Welcome To 3BJ, The First Three Weeks Of My Third Year At Alleyn’s, Ending With My First Sighting Of Fawlty Towers, 7 to 27 September 1975

Mike Jones ponders our imminent arrival in his class – thanks Mike for the photo

I’ve been finding it difficult to start writing up my third year at Alleyn’s; 1975/1976. My diary for the 1974/1975 academic year was full of juicy details of my activities.

But it seems, after all the excitement of my 1975 summer, I returned to school in September 1975 in a different mood – at least in the matter of keeping my diary. I’m needing to rely more on my fading memory for this period of my life and hope for some informed comment from readers.

For example, whereas I wrote down the “cast list” for my 1S and 2AK years, I had “grown out of” doing that by the 3BJ era – which is a blithering shame.

Also, I think I was under the parental…by which I mean maternal…cosh, having made a mess of my year end exams that summer and finding myself in a B stream class. “Get the back up to the A stream,” was the familial message, with some new rules at home to encourage homework and discourage loafing.

You wouldn’t have messed with my mum either. Cruel spectacles.

I’m not convinced that sparse diarising was entirely necessary in my mission to do better at school that year. But the diarising was more sparse and the school results were better.

Here are the first three weeks of September:

I realise that most of that is beyond legibility and/or interpretation, so here goes with my best efforts.

Sunday, 7 September 1975 – Rosh Hashanah [Jewish New Year, day two in this instance].

Monday, 8 September 1975 – uneventful day.

Tuesday, 9 September 1975 – last day [of school holidays. Not the end of the world.] Stuart and Andy [both from our street – Stuart Harris was not a relation and was a Whitgiftian, Andy Levinson was a fellow Alleyn’s pupil].

Wednesday, 10 September 1975 – first day [of school]. 3BJ. Mr Jones.

Thursday, 11 September 1975–1st proper day at school.

Friday, 12 September 1975 – school good. TV Dad’s Army, Liver Birds.

Saturday, 13 September 1975 – school morn. After library. TV Gambit, Dick Emery, Kojak.

Sunday, 14 September 1975 – Kol Nidre [evening prayers to herald the Day of Atonement] in evening.

Monday, 15 September 1975 – Yom Kippur [Day of Atonement].

Tuesday, 16 September 1975 – catching up only today.

Wednesday, 17 September 1975 – uneventful day. Good results school.

Thursday, 18 September 1975 – more good results. TV $6 million man, Two Ronnies, Man About The House.

Friday, 19 September 1975 – uneventful day. TV Dad’s Army, Liver Birds, Stanley Baxter III.

Saturday, 20 September 1975 – school morning. TV Generation Game.

Sunday, 21 September 1975 – no classes. Dined at Feld’s. TV Upstairs Downstairs.

Monday, 22 September 1975 – school OK. TV Goodies, Angels, Waltons etc.

Tuesday, 23 September 1975 – did swimming good. Telepathy. TV Pink Panther

Wednesday, 24 September 1975 – swimming. Went to Aviv meeting [one of mum’s charities. I cannot imagine why I went with her, unless dad had something on that evening and mum didn’t want to fork out for a sitter!].

Thursday, 25 September 1975. Got CCF [Combined Cadet Force] kit. TV Two Ronnies, Man About The House, Morecombe & Wise.

Friday 26 September 1975 – uneventful. TV Invisible Man, Dad’s Army, Liver Birds, Fosters Tower [sic – that can only be Fawlty Towers]

Saturday, 27 September 1975 – school morning. TV Dick Emery, Kojak.

Hard to believe that I didn’t even register the name Fawlty Towers correctly when I first saw it.

It was the episode about The Builders and I remember it tickling me no end. My parents didn’t like it much. Dad found Basil Fawlty irritating, reminding him of some of the twerps he had to deal with in running his business. You can decide for yourselves, if you hadn’t made up your minds already – see embed below.

An Uneventful Week (Apart From Watching The Test) Before Starting My Third Year At Alleyn’s, 1 to 6 September 1975

So much wrong with that technique – but the enthusiasm is there for all to see

After all the excitement of my summer, I went into a very subdued diary mood for some weeks/months after our return.

This diary page, which covers the week between returning from Europe and school restarting, sets the tone.

