Allow me to transcribe this diary entry as best I can. The verb pertaining to my father’s insurance claim I think reads, “blagged” but I might be mistaken:
Saw Prudential Cup. England Won. Old 51 not out. Dad blagged from insurance got two films: Jerry & the Goldfish, and Dr Jekyll & Mr Mouse
“Prudential Cup” that day was actually the very first match in the tournament that later became known as the cricket world cup, so I am rather glad to realise that i really have been following that tournament since the very beginning.
A strange match to say the least. Look at the scorecard:
England’s score looks normal by modern standards, but 334/4 was a monster score in a one day match back then. My excitement about Chris Old’s performance was due to the fact that he was one of my favourite players, because he was from the Yorkshire team that I met when I was seven…
…therefore Chris Old was, to all intents and purposes, my friend. My friend scored 51 runs in 30 balls which was, in those days, a very unusual and exciting run rate.
In response, India crawled to 132/3, with Sunny Gavaskar responding to England’s huge total with what I can only imagine was an act of passive resistance: 36 runs in 174 balls.
I doubt if I saw the whole match through.
More likely, I was captivated by the Tom & Jerry cartoons dad brought home from the shop for me.
Dad’s shop.
His shop window had suffered some serious water damage, with much stock completely written off, but those two Tom & Jerry cartoons (Standard 8) had damaged boxes but the film inside was salvagible.
Dad, being dad, asked the insurance man if it would be alright to hand the unsellable but still useable items to his son. the insurance man probably nearly fainted (or could hardly control his laughter) at being asked such a question and kindly acquiesced to dad’s modest request.
Dad told me that he had persuaded the insurance man to let me have the films and I was most impressed by dad’s negotiating skills.
I loved those films and watched them over and over.
I strongly suspect that dad got home before Sunny Gavaskar’s crease protest was over and that I abandoned the cricket match for the cartoons. The diary is silent on that aspect.
Here is the Jerry & the Goldfish, thanks to The Daily Motion:
And here is Dr Jekyll & Mr Mouse, also from The Daily Motion:
I witnessed the very start of world cup cricket from the comfort of our family living room in Woodfield Avenue.
How do I know? Because my diary says so.
It’s just possible that you cannot read the first two lines of the 7 June 1975 diary entry – allow me to help:
Saw Prudential Cup. England won, Old 51 not out.
I described the match as Prudential Cup, not Cricket World Cup. David Kendix – Middlesex CCC treasurer, international cricket scorer, ICC guru on rankings/statistical stuff and “Man From The Pru” would no doubt approve.
At that time, the tournament was not being promoted as, nor (as I understand it) was there an express intention to initiate, a regular cricket world cup. It was simply billed as an eight team international one-day cricket tournament, sponsored by Prudential, to help fill the scheduling gap created by South Africa’s apartheid-induced suspension from international sport.
But in my mind at the time it most certainly was a world cup and I remember being absolutely captivated by it. I’ll write more in subsequent pieces about how that captivation manifested itself in me over that summer of 1975. This article will focus only on that very first day.
My diary comments on the score are quite interesting, more for what they omit than for what they say. True, England won the match. True, Chris Old scored 51 not out.
I did not remark on Dennis Amiss scoring a magnificent 137 – perhaps in honour of my favourite bus route at the time; the route from our house to Grandma Jenny’s flat.
Nor did I remark upon the England team score of 334/4, which was a very high score in those days, albeit in 60 overs rather than the now-standard 50.
Even more remarkable, but absent from my comments, was the paltry India score in reply, 132/3 in 60 overs, with Sunil Gavaskar on the mother of all go slows, scoring 36 not out in 174 balls. He must have decided that India stood no chance and he would have a bit of batting practice instead.
Below is a highlights reel from that match, upon which you will hear the voices of Richie Benaud and Jim Laker:
But also, to be fair on myself, I was probably awestruck by my childhood hero Chris Old’s batting at the end of that one day innings – you didn’t see anyone score 51 runs in 30 balls in those days – it is commonplace now.
The rest of my diary entry for that day relates to something completely different:
Dad heard from insurance – got two films -Jerry and the Goldfish, Dr Jekyll and Mr Mouse
There had been a flood at dad’s shop and a fair chunk of stock got damaged; some beyond use, some beyond looking merchantable. I had helped dad clear up the place and my reward was to be some damaged stock that might still be useable. It turned out that these two Standard 8mm Tom and Jerry cartoon films were that reward.
If I recall correctly, both films were more than a little water-marked and also subject to snagging in the movie projector, so I don’t think I watched them all that much. No wonder the insurance company’s loss adjuster told dad that he could scrap them.
I wonder whether dad’s commercial insurance was with Prudential back then? Weird coincidence if it was.
Anyway, we can all watch those animated movies now, easily, on YouTube:
I somehow remained in the Lower School Orchestra that season, despite having shown no aptitude whatsoever for playing the violin, even though the violin was “the family instrument” on my mother’s side.
