Three Days In Manchester For Cricket And Tennis, 16 To 18 September 2019

Let’s be honest about this. Lancashire were already guaranteed promotion and Middlesex were already guaranteed to have missed out on promotion this year before I set off on this trip.

Lesser folk might have bailed out.

Not me. Nor Dumbo, The Suzuki Jimny.

Off we went, at about 7:30 on the Monday morning, arriving at Old Trafford around 11:30 after but one pit stop.

The main car parks were full, so Dumbo had to spend the day at the back of the largest temporary stand in Europe, still there after the Ashes test but decommissioned for this county match.

I then head off to the 1864 Suite to join the other green-bookers – very few from either county that day as it happens – perhaps because this day would have been Day Five of the Oval test, had it not ended in four days.

Splendid hospitality as always, not least from Keith Hayhurst.

I thought Middlesex bowled pretty well on a moderately responsive pitch – although I didn’t witness the first hour, new ball, bowling. But then Middlesex’s day one batting. Oy!

Here is a link to the scorecard for the whole match.

One Middlesex green-booker was so ashamed at the end of day one, he removed his Middlesex tie as he left…to walk the 20-30 yards to the Old Trafford on-campus hotel.

Me? I’d arranged a salubrious AirB’n’B at Stretford/Old Trafford borders:

“You have reached your destination…”
Ah, the other side of the road; a bit better I suppose.

Tuesday was another fine weather day. Dumbo and I rode out to the Manchester Tennis and Racquets Club – see Ogblog reports passim, e.g.:

Two Nights In Manchester, 12 to 14 March 2019

A session with Darren Long – very helpful in learning to aim at the tambour with my right arm from the service end and also how to respond to such a shot off the tambour with my left arm from the hazard end. This paragraph must mean a lot of nothing to those readers who are not real tennis aficionados, I do realise.

Rackets Court at Manchester – never tried it
Real tennis court resplendent in the early morning light

After showering and changing, back to my digs to drop off Dumbo and then a 10 minute stroll to Old Trafford, to witness Middlesex score the highest ever 1st class score (anywhere by any team) after being 6-down for less than 40. Some comfort I suppose.

To add to my improving mood, I met Clive Lloyd along with Jack Simmons (the latter Janie and I had met at Southport); it’s always a big deal for me to meet one of my childhood cricketing heroes.

Then a chance to wander around the ground and chat with some of the Middlesex regulars.

After stumps, time to go home and freshen up before heading off to the Chorlton Tap to meet Alex (as planned) plus Sam (as arranged the day before) and Steve (who joined the party that very day). A very convivial gathering.

Wednesday morning, back to the tennis court, for an ill-fated match up with a big hitter named Jonathan. My injured right arm had reacted somewhat adversely to the drills the day before and I felt the overuse within 5-10 minutes. Fortunately he is a very friendly, nice chap so we had a good run-around with me playing left-handed off a high handicap and him getting the chance to practice his winners a lot. I donated my Thursday morning court to Jonathan which I thought was the least I could do to compensate him and the chap (a good friend and match for Jonathan) who had arranged an early slot, purportedly for me.

Good cricket on Wednesday, not least a decent second new ball spell late in the day that set up a good position for Middlesex overnight, subject to our boys batting decently Thursday (they didn’t).

A quite evening in with Benji the Baritone Ukulele again Wednesday (did I omit to mention Benji as Monday evening entertainment too)?

Image from Brighton a few years back

Thursday morning – with no tennis I made an early start back to London – dropping off stuff at the house and then passing through the flat on the way to the City for some work and a London Cricket Trust Trustees meeting.

Truth And Reconciliation 55 Years After A Dastardly Custardy Battle: Guest Piece By Garry Steel

I keep in touch with many people through Facebook these days; cousins Garry & Janice Steel being no exception. They are the Essex branch of my extended cousinhood:

Canvey Island, Leigh-On-Sea, Westcliffe & Southend to See Garry & Janice Steel, 3 October 2015

Point is; Garry wrote a very touching reminiscence piece on Facebook the other day, which is very much in keeping with Ogblog. I asked him if I might publish it as a guest piece here. Garry said yes.