It barely needs transcribing, but I am a diligent transcriber:

Monday, 1 September 1975 settled in. Watched test. Went to library. [TV] Angels, The High Chaparral.

Tuesday, 2 August 1975 – uneventful day. TV Tarzan, New York, Quo Vadis.

Wednesday, 3 August 1975 – uneventful

Thursday, 4 September 1975 – uneventful

Friday, 5 September 1975 – uneventful

Saturday, 6 September 1975 – Rosh Hashanah [Jewish New Year].

I think we need to do some more forensics on that cricket photo. Here’s a link to the test match scorecard. The umpires were Tom Spencer and Dickie Bird (whom I had the honour and pleasure to meet once – some 40 years after the events of this piece):

I’m 98% sure that the umpire on the TV screen is Tom Spencer and I’m 100% sure that the wicket-keeper was Rod Marsh, who kept all day that Monday.

The unmistakable stoopy stance of Umpire Spencer on the TV screen.

But who batting? Yes, me, obviously, in front of the screen. I mean on the screen. I have narrowed it down to being John Snow or Barry Wood and I think the answer is John Snow. Cricket lovers – chime in with your thoughts.

It was an unusual match, as they had put aside six days for that Oval test match, used all six but still ended up with a draw.

I sense that even I lost interest after a burst of watching (and having my photo taken), probably quite early on the Monday.

Anyone know what game this is/was?

As an only child, one of my favourite pastimes was working out how to play solitaire versions of the board games in my collection. I have no idea what this game was, let alone how I had worked out a solitaire version of it. My favourite solitaire game was my very own version of Cluedo – the conceit of the solitaire version is long-since forgotten but I remember being fascinated by it for some while.

I suspect that the test match was on the TV while I was indulging in this additional activity. In that respect, I don’t suppose I have changed much, although the additional activity has changed.

As for the TV viewing – I don’t remember the TV drama Angels about student nurses at all. But I certainly remember The High Chaparral. My dad was very keen on it too. Do you fancy getting the theme tune stuck in your head – only click the YouTube embed if you do.

On rehearing The High Chaparral theme, it sounds very much like Joe Meek’s extraordinary instrumental Telstar (famously performed by the Tornados), in the style of Elmer Bernstein’s wonderful theme music for The Magnificent Seven.

I learn, on doing a little further research, that the resemblance between The High Chaparral theme and Telstar has been discussed at length over the decades. One surprising thing, to me, is that I didn’t notice the similarity when Paul Deacon first played me Telstar, which must have been around or very soon after my High Chaparral watching era.

Ironically and tragically, Joe Meek never saw the royalties for Telstar, as a French composer, Jean Ledrut, sued Meek for plagiarism – without success but to some extent understandably – on account of La Marche d’Austerlitz.

Meek died just three weeks before that law suit was found in his favour. Thus he never got a chance to test his own claim against David Rose, who composed The High Chaparral theme, if indeed Meek would have chosen to try such a claim.

Thoughts on these matters will, as always, be much appreciated, whether from my contemporaries or indeed from anyone who stumbles across this page and has a view on any of these topics.

Breaking Up Isn’t Hard To Do: The Last Week Of Term In My 2AK Year At Alleyn’s, 6 to 12 July 1975

Me & Grandma Anne A Few Weeks Later

So much happened in that week, which was the last of my second year at Alleyn’s. Here’s the diary page.

Naturally, readers are already writing in to complain that they cannot read my scribble, even though I haven’t even finished writing up this piece yet. Here’s a transcript:

Sunday, 6 July 1975 – Went to classes. Grandma Anne gave me £100. Great.

Monday, 7 July 1975 – more relaxing. Fives good. TV Sportstown, Star Trek, Waltons, Horizon.

Tuesday, 8 July 1975 – classes good. No bar mitzvah class. Uneventful.

Wednesday, 9 July 1975 – we won cricket. I got a hat-trick and eight runs. TV The Ascent of Man.

Thursday, 10 July 1975 – classes good. Picking up mix-up. TV Jacques Cousteau, Comedy of Marriage.

Friday, 11 July 1975 – broke up from school hurrah. TV Walt Disney, Celebrity Knockout. England flop in first test.

Saturday 12 July 1975 – shule in the morning, Andrew in the afternoon. Aussies dish out more punishment. Susan’s wedding.