My mother’s pain at my musical ineptitude was exacerbated by the cruel fact that Andy Levinson, from our street, showed some real talent for the violin. How could that be fair? The Levinsons were a medical family. Andy should have been fiddling around with medical instruments, not literally fiddling with far more musical instrument success than Ian, who was, after all, trying his very best.
Me switching to the viola for a while didn’t help. For the March 1975 concert, I was consigned to the second violins, ensuring that I had a little less to do, thus causing minimal disruption to the overall sound of the orchestra.
“There are other options, little Ian. Have you considered viols, viola da gamba…”
Anyway, all of the above is context…as is the fact that my mum was still grumpy and still hobbling around the place in mid to late March, I think with walking sticks rather than crutches by then, having had her hip replaced in mid February.
Here’s the diary:
Here’s a transliteration of that diary page.
Sunday, 16 March 1975 classes good. Feld’s lunch. Came home with Grandma Anne. Kalooki 2p up. TV Golden Shot.
Monday, 17 March 1975 – Fives good. Prepared for Tuesday. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones, Goodies/Rolf Harris.
Tuesday, 18 March 1975 – first day of concert. In my opinion a big flop. TV Flintstones (Rock Quarry)
I’ll return shortly to the question of whether or not the concert was a big flop.
Meanwhile, and far more interestingly, for some reason I thought it important to note the name of the Flintstones episode I enjoyed that same day. This meant that, 50 years later, I could track that episode down and include it in Ogblog. I might have had five thumbs back then but clearly I also had forethought.
Wednesday, 19 March 1975 – concert went well this evening. Watched Trial By Jury. Mr. Tindale very good indeed.
“It’s hard to tell how the concert went from these conflicting reviews, but the judgement on Mr Tindale as the judge is very clear”, Tindale J.
Thursday, 20 March 1975 – some good results. Classes good. TV Man About The House, Dave Allen.
Friday, 21 March 1975 – concert went well. TV Porridge, MASH.
Saturday, 22 March 1975 – went to 1st soccer match Chelsea V Middlesbrough. Concert, mum & dad, Trial By Jury.
I have written up my first ever visit to a football match – a visit to Stamford Bridge, previously – click here or below:
But had the concert been any good or not? We need evidence. Below is an extract from Mr Kingman’s Scribblerus review of the entire event, mostly covering the Psalm 150 bit which was the bit in which I participated.
If you are aching to read the entire review, including the review of Trevor Tindale’s performance in Trial By Jury, click here for a pdf of the full page.
Sunday. 23 March 1975 – classes mock Seder. Recorded Psalm 150 and me. Took up most of the afternoon and evening.
Good gracious! Is it possible that the recording of me & Psalm 150 has survived these 50 years? Of course it is more than possible.
Firstly, my rather lengthy intro, which is also a supplement to my diary notes, I suppose:
Then the five minute concert piece recording that apparently took much of the day. Arguably, that was not time especially well spent. Had I spent more hours learning my instrument than twiddling knobs on the tape recorder, who knows how my playing might have sounded. As it is, you need a trigger warning, only click if you have robust hearing and a broad mind:
Mercifully, that is the only known recording of my attempts with the violin.
My final recollection from the concert is my mother’s comment, in the form of a question, after my performance:
Why was your bow going up at the same time as everyone else’s coming down…and coming down while everyone else’s was going up?
I stumbled across this page of my juvenile diary in July 2018, while searching for something completely different.
For those viewers of this page with reading difficulties – which, in the context of my handwriting, means “everyone, even to some extent me” – the Saturday entry reads:
went to first soccer match – Chelsea v Midsbro concert mum & dad Trial by Jury
I’ll write a seperate piece about that little concert series quite soon, but the only element of the concert business that affects this blog post is the strange juxtaposition of spending Saturday afternoon at Stamford Bridge, then traversing London to play in an Alleyn’s School concert early that evening.
I’m struggling to recall what happened, but my only memories of going to Stamford Bridge include Andy Levinson, who was keen on Chelsea (at least he was at that time). I do have a memory of going up to Stamford Bridge with Andy on the bus and watching a match, but I think that must have been some time after this first one.
I do recall that Andy was also involved in that lower school concert. More on that anon.
But in any case, I find it hard – almost impossible – to believe that our parents would have allowed us find our own way to a football match and then make our own way from Stamford Bridge to Alleyn’s School to play in that concert. I have a funny feeling that Norman Levinson (Andy’s dad) might have taken us to that first football match and chauffeured us from Chelsea to Dulwich after the match, while my parents probably took Marjory (Andy’s mum) from Woodfield Avenue to the concert.
Andy and I were pretty independent 12-year olds…but I don’t think we’d have been allowed to be quite THAT independent in March 1975. I hope Andy has better recollection of what happened than me. If Andy does chime in, naturally I’ll add his resultant thoughts to this piece.
Of course, the internet allows me to find out everything I could possibly want to know about the match in question and more besides.
I was delighted to discover that the Chelsea team that day included Ron “Chopper” Harris… click here to see Ron Harris...whose name (and association with mine) had coincidentally come up in conversation during the MCC v HAC tennis match only a few days before I made this diary discovery.
