the blower to RBK.  Harish remains cool, calm and collected at a time of crisis like this.  “Richard, you’ve got to do something.  Kyle’s pulled out so we’re another bowler short.  Ian will kill us.  Charles will kill us.  The Tufty’s will slaughter us.  Help!  Help!!”

RBK also remained cool, calm and collected.  “Don’t panic!  Don’t panic!” he screamed, while running around the room.

[Editor’s note: running around the room in a panic, while on the telephone, is a much safer activity than it used to be.  In the old days, the telephone cable would get twisted around the panic-monger’s leg, often bringing the poor wretch to the ground and causing an additional injury scare for the team.  These cordless phones are much better for pre-cricket-match panicking purposes].

“You must know somebody who’ll play at short notice”, screamed Harish, “you are South African after all”.

RBK thought deeply for a moment, while removing shattered bits of telephone from the wall, and from his left hand, and from ABK’s right hand.

[Editor’s note:  Yup, that’s the one disadvantage of these cordless phone beasties, of course; untrammelled panicking is halted only on impact with walls and other people]. 

“The only person I know who is crazy enough to drop everything at such short notice is ‘Big Bad Simon’ who is as tall as Charles Nall and Will Jefferson, bowls wicked fast and doesn’t take prisoners”, said RBK.

“We’re desperate, Richard, we’ll take him”, said Harish.

Thus, the side had a full complement of eleven, but with far more pace in the attack than originally envisaged.

A tale of two captains

For several days before the match, Trevor Stapleton and Ian Harris were fine-tuning their personal preparations for the match.

Trevor Stapleton wanted the complete 2006 left-arm orthodox spinner look.  He sallied forth to the “Sikh and You Shall Find” clothing emporium in Luton and was delighted to find a black sports turban, or patka, endorsed by Monty Panesar, in the style of the great man’s very own headgear.  Trevor wanted to sport “a full Monty”, i.e. the beard to go with it, but was politely informed that the emporium does not stock the false strange; it is the Sikh tradition to grow your own.

Meanwhile, Ian Harris, fresh from reading “The Art of Captaincy” by Mike Brearley, also aspired to a strange.  Brearley’s Ayatollah look had coincided with a particularly successful run as captain.  Sadly, Ian left this strange decision a little late, so he turned up on the day of the match looking more Bob Geldof then Ayatollah in the facial hair department.

Coincidentally, Ian Harris also chose to sport some exotic headwear; a brightly-coloured Guatemalan bandanna of the Ramneresh Sarwan variety.

Captains have a lot of sartorial matters to think about ahead of a big match; it’s not all strategy, logistics and press conferences you know.

A massive erection

For many weeks before the big match, the sound of bulldozers and construction workers could be heard across the verdant fields in the normally quiet village of North Crawley.  (Not another extension to Stapleton Manor, surely).

Without so much as a planning application or even a quiet “do you mind?” chat with the neighbours, the village cricket club had decided to erect a new stand in honour of their visitors.  No pleas, no injunctions and no threats with big dogs were going to dissuade the Tufty craftsmen from their task.

The night before the match was a particular low point in the construction schedule.  The new stand absolutely had to be ready for the big event the next day.  Frankly, it wasn’t ready.  In fact, work on the stand was still at a relatively early stage.  In truth, it had not started.

Geoff Young, a handy fellow if ever there was one, took hold of the situation. Making expert use of existing materials readily to hand, some ply wood and some paint, Geoff rode roughshod over health and safety considerations and produced a massive erection emblazoned with the legend “The Ian Harris Stand”.  Geoff figured that the visitors would be so impressed by the quality signage, they might not notice that there wasn’t much of a stand to speak of.  Geoff, as is so often the case, was right.

Arrival of the TCS troops

Under the incisive captaincy of Ian Harris, The Children’s Society team arrived well ahead of the match start time for warm-ups, team strategy sessions, nets, throw-downs, throw-ups and all that sort of thing.  Last to arrive was the “Britten-Kelly Gang”, with their last-minute signing “Big Bad Simon”.

“Hoezit”, said Big Bad Simon.

“Not out”, said Ian.

“Sis”, said Simon, looking none too happy.

“Simon’s just trying to be friendly”, said RBK, “hoezit means hello in Afrikaans”.

Remembering everything he’d learned from The Art of Captaincy, Ian Harris decided he needed to engage directly with this fellow to get the most out of him.  Ian got out a step ladder, climbed to the top and addressed Big Bad Simon face to face.  “I’d like to have a quick look at you in the nets”, said Ian.

