Jeff said that he’d cut a strip for our evening game…he REALLY cut a strip
(All photos kindly supplied by Charley “The Gent Malloy” Bartlett)
So much has been written about the astonishing Ashes series of 2005, not least the extraordinary match at Edgbaston. We Heavy Rollers were fortunate enough to witness the first two days of that classic match.
Yet one aspect of our wonderful experience of that match was truly unique to us Heavy Rollers: the evening and night before the test at “Tye Towers”, Big Papa Zambezi Jeff’s Bedfordshire residence, where we played cricket, enjoyed a magnificent barbeque and bonded like a band of brothers.
Our banner unfurled that afternoon, before we played
Make no mistake – Jeff’s wonderful offer to provide us all with accommodation that night and to turn his garden into a temporary cricket ground and barbeque venue was not our only option. Charley “The Gent Malloy” Bartlett had blagged us into the Edgbaston Cricket Centre for an hour in the nets that evening. Who knows how Chas used to pull off such coups? But we ended up rejecting Edgbaston’s kind offer in favour of Jeff’s place.
[A King Cricket piece describing the choice of venue for our pre test yard cricket will appear some time soon and be linked here when it does.]
Jeff’s Bar and barbeque backdropJeff showing off the bar
I’m pretty sure that I journeyed to Jeff’s place reasonably early in the afternoon with Charley and Nick. For several years, Charles would kindly arrange to meet me at a suitably convenient Central Line station (was it Redbridge or Gants Hill or Newbury Park?) and then we’d travel up together. I’d get a train home. There would sometimes be lively debate as to the music we would listen to on these journeys. I might be mistaken, but I have a feeling that Neil Young had some prominence as the in car entertainment that year.
Anyway, for sure we three were all at Tye Towers quite early, as evidenced by the photographs Chas took mid to late afternoon.
There’s me, in whites, sorting out the stumps. Jeff supervising, Nick indifferent
I have no idea what the following picture of Nigel is about. Presumably he was owed ticket money by some and was much relieved to have received it.
Or is this evidence of yard cricket match fixing?
Once the yard cricket got underway, Chas put away his camera until the after match festivities, so we have no images of the pitch once it was completed, nor of the action.
Memory will have to serve for the match itself and I might well need the help of others.
I believe I can compile a complete list of the people who played:
David “David Peel” Steed;
Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett;
Harish “Harsha Goble” Gohil;
Me;
Nick “The Boy Malloy” Bartlett;
Dan “Dan Peel” Steed;
Nigel “Father Barry” Hinks;
“Big Papa Zambezi” Jeff Tye;
Geoff “Tufty Geoff” Young (the only participant who did not also attend the match with us).
In the matter of playing conditions, I recall that we had some additional fielders to try and keep the batsmen honest:
The roller depicted in the above photograph, fielding at slip to the right-handed batsman;
In front of the flag pole, a mermaid statue (or something of that ilk) – those two objects combined to field at leg slip to the right-handed batsman.
Hitting one of those artefacts on the full was deemed to be out caught.
I contrived to get caught by the statue on one occasion. Lots of people had near misses with the roller and possibly even the odd dismissal on the off side, but I think I was alone in managing to strangle one to the mermaid.
Harish had an especially good evening at Tye Towers, as did Tufty Geoff, who was one of those irritatingly excellent yet self-effacing cricketers who tended to hide himself in the lower reaches of the Tufty Stackpole team yet consistently perform well for them when needed. Here and below is a link to a report on a subsequent Tufty match :
Anyway, Tufty Geoff won the trophy that year, for both bating and bowling, while Harish picked up a “man of the match” or “play of the day” award, I think for his bowling. Indeed I think Harish pulled off several fine dismissals including my strangle down the leg side snaffled up by a statuesque fielder.
Tufty Geoff picking up his miniscule trophy from meHarish collecting his slightly larger trophy from yours truly
Nigel reflects on the match and trophies as follows:
Can’t recall who was snaffled by the inert metal object but someone certainly was.
Jeff was equally displeased when I picked out the roof of his prized cabin-bar for two “maximums” using my prized Hansie Cronje Rawalpindi bat. I expected glory not abuse! (Sadly I never owned a bat during my playing days and can only wonder what my numbers might have been if such equipment had come my way earlier? The bat was given to Hansie who didn’t like it so gave it to his brother who became the pro at Todmorden where it fell into the hands of my brother then me). Chas had earlier compared my running style between wickets to that of a “trotting pony”. Maybe that provoked some big hitting?
I supplied the trophies. It was a last minute decision. One each for batting and bowling. Having called in to a modest local establishment it was a question of enquiring “what have you got that I can take now?” Consequently the quality of the awards left much to be desired despite the price. So, it was no surprise that one of them required a small repair before it left for Bedford, thus provoking the comment, “you were done” from Liz Tye while we were preparing for the tournament.
I recall your comment after calculating the final scores, if not verbatim. “Perhaps there should be some recognition for the runner up?” Because the same player came a close second in both categories. (Clue- it wasn’t Harish). So near but……….
Looking again at the awards ceremony photos, I seem to be tucking in to a glass of full-bodied red wine there, which, given the very little I can remember about the rest of the evening (other than that delightful, oblivious, impressionistic sense that we were having a wonderful time) must have been pretty good.
Dan Steed recalls the event as follows:
My favourite Heavy Roller memory! What a few days, starting with such a wonderful afternoon/evening!
Well worth the trip from the edge of Birmingham to drive back to Birmingham the next day for the first two days of the “Greatest Test”!