£100 was a princely sum in those days. This was my bar mitzvah present. Of course I was allowed nowhere near it – straight into a savings account where it probably ended up making a small but significant contribution to the first deposit I made on a flat nearly a quarter-of-a-century later.

Still, no wonder I have a dreamy expression on my face in the headline photo, which was taken at the bar mitzvah party a few weeks later. I have previously written up one quirky aspect of that party. It was Candappa’s fault, sir…

I have also previously written up my hat trick taking heroics in the cricket at Alleyn’s school. A relatively common topic of my conversation, even 50 years later, when talking about my own cricket playing “career”…because there’s not much else of note to talk about.

The phrase, “broke up from school hurrah” sounds like something out of a Billy Bunter book and doesn’t read like me – but it does indicate my enthusiasm for that Alleyn’s school year to have ended – an annus mirabilis (by my standards) in sport but annus horribilis academically.

I had been eagerly anticipating the opportunity to follow England in the 1975 Ashes. I had not fully engaged with cricket aged 9/10 when Australia had previously visited, in 1972. By 1975, I was a proper cricket-mad youngster.

The remarks “England flop” and “Australia dish out more punishment” read like headlines from tabloid newspapers that I couldn’t possibly have seen. Here’s a link to the scorecard from that first test.

I suspect that I spent more time than was good for me watching that cricketing road crash unfold in slow motion. 50 years later, I realise that my habits, in that regard, have not changed much.

I didn’t much follow popular music back then, but I do recall that Van McCoy’s The Hustle was riding high in the charts that summer and was my earworm around the time we broke up from school.

Can you listen to and watch the following vid without trying some of the moves and getting the whole tune stuck in your head as an earworm? Of course you can’t.

The Day I Took A Hat Trick At Cricket, Alleyn’s School, 9 July 1975

Ascent of Man photo ESO/H. Dahle, CC BY 4.0

On 23 September 2016, I was honoured to witness live Toby Roland-Jones taking a hat-trick for Middlesex, sealing the County Championship for my beloved county – naturally I Ogblogged about it – here

…but that wasn’t the first time I had witnessed a hat-trick live. Indeed, it wasn’t the first time that month, September 2016, that I had witnessed a hat-trick live – I saw Middlesex on the wrong side of one at Trent Bridge, Nottinghamshire – Ogblogged about here – just 17 days before the day of glory…

…but that Trent Bridge one wasn’t the first hat-trick I had witnessed live, although it was the first professional one.

The first hat-trick I witnessed live (and the last one for more than 40 years) was, remarkably, my own.

I don’t have many glorious feats of cricket to report. Let’s be honest about it; I’m not much good at playing cricket. I love it, but I’ve never been much use at it. But on 9 July 1975, the last match of 2AK’s trophy-winning season, I reported with little ceremony in my diary the following:

july-1975-hat-trick

The irony of having watched The Ascent Of Man after such an auspicious sporting achievement is not wasted on me.

I remember the hat-trick remarkably well. I am pretty sure we were playing up on Alleyn’s top fields – not the very top one but the large, “lower top field”. That was mostly used as the second eleven pitch, but for the juniors I recall that field was divided in two, with a couple of strategically located mini-squares, so all four classes could play at the same time.

I can’t remember the name of the master who was umpiring.  I do remember that my first wicket was a clean bowled and the second was a caught and bowled. The master and I then had the following conversation:

“Do you realise that you are on a hat-trick, Mr Harris?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What are you proposing to do about it?”

“I’m going to try and bowl the same ball again, Sir.”

Which I did.

The “same ball” being pretty much my only ball. A moon ball, ludicrously slow, with an attempt at spin on it; probably a bit of top spin but nothing else in its favour other than being straight.

You see, I was very keen, so I used to practice bowling in the back drive against the garage door for ages. I didn’t get much better at bowling, but I was usually at least able to bowl the ball straight in those days.

Clean bowled.

In my memory (undoubtedly a falsy) the master was rolling on the floor laughing when I took the third wicket in three balls. I’m sure he really did laugh, anyway.

9 July 1975, a truly memorable date in (my personal) cricket history. The ill-fated 1975 Ashes series started the very next day; I don’t think this fact is even faintly relevant to my story, but I wanted to write it nonetheless. I can write what I like on Ogblog.

