Two Club Nights & A Silver Racquet, Lord’s, Kimchee & Lord’s, 22 to 26 October 2025

Club Night 2018, with the 2025 register in brackets: Linda (present), Me (present), Sandra (present), Martin (absent), Liza (present), Andrea (present), Mark (RIP), David (present), Simon (absent), Ivor (absent)

22 October – Real Tennis Club Night At Lord’s

When I talk about club night at Lord’s, I am talking about a 9 or 10 times a year midweek informal event, enabling real tennis players of varying standards to rock up for some doubles.

Being a quintessentially varying standard player of the most average sort, I have stumbled into the role of curating these events. In truth, it’s probably more to do with the fact that I’m quite good at marking – i.e. umpiring and scoring.

The abacus (this photo at Hampton Court) is for show – I normally mark in my head.

We had a great turnout at Lord’s on 22 October – about a dozen brave souls gave it a go. There were one or two new faces, which always makes the handicapping just a little harder. One chap, who was new to the game and said he’d only played a few times and had a couple of lessons, nevertheless hit the ball like a seasoned player. It took the more experienced players a while to work him out and he’ll soon enough work out what they were doing to work him out.

It’s a great sport – requiring thought and mental agility as well as sport and (hopefully) physical agility.

23 October – Youth Club Night At Kimchee

But the term “club night” also makes me think of youth club night, which used to be an almost weekly thing in Streatham back in the 1970s. More than 10 years ago, several of us regrouped (as it were) and have been meeting up for youth club nights, mostly as an annual event in the late spring. The headline photo is from May 2018.

This year’s spring event was a very small scale affair, while I was still recovering from my hip operation. I sense that the four who gathered then felt that four was not a quorum. Hence the radical idea of having an autumn rescheduling at the scene of the spring “crime” – Kimchee in Kings Cross.

Six of us gathered: Andrea (thanks for organising), David, Linda, Liza, Me & Sandra.

This was the first “scale” gathering since the sad and untimely passing last year of Mark Phillips whom I (and indeed several of us) had known since we were very little indeed; before youth club.

When the idea of having these gatherings was first mooted (I think we started in 2013 or 2014 – I’ll need to diary trawl for the earliest one – as the first few were pre-Ogblog) – both Mark and I agreed to attend with some trepidation. I know this because I used to see Mark’s mum, Shirl, when I visited my mum in Nightingale. I also learnt via Shirl that Mark, like me, was surprisingly pleased with the gathering and resolute in wanting such gatherings to be repeated, which they have been.

My favourite Mark-related story from our gatherings is from 2019, when I discovered that Mark was now the headmaster at Deptford Green School, around the time that my cricket charity, the London Cricket Trust, was putting facilities into Deptford Park, in part for use by his school. The link below is the story of what happened – the punchline being that the great South African cricketer, AB de Villiers, rocked up at Deptford Park to open our new pitch a few weeks later

26 October – Silver Racquet Match At Lord’s

Bertie Vallat (left), Chris Bray (centre) & Ben Yorston (right)

Janie and I brought our Sunday morning lawners slot at Boston Manor forward an hour, so we might get to Lord’s in time to see most of the Silver Racquet match between Bertie Vallat and Ben Yorston.

Aficionados of Ogblog will no doubt remember Bertie’s first mention, from 2018:

I mentioned a key feature of that match to Jonathan Potter, soon after Janie and I sat down in the dedans gallery.

HARRIS: I have played Bertie myself. I took a couple of games off him playing level.

POTTER: How old?

HARRIS: (thinking…) I was about 56 I think.

POTTER: Not you. Bertie.

HARRIS: (sotto voce) 12.

Strangely, it turns out that Bertie remembers the occasion too…or at least his early moment of “fame” here on Ogblog.

But you want to know about the Silver Racquet match, not my ridiculous ramblings about one of my many historic on-court humiliations.

And so you should, because it really was a corker of a match. We weren’t really expecting an epic battle, but we got a five set epic, which included some truly exceptional shot-making and especially impressive defensive retrieving by both players.