Other names that leap out of that team sheet page at me are John Hollins, Ray Wilkins, Jim Platt and Graeme Souness. But perhaps several others are hugely famous and I am simply showing my profound lack of football knowledge.
The result wouldn’t have pleased Andy; nor me I suppose, with Middlesbrough prevailing 2-1. Younger readers who might mistakenly think that “League Division One” is something quite lowly should rest assured that the division named thus in those days was the very top, crème de la crème, division.
Most of the football I saw at that age was at White Hart Lane, where Stanley Benjamin would sometimes take me (and Andy too on occasion) if some members of Stanley’s family were away and thus he had one or more season tickets to spare.
But this very first one…if Andy’s memory can’t help I suspect the rest of the story is lost for ever in the mists of time.
Postscript
Andy Levinson writes:
What a team they, Chelsea, were! I remember we sat yes in the posh seats. I don’t remember that specific match but I suspect you are absolutely right that we would have been chauffeured there by dad and on to Alleyn’s after as we were both involved in the concert!
I do remember that we were able to get autographs from the players as their only access from their gym pre match was via the public stairwells in the stand and our seats were not far from the gym. Sadly I think I threw away my autograph book that had any of the signatures of the Chelsea team of those “golden years”!
I’m glad that is resolved. I’m also glad that the “partial memory” I had invoked in myself of Norman Levinson sitting with us at the football, gently smoking his pipe while the match played out, must be a genuine one.
I don’t think I joined you in the getting of autographs though, Andy. I always remember somewhat recoiling from doing that and quite early in life resolving not to be an autograph hunter. But it is also possible that, on that occasion, my first, that I joined in and that my “collection” of autographs also failed to make it through time’s relentless journey.
Quite early in this fortnight, my mother emerged from hospital following her hip replacement, grumping at home on crutches during that period. This element gets little mention in my diary after her escape.
Grumpy? Me?
Sunday 2 March 1975 – classes good. Visited mum today [in Kings College Hospital] great improvement – TV Cat Ballou.
Monday 3 March 1975 – mum came out of hospital. Adam’s ribs. TV Smith and Jones, Goodies.
Tuesday 4 March 1975 – classes very good. Kentucky chicken. TV The Great Match.
Wednesday, 5 March 1975 – hockey good. Worked on practical. TV Pioneers of Photography, Worldwide, Rhoda, The Evacuees.
Thursday, 6 March 1975 – classes good. TV The Roman Way, Dave Allen, Controversy.
Friday, 7 March 1975 – uneventful school. Went to Doreen and co [Benjamin family] for dinner. TV Porridge, MASH.
Saturday, 8 March 1975 uneventful. TV Doctor Who, Walt Disney, Pot Black, film: Elephant Walk.
Sunday, 9 March 1975 – classes/parents. Went to Pam and Michael’s fish!?!?!? TV Ice Skating, The Great War, The Golden Shot.
Pam & Michael (my aunt and uncle) a few month’s later
Mum was still temporarily unable to cook and dad was not the cooking type – hence the myriad of take-aways and kind invitations by neighbours and family. I remember that there was something memorable about Auntie Pam’s fish dish that Sunday. Dad’s verdict went beyond colourful punctuation.
Monday 10 March 1975 – fives good. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones, Goodies (goody goody yum yum).
Tuesday 11 March 1975 fives match v Rutlish, Loftus etc. Tea nice. TV McMillan and wife.
Wednesday, 12 March 1975 yet more fives v Henry Thornton. Cookie and me, 89–64 and all – 13 points Tea nice. TV Rhoda/Mary Tyler Moore.
Thursday 13 March 1975 Psalm 150 practice good. TV Man About The House, Taste For Adventure, Dave Allen At Large.
Friday, 14 March 1975 form dito from PE. TV Porridge v good.
Saturday 15 March 1975 exeat, shule, Gabriel’s bar [bar mitzvah?]. TV Doctor Who, Walt Disney, Pop Black.
A lot of fives there, at the start of the week, including two representative matches; the first against Rutlish School, the second against Henry Thornton. I am pretty sure that these matches were both played at home. Hence, the consistent verdict of “tea nice” is surely a big thumbs-up for the Alleyn’s dinner ladies.
I’m sure there are many readers who would like more detail on the contents of that tea. Sadly, my diary is silent on those details. Alan “Cookie” Cooke might remember the vital tea details. I’ll hazard a guess that white bread with butter and jelly-type jam utterly devoid of solid fruit content would have qualified as “nice” in my book, especially if some sort of spongy cake was also involved. Tea would have been served in the buttery, I’m pretty sure.
I remember taking great pride in representing the school at fives and I also remember getting few chances as a junior to do so. I was a bit surprised to see that we played two representative matches in as many days.
I’m not sure what “Loftus” means in the context of the Rutish game, but I suspect we nicknamed one of the Rutish players for his height and I suspect that he and his mates got the better of us, especially as I document in great detail our superior points tally against Henry Thornton.