Oh and the Banoffee pie….wow 😋, and watching a combine harvester at work at some late hour!
At this juncture we should recognise the enormous contribution that Liz Tye made to that wonderful evening, in the background, producing much of the food – not least Dan’s beloved banofee pie, and generally being a “hostess with the mostess” in every way.
The next few photos show the barbeque and festivities in full sway. I think we have used enough words to conjure a sense of the mood.
The next morning, it seems that Chas got up early and went for a stroll around the estate taking some more photos. I’ll use those in the next piece, but here and below is a link to all of the photos Chas took at Tye Towers, both the evening of 3rd August and the morning of 4th August:
Photographs by Charles Bartlett. Above: Nigel & Jeff With Paul Adams
We shall return later to the above image of Nigel and Jeff smugly mingling with the South African players in the pavilion just before tea on Day One of the 2003 Edgbaston test.
Let us start this write up of the 2003 Heavy Rollers event from the beginning.
Big Match Build Up: October 2002 To May 2003
A lengthy e-mail from Nigel on 10 October 2002 set the ball rolling for this one. The key text:
The Edgbaston Test is scheduled for 24-28 July, 2003 vs. South Africa (where it all began!).Tickets go on sale in early January. Get it into the diary before holidays, personal injury, life changes and other meek excuses hamper another traditional gathering in the interests of the wonderful game.
By that time, Nigel was no longer with The Children’s Society and had not been able to attend the previous year, as documented at length in the 2002 Heavy Roller’s piece. I was not sure that the tradition would continue and was very pleased to receive that e-mail.
Then, on 3 December, came confirmation via a similarly lengthy epistle from Nigel:
Your ticket secretary has reported back with news that tickets have been acquired for England v South Africa, Thursday and Friday 24/25 July 2003 (Row A Block 03 Seats 4-10). These will be held in safe keeping until a personal transfer can be effected but cheques for 2 x £30.00 per person would be appreciated in due course…
…The secretary is happy to bear all additional costs associated with daily calls to the very nice women in the box office, reports of postal applications going missing, resubmissions, original application surfacing, consequent near purchase of too many tickets etc. etc……what stress.
Possibly it was Nigel’s use of the word “hamper” in his first e-mail about this, but the rest of us were motivated by that second e-mail to club together and send Nigel & Viv a hamper of grub for Christmas, not only to thank him for his 2003 efforts but also the 2002 efforts which, from his personal point of view, resulted in no cricket at all.
I commissioned Dall-E to help me illustrate the gift:
Not bad, but the liquid bottles within were French and grape-based, not water
On 31 December, Nigel sent what might well be his most pretentious e-mail ever:
Monsieurs ‘Heavy Rollers’
C’est avec plaisir que je mange le grand cadeau et je bois le vin et le champagne.
Merci de votre generosite mes amis!
Amities,
Nigel (et femme)
Next, in mid-May, a disappointing development, passed on to the rest of us through Nigel:
Dear Heavy Roller
It is with deep regret that I have to inform you that one of the senior membership has been forced to put an exotic holidaying experience with spouse before this great, and possibly final, annual occasion. Just when English cricket begins its renaissance after the disappointments of the winter (and summer). David reassures us that, despite this dubious decision (yes it is he), the bookings remain solid for accommodation and limited overs warm up…
David himself chimed in a few days later, not least with the following statement.
…Not sure if Dan is up to the cooked breakfast but therein lies a challenge!!!…
These messages remind me of two Wadderton traditions that I have not previously discussed: games of garden cricket on the Wadderton lawns and the traditional cooked breakfast at Wadderton before setting off for the ground.
The Night Before The Big Match: 23 July 2003
Wadderton in 2004: more slope than Lord’s, more than a tinge of green on the track
I’m pretty sure that the garden cricket prior to 2003 had been a fairly low key affair – perhaps it started in 2001 with a gentle knockabout. In 2002 it was replaced by “yard cricket in the rain at Trent Bridge”, which was quite different.
My memory of the night before cricket in 2003 is quite strong and I recall quite a good game. David’s replacement (at one time his son Ben was mooted) turned out to be “Dan’s Mate” Robbie, who was good company, a keen scout and a very useful addition to the garden cricket. Here is the cast list for 2003:
Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett;
Nigel “Father Barry” Hinks;
“Big Papa Zambezi” Jeff Tye;
Nick “The Boy Malloy” Bartlett;
Me “Ged Ladd” (accompanied by Hippity The Green Bunny, Henry The Duck and Bananarama Monkey-Face);
Dan“Dan Peel” Steed;
“Dan’s Mate” Robbie.
This group made for some good garden cricket.
Towards the end of the game, we were joined by a woman named Jill Rose, whose company was supplying computers to The Children’s Society and who for some reason wanted to meet with Charles that afternoon/evening. I think it might have been as simple as the fact that she was nearby.
She was a larger than life character, I remember. I also recall her hoving into view from the main house, much later than she had intended to visit, while our game was in full sway. Mercifully, Jill did not tumble down that slope, nor did any of us tumble down the even steeper slope, which is out of view in the above photo. You’ll have to await the 2004 report for that story. Indeed, an abridged match report for the 2003 Wadderton Garden Games can be found in Nigel’s Epistle To The Rollers, at the end of this piece.
Jill watched us playing for a while and then, when we stopped playing for rain and Charles invited her to join us for the Chinese takeaway we had agreed we would get from the Barnt Green Chinese in David’s absence…
…was that place already named Happy Valley back then? Anyway it wasn’t bad…
…Jill insisted on getting the takeaway and refused to accept any money from us.
