Ian Louis Harris

Heavy Rollers Trip To Edgbaston, England v India, 31 July to 3 August 2018

31 July 2018 – The Day I Forgot That I Hadn’t Forgotten The Tickets

The plan was to have a quiet morning finishing off work bits before setting off towards Birmingham for three nights and three days of Heavy Roller cricketing joy…

…but we all know what tends to happen to that sort of plan.

So I ran around like crazy that morning, fitting in two client meetings, getting my packing done and shovelling down some lunch. Still I managed to leave home at a reasonable hour to avoid the traffic and get to Brum in time to shower, change and join up with the lads.

As I drove past the Warwick junction of the M40, I had a horrible brain flash. The utter conviction I had, earlier in the day, that Chas has the tickets this year, morphed into a distinct memory of Chas handing me an Essex CCC ticket wallet.

“But that must have been my Chelmsford ticket,” I thought, until my memory distinctly remembered the sight of Edgbaston tickets in an Essex ticket wallet. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that I had been an idiot not looking in my ticket draw when packing…even though, in truth, I could not recall seeing those tickets in that draw in my recent ticket trawls for Lord’s matches and the like.

I decided that I simply needed to fess up to Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett on arrival and we’d work out how I might get replacement tickets issued. I cannot be the first “gentleman with waning powers of memory” to travel to an Edgbaston test without his tickets, so there must be some sort of reissuing procedure and I knew Chas would have his ticket records with him.

I called Chas on arrival – he and The Boy Malloy had just gone down to the bar to meet Nigel “Father Barry” Hinks. Chas’s immediate reaction was that he had all the tickets in his care, including mine, as is usually the case…

…then he went on the same memory journey as I had travelled…he did remember handing me an Essex wallet and he did remember separating out tickets for me, for some reason…

…anyway, by the time I had showered and got to the Plough And Harrow Bar to join the lads, Chas had checked the ticket situation and discovered that he had them all.

We then both realised that the memory flash of Chas giving me my tickets in advance was from last year, when Daisy and I travelled up the night before and had pre-arranged to join the others at the ground for the start of the West Indies day/nighter:

Day/Night Test Match, England v West Indies, Edgbaston, 17 to 19 August 2017

Did the lads give me a ribbing for sort of forgetting my tickets…or rather for forgetting that I hadn’t forgotten my tickets?

Yes.

I tried to counter-rib by suggesting that they had forgotten to book Colbeh, stymieing our dinner plans, but that didn’t work. In fact, it is just as well that I saw Azlan from Colbeh as I walked past, as he said he was pretty full that night so I did genuinely make a booking that might just have saved our evening plans. Chapeau to Azlan for remembering my name from last year and the year before.

An Evening In Birmingham With Daisy, Dinner At Colbeh, 16 August 2017

Anyway, this year’s pre-match dinner at Colbeh comprised me, Chas and Nigel. The Boy Malloy had arranged to meet up with a friend at the Birmingham Cosy Club, the name of which drew a similar “oo er missus” type reaction from Chas and Nigel to that of the burghers of Leicestershire CCC, when I announced a similar meet up in Leicester a few weeks ago:

Three Days In Leicester Mostly For Cricket, 20 to 22 June 2018

The Colbeh Three (as Chas, Nigel and I should now be known) had a superb meal again this season at Colbeh. It is a joy to see how well that place is doing, Nigel and I having been early customers there a couple of years ago when it first opened. I think the food might still be getting better and better. When I got home, Daisy asked me if I had thanked Azlan for recommending the book The Saffron Tales to her, from which she has taken much pleasure and adapted several recipes. I admitted I hadn’t…

…until now. Thanks, Azlan.

Match Day One – On Making The Most Of Plenty: Copious Mrs Malloy Sandwiches c/w England’s Run Scoring

After a hearty breakfast based on kippers, I chose to walk directly from my digs at the Eaton Hotel to the ground. It is a lovely 45 minute walk across Edgbaston.

Ticket scanning and security is so well organised at Edgbaston these days; I was in the ground around 10:30 and heard the toss as I was entering the stand.

I was the first of our group to arrive, but there were quite a few people already seated in our block. Then a young man came along and sat in one of our seats. I said, “excuse me, that cannot be your seat”.

“Yes it is”, exclaimed the young man, “look!” He showed me his ticket. Block 06, Row A, Seat 5.

“You should be in Block 6”, I said, “this is Block 7”.

“No it isn’t”, said a few people seated around me, “this is Block 6”. I really was starting to worry about waning powers now, but turned around and saw, clearly on the wall behind me, the big “7” sign that indicates Block 7.

“It really is Block 7”, I said. “See the sign…”

…then one or two other people chimed in, “of course this is Block 7”.

But for some reason, perhaps an errant steward, perhaps group-think amongst several unconnected parties of people, 15 to 20 people got up and relocated to the real Block 6.

I had a good chortle with a few of the real Block 7 residents about that one.

Then I took the photograph below.

Then I started to wonder whether the others were ever going to show up; they are usually so keen to get to the ground in good time. Eventually show up they did; slightly frazzled/later than intended. Something about a wrong turn.

Heavy laden, they were, with a picnic fit for Heavy Rollers. Mrs Malloy had gone wild with the sandwiches this year: corned beef with mustard and smoked ham ones for the meat eaters, quorn chicken for the veggies, cheese for everyone and egg mayonnaise for everyone other than me.

Mrs Malloy had also gone wild with her gold-ink sandwich-pack labelling pen, to symbolise the impending golden anniversary of the Malloys.

We ascertained that Those Were The Days by Mary Hopkin was number one in the charts when the Malloys hitched; likewise when Harsha Ghoble was born. Very apt.

…but I digress again.

While we tucked in to the picnic for several hours, England seemed to be tucking in to the Indian bowling quite nicely too.

Ahead of our visit, I had written up one of our silly cricket matches from days of yore; the one in which a certain James Pitcher playing for Z/Yen ran out a lumbering Charley The Gent, with a brilliant and utterly unexpected direct hit:

Match Of The Day & Play Of The Day, Z/Yen v The Children’s Society, Holland Park, 22 June 2004

They say that history doesn’t repeat itself but it does rhyme. In a strange echo of the Charley The Gent run out from 2004, Joe Root was run out, while attempting a second run, by Virat Kohli, soon after tea. That incident and the rest of the day one highlights can be seen on this short reel:

Meanwhile, as England’s fortunes rapidly declined, Charley The Gent was insisting that we finish all the sandwiches today, withholding snacks and sweetmeats for the remaining days. “I have to be able to report to her that all the sandwiches went”, said Charley.