Cookie – please chime in if you remember anything about these matches. I do recall thinking that we paired well in doubles, both in internal matches and these representative ones.
Trevor Tindale oversaw proceedings and wrote a small paragraph about lower school fives in Scribblerus that year.
I’ll leave it to you, dear reader, to decide whether Trevor was a fine judge of character with regard to my sporting maturity.
In truth my memory of these 50 years ago events is weak. I don’t remember who Gabriel was, on that Saturday; apologies to him.
But I must warn everyone that I not only remember a fair bit about the Psalm 150 “performance”, but the diary, Scribblerus and even my archive of reel-to-reel tapes preserves plenty of…arguably too much…information. To be reported in more detail next time.
DeepAI Imagines The 01 Once Daily Streatham Hill To London Bridge
We had our own special train that took us from Streatham Hill directly to North Dulwich (and then on to London Bridge). A great service for us Alleyn’s kids from Streatham Hill, not needing to change. It was even named/numbered the 01, perhaps in honour of its once a day status.
Of course it was not just for us Alleyn’s kids; there were kids from other schools – Tulse Hill Comp. and William Penn to name but two – on that train too. No self-respecting adults rode on that train as far as I can remember.
In the early days, there were very few of us from Alleyn’s who got on at the start of that run – possibly just me and Andy Levinson. We loved the fact that we could see the train in the siding and that it pulled into the station, seemingly for us.
Andy a couple of years later
Latterly for sure Rupert Jefferies, Justin Sutton and I think one or two others from Alleyn’s joined the train at Streatham Hill, but those guys I think started after the “mugging” described below.
Friday 21 February 1975 – “mugged” on train. TV Sportstown, Rhoda, Porridge and MASH v good.
I remember a fair bit about the incident, although I don’t think I could identify the brace of assailants now. In those days, British Rail had 10×10 person compartment carriages on those suburban trains. Andy and I usually had a compartment to ourselves, but on this occasion we were joined by two larger lads. They seemed well big to us, but we were 12; they might have been 15 or 16.
Hey boys, they shouted, have you got any money…and we said…
…very little. We had very little money. We were schoolboys who had no need for money on a regular school day, so I suspect we had a couple of bob between us. (That’s 10p if younger readers are unfamiliar with the terminology).
We gave them what little we had and then, I remember this so clearly, the assailants sort-of boxed…pretty much just slapped, our ears, perhaps in frustration at the paucity of their haul and/or possibly because our suits betrayed the fact that we were from a posh school.
Ultra-violence it wasn’t, which is why my diary entry used the term “mugged” rather than, for example, MUGGED.
Saturday 22 February 19 75 – TV Doctor Who, Walt Disney. David Aarons – Monopoly, I won. [He] taught me gin rummy.
Two Saturdays in a row my parents must have gone out, two Saturdays in a row David Aarons (one of Lionel & Dina Aarons’s children) came around. Mum and dad must have been fitting in a few socials ahead of mum going in for her hip replacement.
At age 12-and-a-half, I clearly didn’t have it in me to use the term “babysitting” in my diary, but that is what this would have been. David could have only just turned 16 by then. Prior to David, it was quite often one of his big sisters, Ruth or Judith, who would babysit for me. They had probably outgrown that role by then – indeed one of them at least was probably already at University by then. I don’t think the fourth Aarons “kid”, Robert, ever babysat for me.
I remember those sessions with David well. My perception was that he treated me more like a grown up than his sisters. Possibly I WAS quite a bit more grown up with him, or at least a fair bit closer to his age and stage of life. I do remember him teaching me games, although I had quite forgotten that he set me on the road to Gin Rummy. I remember him using some choice phrases that I liked and emulated for a while. I especially liked:
Expletive deleted…
…when indicated a desire to swear but the restraint to avoid doing so. I still use that one occasionally. I was saddened to learn that he died of brain cancer tragically young.
Sunday 23 February 1975 – classes good. Chinese good. Came home after lunch. TV The Great War, Who Do You Do.
Monday 24 February 1975 – went to visit mum in hospital. TV Goodies, Call My Bluff.
Tuesday 25 February 1975 – went to visit mum again. Rather uneventful day. Saw muggers in next door café.
Dad couldn’t cook to save his life, so while mum was in hospital having her hip replacement, we ate almost every night in restaurants and cafes – either in Streatham, Camberwell or somewhere inbetween.
I recall the fact that I spotted the previous week’s assailants in a cafe just a few days later and pointed the fact out to my dad. It was one of those moments when you realise that your dad is not the all-embracing protector that your childhood assumes him to be. I can’t remember exactly what dad said, but it would have been something along the lines of…
…put it out of your mind, son.
It’s possible that he didn’t believe that I had really spotted the right guys. After all, even the police had a lousy reputation for identifying and nailing the right young criminals in such circumstances.But I’m equally sure that dad would have, quite rightly, felt loathe to take on such a situation.
Wednesday 26 February 1975 – went into Uncle Cyril’s cos of operation, went to [Cyril’s] shop, masala yum yum, played chess and I won!
