Without doubt my favourite game in the early days at Alleyn’s was fives. Specifically at Alleyn’s we played Rugby Fives.
It was the only sport at which I was good enough to represent the school and no doubt that selection only came through my comparative ability with the left-hand as well as the right. Let’s not call this ambidextrous, in my case more like ambiclumsy. In any case, my doubles partner was Alan Cooke and he was good. I probably got my team berth more on the back of Alan’s skills than my own.
Still, I wasn’t bad and there are lots of references to my successes and failures throughout my diaries, especially 1974 & the first half of 1975.
But looking back today, early February 2016, I thought I should write a short piece about this simple entry I found for 9 June 1975.
Uneventful day. Beat Eltham 11-5, 11-5 in Q-Finals.
Now in my book, John Eltham was good at sport. Really good at sport. I’m not sure John played fives much, but he was generally good at sport.
I was not good at sport. Really, really, really not good at sport. There was the occasional success, of course, not least one goalkeeping tale of derring-do that I have promised not to blog about…
…for the time being…
…until I can find the reference and/or unless the promised hush money proves not to be forthcoming…
…but my point is, looking back, I don’t see how the two sentences in the above quote could possibly be talking about the same day. Beating John Eltham at any sport made it an eventful day. Heck, just having got to the Q-Finals of any sport made it an eventful day for me.
But perhaps my young mind, turned by some fleeting success, was by then looking beyond a semi-final appearance to greater glory than that achieved.
The diary is silent on fives for the rest of the term apart from a fleeting mention of my semi-final loss a week-or-so later, with no mention of the score or the opponent – click here or below – clearly I couldn’t even bear to write down that particular losing result.
Anyone care/dare to own up to ruining this poor kid’s day by destroying his one chance at glory in the internal fives competition? I fancy a rematch.
Postscript One
John Eltham, on seeing this posting, e-mailed me the next day to say:
You modestly left out the fact that we had at least two national Rugby Fives champions in our year ! Hodson & Stendall.
Indeed we did, John. And indeed Jumbo Jennings latterly. I’d forgotten about Neil Hodson in that context.
I have a strange feeling that it might well have been Hodson who beat me in the semis – I have always had a sense of unfinished business with him and I probably would have been too gutted to report the loss. Whereas Chris Stendall was, like Alan Cooke, an old mate from primary school; I took my (more often than not) losses against them on the chin and regularly recorded those in the diary.
Postscript Two
After writing the above line “I fancy a rematch” and posting this piece, I then knelt down to put the 1975 diary back in the box under the bed and then…felt my left hammy twinge when I got up again. Perhaps a fives rematch at the age of 53 is not such a good idea after all.
Postscript Three
For reasons of his own, Rohan Candappa presented me with a trophy commemorating this historic fives victory, in December 2018, described here:
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 didn’t much use the B word (“boring”) in my teenage diaries, but that word does crop up more than once during the first three weeks of April 1975, deployed recklessly, as I shall point out later in this piece.
Tuesday, 1 April 1975 played on my own. TV Flintstones, Edward VII. Made model plane.
Wednesday 2 April 1975 – went to Andrew’s [Levinson] in afternoon. Played snooker etc. TV 20th Century Fox Presents, Fight Against Slavery.
Thursday, 3 April 1975 – played tennis and football in morning with Andy [Levinson] and Stewart [Harris]. TV man about the house, are you being served, Dave Allen.
Friday 4 April 1975 – played with Andy in afternoon. In morning got record missing from library [?].
Saturday 5 April 1975 – went to Spurs in afternoon. TV Pot Black, Canon.
I cannot fathom what I am trying to tell my diary about the record library. I do recall borrowing a lot of records from the library over the years, probably starting around then.
I can convincingly report through the power of memory that Stanley Benjamin took me to see that match. My memory (as enhanced by Google) can also report that a star-studded Spurs beat Luton Town 2-1 that day.
Sunday, 6 April 1975 – classes morning. Kalooki in afternoon and evening. All square!? Times seven.
Monday, 7 April 1975 – played with Andy. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones, Goodies, Horizon.
Tuesday, 8 April 1975 – went shopping. Classes, grammar, whole book!! TV High Society, Edward The Seventh.
Wednesday, 9 April 1975 – Paul Deacon came over for day. Nice time.
Thursday, 10 April 1975 – classes! Andrew in the afternoon. TV Man About The House, Are You Being Served?
Friday, 11 April 1975 – another boring day! Tennis Stewart Harris. TV Caribe, The Good Life, Within These Walls, ? by 10!