I vaguely remember Charles Bartlett describing “going to hell and back” form filling back at TCS HQ, at Charles Nall’s behest, to declare fully the circumstances behind this receipt of supplier hospitality. Whether that form-filling trumped the form filling required to get Day Two refunds on Edgbaston tickets, I cannot say, but I did end up doing the latter.
England v South Africa Day One: 24 July 2003
Did Dan provide a cooked breakfast in the style of his inimitable Dad? I have a feeling that he did and it would have been jolly tasty.
But it was Jeff, not Dan, who provided the central picnic for Day One of play. This included a fair amount of booze which Jeff was determined we should all smuggle in to the ground. Booze-smuggling into grounds does not come naturally to me. We had some interesting debates about “who should do what”, which I think resulted in me avoiding booze-mule duties, much to Jeff’s chagrin. My argument was that I would look guilty as hell if trying to hide something, would be likely to crumble when confronted by an authority figure and therefore was, in every way, the Roller least emotionally suited to muling and most likely to get caught.
…which is a far more risky and serious form of smuggling than a bit of booze muling at Edgbaston. (Are you technically people smuggling when you smuggle yourselves across a border)? I digress.
In the end we all got in with our share of the stuff; legitimate and contraband alike.
Below is the view from the front row of the Priory Stand as it was then. This photo is the very first Heavy Roller’s photograph taken on a digital camera by Charles Bartlett. It makes Edgbaston, not least the Eric Hollies Stand beyond, look magnificent, which it truly is.
The Tye picnic
I note from the above photo evidence of the smuggled but (at lunchtime) barely concealed wine (see plastic cup on far right).
Kids playing Kwik Cricket – lunchtime entertainment. In the background the famous old Edgbaston pavilion, demolished and replaced 2010/2011, in all its (lack of) splendourTwenty20 cricket was born a few weeks before this test match. This proto-mascot Warwickshire Bear, in cricket whites, with moll, looks more growly than subsequent mascot bears.
I’m hoping that Nigel can tell the story of how a few of the senior Heavy Rollers blagged their way into the pavilion between lunch and tea that day. Nigel mentions Clive in his epistle and I do recall there was a senior administrator by that name who was associated with our group’s peculiar ability to get the seats it wanted in all circumstances without us having been on a 30 year waiting list or anything like that.
My memory of the pavilion event is very limited, but I do remember a call coming through to the rest of us with the news. I remember declining the invitation. I think there were only one or two more spaces and I was less keen than others. In any case, I had little-‘uns with me and would not have wanted to leave them unattended.
Nigel and Jeff look chuffedPaul “Frog-In-A-Blender” Adams, right, Thami Tsolekile (I think), leftHerschelle Gibbs followed by Graeme Smith returning undefeated for teaJeff Tye applauding in our so-far totally unrewarded England stalwarts at tea
Not much more than five minutes after the players went in for tea, Charles and the others were back in the Priory Stand with the rest of us when this incident happened.
Perennial joker of a supervisor steward, Paul Guppy (subsequently reported on in the Birmingham Mail honoured for his soccer stewarding) accosts me with some invented regulation prohibiting my little ‘uns from sitting in their favourite Priory Stand “seats” Photographic evidence of Paul Guppy arresting Hippity while putting him into a dangerous stranglehold. Meanwhile I seek to rescue Bananarama Monkey-Face and another steward callously looks on
Moments after the above two pictures were taken, Paul Guppy was no longer able to keep a straight face and the ruse was undone. I think it was Jeff Tye who put Paul Guppy up to this, presumably while they were doing the pavilion thing. I guessed that it was pay back time for refusing to mule the booze. But it might have been Nigel and/or Charles who put Paul Guppy up to it. I do think, now that 20 or so years have passed, it should be confession time. Actually the incident was very funny, not least because Paul Guppy was a uniquely unsuited character to the role of officious senior steward concocting a ludicrous rule on the fly.
I am pretty sure that Jeff Tye organised the prediction game in 2003, as I have no record, either electronic or paper, of the game. From 2004 onwards the mantle had passed to me for the rest of all time.
I don’t recall what we did that evening – I don’t think we went out – I suspect that the Wadderton breakfast and Jeff’s picnic catering, into which we all naturally chipped in to cover the costs, had included enough food to tide us over between Days One & Two.
The Day Two That Didn’t Exactly Happen, 25 July 2003
…at least we had enjoyed some fine garden cricket and a glorious day at Edgbaston in 2003. In any case, if you were going to hang around waiting for nothing to happen, you’d sooner hang around at Wadderton than at Harborne Hall- especially the 2012 quasi-commercial manifestation of Harborne Hall with its novel “price per slice of breakfast toast” mentality.
Charles took some photos of us on that rainy day at Wadderton, around 10:15 that morning. It looks dark. It was dark.
Nigel looking resigned: “no chance”Jeff emphatic: “you might as well go to New Street now, Ian”The eternal optimist: “let’s wait and see”Dan, sanguine: “heck, I’m at home anyway”.
As the rain persevered throughout the morning, one by one the Heavy Rollers succumbed to the inevitable and decided to leave. I think Jeff might have bailed out first. Then Nigel. Then Charles & Nick.
I maintained a level of optimism based on a detailed reading of the rainfall radar which told me that, as long as the wind speed and direction didn’t change, that better weather would start sweeping in to the West Midlands around 15:00.