I have played fast and loose with the headline above (publisher’s prerogative) but the words below are reproduced verbatim. I think it is a lovely piece.

My 100 Year Old Dinner Lady
======================

It can be uncanny how a chance meeting, in my case acrimonious tussle with authority, can lead to a lifetime connection and create a dear friendship.

I go back to a day in 1964; I was a 7 year old schoolboy at Hamlet Court Road primary, long since replaced by a car park. On this day, mum decided I was to stay for school dinner.

For those of us over the age of 50, maybe younger, there is no need to describe the culinary obscenities of school meals in the 60’s. Needless to say, they wouldn’t meet Jamie Oliver’s standards.

Having managed to keep the main course down I returned to the hatch for dessert. Since infancy I have had a medical intolerance to milk. I asked the server to omit the regulation portion of thick-skinned custard but was told the serving was mandatory. All diners had to eat it without option to decline. Shock, horror. Was I about to project the custard?!

Here comes the dinner lady from hell. I was not allowed to leave the dining hall until I had consumed that congealed mass in the bowl. Just me and her left in the hall. The other few hundred or so kids had already returned to class. Ms dinner lady accompanied me to my classroom, bowl in hand. Strict instruction was given to my teacher. “He is not allowed home until he eats his custard”.

Come 4pm, just me and the teacher, staring at this solidified mass in the bowl on the desk. I didn’t give in.

Here’s a thing; mum had been waiting for me at the gate since half past three. No one told her I’d been held “prisoner”. Eventually there was a door slam and in comes mum faster than an Exocet missile. Her arm was cocked ready to give me a thick ear, or worse and I was willing to take the pain rather than eat that custard.

Thankfully, mum noticed the plate on the desk before making contact. She quickly put 2 + 2 together. I can’t repeat the language directed at the teacher. Let’s say I had the last laugh. I never met Ms dinner lady at school again.

Move on fourteen years. Janice and I got engaged and her parents threw a party for us. Mum-in-law beckoned me over. “Let me introduce you to my best friend, Alice Fraser”. (Got it yet?)

Arghhhh……There she was, Ms dinner lady. Our eyes locked. Despite the transition from boy to man of 21, she instantly recognised me and vice versa. “You forced me to eat custard”, I said. She retorted, “it wasn’t me, the headmaster made me do it.”

We had a laugh. I got to meet Alice and her husband Ralph many times over the years. They came to my wedding and many family events. I realised Alice was a sweet, intelligent lady.

Sadly my in-laws have passed, The Frasers retired and moved to London to be near their children. Alice has kept in touch by phone many times and continues to do so. She is compassionate and her tone conveys genuine interest in our wellbeing. On the last call she mentioned to me that she had a birthday coming up. “Guess how old I’m going to be”, she said. I thought it had to be an amazing achievement but feigned my reply. “You must be in your eighties now”. “I’m going to be A-hun-dreddd”, she said. “Wow, can I come and see you?” “Oh, I’d love that”, she said.

A few days later an official invitation arrived from Alice’s sprightly young septuagenarian daughter inviting us to Alice’s 100th birthday party. Janice and I went last Sunday. Ralph has passed on but it was an honour to meet up with Alice again. Also to meet her extended family including eleven great grandchildren.

And what did she say to Janice? “He’s never forgiven me for that custard”! Oh yes I have.

But was there custard with the pudding at Garry & Janice’s wedding? I cannot remember, but I’m guessing not.
Me (furthest left), Carol (Janice’s sister, front left) and several others at Garry & Janice’s (most probably custard-free) wedding

Total Immediate Collective Imminent Terrestrial Salvation by Tim Crouch, Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, 14 September 2019

This is a fascinating and original piece of theatre.

The audience sits in a circle. Each member of the audience receives a book, which we are taken through as the performance goes on. At some stages of the performance, audience members are asked to read lines or passages of text.

If it sounds weird, that’s because it is weird. But it is a play; the performances are excellent and memorable.

The Royal Court’s resource on this play/production can be found here.