I can only apologise to my friends whose names are juxtaposed with the word boring. I am quite sure I meant to say, “boring day apart from…” rather than suggest that my activities with friends were boring.
Saturday, 12 April 1975 – went to Chelsea V Man City. Lost 0–1. Good match though.
Sunday, 13 April 1975 – Kalooki 4p. Classes pretty boring as usual. Benjahair turned up! Mini squidge joined.
I cannot work out exactly where those nicknames came from, or even in the case of the first one whose nickname it was. Benjahair might have been Alison Benjamin‘s nickname at that time. Mini Squidge was Graham Laikin, younger brother of “Squidge” who was Richard Laikin. I’m sure these lovely people will be thrilled to have their teenage nicknames dug out of the archives for posterity. This is what happens when information treasure troves are opened under the fifty year rule. 🤪
Monday 14 April 1975 morning uneventful. Afternoon Andrew and Henry. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith & Jones, Goodies – goody goody yum yum!
Tuesday, 15 April 1975 – Andrew afternoon snooker 7-6 to me after 5-1 to him. Molivers [Josh & Sadie] came in evening. Nice day!
Wednesday, 16 April 1975 – hospital mum in within three weeks. Taken by Marjorie and Wendy [Levinson]. Brixton haircut. TV Survivors, Fight Against Slavery.
I cannot recall who Henry was. If it was someone from Alleyn’s School, Henry is a nickname which has slipped my memory. Apologies. Perhaps a friend of Andy’s from his previous school, Dulwich Prep. Sadie Moliver was mum’s cousin, although a generation older than mum in fact. Sadie was one of the few people on the planet who terrified my mum. It might have been on this occasion that I helped make the tea and mum demanded in a trembling voice that I ensure that Sadie’s cuppa was strong or else she would denounce it…
“this tea tastes like piss”.
Sadie when much younger. Thanks to Sidney Pizan for the picture.
Thursday 17 April 1975. I’ve – went to Alan’s [Cooke] for day. Lovely time. Went to classes. TV Love Thy Neighbour, Are You Being Served.
Friday, 18 April 1975 – had diarrhoea! Went shopping. In afternoon saw film on TV: The Village, Husband of the Year, The Good Life.
I’m sure that many of my readers are appreciating this level of detail in my juvenile diary, especially the many readers who like to use Ogblog as mealtime reading. [Please insert your own joke along the lines of “verbal diarrhoea diary” here]
Saturday, 19 April 1975 went to see Chelsea V Spurs. Fighting on terraces. Lost 0-2. Boo. TV Pot Black final, G[raham] Miles won. Canon.
Regarding THAT football match, I remember the occasion quite clearly. Again I was with Stanley Benjamin & some other members of the Benjamin family in their season ticket seats. The scrappiness of the football can be seen in this “classic match” video:
The match, the violence and the long tail of resentment between the two sides is captured in this article – click here -one of many I could have chosen.
I didn’t feel any sense of danger, as my hosts knew (or at least held themselves out to be knowing) how and when to leave the ground to avoid trouble.
My parents, however, were unnerved by the fact that I was on my way home from a football match while they were seeing scenes of violence from the ground on the news.
It might have been that occasion, more than anything else, that made my parents a little more reluctant to let me go off to football matches, while being quite relaxed about me toddling off to see county cricket at The Oval.
Friends who have shown concern about my football allegiances at that time (Perry Harley – you might be one of many) will spot the clarity of my express emotions in the April 1975 diary – my heart at that time was with Chelsea. Whereas I can now honestly say that my heart is not with (or against) any football team.
For those who find snooker more to their taste than football, I have found that Pot Black final on YouTube too:
You might sense that I was becoming a little skittish for the last two days of that school holiday. Dig the final two holiday entries:
Sunday, 20 April 1975 – found snail (Sydney). Kalooki, won 22p. Nice day in all!
Monday, 21 April 1975 – went to Tooting. Played around. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones, Goodies – a goody goody yum Yum.
What I did in Tooting and with whom I played around on that last day of the holidays is lost in the mists of time. Andy Levinson and/or Stewart Harris most likely.