They all went. We were stuffed. We did not eat that evening. We simply met in the Plough and Harrow bar for a couple of glasses. We concluded that, although Charley hadn’t thrown away any sandwiches, England might well have thrown away the match in that last session.

Match Day Two – More On History Not Repeating Itself But Rhyming

After breakfast (I went full English today after last night’s dietary abstinence), again I walked to the ground directly from my hotel.

I had a particular purpose and route in mind today. I have been reading up on the history of tennis (real and lawn) and had uncovered a history of tennis piece from Country Life Magazine…

…scraped to here just in case…

…which mentions a particular address in Edgbaston, Fairlawn on Westbourne Road, as the home of Pelota, an early form of lawn tennis that most resembled the version that took hold and was possibly the first of that kind.

No longer is there a commemorative plaque and I wasn’t expecting late 20th century modern build flats either; I was expecting a somewhat distressed-looking Victorian villa, much like some of the neighbouring houses, which are mostly used as low key residential care homes or sheltered housing these days. Oh well; I’ve seen it now.

The lads arrived in good time today – no wrong turn.

Charley was a little sheepish; he’d been ticked off by Mrs Malloy for force-feeding us with infeasible quantities of sandwiches. She hadn’t honestly expected us to get through them all, she just wanted each of us to have plenty of choice.

“Can’t win”, said Charley, presumably in the matter of pleasing Mrs Malloy but perhaps he was thinking about the cricket match too.

We snacked while India seemed to establish their innings, until Sam Curran had other ideas and the match swung back to England until Kohli and the tail had yet other ideas…you get the idea.

It all reminded me a little of a couple of the excellent matches I have seen recently between Middlesex and Warwickshire; one at Edgbaston last year…

A Visit To Edgbaston, Mostly For Warwickshire v Middlesex, 3 to 5 July 2017

…the other at Lord’s, just a week or so before this test match:

Two Sweltering Days At Lord’s, The First With Ian Theodoreson, The Second With Rohan Candappa – Part Two: With Rohan C, 24 July 2018

I reflected that both of those close encounters had gone the way of my team…just. Would history thus rhyme for England, I wondered.

On the second of my leg-stretching sojourns, I spotted Tufty Trevor and Tufty Mike…

Tufty Stackpole v The Children’s Society, North Crawley CC, “Match Report”, 30 July 2006

…with there respective missuses, sitting right at the front of the block before the walkway we needed to use to get out of our Raglan Stand. The others must have walked past them obliviously several times. I stopped and chatted with the Tufties a while and alerted the other Rollers (especially Charley) on my return, enabling him to join the Tufties for a while later in the day.

Meanwhile our informal Heavy Rollers plan for dinner that evening – to dine (as we had done a couple of year’s previously) at Mr Idly’s Southern Indian establishment…

The Heavy Rollers, Edgbaston, England v Pakistan Days One to Three, 3 to 5 August 2016

…bit the dust when The Boy Malloy announced that he doesn’t like Indian food and a search to discover whether Mr Idly has other options revealed very poor recent reviews.

I did some extensive research and due diligence (didn’t these guys used to pay me to do this sort of thing, albeit on slightly bigger and more important procurement matters?) to uncover El Borracho De Oro (subsequently defunked) within spitting distance of the Plough & Harrow. With some difficulty, I managed to book it on-line so we were sorted.

While I was concentrating on all that, England’s fortunes slid again and by the end of Day two we were, one again, convinced that India had the edge.

Here is the ECB short highlights reel from that day:

El Borracho De Oro proved to be a good choice for dinner; the only shortcoming being the music noise. Also for future reference, the portion sizes were a little smaller than we expected so we possibly should have ordered more tapas – we’ll know for next time. It was very reasonably priced for its quality.

Apart from Charley disappearing back to the hotel to sort out an errant duplicate payment that wasn’t and Harsha disappearing to pick up on some work malarkey, it was a very cohesive, convivial and enjoyable evening.

Day Three – A Wonderful Day Of Test Cricket Leaving The Match Finely In The Balance

Back to the kippers for breakfast today, then I left my electricals and Benjy The Baritone Ukulele in the safe hands of Roberto at the Eaton before walking, for the last time this trip, to the ground.

Again the lads were in good time; indeed they got to the ground ahead of me this time. All except for Harsha, who had to deal with his business crisis before coming to the ground. I thought that might be the last we’d see of him, but in fact he turned up about 10 minutes into the day’s play. After a short committee meeting, we decided that he could participate in that day’s prediction game anyway, despite the additional inside knowledge that 10 minutes of play provides.

It didn’t help Harsha.

In fact, I was the biggest winner of the day; actually I showed positive on each of the three days – that might be a first.

Again the match tilted one way and then the other. Despair before lunch as England collapsed. Some respite after lunch as Curran tried to get England to a defensible score. Then joy as India collapsed. Then an impending sense of doom as India recovered somewhat late in the day, leaving the match perilously poised at the end of the day – probably just tilting in India’s favour.

Here is the ECB short highlights reel for Day three:

Chas kindly dropped me at my hotel to help speed me on my way – Daisy had invited some people over for dinner, although they all knew I would be back late. So we said our fond Heavy Roller farewells in the Eaton Hotel car park.

The Epilogue

It took me just under two hours to get back to Noddyland, where the dinner with Deni and Tony was only just underway, so I could shower and catch up with starters before joining the group for the main meal. Daisy has some pictures and I’ll report that separately.

London was sweltering – far hotter/muggier than Brum.

The next morning, Daisy and I did battle on the tennis court first thing. I gave it 120% and needed to do so in order to overcome a very keen Daisy. She felt that she ought to be able to beat me after I had sat around for three days watching cricket, eating and drinking. But I’m made of stern stuff.

As soon as we got home, just before the cricket started, Daisy kindly offered to do my washing from the trip, including the tennis kit in which I had just played. “Just pile it in front of the washing machine, ” she said.