A lot of very good bowlers have played an awful lot of cricket without ever taking a hat-trick. I know that I’m not and wasn’t ever a good bowler. My hat-trick was at a very elementary level and only has significant meaning to me. But it is a memory I have carried with me all my days since and I shall continue to cherish that memory until I am gaga and/or dead.

I wonder who the hat-trick victim was?  That much has slipped my mind completely. His too, almost certainly.

The Production We Didn’t See – Entertaining Mr Sloane by Joe Orton, Duke of York Theatre, Possibly 7 July 1975

Mum sporting cruel spectacles

Michael Lempriere had arranged for our drama class to go and see Entertaining Mr Sloane by Joe Orton. It would have been the mid 1970s Royal Court revival production (probably the West End transfer thereof), with Beryl Reid as Kath, Malcolm McDowell as Sloane, James Ottaway as Kemp and Ronald Fraser as Eddie.

Here is a link to some good resources and reviews of that production.  Good reviews from that source, naturally.  It seems that the Spectator hated it though; a harsh paragraph at the end of a lot of stuff about other productions here.

Anyway, when my mum got wind of it that we were going to see THAT play, she went into high horse mode, for reasons I cannot quite work out. I think she just felt that we were far too young for…whatever it was…not that she really knew anything about it, other than the fact that she probably mentioned it to a friend and that friend looked horrified at the thought. perhaps a sample of two priggish friends.

Mum was probably in a grumpy mood generally at that time – she was in and out of hospital for the first half of that year, culminating in a hip replacement in May. Anyway, she decided not merely to ground me from this one – I might have got away with just minor embarrassment for that. She got on to the school and got the outing cancelled. How un-hip was that?

Several of my drama pals were mightily unimpressed with this, as was I. We were all very disappointed as much as anything else. Michael Lempriere handled the matter with great dignity I’m sure, but that couldn’t prevent the ribbing. In particular, I recall Bob Kelly giving me a hard time; not least suggesting my mother’s physical as well as behavioural similarities with Mary Whitehouse. As my mother had chosen to go down the cruel spectacles line during the mid 1970s (illustrated with a 1977 picture below) this was a difficult charge to deny.

Mum 1977

I’m not entirely sure when the theatre trip that never was should have happened. My diary is silent on the whole matter.  I am guessing it was supposed to be an after exams jolly at the end of my second year, but it might just have been a start of the next academic year jolly for our drama group. If the latter, we didn’t miss out on Ottaway and McDowell, we missed out on  Harry H. Corbett as Ed and Kenneth Cranham as Sloane.

I did eventually get to see a production of this play, but not until January 2001 at the Arts Theatre. My moral compass was not adversely affected by witnessing the play, as far as I can tell, nor was Daisy’s, although we were to be seen sunning ourselves in South-East Asia only a few weeks later…

 

Meeting With Triumph And Disaster At The End Of My 2AK Year At Alleyn’s School

Triumph on the cricket pitch meets disaster in the exam hall

By my mediocre standards as a sportsperson, my second year at Alleyn’s was an annus mirabilis. Actually, the success all seems to have come in a rush in the final term, so it was possibly no more than a terminus mirabilis.

Tony King: “Even yer Latin was pretty shite, Harris!”

No week better sums up the peaks and troughs of that particular period of my school life than the one depicted and described here.

I know, the words need transcribing. Here goes:

Sunday 29 June 1975 – Went to classes sports. Got certificate for second place in the 4 x 80 m relay – very enjoyable time.

Monday 30 June 1975 – the swimming gala. We came ↓ [bottom, presumably]. Getting some [exam] results, some not too good. TV Star Trek, Waltons, Horizon, Anaesthesia.

Tuesday 1 July 1975 – classes good TV

Wednesday, 2 July 1975 – We’ve [2AK] won the cricket league by beating to 2BM 86-80. TV The Ascent of Man

Thursday, 3 July 1975 – uneventful day. Preparation for concert. TV Jacques Cousteau, Comedy of Marriage.

Friday, 4 July 1975 – Day of concert. All went well. On to Grandma Anne. Don [Donald Knipe] kicked up a fuss. 24th in class.

