…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.
We took a Monday off work to enjoy a lunchtime concert at the V&A, then meander around that space and then go to the evening Prom at the Royal Albert hall.
This was the lunchtime concert:
Francesco Gasparini – Quanto sei penosa
Arcangelo Corelli – 12 Trio Sonatas, Op 1 No. 9 in G major
Innocenzo Fede – Bellezze voi siete
Innocenzo Fede – Sei pur dolce
Innocenzo Fede – Violin Sonata in D minor
Alessandro Scarlatti – Correa nel seno amato
London Baroque was the chamber orchestra, with Charles Medlam leading and Catherine Bott beautifully belting the soprano bits.
I wrote surprisingly vaguely about this in my log, as I am sure I wrote it up fairly soon after seeing the play:
unsure of length – recall shortish no interval
Impressionistically, I remember the evening fondly. Paula Wilcox was an actress I had only previously seen doing sitcom, but I remember realising that she really could act…and needed to for this piece.
Fortunately for posterity, despite its small scale, it was written up by proper journalists at the time. So I didn’t need to.
Robin Stringer previewed the piece in the Standard:
This was a preview of a show Ken Campbell put on at The Piccadilly Thetre later that year.
I loved Ken Campbell’s work and I seem to recall a very funny monologue in one of his earlier one-man shows when he talked about his fascination with the New Hebrides (now Vanuatu) and vaguely posited the idea of performing MacBeth in pidgin.
In this piece, Campbell goes into far more detail about the language and his desire to establish pidgin as a world language, or Wol Wontok, which he believed could be achieved in just a few days as the language is so easy.
Here is Ken Campbell’s Guardian piece shown on the back of the programme note above, in proper clipping/readable form:
The first part of the prodcution was fascinating and funny, but, in truth, Janie and I found the delivery of MacBeth in pidgin less funny than the idea of it being done.
Never mind. An evening in the hands of Ken Campbell is never dull and I remember this evening more fondly than my log note suggests I would:
Not as much fun as we thought it might be – the idea is funnier than the delivery
Somewhat strangely, through work, soon after seeing this play, I met Patrick Ellum, who was a former Attorney General of Vanuatu. Through Patrick, I met one of that nation’s visiting Prime Ministers and his entourage. No, I didn’t try out my pidgin on them, although I did ask them about the deification of Prince Philip in Tanna. Hopefully I’ll Ogblog that event in the fullness of time.
But I digress.
“Prince Philip” in pidgin was, “nambawan bigfella emi blong Misis Kwin“, by the way.
I digress again, but no more.
Lyn Gardner in the Guardian gave Pidgin Macbeth a guarded thumps up, while signally failing to translate The Bard’s name into pidgin properly – it’s “Macbed Blong Wilum Sekspia“, dear, not Sekstia – typical Grauniad:
No doubt a plan mainly cooked up by Janie and Kim and Phillie. Notes in Janie’s diary suggest that she took control of the arrangements:
9:30 to 5:30… Boat trip… £150. Nobby and Phil. Deposit £500. Ring Elisabeth Mainelli. Open cabin cruiser £150. Bray Boats. Nobby. [presumably the boat man, not my car, which was at that time, coincidentally, a Honda CRX named Nobby].
Janie, with Nobby, at his last resting place
Us lot. A boat. A river. What could possibly go wrong?
Actually, I don’t think anything went wrong. I think we had rather a splendid day out, in fact.
I did have a contretemps with a swan at one point…
In truth, I’m not at home on a boat
…but we resolved our differences and were able to share the river in harmony for the rest of the trip.
Micky – more at home on boats than mePresumably that’s Nobby, with Phillie and Janie supping wine beyondStunning river scenesCharlie & Phillie
Janie cannot really add to the memory pile, other than concurring that we all had a memorable and enjoyable day.
Update: Charlotte indeed remembers:
Oh my goodness, yes I do remember this.
I think it may even have been the trip where my Dad felt he was the boating ‘expert’ and got grumpy when Mum and Janie took control of navigating some of the Locks!!! He may have had a point though as I think mum’s shoe fell into the river as part of said activities at one point!!
But the most shocking point to make is WHAT was I wearing?! Honestly, that’s a crime against humanity!
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.