When she came to the pile, she exclaimed, “urgh, what the hell is this? This is disgusting. What have you done?”

I wondered what on earth was the matter. I stepped in to find her holding my recently-worn briefs at arms length. “Have you wet yourself or something?”, she asked.

“No, I’ve just played an hour of rigorous tennis against you in sweltering heat, that’s all. You don’t normally do my washing and you certainly don’t normally see my sweaty undies before they have dried off a bit.”

“I don’t sweat like that”, said Daisy. I wondered whether to offer a short biology lesson but decided against.

Then we watched the cricket match pan out. If I gave the tennis 120%, then Ben Stokes must have given England 150%.

“I wonder whether Ben Stokes gets GBH of the earhole from his missus in the matter of his sweaty briefs”, I thought to myself, before deciding that “GBH of the earhole” was an unfortunate phrase in Ben Stokes’s context.

Ben Stokes’s performance and demeanour is well described in this excellent Guardian piece, which Nigel circulated to us rollers later that day. As Nigel said:

Just thought this bit of writing captured much of our experiences over our collective cricket-watching years

Chas responded:

The writer’s piece was wonderful and it made my emotions bubble up again! I believe he was absolutely spot on with the analysis of Stokes bowling, the brilliance, the commitment and the ‘gut renching’ dedication to win, no matter of the pain his body was suffering – because it was for the team – definitely some comparison to Freddie!

My major disappointment was not being there on Saturday to see and witness this fabulous and emotional win by England!!

Here is the ECB short highlights reel for the final day; those 90 minutes I witnessed on the TV rather than live:

All the match details and peripherals, good, bad and ugly, are on this Cricinfo resource.

This particular Heavy Rollers Edgbaston Test trip will live long in my memory as a classic amongst many wonderful Heavy Rollers experiences.

But It Still Goes On by Robert Graves, Finborough Theatre, 27 July 2018

“My bad”, as the young folks say, choosing this one.

These days, I usually avoid plays written in the “between the wars” period; there’s something about them stylistically that tends to grate on me and especially on Janie.

This one, by Robert Graves, never previously performed, seemed like such interesting subject matter for its time, from such a fine writer, I thought we might be in for a winner.

Here is the Finborough resource that drew us in, now with post-production links too.

It’s probably not the best idea for me and Janie to go to longer, wordy plays on a Friday evening, even at the best of times. But this was at the end of a hot and steamy week…

…a very wordy play with a disproportionately long first “half”…

…I thought the play might usefully be renamed “But It Still Goes On And On And On”…

…we ducked out at the interval and retreated to Noddyland via Mohsen.

Clearly many people and indeed a fair proportion of the reviewers, really liked this play/production. Here is a link that finds reviews, good, bad and ugly.

To be fair, there was quite a lot to like about the production, as is usually the case at the Finborough. The cast were very good and the production tried to invoke a 1920s atmosphere pretty well, given the limited space and resources available in a room above above a pub; albeit one of the very best pub theatres on the planet.

It was the play that proved to be a let down for us. Hugely stereotypical characters; angst of the spoilt brat variety amongst the privileged classes…

…yes, of course we did feel sympathy with the characters who had suffered in the Great War and those who were struggling with their necessarily suppressed (in that era) feelings of various sexuality. But by gosh was it laid on with a wordy trowel and some ludicrous sub-plots.

It reminded me a bit of The Pains Of Youth by Ferdinand Bruckner; an Austrian existential angst play from the same era which, several years ago, also had us out of the theatre early, missing the rather inevitable tragic ending:

Pains Of Youth by Ferdinand Bruckner, Cottesloe Theatre, 7 November 2009

Further, I don’t think Robert Graves was a natural for play-writing and although the probable reason that the play was originally hidden/unperformed for many decades was its overt references to sexuality, I’d suggest that one of the other reasons was that those who commissioned it and others who subsequently looked at it decided that the play was not much good.

Given the subject matter, the play is, of course, an interesting curiosity in our modern era and I can see why the Finborough decided to produce it.

The acting was very good on the whole; Alan Cox played the lead role; his daddy Brian Cox (the actor, not the pop-scientist) was in the audience to watch him the night we were there.

We’re still fans of the Finborough; we just didn’t like this play.

Two Sweltering Days At Lord’s, The First With Ian Theodoreson, The Second With Rohan Candappa – Part Two: With Rohan C, 24 July 2018

In contrast with a very enjoyable day, the day before, at Lord’s with Ian Theodoreson…

Two Sweltering Days At Lord’s, The First With Ian Theodoreson, The Second With Rohan Candappa – Part One: With Ian T, 23 July 2018

…another very enjoyable day at Lord’s, this time with Rohan Candappa.

The contrast, in truth, is that Ian is a cricket lover who found the idea of meeting up at Lord’s especially enticing, whereas Rohan isn’t particularly keen on cricket, but we wanted to meet up for lunch that day and there are far worse places for lunch and a chat than a county championship day at Lord’s.

Ahead of the day, I was a bit concerned about Rohan – one of life’s natural comedians and rebels – rising to the challenge of the pavilion dress code. So I sent Rohan a link to the code and left him to it.

I wondered whether his eye might fall on the “national dress” exception to the jacket and tie rule. Rohan could (just about) claim to be Burmese and turn up in a longyi with hnyat-phanat. Mind you, given the sweltering weather, I wouldn’t have minded sporting a longyi with hnyat-phanat myself, and do still have a range of such garments in my collection:

Me and my longyi (wrap)…and hnyat-phanat (flip-flops), Burma, 1998

More worrying, was the thought that Rohan might don “THE” jacket, as opposed to a jacket. When Rohan took his wonderful one-man show, How I Said ‘F*** You’ To The Company When They Tried to Make Me Redundant, to Edinburgh last year, he promoted his show by walking around that elegant city thus:

Technically compliant jacket for the pavilion?

Actually, Rohan turned up in a fine linen number not dissimilar to my own. We must have looked like Our Men In Havana…or, given the extensive Moncada Barracks references in Rohan’s “F*** You” show, Our Men In Santiago de Cuba.