Each departing Heavy Roller assured me that I was waiting in vain, while depositing their tickets with me, the designated mourner, which meant that I would be responsible for getting the refunds if play was indeed abandoned.
Anyway, I enjoyed sitting around chatting with Dan, who possibly shared my optimism, but in any case was off work for the day and at home. When the sun came out, we were both buoyed and feeling a sense of “told you so”…we even started planning our journey to the ground…until the announcement came on the Tv broadcast just a few minutes later that play had been abandoned for the day. There was not enough time to mop up after the relentless rain and get started before the cut off time.
Dan very kindly drove me in to Birmingham New Street, in glorious sunshine, to catch a convenient train back to London.
I remember sitting with a nice cricket-lover on that journey home whose one day of test match cricket a year had just been washed out. I realised how lucky I was. Not only had I already seen a day of this test match but I was by then already a life member of Middlesex and seeing/due to see plenty of cricket that season.
I wrote the following missive to “the lads” at soon after 7:00 that evening:
OK, OK, You called it right
Folks
Daniel and I had the surreal experience of watching the televised inspection c3.15 with glorious sunshine at Wadderton (we were planning to set off for the ground), only to learn that play was abandoned for the day!
We were so disgusted that we tore up our tickets and yours – so sorry guys – no refund. Oh all right, I have your tickets and will sort out the refunds and will reimburse you if/when the dosh turns up.
Still enjoyed the cricket we did see and the splendid company for two days. Here’s to the next time.
Ian
Nigel responded later that evening, with sufficient detail to allow the observant reader to realise that I don’t really remember all of the above stuff – but I do save e-mails and possibly even re-read bits of them:
These weather forecaster were just wishful thinkers.
Us hardened ex-players and watchers knew from experience of endless pavilion waiting that it was going to be a long shot.
However, respect to you both for sticking with it. As I was driving S-Westerly (in relentless driving rain) I heard that the South Africans had left the ground, doubtless following Steve Rouse’s words of wisdom that it was going to take at least 2 hours once the rain stopped for any play to begin. Pat Murphy said he was “not optimistic” (Interesting that the Brumbrella is no longer due to it damaging the outfield and regularly breaking down!).
Perhaps the refunds can go towards the 2004 event? How can we ever relinquish this little bit of magic?
Thanks to Jeff for the food…brilliant and glad we have a photo (c/o Charles) for David to witness. Thanks to Dan for extending the Wadderton/Steed hospitality.
The ‘yard cricket’ was an even affair with contributions from all (Robbie and Dan can play, Ian was turning it flatulently, but who can forget Nick’s runout and Charles’ 2×4’s to win the second match?? Only eclipsed by Jeff’s dismissal as the rain started).
Thanks due also to Clive (the tip at the 20-20 was worth its weight).
I have already started to bore people with tales of being, “that close” to frog-in-a-blender”. I v. nearly got into the changing rooms.
Hard to believe it is over for 12 months after waiting for it for so long.
Hope paths might cross between now and summer 2004 but there are a few memories to conjure it up during the dark winter nights?
(Ian’s muling antics will never be mentioned again, like yeah…) As T.S Eliot (might have) said “you never know the true lengths of your achievements in life until you try to take in drink to Edgbaston”.
Until the next time, your obedient, and ‘still lively off a short run in small doses’, Admissions Secretary, signing off for 2003.
Nigel xxxxx
Indeed, “that close to “frog-in-a-blender”
Finally, although I have used most of them, here is a link to all of Charles Bartlett’s pictures from that event:
The first ever picture of The Heavy Rollers, taken, quite brilliantly, by “that joker of a supervisor steward”, Paul Guppy. From left to right starting with, in the green shirt and shades: Nigel, Charles, Jeff, Me (with Hippity & Henry The Duck), David. I have often wondered about the person two seats to the right of David. Did he not want to be seen on camera? Was he having a Sneed-snooze?Had he existentially expired?…
…or perhaps the chap with his head down had just heard one of Paul’s terrible jokes
…at some point a decision was made to make it two days rather than one for 2000. That decision was as yet unmade in early December 1999, when Nigel wrote:
Whatever your reasoning-to see Charles take money off Jeff, Ian’s mascot/s, the cuisine, the cricket even….the time has come to believe in the future. Things can improve.
England v West Indies, same place, Thursday June 15th and possibly 16th too?
Let me know,soon.
Nigel
I cannot see my reply or even any e-mail replies on the e-mail trail, yet somehow we must have all communicated to Nigel our considered opinion on expanding the adventure to two days: YES PLEASE!
We were all working together a lot in late 1999, so my guess is that everyone had the opportunity to discuss the matter with Nigel and for all the arrangements to be communicated by means other than e-mail. An extraordinary thought 20+ years later.
In the absence of a swathe of photos and documentary evidence, memory evidence is thin. The traditions described in the above two pieces (1998 and 1999) would have been pursued without doubt. We will have stayed at Wadderton, certainly on the Wednesday and Thursday night. David will have done the honours with the picnic on both days. Jeff will have done Edgebaston [sic] betting sheets. I would have trained home on the Friday evening.
One strong memory I have of this episode was a moment of fame for one of my mascots, Henry the Duck.
Same location, same two teams, four years later
I’m pretty sure it was on the TV highlights we saw at Wadderton on the evening after the first day’s play. I’m guessing it was when Graeme Hick was out for a duck, the camera panned to Henry for a few moments and Michael Holding said, words to the effect of:
that just about sums it up.
Traditions take a while to settle, of course. Even The Heavy Rollers. So there was some fragmentation and controversy that summer.