Tim Crouch

Tim Crouch is an interesting playwright and performer. We have seen his work before; Adler & Gibb which we really liked, plus The Author which we found impenetrable.

This evening’s short (70 minute) piece was not impenetrable but you did need to interpret pictures form the book as well as the words to get the gist of the story. I enjoyed that part of the process more than Janie did.

I was also quite comfortable reading out loud a bit, which I did, while Janie scrupulously avoided eye contact with the performers to be sure that she wasn’t picked for reading out loud.

I am glad that I bought a copy of the book – which is available in paperback to buy – not the hardbacks lent out for performance – because the illustrations as well as the words are a pleasure to look at again and again.

The reviews, from Edinburgh a few weeks earlier and subsequently The Royal Court have deservedly been very good – click here to find them.

Unusual and well worth seeing.

To Cap Off The 2019 Cricket Season…Middlesex v Durham At Lord’s 10 and 12 September 2019

Actually the story of this one starts a few weeks earlier; the Friday of the Lord’s test between England and Australia. 16 August. A rather wet day as it turned out.

Charley “The Gent” Malloy was my guest that day; our last visit to the Compton Stand prior to its demolition. In fact we got less than two hours of cricket before the rain came…then came and went for a while…then the rain came and made sure that those of us who had stuck it out for a while knew that it was time to go home.

In our rush to flee the mid August rain, Charley’s old faithful Heavy Rollers cap ended up in my bag.

We corresponded on the matter and I promised to put the cap in my “Lord’s bag” ahead of our next meeting; this 10 September date.

But come the morning of 10 September:

  • I was rushing around like a mad thing getting the picnic ready;
  • Life had intervened on countless matters to make “Charley’s cap” a little lower on my memory list than certain other things;
  • The weather forecast said that the day would be cloudy and possibly even a bit nippy.

So when the time came to load up the bags, I thought I could safely offload stuff I wouldn’t need, such as sun screen, sun glasses and what on earth did I need three caps for…one Middlesex cap might even be one to many but I’d retain just that one.

In short, I clean forgot that the Heavy Rollers cap in the bag was Chas’s, promised for return.

To add insult to injury, the morning turned out to be a gloriously sunny one, quite contrary to the weather forecast, rendering several of the rejected items desired items and naturally inducing Chas to enquire about his cap quite early in the day.

Neither of us bathed ourselves in glory during the ensuing post mortem.

Chas was bowling metaphorical googlies at me while I tried to maintain order

Chas was convinced that I was only teasing him and that I really did have the cap with me. I tried to get Chas to share the blame for the mistake, by suggesting that, if it really mattered that much to him, Chas might have sent me a reminder…

…we declared a truce, ironically after seeing Tom Helm receive his county cap, ahead of a lunchtime perambulation on a glorious early autumn day.

Chas, uncapped

Chas’s disposition continued to improve in the Warner, after perambulation, as we tucked in to the picnic of Alaskan salmon bagels, London sour sandwiches containing chicken with elderberry, lovage and lemon stuffing and a bottle of rather juicy Gewurtztraminer.

Middlesex bowled well to extinguish Durham for a modest score and then batted poorly to end the day behind the game.

I did offer Chas the opportunity to stop off at Clanricarde Gardens to collect his precious cap on the way home, which in many ways makes sense from Chas’s ease of journey home point of view. So that’s what we did at the end of a really enjoyable day at the cricket.

Next day selfie with old-style Heavy Rollers cap…MY Heavy Rollers cap

We did completely forget about the packet of madeleines, which Chas had brought to Lord’s on 16 August and I had brought back on 10 September, not least because such cakes formed the centre-piece of my King Cricket report the last time we saw Middlesex v Durham together in very similar circumstances:

An End Of Season Visit To Lord’s With Charley The Gent, Middlesex v Durham, 9 September 2014

Anyway, fear not. I got a message from Durham fanatic Madz, otherwise known as 668, also otherwise known as Blackbird…wondering if I’d be around in the pavilion on Thursday for the climax of this match. She was planning on meeting up with some of the Durham regulars there.

As it happened, my meetings/scheduled calls all concertinaed into Wednesday enabling me to do that.

