Reflections On The Day England U19s Won The Cricket World Cup In South Africa, 1 February 1998

I am writing in January 2020, on the day the U19 Cricket World Cup in South Africa is starting.

Last time the U19 Cricket World Cup was in South Africa was early 1998. That was also the last time (and so far the only time) that England won the U19 World Cup.

Here is a link to the scorecard of the final, in which England beat New Zealand.

My friends over at King Cricket will be delighted to see Rob Key’s name on that scorecard.

Rob Key is “a thing” on King Cricket:

Rob Key had a fine tournament, although not such a magnificent final.

It was Stephen Peters who topped the scoring/batting averages for England in that tournament and who scored the “man of the match ton” in the final.

It turns out that Peters was Essex in those days and hails from Harold Wood – Charley “The Gent” Malloy territory.

That thought made me realise that, in February 1998, I had only recently met Charles through our work at The Children’s Society and I had neither met Nigel “Father Barry” nor “Big Papa Zambesi” Jeff…yet. At that juncture, Charles was working mainly with Mike Smith. Coincidentally, Janie and I spent the evening with Mike and Marianna less than two weeks ago as I write:

It wasn’t until that summer, 1998, by which time I was also working with Nigel and Jeff, that I learnt that Chas, Nigel, Jeff…they all had a passion for cricket.

It must have been July, that topsy-turvy 1998 test series between England & South Africa was well under way. Jeff and I were going to visit a project in Mitcham – I had arranged to drive over to Clerkenwell, meet to plan the visit and then drive Jeff out to Mitcham.

When we got to the car, I tentatively asked Jeff if he would mind if I put the test match on the radio while we drove out there. Jeff’s trademark big beaming smile appeared on his face and he said,

I’d been trying to work out how to phrase that question politely to you…

…we listened all the way to the project (while also discussing cricket of course) and then again when we left the project. I arranged to drop Jeff at one of the Northern Line Tootings or Balham before I went on to see my folks.

It was a very hot late afternoon and I took the roof off Nobby – one of the very few times I did that. Big Papa Zambesi Jeff must have been grateful for the extra head room in a topless Nobby (as it were).

Janie, with Nobby, at his last resting place

I recall England taking a wicket when we were stopped at traffic lights somewhere around Tooting and we must have looked a right pair of charlies in that car leaping for joy at an announcement on the radio.

But returning to the U19 World Cup Final match on 1 February 1998, I realise that Nobby was just a twinkle in my and Janie’s eyes on that day. I think we had seen Mack the day before that final and arranged to buy Nobby. The deal was done the following Saturday…

…and I think it was the Saturday after that, in deep midwinter, that Janie and I visited the Mainellis in Nobby to see their newborn baby, Xenia, at the end of which Rupert Stubbs and the other visitors insisted on seeing us drive off with Nobby’s roof off. We drove round the corner, put the roof back on and tried to stop shivering all the way home.

I was trying to recall how I followed the tournament and that 1 February 1998 match.

To some extent, I think

No on-line all the time Cricinfo in those days. Ceefax was the only source of constantly updating cricket scores.

But I think also, in those days, Janie and I could hear sky commentary on her Videotron cable TV arrangement. She didn’t have the additional Sky sports subscription in those days – most of the cricket was terrestrial, free-to-air, but the scrambled channels, such as the sports ones, had sound all the time with the picture scrambled. I have a feeling we followed bits of that final that way.

But my main reflections are of how long ago all of that was and the journey I have shared with so many of those characters over the decades…

…and of the cricket careers that have come and gone for those (then) youngsters who fought that final. Most of the finalists went on to professional careers, many international ones. Some glorious, some less than glorious, but all interesting.

Here’s that U19 World Cup Final 1998 scorecard again.

The Chairs by Eugene Ionesco, Royal Court Theatre At The Duke Of York’s Theatre, 31 January 1998

Weird evening

That’s all I wrote in my log.

I’m not too sure what made the evening weird.