No-one has ever managed to establish why Nick “The Boy Malloy” Bartlett wasn’t there. Nick is convinced he wasn’t invited. Nigel insists that he would only have needed the nod from Chas and Nick would have been an automatic pick. There are rumours that some indecision might have been involved. The truth will never be established.
That event might inadvertently have kicked off the short spate of ill-conceived attempts by senior Children’s Society folk to join The Heavy Rollers and the resulting accusations of elitism.
On Day Five of the fifth test, Jeff Tye called me in the morning and suggested that we “walk up” and see the day’s play together, as it promised to be potentially historic – indeed it turned out unquestionably so. As I explain in the above piece, to my regret since, I let work get in the way. Jeff was smarter and/but went to the Oval on his own that day.
How or why they reached their decision to invite me to join them in 1999 is shrouded in mystery and secrecy, other than to say that I was working very closely with Charles, Nigel and Jeff at that time; I suspect cricket came into the casual conversation quite a few times.
My diary suggests that I originally planned to make it a day trip on that Thursday but reworked my plans into a three day visit to the West Midlands, the first two of which revolved around several meetings organised by Charles and (separately) Jeff and Nigel at The Children’s Society’s West Midlands Conference Centre, Wadderton.
Wadderton, The Spiritual Home Of the Heavy Rollers
Wadderton – Photo by Charles Bartlett
In the early years of The Heavy Rollers (and, heck, 1999 was only the second year of this great tradition) the overnight meal and chat at Wadderton before the match was a quintessential element of the experience. So was the enjoyment of a David Steed picnic at the cricket (see example in headline photo), lovingly prepared by David (who ran Wadderton) and schlepped by him and several others of us to Edgbaston.
Those who rolled in 1999 (and the nicknames I gave them all some years later) were the following:
Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett;
Nigel “Father Barry” Hinks;
“Big Papa Zambezi” Jeff Tye;
David “David Peel” Steed;
Nick “The Boy Malloy” Bartlett (like me, a 1999 initiate);
Me “Ged Ladd”.
Only one 1998 character was dropped from the original 1998 five; Paul “Fifth Beatle” Griffiths. The who, what and why of Paul’s “dismissal” should be told by someone far better able to explain than me (Nigel). One of the reasons, as I understand it, was Paul’s inability to engage realistically with the prediction betting game.
The Prediction Betting Game
Ah, the prediction game! One of the several traditions that appears to have emerged almost fully formed in the earliest incarnation of the Heavy Rollers. Jeff was the curator of that game originally, handing out sheets asking attendees to predict, at the start of the day, an array of different scores and match factors achieved at various intervals in the day. 50p per line, placing a theoretical five to seven pounds at risk, although most people would end up merely a pound or two up or down. It’s not about the money, it’s about the bragging rights. Actually, come to think of it, it’s not even about that. It’s traditional, so of course we do it each year.
Within two or three years, I had taken up the prediction game mantle from Jeff, as my mental arithmetic and precision in applying rules was deemed, by the majority, to be superior to that of Jeff; not the highest benchmark I have ever exceeded, but there we go. I think I might even have carried forward Jeff’s traditional mis-spelling of the word Edgbaston as Edgebaston the first time I did the sheets. Below is the earliest version that survives in electronic form – 2004 -but this e-template was created in 2002.
The Steed Picnic Followed By (As Night Follows Day) The Steed Snooze
The headline picture (one of Charles’s many superb efforts) depicts an example of a David Steed-style picnic (actually Jeff Tye brought this picnic, in 2003 as it happens), set out atop the fence at the front of the Priory Stand. In those days, the Priory Stand’s front row extended pretty much to the boundary, making those seats an excellent front row view and an opportunity to chat with unsuspecting fielders who might be standing very close indeed to us, guarding that part of the boundary.
The coloured clothing is kids playing Kwik Cricket during lunch
Beady-eyed observers and cricket historians will observe, to the right of the picture, a plastic cup filled with lightly coloured liquid that resembles, in look, white wine. It is white wine. David always ensured that there was plentiful wine for the picnic. In those early years, I think it was still permissible to bring alcohol into the ground. Latterly, when such permission was revoked, various “drinks muling” operations were devised. David’s best was un-shelling wine boxes and disguising quite large quantities of wine as picnic coolers at the bottom of his hamper.
Most would take some wine with the lunch. Some would also be partaking of beer; some would stick with beer, some would only drink wine.
Most of us, if we are being honest, would be a little hazy on the details of the sessions of play after lunch. But David could be relied upon to go a step or two further, having an extended snooze – sometimes dropping off even before the resumption of play after lunch. It was part of the Heavy Rollers tradition. It would have been rude of David not to snooze. It would have been even more rude of us not to observe the snooze and incorporate the only uncertain aspect of it (the exact timing) into the prediction game.
That Particular 1999 Heavy Rollers Event
I especially remember socialising at Wadderton on the evening before the event. It was possibly the first time that I had spent significant social time with Nigel and Jeff. I had got to know Charles a year or so earlier and therefore better – not only through work events at Wadderton that had required overnight stays and evening time together, but also through the early Z/Yen & Children’s Society sporty socials, including cricket, tennis & even ten-pin bowling (Ogblogs to follow).
One aspect of the night before which sticks in my mind is seeing a “big match build up” piece on the TV – I think it might have been on the local West Midlands news – but this was excitingly unusual for me as I had no TV in those days. I would sometimes see TV at Janie’s place but I don’t think I’d previously experienced that feeling of watching a news/magazine item on the TV and thinking “I’ll be there witnessing that tomorrow”.