I assumed that Madz stands for Madeleine and thought that she might be amused by eponymous cakes as a peace offering. Which, in a way, she was.

Anyway, it took until just before lunch for Madz to find her way to the pavilion by which time I’d made almost no headway with my reading as I’d been chatting with a fine fellow in the writing room.

By the time I found Madz, she was sitting with a gentleman named Pelham who seemed astonished that I’d head of Pelham Humfrey as well as Pelham Warner. Even more astonished when I said that I’d witnessed some Pelham Humfrey recently:

Music From The Chapel Royal With Excerpts From Pepys’ Diary, Wigmore Hall, 17 April 2019

Madz quizzed me about the nicknames Ged and Daisy for me and Janie, suggesting that it was all a bit confusing. I omitted to mention that Madz or do I mean 668 or do I mean Blackbird has (or at least had) plenty of on-line names of her own.

We half-agreed to regroup for the denouement after lunch, but by the time I’d taken some sun and finished reading my papers for tomorrow’s meeting, Middlesex had fallen apart yet again and crashed to defeat.

Here’s the scorecard – Middlesex fans look away now.

I walked home in glorious sunshine to find England in a relatively good position in the Oval test match…until they too collapsed before my eyes losing five wickets for diddly-squat on a flatty.

Perhaps I should give up watching my teams play cricket…until tomorrow.

Farewell Then, Compton & Edrich; An Absence Of Nostalgia, 10 September 2019

The Compton & Edrich stands looked very sad in their half demolished state today.

I asked Charley “The Gent” Malloy and several other friends and acquaintances if they felt sad to see them go. We pretty much agreed that we didn’t. Not the best designed stands. Time to move on.

Still, the sight of it (or do I mean site of it?) brought on three particular memories I’d like to share.

  1. The very first time I visited Lord’s, in 1996.
My First Visit To Lord’s, England v Pakistan Day Two, 26 July 1996

2. The day Michael Mainelli & I sweated in the Compton over Nick Compton’s maiden ton

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

3. The day Big Jeff and I caused a “litter stopped play” incident from the Compton in 2006

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

So many happy memories from those stands in fact. But nostalgia for the stands themselves? Getaway!

Amsterdam by Maya Arad Yasur, Orange Tree Theatre, 7 September 2019

Amsterdam - Keizersgracht 387
Amsterdam – Keizersgracht
Click picture for attribution and link

Gosh, this was a truly fascinating short play at the Orange Tree – our first venture to see a play for some while and a great start, from our point of view, to our autumn season at the theatre. We were seeing a preview.

The Orange Tree Theatre’s blurb on this piece can be found by clicking here.

This is not a naturalistic piece. The cast of four narrate the piece, about an unnamed Israeli violinist who is 9 months pregnant living in an apartment in Amsterdam, on the Keizersgracht (one of the canal-side streets).

Are we merely being taken on a voyage through the violinists own febrile, paranoid imaginings or is this a thriller about the uncovering of secrets from Amsterdam’s era of Nazi occupation or are we witnessing a strange brew, mixing those things?

Janie would have preferred some more answers by the end of it, whereas I thought this 80 minute piece was very deliberately leaving a trail of enigmas and unanswerable questions, while at the same time keeping us entertained and weaving sufficient plot lines to tell a story.

All four cast members were excellent; we’d seen Fiston Barek and Hara Yannas recently at the Orange Tree. Daniel Abelson and Michal Horowicz were also strong.

We’d also seen director Matthew Xia’s work at the Orange Tree recently. The style is a bit “workshoppy”, but I think that is the nature of the play and it is hard to imagine how the piece might work in a more stagey syle.

But the greatest plaudits from me go to the writing. I have now read and seen one heck of a lot of plays, so it is rare now to find a writer’s voice so novel and pleasing. For sure I will look out for Maya Arad Yasur’s work again.

Did Janie and I decompress/discuss at length over Spanish food at Don Fernando’s this time? Of course we did.

Did we get home in time to see Bianca Andreescu beat Serena Williams at Flushing? Yes, but only because Bianca kindly lost 4 games in a row (including a championship point) to keep the match alive long enough for us to get home and see the last two games.