We ate at Fung Shing afterwards, as planned, that I do know. Which was a return to the “scene of the crime” from the Z/Yen Christmas do a few week’s earlier…

I guess neither of us quite got our heads around The Chairs. You need to be in the mood for Ionesco and perhaps we weren’t.

This version was Martin Crimp’s adaptation and Simon McBurney/Théâtre de Complicité’s production, so weirdness was probably very much the order of the evening. Richard Briers and Geraldine McEwan led the cast. Here is the Theatricalia entry for the production.

“What did the papers say about it?” I hear you cry.

Charles Spencer in The Telegraph liked it, while denying that we should read too much into the piece – darned right!

26 Nov 1997, Wed The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Nicholas de Jongh in the Standard said it is the “weirdest French farce of them all”, making my simply “weird” comment more understandable.

25 Nov 1997, Tue Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Michael Billington in The Guardian thought the production brilliant:

Chairs Billington GuardianChairs Billington Guardian 25 Nov 1997, Tue The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

The Day I Stood Still by Kevin Elyot, Cottesloe Theatre, 24 January 1998

Superb. One of the best.

My logged comment suggest that we really liked this one. We both really did.

There is a Theatricalia entry for this one with all the details – click here. Adrian Scarborough was excellent in the lead role. Ian Rickson directed.

Nicholas de Jongh liked it in The Standard:

23 Jan 1998, Fri Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

My friend Michael Billington liked it but didn’t love it in The Guardian:

23 Jan 1998, Fri The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Similarly Suzannah Clapp in The Observer, whose review reminds me that the critics main reservation about this play is that they didn’t like it as much as they liked Elyot’s (also wonderful) My Night With Reg.

25 Jan 1998, Sun The Observer (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Charles Spencer in The Telegraph also spoke highly of it with some limitations:

31 Jan 1998, Sat The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

The Rose Tattoo by Tennessee Williams, Questors Studio, 17 January 1998

We went to the Questor’s with The Duchess (Janie’s mum) that night. Unusually, there is no mention of a meal in a restaurant afterwards, but Janie’s diary has lots of notes about her mum going off to Tunisia on holiday the next day, so my guess is that we agreed to just go to the theatre and separately had light suppers at the respective homes afterwards.

As for the play/production, I noted that this was a:

…very good Questor’s production

Janie and I are especially partial to Tennessee Williams – it is a credit to this production that we liked it, as we sense that Williams is not easy to produce well. The Rose Tattoo is not Williams best/easiest play either.

The Questor’s has a super archive for all its productions – here is a link to the archive for this one.

I have downloaded the inside of the programme which includes a handwritten note that tells us this was the first night of the production.

A decade later, Janie and I saw a top notch professional production of this play…

It is inappropriate to compare the two – Zoe Wannamaker played the lead at The National. Suffice it to say that I remember both productions well and fondly.

That’s What We Call NewsRevue, Newsrevue Lyric, 11 January 1998

I remember being very dissatisfied with this one when I wrote it. Mike Ward from the Actor’s Workshop had suggested the idea to me, which was a good one. But it came out, in my opinion, very tired, bitchy and unfunny. It is the last NewsRevue lyric in my log and I suspect that it was the writing of this one that convinced me that I was out of ideas and needed to retire from NewsRevue lyric writing, at least temporarily, although it proved to be a permanent retirement.

There is irony in the fact that I used the tune That Is the End Of the News for the lyric that, in effect, marked the end of NewsRevue for me.

THAT’S WHAT WE CALL NEWS REVUE
(To the Tune of “That is the End of the News”)

 

INTRO 1

We are told, very loudly and often to lift up our hearts;
We are told, that good humour might soften life’s cruel old farts.
So however bad economic troubles might be,
We just lampoon our leaders and sing with glee.

VERSE 1

Heigh-ho, Blair’s mob are pains again,
New bye elections might see Tory gains again;
Word is Hague’s gay as he, like Peter Lilley,
Prefers his to hers when it comes to his willy.