I recalled, while waiting for Rohan, that he had written a rather scathing short piece about gap years and their dilution through ubiquity, in his book University Challenged…

…and wondered what Rohan would make of Ian and Sally’s mature gap year. Then, when Rohan arrived, I clean forgot to raise that point with Rohan. Perhaps Rohan will chime in about that latterly.

Rohan and I are old mates from Alleyn’s School. In the couple of days leading up to our meeting at Lord’s, I trawled the diaries for sporting references to Rohan, but only could find one, relating to fives, previously Ogblogged:

A Marathon Day Of Court Sport; Fives and Fridge Ball, 4 December 1974

But I did also uncover a couple of previously unreported gems of my own from that trawl, including my first ever visit to a professional soccer football match, which I immediately Ogblogged:

My “First Soccer Match”, Chelsea v Middlesbrough, 22 March 1975

…plus references to my own (previously forgotten) glories playing field hockey that same term, plus my cricketing annus mirabilis (or should I say terminus ludum mirabilis?) the following term, both of which I shall aim to Ogblog very soon.

But I should be honest about me, Rohan and sport. I don’t think either of us will be remembered at Alleyn’s for our sporting prowess. Enthusiasm and willingness to muck in with sport?; possibly. Enjoyment of the competition without taking sport (or indeed most things) too seriously?; I hope so. But prowess?

Whoops – did someone speak out of turn to Rohan Candappa?

Anyway, so there I was, in the Lord’s Long Room, cricket’s holy-of-holies, with Rohan. We watched briefly in there (he’ll need to be able to say that he has done that; watched first class cricket from the Long Room) but soon moved outdoors to backache central – the pavilion benches, on the shady side of the pavilion.

We discussed ancient matters of sporting derring-do (or lack thereof). We agreed that we secretly resented those boys who were not only exceptional at sport but also exceptional at chess/academic stuff and who were also good blokes. I think we agreed that we are almost (but not quite) over that now.

In some ways the next few hours resembled my previous day with Ian T; Rohan and I similarly stuck to water and some cashew nuts ahead of a late lunch in the Long Room Bar. Today’s bap was beef rather than pork (also top notch). I perhaps made the mistake of having a glass of red rather than white today.

Rohan needed to get away a little earlier than Ian had needed to; he is busy preparing for this year’s Edinburgh show, which I saw in pilot last autumn, coincidentally only a few hundred yards away from Lord’s…

What Listening To 10,000 Love Songs Has Taught Me About Love by Rohan Candappa, Cockpit Theatre, 31 October 2017

…so we rather sped our way through the post-lunch pavilion tour, view from the top deck and then some views from the rest of the ground. I showed Rohan the “front of the Lower Compton” view that I often enjoy for test matches, which shows the pavilion in all its splendour. Rohan commented that his late father would have very much enjoyed such a day at Lord’s.

So, despite the match building up to what seemed likely to be a dramatic climax, Rohan left just before tea. What some people will do for their art. Click here or the photo below for details of that excellent one-man show that Rohan is taking to Edinburgh, btw:

Rohan’s one man shows are good…very good. This photo from Edinburgh 2017

I sat in the Warner Stand for a few minutes, when a wave of excess heat and fatigue hit me. I rather regretted the glass of red and even considered going home to hide from the hottest part of the day. But instead I steeled myself and returned to the pavilion top deck, seeking a little breeze and the opportunity to see a potentially exciting ending.

Well it sure was exciting. Click here for the scorecard and all the Cricinfo resources on the match.

I chatted with a couple of regulars up on the top deck. Then, when the final wicket just wouldn’t come, I decided to decamp to the Long Room in the hope of inducing that final wicket and witnessing the end of match ceremony from there…

…well that did sort-of happen, but not before a further 45 or so agonising minutes had passed. I ran into one of my real tennis friends in the Long Room, who was giving an old pal of his, who lives in Dubai, the Lord’s experience for the first time. We discussed, amongst other things, cricket, politics in Pakistan and where the twain meet in the form of Imran Khan.

After witnessing the Middlesex win, we decamped to the real tennis area, where I had left my kit for safe-keeping. The other two stuck around for only 5 minutes, but I watched a rather good set of doubles while the crowds and the rush hour died down, before hailing an Uber and stepping out into the sunshine once again.

While waiting, I saw an elderly gentleman, whom I recognised, keel over while sitting on one of the benches in the shade. A member of catering staff went to his aid immediately and, once I had seen his condition at closer quarters, I told her that I thought it was serious and that we should summon medical help straight away, The staff and stewards sprung into action very rapidly, summoning a para-medic and an ambulance, at which point I thought my presence was superfluous (I am not a first-aider) so I retreated. My cab arrived just moments before the ambulance – very impressive speed from call to arrival – must have been well under 10 minutes.

The gentleman, who did not survive despite the rapid attention, was J T Murray, a great Middlesex wicket-keeper from before my time – his last playing season was, coincidentally, my 1975 annus mirabilis. JT was a regular supporter at Lord’s in the years that I have been going to Middlesex matches. A sad end to my two days at Lord’s in some ways…

…but not in others. A great former sportsman died peacefully, in his 80s, just after witnessing an exciting finish in which his beloved Middlesex team won a fine match against the odds.

The bittersweet irony of that ending won’t be wasted on most readers; it certainly won’t be wasted on Rohan.

Two Sweltering Days At Lord’s, The First With Ian Theodoreson, The Second With Rohan Candappa – Part One: With Ian T, 23 July 2018

The wrong Sidebottom?

“You could have said no”, said Daisy, as I prepared to leave Noddyland ridiculously early on a non-working day, with reference to the 9:00 game of real tennis I had agreed to play as a late substitute, in addition to my 10:00 game. “Two hours of singles on the hottest day of the year is not a very bright idea”.

“I’ll drink plenty of water,” I mumbled.

Two challenging hours they proved to be; one against a newbie whose handicap has clearly not yet settled in its firmament way beyond my level, then my anticipated hour against a familiar adversary with whom I tend to have very close battles. Today was a very tight battle until the last 15-20 minutes which went resoundingly his way. The experience probably did more for my strength and conditioning for tournament play than it did for my confidence.