Did we play tennis the next morning as usual and then go on to Gunnersbury Museum to see some aspects of BEAT? Yes, yes.

Anyway, returning to the subject of Amsterdam at The Orange Tree; it’s running until 12 October 2019 and we would thoroughly recommend it to anyone who likes imaginative, modern drama.

Reviews for this production, if/when they come, might be found here.

Taking Positives, Mostly Nottinghamshire v Middlesex, T20 Quarter Final, Trent Bridge, 5 September 2019

Trent Bridge looked an absolute picture under lights

Regular Ogblog readers sometimes comment on the relentlessly positive light Ogblog sheds on life.

Some days make that task a little difficult. Take this day, for example. On the face of it, the focal point of the day was a trip to Nottingham and back to see my beloved Middlesex team being utterly thrashed in a quarter final cup tie. Soon after we set off for Nottingham, Janie called me to tell me she’d had her purse snatched with some cash and all of her credit cards stolen/ransacked. Meanwhile and throughout the day, England were having a pretty rotten second day in the Old Trafford Ashes test; a match England cannot lose if it is to retain hope of regaining the Ashes.

So, how do I take positives from such a day? I’ll try to draw up a list.

  • I played a good 90 minutes of real tennis doubles ahead of setting off for Nottingham. Unlike the day of Middlesex’s previous ill-fated quarter-final three years ago, I didn’t injure myself playing – in fact it was a very good game;
  • Also unlike last time, I didn’t need to drive to the match – Middlesex organised a coach trip for this fixture, which spared me a longer drive than I fancied and at least meant that I was in good company throughout the day;
  • We got to Trent Bridge some two hours ahead of the match. We strolled around that lovely ground making a close to full circuit (part outside, part inside) to our Radcliffe Road end hospitality. On the way, I met Mark Butcher and Rob Key who were kicking their heels prior to their commentary duties. King Cricket aficionados will be especially excited about the Rob Key encounter, I suspect;
  • The Trent Bridge hospitality was superb, as always. Several familiar Nottinghamshire faces and quite a substantial contingent from Middlesex. I met new Middlesex board member Edward Lord for the first time and Marilyn Smith, whom Janie and I met at Hove and whose son Ramon used to play tennis as an infant at Boston Manor, brought “little Ramon” with her, which showed that “little Ramon” ain’t so little any more. I had very enjoyable chats with all those people and plenty of others;
  • Clive Radley went back to the coach early, once the result was no longer in doubt, to finish off reading his book, which was about Auschwitz. As Clive and I agreed, that rather puts the idea of “having a bad day” into perspective;
  • Did I mention that Trent Bridge, which looks a picture at all times, looks especially so under lights? Worth saying and depicting again.

My Name Is Why, A Memoir, In Conversation With Lemn Sissay, Royal Court Theatre, 3 September 2019

Lemn Sissay hopemas xmas partyeventful-org-uk low 18 (5273390039)
Lemn Sissay – from Wikipedia Commons – click pic for attribution

This sounded like a fascinating true story – which it is. Celebrated poet and dramatist, Lemn Sissay, spent his formative years as a foster child and in care where he experienced almost-unimaginable emotional cruelty and neglect.

He has spent much of his adult life working to uncover his true identity (he is of Ethiopian descent), together with a quest to understand his origins and unusually bleak early life.

The problem Janie and I had with this event – a cross between a book launch and a rehearsed reading and an interview – here is a link to the Royal Court blurb – was the sycophantic nature of the audience. The audience/atmosphere encouraged Sissay to freewheel and jump around through his material so much that it was difficult to get to the nub of many of the excellent points he was trying to make.

It didn’t help when his lectern collapsed right at the start. Miranda Sawyer as Chair didn’t really help either as she, bless her, was almost as “all over the place” with the buzz of the fans as was Lemn Sissay.

The nadir came during the limited time for questions at the end, when a friend of Lemn Sissay’s took up a question slot in order to blurt out that she loved him. Even Lemn responded to that one by saying to her, “why don’t you just give me a call to tell me that” and Miranda said, “that’s a comment, can someone else please ask a question?”