I remember little, in truth, about the day itself, other than the impressionistic view that I had a superb time and very much hoped that the experience would be repeated…
…although I’m not sure that I would have imagined in my wildest dreams that the tradition would be sustained into a third decade.
I used to buy a programme in those days (I gave up on that some years ago as I tended barely to look at them after I while – I still have my 1999 one.
I do remember wanting and advocating for bowling changes far too frequently. Every time I said “I think they should have replaced so-and-so” – more than once Andy Caddick -that bowler would go on to take a wicket…or two.
I also recall wondering out loud whether Nasser Hussein was desperate bringing Mark Butcher on to bowl before lunch, only for Butch, naturally, to take a wicket. Jeff Tye in particular found my low-grade captaincy ideas hilarious.
One tradition that was not formed from the outset, but which flowed from/after the 1999 gathering, was the idea that one day of Heavy Rolling at the test was insufficient for our cricketing appetites and that we should aim for two henceforward.
I suspect that most of the others stayed at Wadderton after that 1999 day at the test and I’m not too sure how I got my luggage and myself back to London. I suspect that David Steed had arranged a mini-bus of some sort to take the group back to Wadderton and arranged for my luggage to be brought on it. I vaguely remember being dropped at Five Ways and wending my way back to Birmingham New Street and then home from there.
When I say “home”, I was staying at Janie’s that summer while “The City Quarters” were being refurbished. That explains why I recall watching highlights on the TV at the end of that day – another rare treat for me at that time.
The Aftermath
I wrote to most of the Rollers at 9:00 the next morning:
To: HINKS NIGEL; BARTLETT CHARLES; TYE JEFF Subject: 1 July 1999
also to David by post
Just a quick note to thank you all for the good company yesterday and especially to thank Nigel for organising it and David for making the splendid spread. It was a super day out.
Sun is shining today – easier wocket – here’s to 350+ for England. (Hope springs……..)
See you all soon.
Ian
Charles wrote the following response to all the e-mailees at lunchtime:
Having just heard that England are 45 for 6 I think 350 is a trifle optimistic!..
Charles
In a vain attempt to extricate myself with my dignity intact, I wrote the following missive at 7:30 a.m. on the Monday:
Gentlemen
Like I said – 350+ 1st innings (226 NZ + 126 Eng = 352 – which is more than 350) – there’s creative accounting for you. Anyway, England won and the naysayers were confounded.
Ian
Nigel responded pithily:
(Never)Trust an accountant!
The Heavy Rollers tradition of post-match e-mail bants was now well and truly formed. Although, given my dire prediction skills in 1999, the biggest surprise is that the elders of The Heavy Rollers didn’t give me “the Fifth Beatle treatment”, but instead, thank goodness, invited me back again…and again…and again…
Image “Diving For A Tie” produced in collaboration with Dall-E
The headline is a little deceptive, because Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett and I were not in Barcelona the City, but we were, along with a great many Z/Yen people and one or two other Children’s Society people, in Barcelona, the tapas and wine bar in The City.
Twenty years later, at the time of writing, Barcelona is still there – click the image for a link.
I had spent the whole day in the City. My diary says we had a PAYE inspection that day. I think it might have been that magnificent day that the inspector challenged us for claiming that we had an expenses procedure dispensation (which of course we did have) as he could find no record of us ever having been issued with such a dispensation. Linda Cook went to the archive files and dug out our dispensation letter which happened to have been issued by “Phil”, the very tax inspector who was before us that day. He almost apologised, claiming that files had been lost in an office move. He didn’t stay long after that.
But of course you don’t win tax inspections; the best you can hope for is an honourable draw or a tie.
Which brings me to the World Cup Semi Final.
But before that I need to explain why Charley The Gent was at our offices that day. You see, Teresa Bestard, who was one of Z/Yen’s first employees and who had done a great deal of work for The Children’s Society under Charley’s auspices, was leaving Z/Yen that day.
Teresa was (is) a Catalan with roots in Barcelona and Majorca. She chose the Barcelona tapas and wine bar as a suitable venue for her leaving do.
I arranged to meet Charley and Tony to go through some business stuff at Z/Yen around 16:00, so they could conveniently join the leaving do afterwards.
On arrival, Chas did ask me if I was aware of the Australia v South Africa semi-final score. I wasn’t. He told me. I said it sounded close, but edging towards South Africa. Chas said he fancied Australia for the match. He wanted to bet. I said I don’t like to bet. He suggested a one pound stake. I accepted, with the proviso that if the match was a tie, both pounds would go to The Children’s Society.
Chas doing his Children’s Society cricket captain bit, back in 1998
We were not expecting to follow the latter stages of the World Cup Semi-Final, but Barcelona had other ideas. They were pumping the match out on big screens throughout the bar.
Great…
…said the cricket tragics, e.g. me and Charley. Teresa did not seem well pleased. She was already vocally irritated with us for a supposed slight; we had invited Mary O’Callaghan along to the event. Teresa saw this as Z/Yen inviting Teresa’s replacement to Teresa’s own leaving do. Actually we had hired Mary before we even knew that Teresa was leaving and had asked Mary along to several events to meet the team before she joined; this was the one she could make.
Some neutrals, such as Jacqueline Goldberg, Michael Mainelli and Linda Cook, used the language of indifference towards the cricket, but in truth couldn’t help but become more and more interested in the final overs of the match, as it became clear that the result was on a knife edge and the match was a real thriller.