Big Bad Simon bit the head off a chicken, kicked a passing poodle and replied, “eish”.

“It’s OK, he’ll do it”, said RBK, helpfully.

So off they all went to the nets.  No-one is sure whether Ian Harris even saw either of the balls that smacked him on the upper thigh, but Janie certainly saw the bruises the next day.

“Lekker” said Big Bad Simon each time he hit the body.  That means “nice”.  Ian Harris made careful notes of these one and two syllable words that might make all the difference in motivating his player.  Ever box free, Charles Bartlett made his excuses and left the nets pretty quickly.  Ian suggested that his bowlers shouldn’t tire themselves out needlessly in the nets.

Enter the Tufties

Meanwhile several Tufties arrived at the stadium.  Handshakes all round.  Not for the Tufties the early arrival and endeavours in the nets.  Not for the Tufties the lengthy look at the wicket and the fierce debate over whether to bowl or bat if the toss was won.  Supremely confident in their own surroundings, the Tufty Stackpole team assembled effortlessly, almost imperceptibly.

Glenn Young was baited by Charles for agreeing to play with a broken finger some days ahead of his doctor’s orders.  Trevor Cooper tried to unnerve the Children’s Society players by talking up the Tufty Stackpole team.  Geoff Young explained that the sound system had been delayed in traffic, so that the match would have to begin without music.  Charles Bartlett looked on the verge of tears at this news.

The toss

Trevor Stapleton and Ian Harris, in their respective headgear, strode out to the middle for the toss and to agree playing conditions.  Incisively, Ian called tails and indeed it was tails.  The Children’s Society would bat first, for the first time in the history of this great fixture.

A cheer went up from the Children’s Society ranks.  There were plans to carry Ian aloft, shoulder high, in honour of his first and massive achievement as captain.  But wait!  The Tufty team dissuaded the Children’s Society masses from making that gesture.  There was a far more important gesture planned.

Trevor Stapleton gathered all around and made a speech of warm welcome to The Children’s Society, unveiling the Ian Harris Stand.  Ian responded with heartfelt thanks.  Charles Bartlett muttered about the absence of a Charles Bartlett stand.  He also muttered that he didn’t want to go out to bat without the stentorian strains of Jerusalem ringing in his ears, but the sound system was still some miles away.

The Tufty team took these vocal matters into their own hands.  Tufty Stackpole formed a guard of honour for the opening batsmen, Charles Bartlett and Ian Harris.  Those two veterans of so many matches past, strode out to bat through that guard of honour, who were belting Jerusalem at the tops of their voices while shaking hands with the incoming batsmen.  What an emotional moment.

The Children’s Society Innings

The Children’s Society innings started at a furious lick.  Tufty Stackpole chose to open the bowling with Geoff “Murali” Young.  Although a so-called off-spinner, Geoff has four additional variations; the doosra, the straightonna, the quicker ball and the one that always somehow gets Ian Harris even if it is a pie.

Ian Harris, as usual, started to nudge and nurdle to get the scoreboard ticking and rotate the strike.  More importantly, during that first over, Charles Bartlett hit a sumptuous straight drive through mid off for four off Geoff’s bowling.  Remembering everything he’d read in The Art of Captaincy, Ian knew that now was the time to motivate the batsman.

“Blimey, Charles, I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Nor did I,” simpered Charles, choking back the emotions.

Another quick single by Harris off Nick Cooper got Charles Bartlett back onto strike.  Then, disaster.  Charles maintains that the ball nipped back ferociously off the seam.  Some wise heads maintain that such a delivery must have been a no-ball, cruelly missed by the umpire.  But those close to the action (other than Charles) submit that Charles played the Piccadilly while the ball went straight down the Bakerloo and that was the end of him.

That heralded the arrival of Mat Watson, The Children’s Society wicket-keeper and thorn in the side of Tufty Stackpole in several conflicts past.

Soon after that, Ian Harris tried to heave a Geoff Young pie into Bedfordshire.  The fizzing off-break cruelly took a bit of bat, a bit of pad and a bit of the wicket on its path.  Wise heads maintain that such a delivery must have been a no-ball, cruelly missed by the umpire.  Suddenly the sound system was up and running.  Always Look On the Bright Side of Life.  Very droll.

Enter Harish, promoted up the order; more incisive captaincy by Ian Harris.  Harish and Mat batted beautifully together, maintaining the momentum set by the brave openers at 5+ an over.  The rate never fell below 4.5 and was 5+ for almost the whole innings.