Actually the questions were quite good and did help to cover many of the gaps from the preceding hour.

If you want to learn as much about this fascinating book/story in 10 minutes as we learnt in the 90 minute sycophant-fest event, then I highly commend this Guardian article/book review published a few days earlier – click here.

Are we glad we went? On balance, yes. Lemn Sissay is an engaging personality and he has such a troubling-but-interesting story to tell. I’d really like to have a quiet chat with him one day; I suspect he comes across better when he doesn’t have a mob of fans to please.

Dinner At Kitty Fisher’s With John And Mandy, 28 August 2019

Not content with the excitement of witnessing Simon Jacobs Live Gig at the Notting Hill Arts Club the night before:

Simon Jacobs Live Gig, Notting Hill Arts Club, 27 August 2019

Janie and I had another big night out the next day; a double-birthday celebration with John and Mandy at Kitty Fisher’s.

Janie likes restaurants where you can see the kitchens
Nibbly starters

John and Mandy had enjoyed a day out in London ahead of our dinner, so were able to tell us about that and about the kids.

We don’t have to tell them any of our news, obviously, because it is all there to be seen on Ogblog. Yet still we did tell them our news too.

Meaty main courses and crispy potatoes that aren’t chips, apparently

The food was excellent, the service lively and unpretentious. We really liked this place.

On learning that it was a double birthday, the restaurant managed a mercifully low key way of helping us to celebrate:

John and Mandy very kindly bought me a small gift while enjoying their day out earlier in the day – we don’t normally do presents – requesting photographs of the celebratory footwear.

We’d all really enjoyed our evening, as evidenced (if evidence were needed) by the exchange of messages the next day.

Meanwhile, Janie and I took great pleasure in taking and posing (respectively) for those photos early the next morning:

“Sock it to me, sock it to me, sock it to me, sock it to me…”
“Sock Long Marianne…”

Simon Jacobs Live Gig, Notting Hill Arts Club, 27 August 2019

It was jolly decent of Simon to arrange this gig to take place just across the road from Clanricarde Gardens, I thought. Janie and I both made sure we’d be free that evening to support.

Notting Hill Arts Club has had a bit of a makeover since we last attended a gig there, which must be 10-15 years ago.

The main purpose of the gig was to launch Simon’s second album, Baby Boomer, available on Spotify – click here – or on YouTube – click the picture link below.

Simon has used a fascinating technique to overcome the problem of the “troublesome second album following a successful first album”…

…he and his (self)-publicist have deemed the first album to have been a flop. Fiendish. Cunning. Daft. The following “interview” explains:

Anyway, despite all that John Shuttleworth meets Spinal Tap buffoonery, the album Baby Boomer really is very good and I think a big leap forward from the first album, Circle Line, which I also liked, btw.

At the start of the gig, Simon performed alone. In fact, the introduction and first number have been recorded for posterity – you can view those below:

Janie rapt with attention
One of Simon’s sisters, Ruth, shooting the video

After a couple of numbers performed solo, or should I say, “accompanied by laptop”, Simon was joined by a real human being, Nick, on drums.

Timothy, Simon’s husband, rapt with attention.

It all got a bit more complicated when Simon attempted the opening track from the album, Please Hold, with laptop, keyboards, drummer and vocals…

…but after calling back a couple of times, Simon managed to perform that rather intricate piece with aplomb. One of my favourites from the album, that one – it reminds me a little of The Teardrop Explodes at the top of their form – praise indeed coming from me.

Here’s another track from the live performance:

Finally, here is the official video for one of my favourite tracks from the album, Optimistic…

…although, as Simon said when he introduced this number at the gig, he’s a bit less optimistic now than he was when he wrote that track.

Another story.

Actually, in his quest to remain uber-topical, Simon did perform one or two brand new songs. They are, presumably, to form part of the third album and the resulting next launch gig. Janie and I hope so – we are already looking forward to that. We very much enjoyed our evening for the Baby Boomer launch.

A convivial moment of chat after the gig

Did I mention that Baby Boomer is available on Spotify – click here – or on YouTube – click the picture link below?