I hope The Children’s Society made good use of the £2 it scored from that bet. The charity benefited from our subsequent charity matches to a much greater extent than this wager.
Below is a video of the highlights/denouement of that match:
Teresa’s leaving do went on for hours after the cricket finished and everyone relaxed into the wine and tapas. It was a very good leaving do for a very special member of the team.
But I’m afraid the cricket tragics amongst us will remember the evening primarily for that astonishing tied World Cup Semi Final, as we lived every moment on those big screens in Barcelona.
2023 marks the 25th anniversary of the very first Heavy Rollers day watching cricket – on 4 June 1998 – when Nigel “Father Barry” Hinks, Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett, “Big Papa Zambezi” Jeff Tye, David “David Peel” Steed & Paul “Fifth Beatle” Griffiths witnessed the first day of the test series between England & South Africa at Edgbaston.
In this guest piece, Nigel reflects on the tradition that started that day and the events that led to its birth. Questions such as “How did we get here?” and “Why curtains?” I add to the piece with theological and ethnomethodological interpretations of Nigel’s epiphany, plus, more importantly, some pictures and cricket links.
My initiation into the tradition itself was the following year, 1999 – you may see a write up of that occasion by clicking here or the link below.
A quarter of a century ago an early gathering of cricket enthusiasts assembled before a more buoyant South African touring side than exists currently. The tight group of participants applauded the carefully negotiated seating, oblivious to the fact that this would one day swell to eleven; the perfect accommodation arrangements (courtesy of The Children’s Society’s residential training centre) and the prospect of emergent friendships, forged through shared cricketing passions.
‘Yard’ cricket games would take place in one garden adjacent to a severe slope that would once take down Charley when in ever- increasing pursuit of a forward defensive gaining pace down the hill; and within public spaces that would entice inner-city youths to “come and have a go” in the best possible tradition. Indoor nets alongside the real thing have even been secured. No one could forget the pre-Ashes game in the garden fashioned from a farmer’s field by Big Jeff, where a surprise-addition associate walked-off with both of the tacky commemorative trophies.
Nobody could have predicted the longevity of this annual pursuit. When the familiar, and sometimes less so, would gleefully reconvene. Life’s troubles, work stresses were forgotten immediately insults, and warm greetings, began to be exchanged.
The crucial purchasing of tickets has been handed on baton-like, never once dropped until the best seats are secured. The catering responsibilities likewise, although the standards set by Mrs Malloy remain beyond any imitation, with personally labelled sandwiches for the fussy and egg-phobic in colour-coded wrapping.
Or, indeed, how this creation would withstand the accusations of elitism, vain efforts by senior personnel to muscle-in on the action, the eventual disintegration of our prized accommodation and, more poignantly, the redundancy of several Rollers.
Such was the strength, and singularity of purpose, as these cricket-friends, undeterred by adversity, toured a variety of alternative venues, some appalling and others more convivial (See links to pieces referencing Harborne Hall and The Hotel from Hell).
Second generation Rollers have been initiated, along with some of their mates, with one or two notable “one-hit wonders” who came and went. Other respected Associates were also invited to make repeat appearances.
That First Day Of Heavy Rollers At The Cricket: 4 June 1998
Memories fade. The 1998 Heavy Rollers day is the least documented and most temporally remote, nearly 25 years later. Yet the cast of characters (five) was documented many years ago, in 2012, during our rain -ruined sojourn. The following snippets emerge from me (Ian) interviewing Nigel.
The tradition of most rollers staying overnight at Wadderton and dining together the night before the match would have been initiated. Only Paul “Fifth Beatle” Griffiths simply joined the Heavy Rollers at the ground on the day (legend has it arriving late and leaving early).
Jeff Tye’s prediction betting game was there, at least in embryonic form. Paul struggled to engage with the game realistically, either because he really had no idea how a test match day tends to pan out or perhaps as an act of rebellion against the game. But everyone else participated as best they could.
Nigel – reflecting at Wadderton, 2003 – photo by Charles
Indeed, the post-lunch wooziness that affected all Heavy Rollers who chose to imbibe might well have induced a reflective phase in Nigel’s mind. “How did we get here? What sequence of events has led to this glorious day at the cricket with friends? What might it all mean?”
The answers to those tricky questions will lead us down many thought paths and to several prior events. But if I am to deconstruct Nigel’s answer to one word, that word is “curtains”.
How A Search For Curtains Revealed The Inner Truth Of Nigel’s Faith In Cricket, January 1995
DALL-E 2 imagining: “curtains of fine woven linen and blue, purple, and scarlet thread; with artistic designs of cherubim”
On the Monday [5th day] of that January 1995 Adelaide Test, I had decided to take a little time out of the cricket to-and-froing underway at the Adelaide Oval. I had already witnessed Mike Gatting’s retirement after his final Test century, and five-ball duck; a moody Glen McGrath when not selected; Craig McDermott’s late entry after the previous evening’s dodgy crocodile dinner; plus, together with Geoff, my scouse-Aussie mate, a forceful exchange of views about Mike Atherton’s captaincy credentials with the late Tony Greig, by the wheelie-bins.
Thus I sought solace in my host’s offer…..to go shopping…..for bedroom curtains.
What possessed this decision to accompany Mercedes (Geoff’s wife), a delightful Spanish-Aussie, to buy curtains from a low-budget retail outlet in the port area of the City, will remain a mystery.
It has been suggested that accompanying Mercedes was an ideal antidote to Greg Blewett’s maiden century on debut, and 40 degree centigrade temperatures. But, curtains? For goodness sake.