Uncle Cyril in this instance is our next door neighbour Cyril Barnett. This was probably the first time that Cyril and his wife Marion took me in the back of their van up to Chalk Farm to deliver stock to his shop and have a treat at Marine Ices as a reward for helping them.
What would “elf & safety” say about a 12 year old kid rattling around in the back of a van with a whole load of shutters on rails? We could probably have Cyril and Marion taken away in chains for that today, but back then we all rolled with such risks and I rather enjoyed the thrill of those van rides…
Cyril: proof positive that you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs
…and I absolutely loved Marine Ices masala-flavoured ice cream. I fear the place has now gone, so you’ll just have to take my word for it.
Thursday, 27 February 1975 – visited mummy after shop. Dinner, “Adam’s Ribs”. TV The Roman Way, Dave Allen At Large.
”Dinner Adam’s Ribs” is a reference to a segment in MASH, where one of the characters was dreaming about his favourite Chinese spare ribs restaurant, which was named Adam’s Ribs. After visiting mum in Kings College Hospital, Dad and I found a Chinese restaurant in Camberwell where we both thought the spare ribs especially fine, so we declared that they were Adam’s Ribs.
Friday 28 February 1975 – Went to shop. Visited mummy. TV Porridge and MASH..
Saturday 1 March 1975 – Went to Andrew after school. Played snooker. Visited mummy again.
Mum was in hospital for 10 days or so, I think, having her Stanmore inserted.
It is strange sitting writing this article in the clinic, almost 50 years to the day that mum had her hip replaced, having just yesterday had mine replaced. She got 40 years out of hers, I doubt if I’ll need or want 40 years out of mine!
…I have a few more references to Paul Deacon in my early 1975 diary, at least one of which for sure was a recording session.
The relevant passage reads:
19 February 1975: went to Paul Deacon’s house. Played all day. “One sir, humanoid or similar”.
I do remember making that recording. The phrase came from Star Trek and for some reason we latched on to it. I even remember the second section of the phrase: “low level of activity”.
We derived a little tune from these phrases and made silly recordings, long since lost. I can even remember the tune, but I feel loathe to attempt a retrospective recording.
Paul might remember it all himself or use various methods of bribery, intoxication or both to get me to give a rendition.
Postscript/Update: Overnight, after sending Paul this piece, not only did Paul submit a comment (below), he also sent me an audio file. Clearly this rendition is an octave or two lower than the pre-teen original, but needless to say, the tune is note perfect. The recording is, it is, in its own way, authentic:
Thank you, Paul. Of course, that 2018 rendition will have been recorded, with ease, using whatever simple recording gadgetary comes as an essential, basic component in Paul’s computer.
Back then, in February 1975, I think Paul was using a cassette deck for his recordings, but perhaps he was already using reel-to-reel – he was certainly well into the latter eventually.
But, by then, we the Harris family had no ordinary reel-to-reel – we had a brand new Sony TC377…
…which looked like the above image and had, amongst its many features, a wonderful feedback/echo chamber facility. With that facility, Paul and I recorded a sort-of psychedelic version of Some Enchanted Evening on one occasion. It might have been the occasion registered in the following diary entry:
Wednesday 9 April 1975. Paul Deacon came for day. Nice time.
The details are lost in the mists of time, but for sure I was enjoying those school holiday muck around with tape recorders days.
Such a shame the tapes seem to have been lost forever.
With thanks to Paul for his comment below, I’m guessing his book look like this image – which you can click through to a well-known on-line store
Let’s be honest – my handwriting did not improve during my Alleyn’s years
Sunday 2 February 1975 – classes good. Grandma Anne for tea. TV Film: Bueno Sera, Mrs Campbell.
Monday 3 February 1975– Fives good. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones v good.
Tuesday 4 February 1975 – classes good. Went to Uncle Arnold’s. Very interesting. TV The Mighty Continent.
“Uncle Arnold’s” means Arnold Levene‘s house. Arnold, Leatrice and their several children (some of whom, especially Rachel and Caroline, will crop up at times in my diaries) lived in Abbotswood Road, about five minutes walk from our place. Arnold & Leatrice were good friends with my parents.
“Uncle Arnold” was a consultant pathologist at the Royal Marsden and also had a side-line as a coroner’s pathologist.
I remember this visit incredibly clearly for the “interesting” episode to which i refer. Arnold had learnt that my mother was due to have total hip arthroplasty later in February.
Presumably, while undertaking a post mortem around that time, he uncovered a Stanmore prosthetic hip, the very type my mother was due to have. Arnold must have thought that it would “do the boy good” to see the exact type of hip joint that his mother was about to receive, so he presented me with that rather gory trophy on this visit, explaining in great detail how such prosthetics work.
Mum was more than a little horrified. Dad was more than a little amused. “What’s Ian supposed to do with that?”, asked mum, pointing at the prosthetic which still showed some visible signs of its recent physical location.