The sound system did its worst, especially once Ian Harris added an iPod full of sounds to the substantial collection of Matt and Kerry, that outstanding DJ pairing of fixtures passim.  While Mat (the Bat, not to be confused with Matt the DJ) and Harish scored their runs, the DJs played Heatwave, Viva Las Vegas and Dreadlock Holiday.  The crowd, well, Janie and Ian anyway, danced themselves dizzy. The afternoon was suspended in that glorious haze that only a brilliant cricket match can conjure.

Eventually Harish fell to a good one.  Laurel and Hardy.  Very droll.  But that only brought Marko to the crease and the momentum continued to build.  Wickets fell at fairly regular intervals, but everyone from The Children’s Society chipped in and the momentum rarely faltered.

Nick Cooper was the most economical bowler – 2/33 off his full 8.  Trevor Stapleton threatened to keep the runs in check, but a couple of his overs went south – 1/49.  The surprise bowling package was star batsman Nick Church, who was pricey but effective – 3/41.

Mat, as is becoming his habit, anchored the innings, 66 runs off 104 balls.  Marko Bekker scored a quickfire 45 (lekker, Bekker) and Rob Morley the Aussie bowler with a very useful “40”, although even Rob admits that the scorer probably gave him a few of ABK’s runs.  Malcolm from the helpdesk, a genuine all-rounder, chipped in with a quick and useful 20-something.  Even Big Bad Simon, batting at number 11, hit the last ball of the innings back over the bowler’s head for 6.  258/9 off 40 overs.

Mid innings pondering and fuelling

While substantial, indeed a record score for the fixture, everyone remembered that the previous year’s match had been a tie: 254 playing 254.  258 was very much “of that order”; it should be enough, but at the same time it could quite conceivably be surmounted.  What a fixture.  Three innings and only 4 runs between those scores.

Some chowed down.  Some ate with restraint.  Some were so excited at the prospect of the next innings they couldn’t possibly digest food.

[Editor’s note: the author admits that he didn’t actually meet anyone who was so excited they couldn’t eat.  But the sentence does give the appropriate dramatic build to the report, so it has to stay]

Ian Harris consulted with his bowlers and his vice-captain, Charles Bartlett, to plot the defence of their total.  Not one cream cake passed the captain’s lips, he was so busy planning and consulting.  Such commitment.

Trevor Stapleton, meanwhile, made some serious headway into a hearty tea and advised his players to do their best.  What a trooper.

The Tufty Stackpole Innings

They say that captaincy is 90% luck and 10% skill, just don’t try it without the 10% skill.  Well, Ian Harris certainly used up his ration of luck on this match.  Soon after Trevor Cooper fell early to a good ball from Malcolm, that same Malcolm was lurking down at long leg while Adam Hinks bowled to Colin.  A relative whippet, Colin calls Mike Archer for a second never thinking that Malcolm might attempt the bowler’s end with his throw. “Bowler,” screams Malcolm and throws to the bowler’s end in the hope that Adam can gather the ball and run the man out.  But Adam wasn’t needed.  A direct hit at a vast distance saw Mike Archer go in most unfortunate circumstances.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, soon after, Glenn Young, early in his innings, hits a ball hard to mid off – where Adam Hinks wears it on the body and takes the catch.  A yard either side and it would have been four.  Had Ian Harris (mid off to the right-hander) and Adam swapped over for the left-handed Glenn, that probably would also have been four, carrying Ian over the rope with the ball, all the way from mid off.

On such small matters can victory and defeat hinge.  But in any case The Children’s Society were bowling a consistent and pacey line and length.  Adam’s first spell from the Bowling Green End had not been quite his best, but Malcolm’s first from the Bungalow End applied pressure and Big Bad Simon seemed well equipped to cope at the Bowling Green End.  Rob Morley was no relief at the Bungalow End; although he went wicketless he was in many ways the pick of the bowlers 0/30 off 8.

Over 15 seemed the right time for a change of pace and The Children’s Society sought another breakthrough.  Although the run rate seemed under control and the Tufties were 3 down, everyone knew from past experience how quickly such a match can get away from you.  That wicked-fast outfield and the short boundary on the Ian Harris Stand side of the ground.  Also, those Tufties bat all the way down and have previous in holding back some surprise hitters into the late order to bamboozle their opponents.