Saturday, 5 July 1975 – had an exeat. Mum in peeve all day. TV Canon, That’s Life.

I cannot believe it. That certificate for coming second in the 4 x 80m relay failed to avoid my mother’s cull of my juvenilia and memorabilia. I do recall it had pride of place with my pile of near-irrelevant certificates for many years.

As for the swimming gala – the “we” in that comment was presumably 2AK. Our year had some cracking good swimmers in it, but, looking at my 2AK names list, we lacked most of not all of our year’s swimming and water polo heroes. Swimming was not one of my strong suits.

I had far less excuse for my dismal performance in class. Suffice it to say that my myriad extra curricula activities that year, combined with my mother’s diminished influence while in hospital/rehabilitating much of the time, had drawn my attention away from the business of learning stuff that gets results in school exams.

Two words: not good.

But who cares? 2AK won the league in the interclass cricket that year, no doubt strongly influenced by my voice-captaincy.

Parenthetically, I still have no recollection of any duties performed by the vice-captain in such circumstances, nor do I recall who our captain was. I’ll guess that the captain was Ian Feeley or Dave French. It’s hard to tell who was deemed to be captaincy material back then. I mean, we ALL went to the right sort of school, didn’t we?

Jumbo Jennings did not play cricket for us that season, I am 99% sure, because when he broke through in house cricket the following year, he surprised everybody…including himself probably, as I don’t think he much liked cricket.

I have copious, near-illegible notes about performance scribbled at the back of my diary. Perhaps THAT is what a vice-captain is supposed to do. The stats. I might scan those and add them as a appendix here for my completist readers and for cricket historians of the future.

Long ago and far away

As for the lower school concert on the Friday…

…my role is neither mentioned in my diary nor in the quaint, comprehensive write up for Scribblerus by Mr Kingman, which is linked here.

I’m pretty sure that I had been elbowed out of the lower school orchestra by the end of the year, by dint of being so very, very awful at playing the violin. My mother never really got over that, coming from a family of virtuoso violinists and multi-instrumentalists…

…how come Andy Levinson, from a family of medics, was making so much better a fist of the violin than mum’s little darling? Jovito Athaide is also mentioned in that concert write up and I do remember him as being a musical talent. It was so sad to learn that his life was cut tragically short through heart failure.

I do vaguely remember the Tom Sawyer dramatization, which is also mentioned. I don’t suppose my deep south accent cut the mustard then, any more than it would now, so I’ll guess that my role in that concert was to be a gopher/fixer for the teachers.

Don Knipe “kicking up a fuss” at Grandma Anne’s place is part of a long and very peculiar story. Edwina Green, Don’s wife, was our family doctor. They were great friends of my grandma and indeed the whole “Streatham branch” of our family. The story is set out in the following linked piece, if you like reading weird:

Moving on, I wonder whether I made the connection, back then, between “24th in Class” reported on the Friday and “Mum in a peeve all day” reported on the following day. That connection is certainly clear to me now.

The word “peeve” makes me think of Andy Levinson’s vocabulary more than my own. Do you still use that word, Andy? I certainly don’t…or at least didn’t. I might start using it again, now that the diary has brought it back to the front of my mind.

WordPress AI’s depiction of “a peeved kid”.

“Came Fourth In The Inter-Form 400m…” – Back When I Was Better At Watching Tennis On TV Than At Doing Exams…Or Indeed Athletics

Trigger warning. My best placing was usually before the starting gun.

Oh dear! I was not enjoying the exam season at school that year. And for good reason too. I was having a flunky year.

Perhaps the problem was simply that the markers were struggling with my handwriting. If only it had been possible to transcribe scribble into typed text back then.

But it is possible to do that now, so let’s try and set the record (unlike my handwriting) straight:

Sunday, 22 June 1975 classes boring. Dined at Felds. Afternoon in sun. So errands. David Aarons sitting – played backgammon and chess.

Monday 23 June 1975 started exams. TV Star Trek, Waltons.

Tuesday, 24 June 1975 – worst day for exams. Uneventful day.

Wednesday 25 June 1975 – took two exams. Still hard. Inter-form athletics. I came fourth in 400m out of four. Calculator from Auntie Rose [Rose Beech]. Very good one.