He should take it to school, to show his schoolmates, and thereafter use it as a doorstop…
…was Arnold’s typically blunt reply.
I took Arnold’s advice for many decades, although it also lived tucked away in drawers at times, when Resting from doorstop duties. But at some point a few years ago, Janie decided that the item spooked her, so I either deep filed it very deeply indeed (I cannot find it) or I agreed to part company with it.
Which is a shame, as, 50 years later, I am about to get a prosthetic hip joint of my own. And although mine will be all ceramic and quite possibly pink, I’d quite like to see “old, faithful Stan” again. Not sure I’d want to wear a second hand one, though.
Sounds as though “trying hockey” was a good idea for me
Wednesday 5 February 1975 – Hockey v good. 3-2 us, I scored two of the three. TV Anna and the King, Top Crown and Till Death Us Do Part.
Thursday 6 February 1975 – classes good. TV The Roman Way, After That…This, The Two Ronnies.
Friday 7 February 1975 – PE good. TV Sportstown. Chico and the Man, Nellie (not on your) and MASH.
Saturday, 8 February 1975 – got nasty cold. Went shopping. TV Doctor Who, Disney, Pot Black, Jane Eyre and Kojak v good.
Sunday 9 February 1975 – still bad cold. Missed classes. TV Who Do You Do!?!?!?
Monday 10 February 1975 – prepared for entrance exams. TV Likely Lads, Smith and Jones, Goodies, Call My Bluff.
Tuesday, 11 February 1975 – entrance exam – Tindale. V good. TV. MacMillan & Wife, Androcles & The Lion film.
I vaguely recall helping to supervise entrance exams and feeling very grown up that we second years were entrusted with the enormous responsibility of “sitting there”. Trevor Tindale no doubt made the role feel terribly important and will have marshalled us in his inimitable and positive manner, hence the name check.
Androcles and the Lion was one of those “of their time” 1950s epic movies, starring Jean Simmons & Victor Mature. My dad loved GB Shaw’s writing, which is probably why we watched it.
“Whatever you do, don’t mention the Roman-Parthian wars…”.
The so-called-AI app that I use to turn my dictation into text, named that film “Andrew Cleese & the Lion”, which I rather like as an alternative. John’s brother, presumably?
Wednesday 12 February 1975 – Chapel (no). TV Top Crown, Till Death Us Do Part.
Thursday 13 February 1975 – could learn viola. TV the Roman Way, The Two Ronnies.
To understand why “could learn viola” is a funny line, you need to understand how utterly awful I was at playing the violin. The noise was excruciating.
My mother wanted me to play, because I come from a long line of elite violinists…
That particular bit of the family talent gene pool didn’t make it to me. Nor did a switch to viola do anything other than lower the tone even further. [Did you see what I did there?]
Deeper doo-doo
Friday 14 February 1975 – field day. Kew Gardens. ‘Green grows my bogling fork”. Went to Paul’s after, great day. TV Sportstown, Paper Moon and MASH v good.
In truth I remember little about the field trip to Kew Gardens. I don’t think it was our first choice. Gardens have never really been my thing…neither have outdoor places when the weather is cold been my thing.
But I do remember Paul Deacon teaching me the “Green Grows My Bogling Fork” song…
…aka Green Grow My Nadgers Oh
Paul Deacon might choose to explain himself or comment further upon the inexplicable.
Saturday 15 February 1975 – half term, uneventful. TV Doctor Who, Walt Disney, David Aarons – Monopoly.
Sunday, 16 February 1975 – classes talk. Afternoon went with Ida Manny and Anthony. TV Who Do You Do? Kalooki.
Monday 17 February 1975 – uneventful. Played with games etc. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith & Jones, Goodies and Call My Bluff.
Tuesday, 18 February 1975 – went shopping, classes good. TV McMillan and Wife, The Mighty Continent.
I’ll write up the David Aarons story next time, as he came around again the following Saturday.
I cannot get that wretched Green Grows My Bogling Fork song out of my head again now. Thank you, Paul Deacon!
I wonder whether one should use a Chamley or a Stanmore prosthetic hip as a bogling fork? Surely some medical people among my readership can advice.
Is that Chris Grant and others trying hockey in this 1975/76 picture?
This article is a sequel to my recent piece about the first half of January 1975 which involved what must surely be the worst defeat I ever suffered on a football pitch:
That article was enhanced by some timely correspondence from the antipodes, with Nigel Allott, who more-or-less confessed to being the goalie in that match. Whether his family’s flight to the antipodes a year or so later was connected with that humiliation is a matter purely for conjecture. I find it hard to imagine any other reason to emigrate to New Zealand in 1976. ?
But then, a few days after publication, in mid-January 2025, a coincidental encounter with another prominent Alleyn’s Old Boy Goalie, Simon Barton.
Finding Barton, Hidden In Plain Sight
For those of you who don’t follow Ogblog comprehensively, I should explain that my sports enthusiasm since school has focussed on cricket and tennis – latterly that most wonderful sport real tennis, which I took up in 2016.