Enter The Children’s Society’s partnership breaker, Charles Bartlett, from the Bowling Green End.  As if to order, a simple catch is spooned to mid off where RBK, possibly still picking broken bits of telephone out of his hand, drops a sitter.  “Can’t you get your fielders to blooming well catch?” yelled Bartlett.  “No I can’t”, replied the captain, “I can put them in the right positions but I can’t make them catch”.  Charles Bartlett took some tonk for the rest of the over, which turned out to be a one-over spell.

When Charles Bartlett returned from the Bungalow End, another simple catch went begging, this time ABK (also probably down to the freak telephone/hand injury).  “What is it with those Britten-Kelly’s?” said Charles, somewhat uncharitably for the former captain of a charity team.

Meanwhile the asking rate kept creeping up and the wickets were falling at fairly regular intervals.  Nick Church top scored with 38 but rarely looked completely comfortable and offered more than one chance before he fell.  Harish managed one of those juggling drops where you feel that the fielder had three or more chances to catch it but still didn’t make it.  Ian Harris knows all about those and made incisive but sympathetic noises when these rare aberrations occurred.

Eventually, Nick Church hit one very straight but also very high.  Marko and Malcolm converged (incisive captaincy that, best fielders at long off and long on at that stage of the match – youngsters reading this report in search of instruction should note).  Was there to be a dreadful accident?  “Mine” yelled Marko in a masterful voice at which point no-one (apart from Marko) believed for one moment that the catch might be dropped.  In any case it wasn’t and Nick was gone for 38.

Trevor Stapleton provided an anchor role and hit some lusty blows for his 33, before falling to a deceptively straight delivery that he fancied sending into the bungalows and probably would have done had he hit it.

Several others chipped in with some good shots and cameo innings, but with 15 overs to go and more than 10 an over required, that wasn’t going to be enough.  Adam Hinks returned, this time from the Bungalow End, and bowled a superb second spell at the death, returning 2/31 off his full 8.

The Children’s Society pleaded with the late order batsmen to sacrifice their wickets or retire so that Geoff Young could get a bit of a bat at the end of the match, but the Tufties would not oblige and Geoff was shouting coded instructions from the sidelines, such as “stay out there.  I don’t want to bat” and that sort of thing.  188/8 off 40 was the final score.

And so to the pub

The awards ceremony and raffle was held in the pub, as is the tradition of the fixture.  Firstly, there was a grand cake to be cut by the highest scoring batsman of the day.  Mat was about to leap out of his chair and start cutting cake as effectively as he had cut the short delivery a few hours earlier, but Masters of Ceremonies Stapleton and Archer soon intervened.  Relying on an ancient playing condition from the village annals of 1737 (which looked suspiciously like a dusty old ledger from the back of the pub), 7 runs per year were to be added to the score of any visiting player over the age of 50.  That made Charles Bartlett the cake-cutter and thus he cut the cake.

Then those Masters of Ceremonies tried to turn defeat into victory by relying on the same strange playing condition, adding 3 runs per year to the home score for each home player over 50.  Remembering everything he had learnt from the Art of Captaincy about respecting the strange traditions of far-flung places when playing away, Ian Harris diplomatically responded that these playing conditions sounded perfectly reasonable and had they been agreed upon before the match would naturally have been applied.  However, that not being the case, the conventional score should stand.  This was agreed unanimously.

In interview afterwards, Ian Harris informed this reporter that he had a further finesse up his sleeve, the even lesser known Edward Rudolf playing condition in which both teams score gains 10 runs for each left-hander inflicted on them by the opposition team.  The Children’s Society out of politeness has always withheld from using this playing condition.

Ian Harris further pointed out that the Tufty Stackpole playing condition of 1737 can only remain effective until October 2006, when the new Age Discrimination legislation comes into full force.  Mercifully, therefore, this particular debate could not legitimately occur next year.

With the outcome resolved, The Children’s Society accepted their trophy and the match awards were duly made.  Nick Church and Adam Hinks won sets of Owzat dice as Man of the Match for each team.   Mat Watson and Trevor Stapleton received match balls for their superb efforts.

The raffle was drawn, beer and cake flowed long into the night and a very good time was had by all.

Most importantly, the raffle raised more money than ever and Tufty Stakepole even managed to stiff Ian Harris for £50 a year ground rent (to The Children’s Society of course) for the Ian Harris Stand!

Arabian Nights Party at Sandall Close – Playlist, 24 June 2006

Arabian Nights or Moroccan Den

I had recently acquired my first iPod – a gift from Kim and Micky, so this was my first party playlist and by gosh I did it the hard way.