The dedans was pretty full for the second and third sets, but several attendees, not expecting quite such a long battle, had other engagements to get to, so only a few of us were able to stick around and see the match reach its conclusion.

Janie and I really were impressed and engrossed in watching the match. Even the final set, when both players were clearly pushing themselves towards and beyond their physical limits, was a great watch. Amateur sport at its best.

But you don’t need to take my word for it – Paul Cattermull has written an excellent match report for the T&RA, which you can read by clicking here.

You don’t even have to take Paul’s word for it – see for yourself on the MCC YouTube recording for that day, from 2 hrs 20 minutes in until the sweet/bitter end:

Been going since 1867. The Silver Racquet, I mean. Not Bertie, obviously.

Winning the Silver Racquet doesn’t just mean a trophy and bottle of pop. It also confers the right on the winner to compete for the Gold Racquet. Unfortunately, Janie and I won’t be able to make that match. Maybe next time.

Tennis At Queen’s Followed By Dinner With Simon Jacobs At Brasserie Blanc, 12 September 2018

Bertie at the scene of the crime in 2022

I have been playing real tennis at The Queen’s Club this September, as the Lord’s court is closed for refurbishment and a few other clubs, such as Queen’s, have, very kindly, offered us MCC tennis types refugee status for the month.

It’s been a somewhat sobering experience at times.

My first gig as a refugee was a singles friendly match against a 12-year-old…

…who absolutely took me to pieces.

To be fair, he is the champion player at his age group and, if “the book” is to be believed, he is even capable of beating the U15 champion now. Here is some film of him winning the French Open:

I’m pretty sure he’ll be an exceptionally good player. Remember where you first heard the name: Bertie Vallat…

…I know, you couldn’t make up a more Wodehouseian name than that…

…he’s the boy in the foreground at the start of the filum.

Anyway, point is, after that ego-bruising episode, I decided that I needed a lesson in technique, so arranged to play an hour-long friendly match with one of my Lord’s chums, then an hour of coaching, ahead of meeting up with Simon in Hammersmith.

I did well in my friendly match – reclaiming the handicap points I had lost to Bertie. Then I enjoyed my lesson too, which I think will help my lawners as well as my realers…am I starting to spend to much time hanging around the arcane language of this game?

Then, after killing some time in a couple of coffee bars along the way, I met up with Simon Jacobs for a relatively early dinner at Brasserie Blanc.

I explained my difficult hour at the hands of a twelve-year-old the previous week, which led Simon to suggest that I might have “done a Serena” and/or resorted to corporal punishment. Neither of these suggestions seemed, to me, worthy of Simon.

But then Simon might well have had other things on his mind. He was very kindly taking time out to have dinner with me just a couple of days ahead of the launch of his latest single; Top Of The Pops. How cool is that?

Well, you can judge for youreselves by listening to and watching the following YouTube:

We discussed without irony the increasingly ghastly political landscape. The absence of irony is not because we have lost our senses of humour – heaven forbid. No, it appears that we never did have a sense of irony,  due to ethnic accidents of birth. No point mocking us (we wouldn’t get it), simply pity us.

The food was very good indeed. The wine was also very good. The service was excellent, until we asked our waiter to leave us alone for a short while to consider what to have for, or indeed if to have, desert. Then we complained when the waiter returned because he had neglected us for so long.

The waiter laughed and told us that we were his favourite table of the evening. Poor chap, he clearly thought we were being ironic…he didn’t realise that we really meant it – he didn’t realise that we don’t do irony.

We talked a fair bit about music; not only Simon’s new single but his plans for the album and also the stuff that I am fiddling around with at the moment. Simon set me some homework around “I Only Have Eyes For You” and also “Nothing Rhymed”, the latter of which has yielded faster results than the somewhat tricky former.

The evening whizzed by and I had no idea how late it was until we got to Hammersmith Station. Still, not so late that the tubes get tricky.

As always, it had been a very enjoyable evening with Simon.