The curtain spotting excursion was progressing as only these things can, until Geoff, my Scouse-Aussie mate, managed to convey (via one of those new-fangled mobile phones) something of the excitement now unfolding [at the Adelaide Oval] that would make any further curtain exploration instantly less appealing. In fairness Geoff had consistently eschewed the idea of curtain shopping and was now fully vindicated.
He made it known that we had to get to the Oval asap, as Phil De Freitas was in the process of doing something far more attention-worthy than the selection of a durable, mid-priced fabric for a teen’s [Geoff & Mercedes daughter, Carmen’s, to be specific] bedroom. Consequently, following the De Freitas wonder-knock, and equally memorable bowling from Chris Lewis and Devon Malcolm, England secured what was once a very unlikely victory.
It is here that the gossamer-thin, embryonic conception that would eventually create the Heavy Rollers begins to emerge. It was in the post match euphoria, just after David Gower added his signature to that of former captains, M J Atherton and……D A Reeve, that I promised myself that I would be witness to [at least part of] all further Ashes series when back home. To do so with cricket loving colleagues and friends would be my ambition, but just how to make it a reality didn’t yet enter my thoughts; it was still just a dream.
The Adelaide Oval some 10 years later
Interviewing Nigel some 28 years after the exciting events of the 1994/95 4th Ashes Test at the Adelaide Oval, it was clear that none of the sense of euphoria from that day has departed Nigel’s soul. It was one of those life-affirming, never-to-be-forgotten memories that remains vivid for Nigel – it was a cricket epiphany.
I have investigated Biblical references to curtains to try and understand the profound meaning of this particular epiphany. In Exodus 26, the curtains for the Tabernacle are specified in some detail.
“Moreover you shall make the tabernacle with ten curtains of fine woven linen and blue, purple, and scarlet thread; with artistic designs of cherubim you shall weave them. The length of each curtain…”
Intriguingly the very first thing that God specifies for the building of the Tabernacle is the curtains. Personally I’d start with the structural stuff, but then I couldn’t create much in six days, let alone the entire universe and all that is in it, so what do I know?
Emanuel Swedenborg believed that the significance of the “curtains” in that Exodus 26 passage is the interior truths of faith. Thus it was fitting that Nigel went in search of curtains on the morning of the 5th day of that 4th Test at Adelaide, when his faith in cricket was failing him; yet also the very day when, just a few hours later, the interior truths of his cricketing faith were revealed to him.
On the other hand, for all we know, poor Carmen – Geoff and Mercedes daughter – might never have been bought the promised curtains. Nigel neither knows nor cares whether the aborted shopping trip was ever rescheduled. Carmen’s side of this story, a sorry tale of teenage disappointment at the hands of her parents and their visitor, might be intriguing in all sorts of ways.
The Day Nigel Delivered On the First Bit Of His Self-Promise: Day One Of The 1997 Ashes, Edgbaston, 5 June 1997
A different England v Australia Day At Edgbaston around that time
The groundworks were to be dug still further in June 1997 when I made my introduction with Charley at the residential training centre [Wadderton], the venue for future Heavy Roller gatherings.
I was buoyant, if rather red-nosed, after the first day of play at Edgbaston, when Australia had been bowled out for just 118. An exciting Test was now in motion, despite a threatened Aussie comeback with the ball.
Charley became instantly engaged with the recall, having regularly checked progress throughout the day. Devon Malcolm’s tumbling catch in the outfield to end a spirited Shane Warne fight back was specifically relived but well clear of the infamous hill-end that would claim Charley in years to come. There was still time to describe the standing rendition of D-I-S-C-O by those occupying the seats in front after every boundary.
This very first meeting with Charley, who was staying over for a more mundane work matter, led to the beginnings of a plan for the following year. We vowed to return, possibly with other enthusiasts, for the Edgbaston Test match. I confess to wondering if this expressed enthusiasm was going to be akin to a brief holiday romance, where numbers are exchanged but never acted upon.
However, Charley was true to his declaration. He was definitely up for it when it was time for me to start phoning Edgbaston ticket office for the following year’s fixture.
(Those were the distant days when phone calls to real people at places like Edgbaston’s ticket office were still possible). I secured a handful of excellent tickets. I then approached Big Jeff who was an immediate selection, as was David Steed, who managed Wadderton.
Intriguingly, I had never previously realised that Nigel met Charles for the first time, in the summer of 1997, a few weeks before I met him. It was truly fortuitous that they met in that context at Wadderton on the evening of Nigel’s return from the cricket. It really is conceivable that the Heavy Rollers might never have happened had it not been for the combined enthusiasm of Nigel and Charles seeing through on that 1997 promise to make the idea of a cricket gathering at the Edgbaston test in 1998 a reality.
That whole 1998 test series was extraordinary. Here is a highlights reel for the whole series.
There would be scope for others to participate. Could there possibly be like-minded enthusiasts about? That idea following Adelaide ’95 was slowly becoming a reality it seemed.
Indeed, it was only a few weeks after that very first heavy rollers event that my “field trip” with Jeff brought me into the fold for the following year and the ensuing decades – click here or below.
Such was the unqualified success of this ‘first’ episode. Despite there being no presumption of repetition, it duly was and other stalwart Rollers were snapped up (Ian “Ged Ladd” Harris, Harish “Harsha Goble” Gohil, Nick “The Boy Malloy” Bartlett, Dan “Dan Peel” Steed) to provide illustrious and valued membership, some to this day.