Had to do it the hard way, really, as my music collection was all CDs and vinyl, so I ripped (in the case of CDs) or specifically digitised through a sound box/Audacity (in the case of vinyl) every single track I wanted for this party.

Not quite as onerous as the old cassette and reel-to-reel compilation tapes, but hardly the “quick search and click” ability I now have, as my whole collection is digitised and in the cloud on iTunes (other cloud music services are available.

Here’s the CD Box Style thing that iTunes does for you, but it only shows the first 22 tracks…

Daisy Partial Party Playlist CD Box Stylee with image

…there are actually 114 tracks on this playlist; over 8 hours of music. Here’s the full list:

Daisy Whole Party 2006 Playlist

Ramzy and much, much more music

I made the first hour or more solidly Arabian style to go with the theme of the party – click here for a link to the story of the party and more besides. Then a more conventional party playlist, with the mandatory Barry White for Phillie and plenty of dance music for Janie.

There’s some seriously good stuff on there, though I say so myself. Janie and I still listen to that list reasonably often, even though I have better digital recordings of many of those tracks now.

Middlesex v Lancashire Day 3 at Lord’s 23 June 2006, Arabian Nights Party at Sandall Close 24 June 2006

Arabian Nights or Moroccan Den?

At the time of writing (January 2017) I was sent scurrying for my 2006 diary when King Cricket reported that Lancastrian cricketer Tom Smith had retired.

Like King Cricket, I first saw Tom Smith play in the summer of 2006, but in my case it was June and the weather was lovely.

My diary simply has a line through the Friday daytime and the word “Lord’s”. That means I went to Lord’s with me, myself and a heap of reading.

By the start of Day 3 (the Friday), the result of the match was barely in doubt; it was really only a question of whether Middlesex could salvage some pride and bat for a day on the road we call the Lord’s pitch.

Click here for the match scorecard.

I remember that day at Lord’s primarily for one silly thing, which, as it happens, did involve Tom Smith.

I chose to follow the sun (top up the tan for tomorrow’s party), so by the afternoon I had plonked myself in the front row of the Mound Stand, closer to the Edrich than the Tavern.

Scott Styris in particular was batting well; with some aggression as well as for survival. On one occasion Styris lofted the ball into vacant space, in my direction; a couple of bounces, then the ball bounced up and pretty much landed on my lap. To this day it is the only time I can recall the ball absolutely coming to me, personally, while watching a professional match.

I had on my lap at that juncture not only the book I was reading but also an apple I was about to munch by way of light lunch.

Tom Smith arrived to gather the ball. I considered throwing him the apple rather than the ball but momentarily thought better of it and simply threw him the ball. I then spent the rest of the afternoon regretting that I hadn’t played that practical joke on Tom Smith.

Smith looked very sharp as a pace bowler back then. I remember being very impressed with him, even though his figures for the day don’t look special. He looked “the lad most likely” that afternoon on a very flat track and I remember carrying high hopes for him as an England bowling prospect for a few years.

Saturday 24 June 2006

There is a line through Saturday which reads “party”, as it was the day of the famous “Arabian Nights/Moroccan Den” party at Daisy’s old maisonette in Sandall Close.

Tony (downstairs) let us use his garden as well as ours (in return for an invitation). Kim and DJ’s company, Theme Traders, themed the gardens up for the party (see picture above).

The weather was glorious for that one and the party really was a huge success. I struggled to take photographs on the night (enjoying myself too much and then couldn’t get the flash to flash) but perhaps some better pictures will emerge from friends.

I can just about make out Bobbie and John-Boy in the background. Tony in the foreground and a few members of the family.

There were quite a lot of people at the party; a few dozen anyway. I’m pretty sure I recall Bobbie, her Dave, Andrea and one or two others hanging around with us until very late indeed; it was one of those parties that people didn’t want to end.

I had just acquired my first iPod and I made up a good playlist for this party. I’ll dump the playlist in a file and attach it as an aside later.

Daisy (Janie) might well want to chip in with some memories of this party too.

Iphigenia Comes With Me To Southgate, Middlesex v Yorkshire, 8 June 2006

Pretty much everything I want to say about this day is said in my King Cricket “book at cricket review”, which was published 31 August 2017 – here.

Just in case anything ever happens to King Cricket, the above piece is scraped to Ogblog here.

Strangely, within a few minutes of King Cricket publishing my piece, someone fired a crossbow in the direction of the Oval, which seemed more news-like than my 2006 book reading at Southgate.

Oh well.

