Edward Heath & Richard Nixon, February 1973, Their Respective Falls Imminent
A few out of the ordinary matters cropped up in my diary at that time.
Sunday, 24th February 1974
NOT usual classes. Visited Motel in hospital. Kalooki 19p.
Monday, 25 February 1974
PE – v. good. Handcraft good. Cricket Banson in [??].
Tuesday, 26 February 1974
Classes good. Likely Lads, v good.
Wednesday, 27 February 1974
Chemistry, good. Fives v good though I lost 16–14, 10–15, 15–10.
Thursday, 28 February 1974
Election day. Classes, polling station. Annex, 440–700.
Friday, 1 March 1974.
Election cliff hanger. Water polo, good. Drama, good.
Saturday 2 March 1974
School morn, good. Penalty prize good. Exam tomorrow – prepared.
Sunday…Visited Motel In Hospital…
Motel was someone my Grandma Anne had picked up along the way. Goodness knows where she found him…probably in a kosher hotel in Bournemouth. Or in central casting having asked for “an alte kaker from the schmutter trade”.
Grandma Anne’s friend Motel was always nice to me but consistently promised more than he ever delivered. On one occasion he told me that he was going to make me a little velvet suit…I’m still waiting. Not that I think, in retrospect, that I was or am the little velvet suit type.
I’m pretty sure it was on this occasion, in hospital, wired up to a cardiogram machine, that Motel, hand shaking, “gave me a little something”, probably 10p, which, according to my father, sent Motel’s cardiogram readings haywire. Perhaps my dad exaggerated for effect.
Monday…The Banson Mystery
Until this week, my cricket training reports had been either pithy – “good / v good” or explaining my own derring-do such as taking catches or wickets. This week I mention something pertaining to Mr Banson and I cannot for the life of me read the word. Here’s the entry blown up and enhanced as best Photoshop can:
So what was “Banson in…?” My memory of him is mostly as an impatient, old school games master whose motivational technique was primarily based on applying his hand to the boys’ heads with some force.
I would really appreciate it if the hive mind of Alleyn’s alums were to transliterate the offending word/words.
Rest Of the Week
A rare mention of loss in the fives on Wednesday. The unnamed warrior who beat me was almost certainly Alan Cooke.
Thursday and Friday I am clearly pre-occupied with the general election. I have no idea what 440-700 means in that context on the Thursday – possibly the number of people they estimated to have voted at that Synagogue-annex-cum-polling-station in Brixton. Marcus Lipton prevailed in that constituency, which will have pleased my mum who always spoke very highly of him.
No idea what “Penalty prize” means. I don’t think it was a TV show – perhaps it was something we did as games on a Saturday at school.
Sunday, 3 March 1974
Exam went well. Andrew [Levinson] came for lunch, editing learned how to splice.
Monday 4 March 1974
Cricket good. HEATH RESIGNED.
Tuesday, 5 March 1974
Art papier-mâché. Classes good. Okay walk.
Wednesday, 6 March 1974
Fives, v good. Instruction from elderly man – played in old and new courts.
Thursday, 7 March 1974
Physics 9 out of 10. Classes paper. Purim at Bolingbroke – female singer.
Friday, 8 March 1974
Water polo scored and saved goal. Drama v good.
Saturday, 9 March 1974
School morning. Typed play in afternoon. Doctor Who v good.
I’m a little surprised to see “learned how to splice” at such an age – I thought I’d been editing tapes from an earlier age than that. But on reflection, I realise that the splicing method required for reel-to-reel tape included an open blade and my guess is that my dad needed convincing that I was ready to use something as potentially dangerous (to myself I hasten to add) as an open blade.
Monday: Our Political Correspondent Writes
I love the fact that “Cricket Good” is trumped by, in block capitals, HEATH RESIGNED on the Monday.
Tuesday: Spelling Bee
My attempt to spell papier-mâché has to be seen in the original to be believed. Still, how would you have spelt it, dear reader, had you not seen my spell-checked version in this article?
Wednesday: Rugby Fives Tuition From Elderly Man, Aged 41
When I raised the matter of this “elderly man” with Mike Jones a few years ago, he informed me that it must have been John Pretlove, a name that rang a bell. A fine county cricketer and doyen of Rugby Fives, John was, at that time, often at a loose end and would come down to his alma mater, Alleyn’s, to watch and give informal instruction to the boys.
I was a little shocked when Mike told me that John was 41 in early 1974.
“But I seem to remember having to help the elderly man down from the viewing bench when he offered to help me”, I said. “He was already not in good shape by the early 1970s”, said Mike, “he’d worn out a lot of parts playing multiple sports”..
This might have been the occasion that Barry Banson had clipped me around the back of the head and called me “uncoachable” in front of John. I was upset, as I had been humiliated in front of this senior fellow. But after I helped John Pretlove down from the viewing bench he showed me what he thought Banson was trying to show me – getting my front leg well forward, getting right down to the ball and using my shoulder to give the ball some humpty around the walls. It became my best shot, both left and right-handed.
Rest Of The Week
I’m not sure which was the greater miracle – me scoring 9/10 in a physics test or me scoring and saving a goal at water polo. Several of the people in my year who really were good at water polo might read this piece at some point. Please let me know what you think…as if you guys need any encouragement to let me know what you think.
I’m not sure which of our “plays” this might have been, but this was the fruit of our drama class so it is just possible that this “typing of play” reference is about the Greek classics piece I have previously written about.
Sir (Ian Sandbrook) certainly won’t remember, but he might just be able to make out what I was saying about Mr Banson on that first Monday of this fortnight. After all, Mr Sandbrook had a lot of practice trying to make out my scrawl (and that of others) 50 years ago. Here’s the extract again, in colour this time.