VERSE 2

We’re so glad Harriet Harman,
Is screwing lone parents at rates so alarming;
We’ve now learned New Labour has more cuts than sabres,
As heartless as those Tory Blues.

MIDDLE EIGHT 1

We’re delighted,
To be able to say,
Gordon Brown is not gay,
He’s depressed;
We’re excited,
Now the pounds out of range,
Of the Euro,
It’s all for the best.

OUTRO 1

Three cheers, Jack Straw’s been trusted,
With stamping out drugs although his son’s been busted;
While Mandelson’s heaven is Brighton, not Devon,
And that’s what we call News Revue.

 

INTRO 2

We are told ghastly jokes in the City when drinking in bars,
We are told that it’s charming and witty to mimic the stars;
So when fortune gives them a cup of hemlock to quaff,
We perform songs and sketches and laugh laugh laugh.

VERSE 3

Heigh-ho, Prodigy’s fearful,
We wish that Oasis were slightly more cheerful;
With Spice Girls these days getting booed off the stage, it,
Appears Pulp themselves need some help, they’re so aged;

VERSE 4

Now don’t laugh at poor Mrs Merton,
But nor do her viewers, that’s her final curtain;
The lovers of draggage, prefer Lily Savage,
It must be her splendid hair-dos.

MIDDLE EIGHT 2

Winning days, see,
Greg Rosetsky win games,
He’s as English as mounties and moose;
Football’s crazy,
Gazza beats up his dames,
But he’s gentle compared with “The Juice”.

OUTRO 2

What fun, Paula Yates’ tippled,
They say Posh Spice has a new ring through her nipple;
Now she’s got seven,
While Mel has eleven,
And that’s what we call News Revue,
Yes that’s what we call News Revue.

Below is a video of Joyce Grenfell singing That Is the End Of The News – I cannot find Noel Coward’s original on the web:

Click here for the lyrics to that Is the End Of the News.

Beef Bones, NewsRevue Lyric, 11 January 1998

Jack Cunningham was the Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food. I had a bit of a thing about the beef-on-the-bone ban – as reported in an earlier piece – click here – which resulted in my spleen being vented in the Daily Telegraph of all dreadful places:

Beef On The Bone Risk Compared With Christmas Risk, Z/Yen Public Relations Stunt, 5 December 1997

Then I resorted to NewsRevue lyric on the topic.

BEEF BONES
(To the Tune of “Dry Bones”)

INTRO

Jack Cunningham cried “dem beef bones”,
Jack Cunningham cried “dem beef bones”,
Jack Cunningham cried “dem beef bones”,
Now hear the word of “The Doc”.

Jack Cunningham banned all of dem beef bones,
Jack Cunningham banned all of dem beef bones,
Jack Cunningham banned all of dem beef bones,
Now hear the word of the law.

VERSE 1

The tail bone’s connected to the back bone,
The back bone’s connected to the head bone,
The head bone’s connected to the prion,
The prion’s connected to the BSE,
The BSE’s connected to the CJD,
The CJD’s connected to the export ban,
The export ban’s connected to the Euro man,
The Euro man’s connected to the bureaucrat,
The bureaucrat’s connected to the science rat,
The science rat’s injected with the beef bone,

So here’s the cause of the ban.

OUTRO

Dem bans, dem bans, beef bone bans,
Dem bans, dem bans, beef bone bans,
Dem bans, dem bans, beef bone bans,
So here’s a true loony law.

Disobey dem bans, beef bone bans,
Disobey dem bans, beef bone bans,
Disobey dem bans, beef bone bans,
And stuff the word of the law,
Stuff the word of the law.

Below are the Delta Rhythm Boys singing Dry Bones:

Click here for the lyrics to Dry Bones.

Submission To Andy Coleman & Dan Clark Re NewsRevue, 11 January 1998

Andy Coleman / Dan Clark
News Revue
11 January 1998

Dear Andy/Dan

I enclose my new/unused material together with a tape of the sounds.

If you want any of my “archive material” rewritten or some tweaks to the enclosed songs, let me know. Also, if there are any subjects which you feel desperately need a song – give us a call.