My guest for the cricket today was Ian “Iain Spellright” Theodoreson, whose previous visit to Lord’s with me had been the historic Jimmy Anderson 500 day – Day Two of the West Indies Test last year:

Three Days At The Lord’s Test, England v West Indies, 7 to 9 September 2017

Soon after that 2017 visit, Ian gave up full time work and disappeared for a gap year with his good lady, Sally. I love the rationale behind the Ian and Sally gap year; such things had barely been invented when we were younger (or rather, they were beyond the means of most), whereas their kids had taken gap years before starting formal work; why shouldn’t Ian and Sally have a gap year when concluding their formal careers?

Anyway, they went to New Zealand, then Japan and then – or should I say, at the time of writing, now – the canals of England. This adventure, which Ian and Sally have almost completed, they are blogging as Living In Hope…

…not to be confused with The Rutles classic, Living In Hope:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZIQKn2Adfk

…here and below are sample postings from Ian and Sally’s Living In Hope:

Blue apples and heated toilet seats

So Ian thought he had his work cut out pulling together suitable attire for the pavilion, given that his former life possessions are mostly in crates…

…except that, being Ian, he had kept one business suit and tie accessible for “just in case” – and this was such a case.

More challenging, for me, was the space in the pavilion guest book where the member records the visitor’s address. I have often wondered whether anyone ever pays heed to this box, which is often filled in with only the scantiest details…

…indeed I would question its GDPR compliance these days – organisations are not supposed to record personal details they don’t need…

…anyway, I merely wrote “canal boat” as the address in the book, so I am living in hope that no-one hauls me over the coals for some rule breach or another; not least the rule that says “though shalt not bring persons of no fixed abode into the pavilion as guests”.

Ian had never been in the pavilion before, which surprised me as I know he has quite a few MCC members in his circle. Still, this gave me an opportunity to give him an informal guided tour and witness a cricket lover taking great pleasure in watching cricket from the inner sanctum that is the Lord’s pavilion.

Ian was a little disappointed, though, with Ryan Sidebottom. He was expecting a hairy Yorkshireman who used to play for England, not a tidy-looking Victorian who used to play for Victoria.

So, to please Ian and Ryan Sidebottom fans generally, here are two short vids of recently-retired Yorkshireman Ryan Sidebottom’s biggest moment; his hat trick against New Zealand in 2008 – a “language-strewn” hand-held shot of the moment (which I have discovered on YouTube) follows:

The second of these vids is one of the most absurd/extraordinary stop-frame animation films I have ever seen – by Are You A Left-Arm Chinaman? – the Ryan Sidebottom hat-trick starts around 3:30 and is well worth waiting for or sliding the dial towards:

But I digress.

Dewey-eyed I was, as we stood up soon after the umpires called lunch; not with emotion you understand, but two hours of tennis followed by those rump-racking pavilion benches was telling its toll.

Actually we decided to stick around that pavilion spot and continue munching cashews and taking on water, until about twenty minutes after lunch, by which time there is usually room to sit reasonably comfortably in the long room bar and take some proper lunch. Bap of the day was a wonderful pork jobbie with crackling and a sort-of sausage meat stuffing to add to the general porkiness. I had a glass of white while Ian opted for a beer.

After lunch, Ian fancied trying the new Warner Stand, where the seats are far more comfy than the pavilion and the view is still very good. Then, come tea-time, we returned to the pavilion, enabling me to conclude Ian’s guided tour of the pavilion with the upstairs bits, ending up on the top deck, where we enjoyed a cuppa and a breeze to provide slight relief from the heat of the day.

Ian needed to leave an hour or so before stumps, whereas I fancied seeing that last hour of cricket, so we parted company at the pavilion door – I decided to watch the last hour from the comfort of the Warner Stand seats.

It had been really pleasant to catch up with Ian over lunch and cricket; not least because chatting about some of his gap year experiences added an element of colour that no blog (not even Ogblog) can provide.

When I got to the Warner Stand, I spotted Ed Griffiths watching solo and asked him if he minded me joining him. He didn’t. I hadn’t really watched cricket with him before, despite having spent a fair amount of time with him, not least over the London Cricket Trust initiative. While it was very interesting to watch and discuss cricket together, unfortunately Middlesex’s improving position went into reverse while we were watching together, leaving matters seeming very precarious overnight.

Here is a link to the scorecard for the whole match; the denouement was destined to play out on Day Three, most of which I was to spend with Rohan Candappa – a link to that day can be found here and below:

Two Sweltering Days At Lord’s, The First With Ian Theodoreson, The Second With Rohan Candappa – Part Two: With Rohan C, 24 July 2018

Bad Hair Afternoon: Tennis Followed By Middlesex v Somerset, 19 July 2018

Since Jez Horne left Z/Yen, he and I have a rather shocking record of planning to meet up for a T20 match at Lord’s on a day that turns out to be rainy.

We expected no such problem in this glorious summer of 2018 and, as luck would have it, Jez was available on one of the few T20 evenings I can manage this season.

I arranged to play tennis at 15:00, giving me plenty of time to sauna, shower, spruce myself up and bagsy some good pavilion seats.

My opponent for the afternoon, Bill Taylor, is one of my favourite adversaries; although I tend to come off second best against him, we nearly always have an epic battle along the way.

We had an exceptionally good first set, which took almost the whole hour. Playing level, the pesky ninth game went to deuce upon deuce upon deuce…

…upon deuce…you get the idea. But in the end Bill prevailed, both in that game and then the set and match.

I took my time over warming down and my ablutions. As I was just preparing to leave the changing room, John Stephenson (MCC Director of Cricket) and Guy Lavender (the new MCC Chief Executive) emerged from one of the squash courts. They were discussing the pavilion dress code and the practicalities around the “jackets allowed off in hot weather” rule.

I was putting the finishing touches on my tie, jacket and general pavilion aesthetic look when, horror of horrors, I realised that I had come out without a comb in my linen suit’s jacket pocket and had used a kit bag that also lacks one of my emergency combs.

My hair probably looked a little like the following photo, taken at the end of a victorious tennis skills night eighteen months ago…

…perhaps a little worse when combined with a jacket and tie.

“Just as well you don’t have a bad hair rule for the pavilion”, I said “I have come out without a comb”.

“No we don’t, but don’t worry, there will be a bad hair rule in time for your next visit”, said Guy with a smile.