The ultra violence of those London derby football matches was clearly starting to have an effect on us youngsters! 🤪
…the noise of me playing with the echo effect capabilities of our Sony TC377 were probably a relative mercy to my parents ears. I am relieved and delighted to inform you that those particular echo chamber efforts appear to be lost for ever, so you are spared the indignity of hearing them. But fear not, echo lovers, I think there are one or two other recordings of that ilk that have survived – eh, Paul Deacon? 😉
Far too much telly, as usual, but it does seem that the Harris family TV vigil was mostly in front of BBC2 in those days, which at least had some educational content. See this link for the BBC2 schedule that night. Strangely, I remember that Horizon programme about the Milgram Experiment very clearly, as it affected me profoundly and I still think Milgram’s work has currency, despite it not conforming with modern standards of control and rigour.
Tuesday, 25 March 1975 – no [Hebrew] classes. TV Flintstones, Gillette Cup 71, Napoleon, Police Harrow Road.
Wednesday, 26 March 1975 – broke up from school. Not bad report. Andrew Levinson] in afternoon. Our own little Seder with duck. TV Rhoda, Slaves
“Our own little Seder” would have been me, mum and dad. Radical choice of duck for that “dress rehearsal” ceremonial meal, but dad was always partial to duck (as am I) and it was, after all, our own little Seder. I can tell you for sure that dad would have rushed through the ceremonial verbiage to get to the meal as quickly as possible. The next night we’d have been on better behaviour and the whole thing would have been more “regular”. I expect lamb was involved on the Thursday.
Thursday 27th of March 1975 played Subbuteo cricket. Seder with Marie and Louis and Grandma Jenny.
The first mention of Subbuteo cricket in my diary. I am pretty sure I would have been given it for – or rather funded the purchase from money given to me around – Christmas.
The approach of the cricket season…which even in those days included the BBC showing highlights from a Gillette Cup final from a few year’s earlier…must have prompted me to get started with my Subbuteo Cricket on the first day of the Easter holidays. Good for me.
Friday, 28 March 1975 – went to see Spurs V Wolves 3-0. Went to Grandma Anne’s in evening. TV Around The World In 80 Days.
The visit to White Hart Lane to see Tottenham Hotspurs play Wolverhampton Wanderers will have been with Stanley Benjamin. The Benjamins (Doreen & Stanley, plus daughters Jane & Lisa) were friends of the family and lived in our street.
Mum with Doreen & Stanley, late 1950s or c1960.
The entire male branch of the Benjamin family had season tickets at White Hart Lane. Andy Levinson and I were convenient substitutes if one or more of Stanley’s brothers/kin were away. On this occasion, as I don’t mention Andy, I think it was just me and I think we joined one or two of Stanley’s brothers in the posh stand where their season ticket seats were located.
There was a big bank holiday crowd that day and I remember oh so clearly that John Duncan scored one of the goals and Steve Perryman scored the other two…
If you want to see the programme, it is available on e-bay – click here. I note that I saw Cyril Knowles play that day. No doubt there were many choruses of “Nice One Cyril” ringing out around White Hard Lane that afternoon, as the promise of a Spurs victory came good. Go on, click the embed, you know you want to hear the song.
Saturday 29 March 1975 – went to shule. Went shopping. TV Doctor Who v good.
Sunday 30 March 1975 – no classes, lunch at Feld’s, Grandma Anne around for tea and evening. TV film Camelot.
Monday, 31 March 1975 – Dad was home. In all day. TV Scooby Doo, two Al Jolson films, Paper Moon, Goodies, Futtocks End, Alias Smith & Jones, Further Up Pompeii
An insane amount of telly on Bank Holiday Monday. I’ll guess it was a wet day. Futtocks End was one of those short comedy films that came around with alarming regularity on public holidays. I remember that there were no words – just grunts and exclamatory noises. My dad loved that film. Here are some clips:
John Burns, aka John Random, reports below that we both must have been watching the same stuff on TV. Well, there were only three channels; I’m sure the choices of discerning viewers such as our parents would often overlap! As evidence, John has sent in a magnificent sketch of his own – not a comedy sketch on this occasion but a pencil sketch. My dad would surely have approved.
Up Pompeii starred Frankie Howerd – it was a sort of cross between “A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To the Forum” and “Carry On Cleo”. I’m not sure the material has aged well…or perhaps it was always somewhat infantile… but in any case I do recall liking Up Pompeii as a child, whereas I find this short clip excruciating now
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 pre-op (plate removal I think) ahead of 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 a pre-operation (plate removal from a failed attempt to avoid hip replacement) ahead of her hip replacement surgery, 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, preparing to having her Stanmore inserted in May.
It is strange sitting writing this article in the clinic, almost 50 years to the day that mum started the process of a hip replacement, 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