I love the unwitting joke that I came fourth in the inter-form event. On first skim I thought that sounded pretty good, until I more carefully read, “out of four”. Oh dear.

That Rockwell calculator was a REALLY good one

4 divided by (out of) 4 = 1. Does that mean I came first in the 400m?

Thursday 26 June 1975 – still examining. Today physics and music. TV Jacques Cousteau & Play with a twist.

Friday 27 June 1975 still doing exams – only 2 to go. TV Walt Disney, It’s a Knockout and 10 from 20.

Saturday 28 June 1975 – finished exams, relaxed afternoon. Watched Wimbledon. Film: Greatest Show On Earth, ITV Boobed.

Arthur Ashe by Bogaerts, Rob / Anefo, CC BY-SA 3.0 NL

Perhaps I saw Arthur Ashe that day. Or Jimmy Connors. Or Brian Gottfried. Or Ken Rosewall. Or several of them and others.

The Very First Cricket World Cup Final, Australia v West Indies, 21 June 1975

I made three mentions of the very first cricket world cup (which was billed as the Prudential Cup) in my 1975 diary. I have already Ogblogged the very first match…

…and also the day that England made an untimely semi-final exit:

Here is my diary entry for the final:

Even I have had to do some Photoshop forensics on that 21 June entry:

West Indies won first P Cup by 17 runs. Had a day off school for founders day. TV: Cannon, That’s Life. Still swotting.

I’m not sure why I got a Saturday off on Alleyn’s School Founders Day. Perhaps it was because my year was still swatting for exams so we were exempted. Perhaps I was exempted on religious grounds, as that Saturday was just a few weeks before my barmitzvah.

In any case, I can’t imagine when I did the swotting boasted in the diary entry. I don’t have any recollection of swotting that day. I only recall being glued to the telly, not least for most if not all of that cricket match.

I certainly recall seeing Roy Fredericks getting out hit wicket, which was very early in the match…and seeing that partnership between Clive Lloyd and Rohan Kanhai…and seeing the Aussies struggle against that West indies bowling attack…

I do also recall the match going on late…indeed past the time that dinner was normally served in the Harris household. There was a golden rule that meal times took precedence over ANYTHING on television.

I remember arguing my corner. This was the first ever cricket world cup final and there would never, ever be another “first ever” and it was building up to a really exciting ending.

I managed to get a temporary stay of execution for the family dinner, much against my mother’s better judgement.

Here is a link to the scorecard and the Cricinfo resources for that match.

Below is a highlights package of the match – I especially dig the floppy hats donned by Fredericks and Greenidge at the start of the innings:

Beyond the final, I know that first cricket world cup had a profound effect on me.

I saved newspaper clippings of the scorecards from the various matches and I remember replaying the world cup with my friends (and on my own) in various formats over the summer:

I especially remember looking at the names of players and trying to understand what the different types of names meant for those different places. The mixture of Portuguese and Southern Asian names from Sri Lanka especially sparked my interest.

I wondered whether I would visit some of those exotic-seeming (judging by the cricketers’ names) places. I have now visited most.

Writing this article on the eve of the 2019 Cricket World Cup Final, I am still wondering when England will win the tournament.

A Truly Thrice Awful Day In My School/Sporting Life, 18 June 1975

The summer of 1975 was my sporting annus mirabilis at Alleyn’s School. This was the summer in which I considered winning a tournament quarter-final to be an uneventful day

This was the summer in which I took a hat trick at cricket; at the culmination of a league-winning tournament in which my class, 2AK won all but one of the league matches:

But when you are as sporadic at sport as I am, no amount of enthusiasm nor occasional high achievement is going to protect you from the bad days.

18 June 1975 seems to have been such a day. And not just for me.

Just in case any readers are as sporadic at reading finely crafted handwriting as I am at sport, let me transcribe that 18 June diary entry for you.

We lost in cricket league. Boo hoo. Some hot revision. Had to catch 37 train home. Out of fives competition. TV Ascent of Man, Only On Sunday. England out of Prudential Cup.

That loss in the cricket league will have really hurt at the time. I have all of the scores neatly recorded in the back of my diary (I’ll write up the tournament at some point) so can confirm that we lost that game to 2BM by three runs (90 played 93). They were the other form team in the league – we had beaten them once before in our run of six wins at the start of the tournament. A seventh win on 18 June would have confirmed the tournament for us, but that loss kept our main rivals in the race – we were to face them once more a couple of weeks later.