It reminded me a little of my interaction with Ian Lovett over Daisy’s embarrassing pavilion socks-for-gloves-donning incident several years ago, explained towards the end of my report on King Cricket here and below:

Middlesex v Australians match report

“My next visit will be on Monday”, I said.

Guy’s smile widened a little forcedly, as if to say, “…and your point is?…”

“I’ll bring a comb,” I conceded. Need to stay on the right side of the new Chief Exec, I thought.

Jez is not exactly the sartorial type…he used to hang out with Barmy Kev for gawd’s sake…so I didn’t need to make any any excuses or explanations to him. He seemed pleased with my choice of “right up front” seat.

As always, it was good to catch up with Jez. He and his burgeoning family have recently relocated to…

…coincidentally given my visit a couple of days earlier…

A Day Out In Sussex: Petworth, Then Hove, 17 July 2018

…Hove.

We chatted about cricket. We chatted a bit about work. We chatted about…

…trigger warning…

…geeky statistics, operational research and machine learning stuff.

We both brought nibbles of the “old style Z/Yen gathering” variety with us – in my case parcel-type bites from M&S, in Jez’s case from Sainsbury. I had brought a mini bottle (250 ml) of Sancerre for myself – that should last the evening on a warm night; Jez managed a few bottles of quality beer. I remember Badger and Theakstons Old Peculiar as two of the labels.

We watched Middlesex start well with the bat, seem to get bogged down, finish better, then watched Somerset do all that with quite a bit more purpose than Middlesex.

Pain junkies (Middlesex) and glory seekers (Somerset) click here for all the details.

Still, we had a very pleasant evening together, parting company at Marylebone.

Lunch At Lord’s With No Cricket Yet Unexpectedly With A Cricket, 18 July 2018

To Lord’s for luncheon in the Tavern with Richard Goatley, Rob Lynch, Escamillo Escapillo and PD.

Not a match day, this, but a chance for a bite and to show PD around the ground.

After lunch, a quick look at the real tennis (naturally) and then, despite the fact that there was no cricket on that day, the pavilion.

In the committee room, I found this little fella occupying a seat normally reserved for a visiting dignitary or, on the rare occasions she visits, Her Maj ERII.

King Cricket relishes pieces on animals displaying conspicuous indifference to cricket. I thought this image was an interesting variation on that theme. King Cricket clearly agreed, publishing the following piece in December 2018:

A cricket being conspicuously indifferent to the Home of Cricket

If anything ever happens to the King Cricket site, here is a scrape of the above piece.

We enjoyed a pleasant wander around many other parts of the ground, including the indoor academy, where Escamillo Escapillo and I got PD interested in the idea of having a go by recounting some of our tales of derring-do at that place…

Lord’s Indoor School match report

…and here is a scrape of the indoor school piece...

…plus my own extremely special experience there, witnessed by Sir Garfield Sobers, thanks to the very Richard Goatley with whom we had just had lunch:

The Day Garfield Sobers Watched Me & Z/Yen Play Cricket, Lord’s, 30 June 2009

Anyway, the upshot of that extremely pleasant afternoon, some months later (March 2019), appears to be this – click here. (Or, if anything ever befalls the Middlesex CCC site, click here instead.)

A Day Out In Sussex: Petworth, Then Hove, 17 July 2018

The New Petworth Tennis Mural

One of the very good things about real tennis is the extent to which it seems to be a community of enthusiasts. To such an extent that, when you meet and play realists from other clubs – as often you do at Lord’s – they seem keen to welcome you at their places.

Example: back in the winter, I played at Lord’s against Mark Bradshaw, a member at Petworth, who has quite recently taken up the sport more seriously having only dabbled previously – rackets was more his game. Mark said, after our good game, that Petworth was being refurbished at the moment but that he would like me to visit for a game once the refurb was done. I said I would very much like to do that.

I thought little of the matter again until I received, in the spring, out of the blue, a kind e-mail from Mark reminding me of our conversation and wondering whether I really was interested. The suggested timing, as it happened, worked out well for Janie, so we hatched a plan to go to both Petworth and Hove in a day, so we might visit Sidney and Joan later.

The plan soon became a reality. Janie and I half-planned to get to Petworth early enough to have a look at the gardens of the old house as well, but by the time we found the tennis court entrance (the postcode sent Waze and therefore me to the wrong entrance)…

…and then spent some time with a few of the charming Petworth Club members who showed us their mural (above) and the spelling challenges they faced with the donations board (below)…

…we realised that a more realistic pastime ahead of my tennis match would be a wander around the village and the purchase of a plant or flowers for Sidney and Joan.

Petworth has plenty of art galleries and arty shops. Janie spotted some rather tasteful hand-blown coloured tumblers that she fancied as water glasses. By the time we had completed the non-trivial task of choosing each of the six she wanted – each was a different colour and had a different amount of bubbling-effect – it was time to move on to the next non-trivial task; choosing a plant or flowers for Sidney and Joan:

Choosing that splendid plant wasn’t as easy as it looks

Then back to the Petworth Real Tennis Club:

It seems like a really friendly club. John Ritblat was one of the main movers and shakers in achieving the major refurb, which includes modern changing rooms and a charming kitchen and breakout area. The people who had been playing before us had brought a picnic lunch with them and were enjoying a convivial post-play repast while we played.

I found the Petworth surface very difficult to come to terms with in the first set, but made a bit more of a fist of it in the second.

Mark has come on leaps and bounds since we last played; his rackets background making him wicked fast around the court and able to get most balls, good or bad ones, back. My problems getting used to the surfaces were multiplied by his technique, in which he boasts the ball of multiple walls quite regularly.

Janie has a strange knack of shooting a little bit of video on points that I tend win. She very rarely captures one of my many losing points. She doesn’t delete stuff from the gizmo at the time; it’s just a strange statistical thing. So I can safely ascertain that I would win all my matches if she videoed all of them in their entirety. Perhaps I should kit her out with a proper video camera and have her with me for all my games…

…anyway, the match didn’t go my way at Petworth but we did get a good game in the end; the second set was tight.

Then lunch. Mark and Henrietta recommended The Hungry Guest which was indeed an excellent choice.

Mark certainly looks happy with his choice…

It is a glorious summer this year; the opportunity to eat and chat al fresco on occasions such as this is one not to be missed.