Good luck and I look forward to seeing you soon.

Ian

Song Title
Original Title/
Artist Approx.. No. of weeks performed at Canal Cafe
7+ 4-6 1-3 New
geoffrey robinson
mrs robinson / simon and garfunkle N
that’s what we call news revue that is the end of the news / (noel coward) performers unknown N
beef bones dry bones / fred waring and the pennsylvanians N
gaudy dames
gaudete / medaeival baebes N
spin talk wizard
pinball wizard / who N

Geoffrey Robinson, NewsRevue Lyric, 9 January 1998

Geoffrey Robinson was the Paymaster General in Tony Blair’s first government. He lost that job in late 1998 over the Peter Mandelson home loan scandal covered by version two of the lyric below. 

Coincidentally, that Mandelson home was a few blocks away from my flat; I still go past it on my way to the health club and for some time back then Mandelson himself was to be seen there.

GEOFFREY ROBINSON
(To the Tune of “Mrs Robinson”)

CHORUS 1
So here’s to you, Geoffrey Robinson,
Tony loves you more than you will know (wo, wo, wo);
What’s that you say, Geoffrey Robinson?
Havens hold a place for those who pay (hey, hey, hey, hey hey hey).

VERSE 1
We’d like to know a little bit about you for our files,
We’re glad that you have learned to help yourself;
Look around and you will see unsympathetic eyes,
In the treasury, where you feel so at home.

CHORUS 2
What’s in your past, Geoffrey Robinson?
Madam Bourgeois loved you as we know (ho, ho, ho);
Down on your knees, Geoffrey Robinson,
God knows what you’ve licked to earn your pay (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).

VERSE 2
Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes,
Stuck away in Guernsey in your trust funds;
It’s a little secret, just the Robinson’s affair,
Most of all you’ve got to hide it from the press

CHORUS 3
Coo coo catchoo, Geoffrey Robinson,
Money sticks to you as we all know (wo, wo, wo);
Rolling in cash, Geoffrey Robinson,
Vested offshore in a tax free way (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).

VERSE 3
Sitting in your mansion on a Sunday afternoon,
Going to the conference debate;
Laugh about it, shout about it, when loop holes are lax,
Only little people need pay tax.

OUTRO
You’re not quite like John deLorean,
At least he built a factory or two (woo, woo, woo);
We’ve news for you, Geoffrey Robinson,
Gordon Brown has ways to make you pay (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).

I also wrote an update of this one 22 December 1998:

GEOFFREY ROBINSON VERSION 2
(To the Tune of “Mrs Robinson”)

CHORUS 1
So here’s to you, Geoffrey Robinson,
Tony loves you more than you will know (wo, wo, wo);
What’s that you say, Geoffrey Robinson?
Havens hold a place for those who pay (hey, hey, hey, hey hey hey).

VERSE 1
We’d like to know a little bit about you for our files,
We’re glad that you have learned to help yourself;
Look around and you will see unsympathetic eyes,
In the treasury, where you feel so at home.

CHORUS 2
What’s in your past, Geoffrey Robinson?
Madam Bourgeois loved you as we know (ho, ho, ho);
Down on your knees, Geoffrey Robinson,
God knows what you’ve licked to earn your pay (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).

VERSE 2
Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes,
Stuck away in Guernsey in your trust funds;
It’s a little secret, just the Robinson’s affair,
Most of all you’ve got to hide it from the press

CHORUS 3
Coo coo catchoo, Geoffrey Robinson,
Money sticks to you as we all know (wo, wo, wo);
Rolling in cash, Geoffrey Robinson,
Vested offshore in a tax free way (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).

VERSE 3
Sitting in your mansion on a Sunday afternoon,
Going to the conference debate;
Laugh about it, shout about it, when loop holes are lax,
Only little people need pay tax.

OUTRO
Who’s your fat friend, Peter Mandelson?
Geoffrey bought a lovely house for you (woo, woo, woo);
It’s just on loan, Peter Mandelson,
Geoffrey will find ways to make you pay (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).