One additional point that I missed from the King Cricket piece, in the interests of brevity, is to describe where I was sitting and where Michael Vaughan was fielding that day at The Walker Ground, Southgate.

I was seated at the opposite end to The Waterfall Road end; The Barnet & Southgate College end, I should imagine it is called. Michael Vaughan was fielding at Fine Leg or “Fine Barnet” as that position is known at that ground.

Aggers: It’s going to be a close run thing deciding the “fine barnet of the match” today; it’s got to be down to either Alec Stewart or Michael Vaughan. Frankly they’ve both put in stunning performances, both superb exponents of the late cut…

A Conversation With My Neighbour When Staying at the Beechwood Hotel, 24 to 26 May 2006

The following is a note I wrote up on my jotter while staying at the “hell hole” that was the Beechwood Hotel in Edgbaston for the Sri Lanka test match in May 2006, as written up comprehensively – click here.

The Beechwood Garden and Roller. With thanks to Charles Bartlett for this picture.
The Beechwood Garden and Roller.
With thanks to Charles Bartlett for this picture.

It relates to a conversation I had with my next door neighbour.

The door to the next room was wide open. At first I thought my neighbour was engaged in conversation with someone – perhaps in the room but unseen by me, perhaps on his mobile phone. As I put the key into the lock of my door, he yelled out, unmistakably at me, “hello young fella. We’re neighbours, mate”.

‘Young fella’ is an endearing moniker once you get to my age. (These days only stewards at Lord’s and front of house staff at the Wigmore Hall still seem to use it for me.)

I took a couple of steps back and greeted my neighbour. He was certainly alone in the room and as far as I could tell had not been talking to anyone other than himself before I arrived.

He was bare chested – a strange sight in an old Victorian house/hotel in that Midlands City in spring – indeed I was going to my room to get an extra layer for the evening. He was drinking a can of lager.

“Sorry mate, I’m a bit pissed”, he said. It was 18:30 – probably par for his course.

“No problem”, I replied, “why not? You enjoy yourself.”

“That’s the spirit”, said my neighbour, “you going out for the evening?”

“That’s right”, I said.

“Well you have a good time, mate”, said my neighbour.

“And you have a good evening too”, I replied.

“That’s the spirit, mate”, he hollered after me as I scuttled the few steps along the corridor, quickly opened up the door to my room, grabbed my jersey, locked up again and fled for the evening.

The Worst Place We Have Ever Stayed In For Cricket, England v Sri Lanka at Edgbaston, 25 & 26 May 2006

The Beechwood Hotel Garden and Roller. With thanks to Charles Bartlett for this picture.

How did our regular Edgbaston (and occasionally other grounds) visiting group, the Heavy Rollers, end up staying at possibly the worst hotel of all time? After all, we comprise a bunch of reasonably discerning, sensible people.

The very worst hotels only happen to stupid people, right?  Wrong.

But this event does needs some context and explanation in our defence before the exposition.

Context

For several years, our excursion was based around the Wadderton Conference Centre, which was the Children’s Society place in rural Worcestershire, just outside Birmingham. David Steed, who was one of our number in the Heavy Rollers, ran the place and lived on site. The Children’s Society was pleased for a bit of income from guests in the quiet summer period and it was mighty convenient and pleasant for us, with a suitable garden for pre-match cricket antics.

Just in case anything ever happens to the local paper on-line, a scrape of the above link about Wadderton can be found here.

Reports on those pre-test-match games held in the Wadderton gardens are now available on Ogblog, not least the one from 2004 linked here and below:

But Wadderton had closed down permanently in the 2004/2005 winter.

In 2005 we spent one splendid night, before the match, at Tye Towers. We then spent on night at Harbourne Hall – VSO’s equivalent place to The Children’s Society’s Wadderton – a place to which we returned subsequently several times before it declined.

But for some reason people, after that first stay, wanted an alternative. It was perhaps perceived as too far from the ground (although it was much closer than Wadderton). Perhaps people felt it reminded them too much of Wadderton without “being” Wadderton.

David Steed, living locally, said he’d sort something out.

Now David Steed, bless him, ran Wadderton wonderfully and was subsequently a superb host at his Birmingham house. But he possibly wasn’t the best judge of a hotel. Cheap and near the ground seemed sufficient criteria for him. His e-mail a few weeks before the match:

Accommodation is confirmed as previously written about and subsequent telephone chat at Beechwood Hotel on the Bristol Road approx. 200 yards from the main entrance at Edgbaston…

…No deposits required and as we have spoken – do people want to come early enough on the Wednesday to perform on our local green followed by supper at ours with a meal out locally or in Brum on the Thurs. night. Any thoughts ?

