Since Jez Horne left Z/Yen, he and I have a rather shocking record of planning to meet up for a T20 match at Lord’s on a day that turns out to be rainy.
We expected no such problem in this glorious summer of 2018 and, as luck would have it, Jez was available on one of the few T20 evenings I can manage this season.
I arranged to play tennis at 15:00, giving me plenty of time to sauna, shower, spruce myself up and bagsy some good pavilion seats.
My opponent for the afternoon, Bill Taylor, is one of my favourite adversaries; although I tend to come off second best against him, we nearly always have an epic battle along the way.
We had an exceptionally good first set, which took almost the whole hour. Playing level, the pesky ninth game went to deuce upon deuce upon deuce…
…upon deuce…you get the idea. But in the end Bill prevailed, both in that game and then the set and match.
I took my time over warming down and my ablutions. As I was just preparing to leave the changing room, John Stephenson (MCC Director of Cricket) and Guy Lavender (the new MCC Chief Executive) emerged from one of the squash courts. They were discussing the pavilion dress code and the practicalities around the “jackets allowed off in hot weather” rule.
I was putting the finishing touches on my tie, jacket and general pavilion aesthetic look when, horror of horrors, I realised that I had come out without a comb in my linen suit’s jacket pocket and had used a kit bag that also lacks one of my emergency combs.
My hair probably looked a little like the following photo, taken at the end of a victorious tennis skills night eighteen months ago…
…perhaps a little worse when combined with a jacket and tie.
“Just as well you don’t have a bad hair rule for the pavilion”, I said “I have come out without a comb”.
“No we don’t, but don’t worry, there will be a bad hair rule in time for your next visit”, said Guy with a smile.
Guy’s smile widened a little forcedly, as if to say, “…and your point is?…”
“I’ll bring a comb,” I conceded. Need to stay on the right side of the new Chief Exec, I thought.
Jez is not exactly the sartorial type…he used to hang out with Barmy Kev for gawd’s sake…so I didn’t need to make any any excuses or explanations to him. He seemed pleased with my choice of “right up front” seat.
As always, it was good to catch up with Jez. He and his burgeoning family have recently relocated to…
…coincidentally given my visit a couple of days earlier…
We chatted about cricket. We chatted a bit about work. We chatted about…
…trigger warning…
…geeky statistics, operational research and machine learning stuff.
We both brought nibbles of the “old style Z/Yen gathering” variety with us – in my case parcel-type bites from M&S, in Jez’s case from Sainsbury. I had brought a mini bottle (250 ml) of Sancerre for myself – that should last the evening on a warm night; Jez managed a few bottles of quality beer. I remember Badger and Theakstons Old Peculiar as two of the labels.
We watched Middlesex start well with the bat, seem to get bogged down, finish better, then watched Somerset do all that with quite a bit more purpose than Middlesex.
To Lord’s for luncheon in the Tavern with Richard Goatley, Rob Lynch, Escamillo Escapillo and PD.
Not a match day, this, but a chance for a bite and to show PD around the ground.
After lunch, a quick look at the real tennis (naturally) and then, despite the fact that there was no cricket on that day, the pavilion.
In the committee room, I found this little fella occupying a seat normally reserved for a visiting dignitary or, on the rare occasions she visits, Her Maj ERII.
King Cricket relishes pieces on animals displaying conspicuous indifference to cricket. I thought this image was an interesting variation on that theme. King Cricket clearly agreed, publishing the following piece in December 2018:
We enjoyed a pleasant wander around many other parts of the ground, including the indoor academy, where Escamillo Escapillo and I got PD interested in the idea of having a go by recounting some of our tales of derring-do at that place…
Anyway, the upshot of that extremely pleasant afternoon, some months later (March 2019), appears to be this – click here. (Or, if anything ever befalls the Middlesex CCC site, click here instead.)