I have even managed some modicum of success at real tennis, not least on the following occasion:
Real tennis is a friendly, welcoming game. Enthusiasts encourage new players, for whom our fiendishly complex game is always extremely difficult at first. We use handicapping, which helps us to play “mixed ability / mixed experience” games. At Lord’s, which is my home court, I curate club nights, which are convivial and friendly. The mini matches we play are competitive, but with a very small “c”.
Recently I have encountered a relative newbie – a chap named Simon Barton, whom I partnered in a friendly game of doubles the other other day. In the sort of locker room chat that goes on in places such as the MCC locker room, Simon mentioned that he was to play a golf match the following week against the Old Alleynians, to which I instinctively said:
ah, great, make sure you sock it to them!
When Simon wondered why I said that and I explained that I am an AOB, he exclaimed…
…so am I!…
…and of course we started swapping Alleyn’s stories.
The coincidence is all the more strange, because a quick trawl of the Scribblerus resources I have been mining for pictures of late, revealed Simon’s name underneath the “goalies eye view” picture I used in my early January 1975 piece, linked above:
Once Simon has gained a bit more experience at real tennis and once I have recovered from my impending hip replacement surgery, I hope we can represent the AOBs in The Cattermull Cup, which is THE handicap school alumni tournament for real tennis. Target – spring 2026.
Second Half Of January 1975 – When I Mercifully Switched Away From Footie
Sunday, 19 January 1975 – Classes morning. Afternoon [Grandma] Jenny and Doris [Marcus – widow of my mother’s cousin Harry]. Very nice change [from seeing my Harris grandma, Anne]. TV Planet of the Apes.
Monday, 20 January 1975 – Games choice – hockey. TV Likely Lads, Smith and Jones, Call My Bluff, Churchill’s People.
Tuesday 21 January 1975 – uneventful. Classes good. TV The Mighty continent on World War II – very interesting.
Wednesday, 22 January 1975 – Fives – great tuition from Mr Tindale. Evening went to Peacock club to arrange Bar mitzvah [party].
Thursday, 23 January 1975 – classes good. TV Roman Way, After That…This and The Two Ronnies- very good
Friday, 24 January 1975 – Biology – petri dishes. TV Sportstown, MASH.
Saturday 25 January 1975 – Exeat [i.e. no Saturday morning school]. Went to Shule. Afternoon uneventful. TV Doctor Who, Generation Game, Pot Black.
It’s interesting, to me, that I was noting the content of biology classes at that time. Chris Liffen was our 2AK biology teacher. I remember that he was strict and could be tetchy if he thought you were being lazy or lazy-minded, but he took great pains to try to make the lessons interesting, which clearly worked with me and inspired me to jot down a reminder of the content in my diary. Don’t try to quiz me on topics such as petri dishes, bacteria and/or milk.
Not quite this level of fives
Sunday, 26 January 1975 – Classes good. Kalloki 4p
Monday, 27 January 1975 – Tu BiShvat [a sort-of ecological Jewish festival – I had to Google it], so went to classes. TV Alias Smith Jones, Call My Bluff, Churchill’s People.
Tuesday, 28 January 1975 – No classes because of yesterday – otherwise uneventful. [I love the way the absence of an activity was the most…indeed the only…eventful thing I could mention that day]
Wednesday 29 January 1975 – Fives v good. Alan [Cooke] and I beat Tug & Athaide, and Barnett & Friersen. I beat Fred and Alan 15-10 TV Till Death Us Do Part
Thursday 30 January 1975 – Classes v good. TV After That…This and The Two Ronnies
Friday 31 January 1975 – Uneventful. Biology bacteria and milk. TV Sportstown and MASH and Rhoda v good.
Saturday 1 February 1975 – School morning. Afternoon played on my own. TV Doctor Who, Generation Game, Jane Eyre and Kojak.
More important questions than “who loves ya, baby?”:
Who was nicknamed Tug?
Who was nicknamed Fred?
Answers in the comments (or by private message if guesses).
Update On The Exam Questions
I really should read my own resources before asking questions. According to my 1974/75 class names list, “Pullinger” was known as “Tug”. I suspect also that “Fred” doesn’t read Fred at all, but reads “Brad” for Dave Bradshaw:
Unable To Face It – picture from a 1970s Scribblerus
OK, which of you horrible other classes led to my humiliating diary confession:
Monday 13 January 1975 – lost football match 16-1…
Was it you, 2BJ? Or more likely you, 2BM? Surely not 2AS? If no-one owns up to this, I might have to put all of you into detention.
16-1. How must that have felt at the time?
All was lost, but that the heavens fought…
…that’s what I probably said at the time…or words to that effect
Coincidentally, I received some cheery correspondence the other day (just shy of 50 years after the events described in this article), from Nigel Allott, who was in 1s and 2AK with us “back then”, but fled England with his family for New Zealand of all places about a year after The Carnage Match.
What is it with New Zealand and Alleyn’s alums named Nigel? Sir Nigel Godfrey might choose to help answer this question.