In fact, we ate and chatted so fervently, that we all lost track of time. Mark then suddenly realised the time and we hurriedly said our goodbyes to enable him to get to a 16:00 appointment.

Meanwhile Janie and I worked out that we really didn’t have time to take in the Petworth Gardens on this visit, so we had a coffee and mellowed out before hitting the road to Hove, for a family visit, privately Ogblogged.

Caution: This Restaurant Might Contain Nuts, Dinner At Sanzio With Kim & Micky, 13 July 2018

After a morning’s work, I played tennis and then drove out to Noddyland for the rest of the afternoon. Janie went over to Kim’s to do some gardening or what-have-you, while I followed the Wimbledon tennis quite avidly:

Clarke & Dart v Murray & Azarenka (short and a bit disappointing);
Draper v Mejia (boys semi – absolutely compelling to watch);
Isner v Anderson (almost failed to resolve until after I left for the restaurant).

Here is a link to the Wimbledon results for that day.

Meanwhile Janie called me to instruct the closing of windows about 5 minutes after I had closed all the windows. It was already bucketing down in “The Suburb” whereas in Noddyland it was just starting to look ominous.

In fact, I got to the Uber while it was still just spitting, but by the time we got 100 yards down the road it was proper rain and by the time we got to Gypsy Corner there were surface water flash floods starting.

Anyway, I got to Sanzio eventually.

Micky and Kim were on good form. Janie and I both ended up eating the same dishes; calamari followed by a veal and mash dish.

For afters, I fancied ice cream. The gelato of the day was nougat. I asked what type of nuts were in the nougat (due to my walnut allergy), which kicked off a precautionary sequence of events, even when I relented to a simple choice of vanilla and chocolate.

“Out ice cream might contain traces of nut”, I was told. I explained that my allergy is mild and that I have no concerns about “might contain traces of nut” warnings…

…at which point Kim told the waitress that she should get me to sign a disclaimer…

…which the waitress duly produced and indeed insisted that I should sign.

This was all done in a gentle and friendly spirit…

With thanks to the waitress for taking the picture

…but I’m pretty sure that I’d have had no pudding without the form filling. I considered explaining that I am very allergic to form filling…

…but in the end decided that I wanted my ice cream.

I think that covered the necessary waiver comprehensively.

Readers of a nervous disposition will be delighted to learn that I suffered no ill effects from eating the ice cream.

It was a fun evening with Kim and Micky. The staff at the restaurant are very charming and friendly, which more than makes up for the quirky aspects.

Wimbledon Ladies’ Semi-Finals Day On Centre Court, 12 July 2018

We thought we’d failed to get tickets in the Wimbledon ballot this year. Janie and I had heard from several people that they or their loved ones had secured something. Odds are that you miss out more often than not, so we thought that was that.

But I suppose that most of the seats that come up in the public ballot are week one seats and that Wimbledon send out the week two letters the following week.

So, a few days after we had agreed that 2018 had been a miss, Janie announced that an envelope had just arrived from Wimbledon and that she’d let me open it.

OMG, we’ve got centre court tickets for Ladies’ Semi-Finals Day.

Janie was so excited; in truth we were both very excited.

A few weeks later the tickets themselves came through and turned out to be very good ones – Row F; near to commentary boxes and the Royal Box – just over our right shoulders above us.

Janie actually has a superb record with the Wimbledon public ballot: it is only a couple of years since our previous success…

A Day at Wimbledon, No.1 Court, First Friday, 1 July 2016

…but second Thursday felt almost like hitting the jackpot.

I took on picnic duties again (that kinda makes sense for midweek Wimbledon), producing smoked salmon in poppy-seed bagels and prosciutto muffins as the centre-pieces for centre court. A Single Estate Villa Maria Sauv Blanc and an Aussie “Daydream” Pinot Noir (the latter partly surviving for another day).

I studied the order of play carefully when it came through and suggested that we aim to get to Wimbledon early enough to catch a little bit of juniors action on one of the larger outer courts before the main event.

We plugged for Court 18, where a couple of girls with similar rankings, Xiyu Wang & Cori Gauff, were doing battle:

Gauff, who looked like Venus Williams’s mini-me in style of play and demeanour, took the first set and was well up in the second, before Xiyu Wang started to turn the match around.

Don’t confuse Xiyu Wang with her doubles partner, Xinyu Wang. That would be foolish of you. Also don’t assume that they must be sisters. They were born about 6 months apart which made the “must be sisters” theory bite the dust, unless an awful lot of artificial intervention was involved. The Wang pair went on to win the girls doubles title, while Cori Gauff, who turned out to be only 14 years old, really is a rising star, so remember where you heard these names first.

Janie took stacks of photos btw – here (and the picture below) is a link to the Flickr album if lots of photos is your thing:

At the end of the second set on Court 18, we decided it was time to freshen up and progress to centre court in good time for the first semi-final.

Janie’s choices of photographers from the crowd was somewhat flawed. The first lady had the shakes so much that her efforts were very blurry indeed. Then one person somehow pressed the video button for a few seconds rather than the simple shutter release. It sort-of looks like one of those Harry Potter photos:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmyJiZBh_IM

Younger people in the crowd wanted nothing to do with having people take pictures for them – it is all about selfies and selfie-sticks these days – so my offers reciprocally to take pictures were rejected.

We chatted with a very nice lady next to us, Carolyn, and her friend, Deana, who had come all the way from Yorkshire for the tennis. They helped Janie do some celebrity spotting in the neighbouring Royal Box.

Janie spotted Cliff enjoying the privacy of the Royal Box

We enjoyed some snacks and a glass of wine.Why were we here? Oh yes, tennis. Here come some players:

Ostopenko came out all guns blazing, but that is not usually the way to best Kerber and so it proved that day:

We had time to eat our smoked salmon in poppy seed bagels during that match; just about.

Next up: Serena Williams against Julia Goerges. We’d never seen Serena play live before, although we have seen Venus more than once at Wimbledon.

…Serena powered her way through the match; Julia seemed overawed…

A Wimbledon summary vid shows some glimpses here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaXv5f3_QiA

In truth the semi-finals had been short and one-sided, but there was plenty of entertainment to come. I went for a leg-stretching stroll at that juncture, having been assured by a steward that the mixed doubles was at least 20-25 minutes away. So I leg-stretched for that period of time, looking at one or two outer courts and chatting idly with one of the volunteer stewards there.