Below is Simon & Garfunkel singing Mrs Robinson:

Click here for the lyrics to Mrs Robinson.

Gaudy Dames, NewsRevue Lyric, 9 January 1998

Mediæval Bæbes was a bit of a thing back then. Janie and I were just starting to take a real interest in early music around that time. I bought their debut album, Salva Nos.

But there was something about this commercialised form of mediæval music that bothered me, so I gave The Bæbes the NewsRevue lyric treatment.

GAUDY DAMES
(To the Tune of “Gaudete”)

CHORUS 1

Gaudy dames, gaudy dames some sing soprano,
We are named Medieval Baebes, gaudy dames;
Gaudy dames, gaudy dames, some sing contralto,
Sensuous poses, low cut drapes, gaudy dames.

VERSE 1

We’re a bunch of choir girls who have shot to stardom;
We’re as pure and virginal as a Turkish harem.

CHORUS 2

Blowsy dames, blowsy dames, who sing in plain chant,
We’re like Spice Girls minus spice, blowsy dames;
Cows may say, cows may say that we’ve had implants,
Torture post-medieval ways, cows may say.

VERSE 2

All of us are Virgin girls signed to Branson’s kingdom;
Hope he makes his duff balloons elsewhere than his condoms.

CHORUS 3

Lousy pay, lousy pay now we are pop stars,
We’re still paid medieval rates, lousy pay;
God may say, God may say we sing like angels,
But its hell to hear us rant, God may say.

VERSE 3

We can all be photographed so we look like lovelies;
Tho’ without a special lens look like teletubbies.

OUTRO

Cow like shapes, cow like shapes, not that you’d notice,
Clever angled camera takes, cow like shapes;
Gawd the strain, gawd the strain stuck in this corset,
Thumb screws would seem like a break, gawd the strain.

Below is a version of Gaudete performed by the Choir of Clare College Cambridge:

Click here for lyrics to the carol Gaudete.

Lunch/Dinner With Michael & Elisabeth Mainelli Plus The Waste Land by T S Eliot, Wilton’s Music Hall, 3 January 1998

We weren’t expecting to see a show that day. Michael and Elisabeth invited us over “for the day” being a bit unspecific about the meal time, but suggesting that we might all take a swim in the pool of their newcapartment block. But, unbeknown to us, their plan was to serve an early meal and then pop out to see Fiona Shaw perform The Waste Land under Deborah Warner’s direction in Wilton’s Music Hall – within spitting distance of Michael and Elisabeth’s new place.

Good plan.

I recorded in my log that the piece was short and OK. I’ve never been over keen on The Waste Land as a piece of poetry. Fiona Shaw is of course marvellous and would probably hold one’s attention if reciting from the telephone directory.

Janie was intrigued by the T S Eliot aspect, as she had treated and continued to treat Valerie Eliot for many years.

Most interesting about the evening was seeing Wilton’s Music Hall, which had not been used for a performance for over 100 years and looked suitably distressed. I’m not sure that the health and safety brigade would today allow a performance in a place quite so distressed, but it was great to see it at that time. It has since been somewhat more revived.

Lyn Gardner warmed to the whole idea in The Guardian:

Waste Land Guardian Gardner Waste Land Guardian Gardner 16 Dec 1997, Tue The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

In the Standard, Robin Stringer reviewed the place with Nicholas de Jongh reviewed the show:

Wilton's Waste Land Standard Stringer de Jongh Wilton’s Waste Land Standard Stringer de Jongh 15 Dec 1997, Mon Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Charles Spencer in the Telegraph predictably preferred the poem to the place and grudgingly paid homage to Fiona Shaw:

Waste Land Telegraph SpencerWaste Land Telegraph Spencer 16 Dec 1997, Tue The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

David Benedict waxed lyrical about the whole thing in The Independent:

Waste Land Indy BenedictWaste Land Indy Benedict 13 Dec 1997, Sat The Independent (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

A very memorable day and evening from our point of view.