Anyway, Nigel Allott writes:
I’ve just stumbled across your site while browsing other Alleyn’s information. I am the Allott that appears in your diary class lists. We left for New Zealand after the first term of Year 3, but I remember a few of the class well, and enjoyed my time at Alleyn’s.
Given that I was planning this article at the time, I thought it only polite, as part of my reply, to ask Nigel about THAT match:
…Do you remember us (2AK) losing a football match 16-1 to another class on 13 January? That must have been a tough score line to take…
Nigel responded:
I can’t remember the football match, but it is likely I was in goal watching the ball go past. I knew so little about football when I started at Alleyns that I was always put in goal because it kept me facing the right way!
I do remember enjoying field trips along the South Downs, although there was one field trip when our bus slid off the M4 on black ice near Heathrow (we might have been going somewhere else that time).
As for keeping goal, which became my gig on the rare occasions I played football after that season, I suspect that it was only Nigel’s superior skills at lobbying for the goalie role that kept me and my two left feet away from it until Nigel and family abandoned the school. My memories of house football in the year or two following 2AK are solely about me being in goal.
A terrified-goalie’s-eye view, another 1970s Scribblerus picture
I hope it wasn’t the humiliating 16-1 defeat at football that drove Nigel and his family to flee to the furthest-flung corner of the dominions, where word of this sporting humiliation would probably not have reached…until now.
Let’s trawl the rest of my diary around that time. It wasn’t all about losing football matches 16-1. But, I mean, 16-1?! I wonder who scored the one? No, I’m over it again now.
Sunday, 5 January 1975 – Classes morning. Afternoon Grandma Anne Kalooki lost 5p. TV Planet of the Apes, Colombo, and No honestly. V good.
Monday, 6 January 1975 – Cloudy. Morning uneventful. Afternoon Andrew [Levinson]. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones, Call My Bluff, and Churchill’s People.
Tuesday, 7 January 1975 – Fair. Went shopping in morning. Played in afternoon. TV film Right Left and Centre with Ian Carmichael and Alistair Sims v good.
Actually that film was called Left, Right & Centre. You can watch it on Daily Motion if you wish:
Wednesday, 8 January 1975 – Returned to school. TV Benny Hill v good indeed.
Thursday, 9 January 1975 – Classes good. Improved on model aeroplane – Cessna Skywagon.
Ah, the model kit that Auntie Pam and Uncle Michael gave me was a balsa wood Cessna Skywagon kit. The kit looked a bit like this. I vaguely recall the smell of the glue being the best bit of this exercise from my point of view. Not really ideal for cack-handed 12-year-olds, balsa wood model airplanes.
Friday 10 January 1975 – PE – swam butterfly. Nearly finished model. TV Rhoda and MASH v good.
Saturday, 11 January 1975 – School in morning. Bonfire in afternoon. TV ?!!!
I let the side down there, not noting the viewing. BBC Genome to the rescue. I’m going to guess Pot Black, Lulu and Kojak.
Sunday, 12 January 1975 – Classes morning. Afternoon Grandma Anne at home. Kalooki 19p. TV Planet of the Apes, film Billy Liar v good.
I vaguely remember doing Billy Liar in class, either with Ian Sandbrook in 1S or Michael Lempriere in 2AK. I don’t suppose we were able to give it the Tom Courtney treatment in class. here’s the film trailer.
I remember at one time, a few years later, my mother wondered out loud whether I should apply to “work for Keith Waterhouse”. As I was dabbling with comedy writing at the time, I thought she might, uncharacteristically, be encouraging me to pursue my avocation ahead of knuckling down to a reputable job. Then I realised that mum must have been confusing Keith Waterhouse with Price Waterhouse.
Monday 13 January 1975 – Lost football match 16 –1. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones, Call My Bluff and Churchill’s People.
Tuesday, 14 January 1975 – Rouse switched with handicraft. [50 years later, I have no idea what that means]. Classes good. TV, The Mighty Continent.
Wednesday 15 January 1975 – Fives v good. TV Till Death Us Do Part.
Thursday, 16 January 1975 – Physics good. No drama. Classes good. TV After That…This and The Two Ronnies
Friday, 17 January 1975 – Biology – bacteria. TV Sportstown, MASH.
Saturday 18 January 1975 – School morning. Afternoon uneventful. TV Pot Black, Thriller and Kojak.
Actually, the diary entry the following Monday provides some unintentional comedy in the light of the 16-1 defeat at soccer.
…games choice – hockey…
After a 16-1 defeat at soccer, switching to hockey instead seems like a sound move.
Actually, I now have a sneaking suspicion that my 2 December diary entry which mentions “extra with Rothbart” after the football, see the following linked piece…
…might well have been a taster of hockey with Bernard Rothbart to encourage some of us to switch to his favoured sport. No doubt he had spotted a glimmer of talent for “hard ball and stick” games…or more likely Mr Rothbart had spotted an utter absence of talent for footy-type games.
“Try hockey, kid. Maybe, just maybe you could be a contender.” Another 1970s Scribblerus image.