It appears that I not only had to vice-skipper the cricket team that day but I also had to play my fives tournament semi-final. I dont record who my fives nemesis was that day, but I have a feeling, thanks to John Eltham’s extraordinary memory for our school’s sporting legends, that it was Neil Hodson.

The 18 June 1975 diary entry, I must say, is extraordinarily bleak, even in its brevity. “Some hot revision”, I sense, was my juvenile attempt to record that sense of being hot and bothered all day at Alleyn’s. Clearly even my preferred route home from school on that day of sporting disaster was confounded.

Then, to cap it all, “England out of the Prudential Cup”, that first cricket world cup that I had been following avidly since the very first day of the tournament.

And let’s be honest about it. England hadn’t just been knocked out. England had been soundly thrashed by Australia of all teams. Soundly thrashed – click here to see the scorecard.

England’s nemesis that day – a left arm swing bowler named Gary Gilmour. 1975 was to be his annus mirabilis too. But Gilmour’s sporting heights were mirabilis electi while mine were mirabilis ordinarius.

The Ascent Of Man was clearly compulsory television viewing in our household that summer and quite right too. But what was Only On Sunday? I had to delve deep for this one, but Only On Sunday turns out to have been a comedy pilot for a sitcom set in the world of village cricket. I don’t suppose that screening the pilot on the day England were thrashed out of the cup did much for its chances, despite the top notch writing team and cast. Others cashed in years later with a similar idea, Outside Edge.

I wrote the words “boo hoo”, cynically I suspect, but I wonder whether or not the 12-year-old me really did cry at some point during that day or evening. I must admit that, writing this up now, aged 56, I welled up a little imagining my much younger self going through and then reflecting on that awful sporting day.

For The Completists Amongst You…

Here is my transcription of that diary page:

Sunday, 15 June 1975 – took second half of exam. All over! Dined up films. John player – Derby V Essex, film panicking streets.

Monday 16 June 1975 school under 13s. We won by seven wickets. TV Star Trek, likely lads, Waltons, weekend, Horizon.

17 June 1975 – bar mitzvah class. Then came home lots of revision. TV add the seventh crown hooray.

Wednesday, 18 June 1975 – we lost in cricket league boo-hoo some hot revision had to catch 37 train home. Out of five competition. TV ascent of man, only on a Sunday, England out of potential cup.

Thursday, 19 June 1975 didn’t go to classes. Still sweltering. TV Dad’s Army, Jacques Cousteau, All in the Family.

Friday, 20 June 1975 – uneventful day. Still sweating. TV It’s a Knockout v good, more swatting.

Saturday, 21 June 1975 – West Indies won Prudential Cup…Still swatting.

I wrote up the Saturday some while ago:

Fives, Cricket, Exams And Telly; The Second Week Of June 1975

The handwriting was pretty wonky:

Sunday, 8 June 1975 – took first part of senior exam. Not too bad. Another sweltering day like the last two. Had a good time in garden. TV Doctor On The Go.

Monday, 9 June 1975 – uneventful day. Beat Eltham 11-5, 11-5 in quarter-finals. TV Star Trek, Likely Lads, Waltons, Rutland Weekend Television.

I wrote up 9 June 1975 some years ago:

Tuesday, 10 June 1975– got to classes late because the bus. TV Edward VII.

Wednesday 11 June 1975 – we won cricket. I scored 7 and gave 5. TV Ascent of Man, Spike Milligan.

Thursday, 12 June 1975 – classes good – last one ever [i.e. last midweek Hebrew classes ever, not all types of class…obvs.] . TV Cousteau, All of the Family.

Friday 13 June 1975 – PE, cricket. TV Walt Disney, It’s a Knockout, 10 from 20s.

Saturday 14 June 1975 – scored under 13s, us 136 for one declared, [Wayne] Manhood 55 not out, [Perry] Harley 58, and them 96 all out – [Paddy/Sean] McGlone 4 wickets and a catch

My faint memory of scoring for the under 13s was pretty much solely of Wayne Manhood & Perry Harley batting. That 14 June 1975 report at least part explains why.