On my return, the mixed doubles quarter final had started. Mercifully Janie had taken some snaps of the players arriving and starting. It was a young British pair; Jay Clarke & Harriet Dart, taking on a far more experienced, seeded pair – Juan Sebastian Cabal and Abigail Spears. The thing is, though, that no-one seemed able to tell these youngsters that they weren’t supposed to beat the more experienced players.

Jay’s entourage to the right – dad Errol just visible (and more audible)

A semi-final place – very promising signs from young Clarke and Dart. I was impressed especially by Clarke in the days and weeks leading up to our visit but on the day I was especially impressed by Dart, who looks a very natural doubles player. Jay Clarke might go on to excel at either singles or doubles or even both; at 19 he seems a very complete player already.

Towards the end of the mixed doubles, the seats vacated by a rather grumpy couple in front of us were taken up by a very friendly couple who had come from Bristol to see the Court One action and were thrilled to have managed to grab a couple of £10 end of day returns to get to see some action on the Centre Court.

All three fixtures so far had been quite short matches, so the authorities laid on some entertainment for us in the form of a bonus match; Gentlemen’s Invitation Doubles. The couple in front of us were thrilled to get to see an extra match; she described it as a dream come true.

Mark Philippoussis and Tommy Haas both still look well fit

Sebastian Grosjean and Fernando Gonzalez not so much

Many years ago some kids in the park mistook me for Sebastian Grosjean while I was playing with Janie. I had no beard in those days and Grosjean did sport a bandana in a similar style to mine if I recall correctly. Back then, the tennis comparison seemed absurd, but now, looking at a chunkier, less agile Grosjean, I’m not sure whether either of us should be flattered by that comparison.

Anyway, the guys played some fun tennis; mostly clowning around but some exhibition quality shots too, with the result never in doubt. Entertaining tennis was the winner.

Here is a link to the day’s results in full.

Heck, we had a lovely day, as always when we go to Wimbledon. It wasn’t the most competitive day we have ever seen, nor was it one of the better days of this year’s championships, tournament-wise. But such a day at Wimbledon is very special indeed and we feel very lucky and privileged to have been able to enjoy it.

A Day Of Coincidences At Lord’s And The Wigmore Hall, 6 July 2018

Several coincidences today, all revolving around a certain Mr John Thirlwell. Let me explain.

John plays real tennis at Lord’s. He and I have previous:

MCC v The Dedanists’ Society, Lord’s, 10 February 2018

I turned up to play him in the morning. On arrival he greets me with the phrase:

I ran into someone who knows you the other day. Knows you from the gym or something. When real tennis came up in the conversation, he asked if I knew you.

But the really strange coincidence about that encounter was that, John told me, it was at Grace Road, Leicester, at a Cricket Society bash…

…do you mean day two of the Leicestershire v Middlesex match?…

…I asked, explaining that I was actually in the next room (the Committee Room) all day while they were in the function suites:

Three Days In Leicester Mostly For Cricket, 20 to 22 June 2018

Yes. Now that IS a weird coincidence.

John and I fought out a tough, some would say bitter, battle, which ended in a draw, once the nonagenarians, who were next on court, separated us combatants who, by that time, were (naturally) screaming, punching, wrestling and biting. It’s a gentleman’s game, real tennis. In fact, I stayed on for the nonagenarian doubles that day and almost managed to keep up with the oppo for an additional hour.

Later that day, once I had recovered from two hours of combat (and done a spot of work), Janie and I took dinner at Delamina in Marylebone, ahead of a rather unusual-looking late night concert at the Wigmore Hall.

We thought the food in Delamina was superb – I had a seriously posh kofta dish while Janie had a seriously posh take on turkey shawarma – but the place was very noisy on a Friday evening and the service, while admittedly delivered by universally sweet staff, was poor.

We stretched our legs and got a chance to have a conversation that we both could hear, by walking the long way round to the Wigmore Hall. While strolling, I told Janie about the strange coincidence that John Thirlwell (whom she had met at the Middlesex University Real Tennis match) had been in the next room to me all day at Leicester.

Before entering the concert hall itself, I popped to the Wigmore Hall loo. There I saw a gentleman who looked remarkably like John Thirlwell. No, he wasn’t a gentleman who looked a lot like John Thirlwell; it WAS John Thirlwell.

“This is bonkers”, I said, “you’re blooming everywhere” – to which John could only smile and agree. Thus Janie and I chatted with John and his charming companion Maggie before and briefly after the concert. John is not a Wigmore Hall regular – he had simply seen this concert listed and thought it looked interesting and different.

I often say that Lord’s and the Wigmore Hall are the last remaining places where I get addressed as “young man”. I wonder whether that sort of thing was the causal link for John Thirlwell visiting both places on the same day as me. Joking apart about fierce combat; it turns out that John is actually jolly good company, both on the tennis court (which I knew already) and also in the concert hall.

Anyway, the concert was the David Orlowsky Trio, described as jazz meets world music meets klezmer – click here for the Wigmore Hall resource on the concert.

Click here for a general link to resources on The David Orlowsky Trio.

Here’s a snippet from a promo for an early album:

Here is one from a collaboration with Avi Avatal, whom we saw saw at one of these Wigmore Hall late concerts last year:

Avital Meets Avital, Wigmore Hall Lates, 23 June 2017

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLo-NQsIvVU

A collaboration much like the fusions in Delamina’s food, now I come to think of it.

Here is one of the pieces, from the latest David Orlowsky Trio album, which they played for us at the Wig:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jrDBrUkv0Qw

Or try this tiddler, which the Wig used to promote the concert we attended:

We thought the music was wonderful fun; a mixture of smooth jazz and the sort of dance rhythms that central and eastern European music does so well, not least when klezmerised.

Janie and I sat next to an aficionado of the group who told us, sadly, that the trio is due to split soon after a mere 20 years together. Perhaps they feel it is time to pursue other projects. They are all virtuoso musicians; David Orlowsky himself utterly exceptional on the clarinet but really all three were excellent.

Quite a day; I hope John Thrilwell enjoyed his day as much as I enjoyed mine.

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