That “subsequent telephone chat” was not with me. Anyone dare to confess?

Of course, in a more modern era we might have looked at TripAdvisor or one of its competitor/predecessor sites to check the Beechwood Hotel, but back then those web sites didn’t exist, or barely existed.

The earliest reviews of the Beechwood Hotel on holidaywatchdog.com, for example, were in 2007. Let’s just say that I would not have dreamt of staying in a place described by one reviewer as:

“Hell hole”

…while another reviewer pleaded:

“DO NOT STAY THERE, you’d be better off in a cardboard box.”

Indeed, if you want a laugh, do look at those reviews in full on the above link to the Beechwood Hotel page on holidaywatchdog.com – indeed here is the link again.

The “gentleman” who held himself out to us as the owner/proprietor, I suppose must have been the infamous Tom mentioned in several of the reviews.

Just in case anything ever goes awry with holidaywatchdog.com, here is a scrape of that delicious reviews page.

Exposition

Nigel recalls that the main light in Adam’s room didn’t work because the light bulb had blown. When Adam approached Tom for a replacement light bulb, he was told to fill in a form to apply for a replacement – the replacement was thus not forthcoming during our stay.

The place was presumably used in part as a sort-of social services half-way house for people who were having a multitude of difficulties. I shall post an aside presently based on my notes about my alarming next door neighbour – (update: now posted here).

Although David had promised us that the rooms came

“each with private bathroom”…

…I seem to recall having to toddle down the corridor to get to said bathroom. “Private”, I suppose, does not necessarily mean “en suite” in this Beechwood world. I also recall some very inappropriate jokes about Zyklon B from my companions during conversations about those ghastly showers.

But the most bizarre conversations were with Tom, who tended to sidle up to us in the bar/common parts areas of the hotel and bend our ears with tales of his roller-coaster and/or imagined past. I made some fragmented notes:

“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…”

…you get the idea.

But Tom was not the owner/proprietor, if the little bit of Companies House due diligence I have done this weekend (another form of on-line check not readily available back then) is reliable. Tom must have been employed as some sort of manager by the owners; his name does not appear on any of the Companies House papers for the Company that owned the property, 199-201 Bristol Road, it was owned by members of a family, named, perhaps ironically, Kang.

A couple of years after our stay, the place was a squat for Earth First Social Justice Permaculture warriors, as evidenced by the following links:

(Just in case anything ever happens to the Earth First website or to the Birmingham Mail, I have scraped the relevant pages here).

The company that owned the property was only struck off a few months ago at the time of writing, December 2015, so I imagine the property is now in the hands of the Mortgage provider, Nat West, who surely could find some property developer somewhere who might adapt the premises into some jolly useful affordable housing in leafy Edgbaston.

Two Nights and Two Days of Cricket

Why were we there?  Oh yes, cricket.

We had a net at Edgbaston itself on the Wednesday evening. I’m not entirely sure how our evening panned out, but – having now also seen an e-mail from Nigel sent to us ahead of the trip – I suspect that the net was late afternoon – Nigel’s e-mail suggests 17:00 start – and that the game on David’s local green was therefore a that same evening at, say, 19:00.

I also suspect that my conversation with my Beechwood Hotel neighbour – click here- was also that same first evening, while I was popping back to the room to get an extra warm layer ahead of the evening activities.

Anyway, the muck-about game on David’s local green, the night before the test match started, did not go well for me, as evidenced by this page of my jotter.

2006 Muck About Cricket

Nigel “Father Barry” and son did well, as did a local lad, Craig, who wandered along and asked if he could play with us.

Harish (Harsha Ghoble) also had a good go, although I do recall bowling him on one occasion with one of my moon balls which descended vertically onto the stumps. “How are you supposed to play a ball like that?”, complained Harish. Nigel then dispatched my next, similar ball for six. “Like that”, said Nigel.

I also recall lots of bites on my legs afterwards, although whether those were from the green or the hotel is a matter of some conjecture. Perhaps a bit of both.

Postscript March 2017 – the scorecard relic and narrative about the park muckabout game is  a false memory from 2006 – that happened in 2008 and the text is transposed to that piece, together with a link to Charles Bartlett’s wonderful 2008 photographs that helped me to disambiguate. It seemed a ridiculous idea, that we had a net AND a muckabout in the park the same evening…it was ridiculous – didn’t happen.

