In contrast with a very enjoyable day, the day before, at Lord’s with Ian Theodoreson…
…another very enjoyable day at Lord’s, this time with Rohan Candappa.
The contrast, in truth, is that Ian is a cricket lover who found the idea of meeting up at Lord’s especially enticing, whereas Rohan isn’t particularly keen on cricket, but we wanted to meet up for lunch that day and there are far worse places for lunch and a chat than a county championship day at Lord’s.
Ahead of the day, I was a bit concerned about Rohan – one of life’s natural comedians and rebels – rising to the challenge of the pavilion dress code. So I sent Rohan a link to the code and left him to it.
I wondered whether his eye might fall on the “national dress” exception to the jacket and tie rule. Rohan could (just about) claim to be Burmese and turn up in a longyi with hnyat-phanat. Mind you, given the sweltering weather, I wouldn’t have minded sporting a longyi with hnyat-phanat myself, and do still have a range of such garments in my collection:
More worrying, was the thought that Rohan might don “THE” jacket, as opposed to a jacket. When Rohan took his wonderful one-man show, How I Said ‘F*** You’ To The Company When They Tried to Make Me Redundant, to Edinburgh last year, he promoted his show by walking around that elegant city thus:
Actually, Rohan turned up in a fine linen number not dissimilar to my own. We must have looked like Our Men In Havana…or, given the extensive Moncada Barracks references in Rohan’s “F*** You” show, Our Men In Santiago de Cuba.
I recalled, while waiting for Rohan, that he had written a rather scathing short piece about gap years and their dilution through ubiquity, in his book University Challenged…
…and wondered what Rohan would make of Ian and Sally’s mature gap year. Then, when Rohan arrived, I clean forgot to raise that point with Rohan. Perhaps Rohan will chime in about that latterly.
Rohan and I are old mates from Alleyn’s School. In the couple of days leading up to our meeting at Lord’s, I trawled the diaries for sporting references to Rohan, but only could find one, relating to fives, previously Ogblogged:
A Marathon Day Of Court Sport; Fives and Fridge Ball, 4 December 1974
But I did also uncover a couple of previously unreported gems of my own from that trawl, including my first ever visit to a professional soccer football match, which I immediately Ogblogged:
My “First Soccer Match”, Chelsea v Middlesbrough, 22 March 1975
…plus references to my own (previously forgotten) glories playing field hockey that same term, plus my cricketing annus mirabilis (or should I say terminus ludum mirabilis?) the following term, both of which I shall aim to Ogblog very soon.
But I should be honest about me, Rohan and sport. I don’t think either of us will be remembered at Alleyn’s for our sporting prowess. Enthusiasm and willingness to muck in with sport?; possibly. Enjoyment of the competition without taking sport (or indeed most things) too seriously?; I hope so. But prowess?
Anyway, so there I was, in the Lord’s Long Room, cricket’s holy-of-holies, with Rohan. We watched briefly in there (he’ll need to be able to say that he has done that; watched first class cricket from the Long Room) but soon moved outdoors to backache central – the pavilion benches, on the shady side of the pavilion.
We discussed ancient matters of sporting derring-do (or lack thereof). We agreed that we secretly resented those boys who were not only exceptional at sport but also exceptional at chess/academic stuff and who were also good blokes. I think we agreed that we are almost (but not quite) over that now.
In some ways the next few hours resembled my previous day with Ian T; Rohan and I similarly stuck to water and some cashew nuts ahead of a late lunch in the Long Room Bar. Today’s bap was beef rather than pork (also top notch). I perhaps made the mistake of having a glass of red rather than white today.
Rohan needed to get away a little earlier than Ian had needed to; he is busy preparing for this year’s Edinburgh show, which I saw in pilot last autumn, coincidentally only a few hundred yards away from Lord’s…
…so we rather sped our way through the post-lunch pavilion tour, view from the top deck and then some views from the rest of the ground. I showed Rohan the “front of the Lower Compton” view that I often enjoy for test matches, which shows the pavilion in all its splendour. Rohan commented that his late father would have very much enjoyed such a day at Lord’s.
So, despite the match building up to what seemed likely to be a dramatic climax, Rohan left just before tea. What some people will do for their art. Click here or the photo below for details of that excellent one-man show that Rohan is taking to Edinburgh, btw:
I sat in the Warner Stand for a few minutes, when a wave of excess heat and fatigue hit me. I rather regretted the glass of red and even considered going home to hide from the hottest part of the day. But instead I steeled myself and returned to the pavilion top deck, seeking a little breeze and the opportunity to see a potentially exciting ending.
Well it sure was exciting. Click here for the scorecard and all the Cricinfo resources on the match.
I chatted with a couple of regulars up on the top deck. Then, when the final wicket just wouldn’t come, I decided to decamp to the Long Room in the hope of inducing that final wicket and witnessing the end of match ceremony from there…
…well that did sort-of happen, but not before a further 45 or so agonising minutes had passed. I ran into one of my real tennis friends in the Long Room, who was giving an old pal of his, who lives in Dubai, the Lord’s experience for the first time. We discussed, amongst other things, cricket, politics in Pakistan and where the twain meet in the form of Imran Khan.
After witnessing the Middlesex win, we decamped to the real tennis area, where I had left my kit for safe-keeping. The other two stuck around for only 5 minutes, but I watched a rather good set of doubles while the crowds and the rush hour died down, before hailing an Uber and stepping out into the sunshine once again.
While waiting, I saw an elderly gentleman, whom I recognised, keel over while sitting on one of the benches in the shade. A member of catering staff went to his aid immediately and, once I had seen his condition at closer quarters, I told her that I thought it was serious and that we should summon medical help straight away, The staff and stewards sprung into action very rapidly, summoning a para-medic and an ambulance, at which point I thought my presence was superfluous (I am not a first-aider) so I retreated. My cab arrived just moments before the ambulance – very impressive speed from call to arrival – must have been well under 10 minutes.
The gentleman, who did not survive despite the rapid attention, was J T Murray, a great Middlesex wicket-keeper from before my time – his last playing season was, coincidentally, my 1975 annus mirabilis. JT was a regular supporter at Lord’s in the years that I have been going to Middlesex matches. A sad end to my two days at Lord’s in some ways…
…but not in others. A great former sportsman died peacefully, in his 80s, just after witnessing an exciting finish in which his beloved Middlesex team won a fine match against the odds.
The bittersweet irony of that ending won’t be wasted on most readers; it certainly won’t be wasted on Rohan.