The dinner at David’s on the Wednesday evening was typically delicious and (equally typically) the wine flowed plentifully. We had a great evening, that Wednesday before the game.

Heavy Rollers 2006 With thanks to Charles Bartlett for this picture.
Heavy Rollers 2006
With thanks to Charles Bartlett for this picture.

I don’t remember all that much about the test match, but I do recall that England did well and here is a link to the scorecard which proves such.

Light Rollers 2006 With thanks to Charles Bartlett for this picture.
Light Rollers 2006
With thanks to Charles Bartlett for this picture.

I’m not 100% sure where we ate on the Thursday night, but I think it was that year we went to a local Indian place near Steed Towers. Others might recall better. I think I was in “Beechwood Hotel shock” by then. It really was not a place for the faint-hearted.

Or, as Charley the Gent Malloy would put it, “that hotel was no place for a wuss.”

The Day Michael Mainelli & I Witnessed Nick Compton Make His Maiden County Championship Hundred From The Compton Stand, 28 April 2006

A little over 10 years later…

Michael Mainelli and I had formed a tradition – I think 2006 was the third instance of it – that I would take Michael as my guest to a day of county cricket early season, before the crowds get larger and (most importantly) before the days get hotter.

Some like it hot, but Michael REALLY doesn’t like it hot.

So, Day 3, Friday, first county championship match of the season seemed just the ticket. In many ways it was. Middlesex v Kent. Good fixture. April.

The match was well advanced by the start of Day 3 but not too well advanced.

The cricinfo scorecard and resources for this match can be found here.

As tradition would have it…this sort of thing IS a tradition by the third time, possibly even by the second time…we watched the first session from the pavilion. Then, at lunch, as tradition would also have it, we perambulated on the outfield (smaller crowd than Middlesex’s glorious September 2016 match depicted above), then retired to Harry Morgan to grab some takeaway New York deli-style food – probably a chopped liver sandwich to share plus a salt beef sandwich each plus some pickled cucumbers.

We took our feast back to Lord’s in time to munch, drink some fine red wine and watch the second session of cricket from the Compton Stand.

The Compton Stand offered a rather binary choice; absolutely exposed to the elements in the upper tier, or caged in away from the elements in the lower tier. As I write in September 2019, that stand is being demolished, together with its smaller twin, the Edrich, to be replaced by more modern facilities.

Anyway, in April we opted for the upper and the sunshine while we ate our hot food, rather than the wind-tunnel cooling effect of the shady, cagey lower tier.

We finished our grub around about the time that Nick Compton’s fine innings for Middlesex entered the nervous nineties. I explained to Michael that the lad had been on Middlesex’s books for some years but this was, hopefully, to be his breakthrough season. He had just scored a big hundred in a University warm-up match but this might be his first County Championship hundred.

Shouldn’t we move now to a shady spot? Perhaps the pavilion again or the Warner?

I asked Michael, noticing a few beads of sweat and a slight reddening of the face. It was proper sunshine that day and by mid afternoon it was really quite warm.

Let’s wait and see Compton get his hundred. We should see Compton get his first hundred from the Compton Stand,

Michael replied; a cricket aficionado in the making.

Michael’s early effort in 1998; a Z/Yen & Barnardo’s & The Children’s Society match

We could go down to the lower tier and get some shade…that’s still the Compton Stand…

I suggested.

No, said Michael, we shouldn’t move. He’s in the nineties.

Now anyone who knows Michael surely knows that he is one of the least superstitious people you are ever likely to meet. He’s logical. He’s rational.

But cricket seems to get all of us…yes, even Michael, with quirky superstitions. Perhaps all sport does this to some extent, but cricket has superstition in spades.

And of course Michael had enough exposure to cricket through our charity matches and stuff to really understand that a century is a big achievement and a maiden century a really big thing…

…Nick Compton also knew the importance of making a ton, of course…

…so Nick’s nervous 90s went on for rather a long time…it seemed like a very, very long time…

…while Michael got hotter and hotter; ruddier and ruddier. I asked him a couple more times if he wanted to move, but Michael was glued to the cricket and absolutely intent on not jinxing Nick Compton’s century quest.

Within moments of Nick achieving his hundred, Michael was up and we were away in the direction of the shade. I think we went back to the pavilion for the rest of that very pleasant spring day.

Here’s that cricinfo scorecard and resources link again.

The 2008 Z/Yen & Children’s Society Match. Michael looks more assured by then.