I turned up to play him in the morning. On arrival he greets me with the phrase:
I ran into someone who knows you the other day. Knows you from the gym or something. When real tennis came up in the conversation, he asked if I knew you.
But the really strange coincidence about that encounter was that, John told me, it was at Grace Road, Leicester, at a Cricket Society bash…
…do you mean day two of the Leicestershire v Middlesex match?…
John and I fought out a tough, some would say bitter, battle, which ended in a draw, once the nonagenarians, who were next on court, separated us combatants who, by that time, were (naturally) screaming, punching, wrestling and biting. It’s a gentleman’s game, real tennis. In fact, I stayed on for the nonagenarian doubles that day and almost managed to keep up with the oppo for an additional hour.
Later that day, once I had recovered from two hours of combat (and done a spot of work), Janie and I took dinner at Delamina in Marylebone, ahead of a rather unusual-looking late night concert at the Wigmore Hall.
We thought the food in Delamina was superb – I had a seriously posh kofta dish while Janie had a seriously posh take on turkey shawarma – but the place was very noisy on a Friday evening and the service, while admittedly delivered by universally sweet staff, was poor.
We stretched our legs and got a chance to have a conversation that we both could hear, by walking the long way round to the Wigmore Hall. While strolling, I told Janie about the strange coincidence that John Thirlwell (whom she had met at the Middlesex University Real Tennis match) had been in the next room to me all day at Leicester.
Before entering the concert hall itself, I popped to the Wigmore Hall loo. There I saw a gentleman who looked remarkably like John Thirlwell. No, he wasn’t a gentleman who looked a lot like John Thirlwell; it WAS John Thirlwell.
“This is bonkers”, I said, “you’re blooming everywhere” – to which John could only smile and agree. Thus Janie and I chatted with John and his charming companion Maggie before and briefly after the concert. John is not a Wigmore Hall regular – he had simply seen this concert listed and thought it looked interesting and different.
I often say that Lord’s and the Wigmore Hall are the last remaining places where I get addressed as “young man”. I wonder whether that sort of thing was the causal link for John Thirlwell visiting both places on the same day as me. Joking apart about fierce combat; it turns out that John is actually jolly good company, both on the tennis court (which I knew already) and also in the concert hall.
A collaboration much like the fusions in Delamina’s food, now I come to think of it.
Here is one of the pieces, from the latest David Orlowsky Trio album, which they played for us at the Wig:
Or try this tiddler, which the Wig used to promote the concert we attended:
We thought the music was wonderful fun; a mixture of smooth jazz and the sort of dance rhythms that central and eastern European music does so well, not least when klezmerised.
Janie and I sat next to an aficionado of the group who told us, sadly, that the trio is due to split soon after a mere 20 years together. Perhaps they feel it is time to pursue other projects. They are all virtuoso musicians; David Orlowsky himself utterly exceptional on the clarinet but really all three were excellent.
Quite a day; I hope John Thrilwell enjoyed his day as much as I enjoyed mine.
I have entered the MCC real tennis tournaments (handicap variety) for the second time this year – singles and doubles. With great difficulty, four of us had eventually arranged our “Round Of 16” doubles match for the late afternoon of 2 July; a day which Janie and I had arranged to take off work.
As fortunate coincidence would have it, Ed Griffiths had to reschedule the soft launch for our London Cricket Trust for that afternoon, so I was able to accept, subject to being released in time for my match and blagged Janie an invite for that low-key event too.
I shall report more about London Cricket Trust on Ogblog anon – once we have progressed from soft launch to hard launch. Suffice it to say at this stage that it is an innovative charitable venture, bringing together the four London-based counties (Essex, Kent, Middlesex & Surrey), designed to put cricket facilities – mostly in the form of non-turf pitches – into London’s parks and commons.
Ed Griffiths arranged for us to have a short Trustee meeting before the event – in part to prepare our low-key, short shpiels and in part to go through some regular business. For some reason, Janie seemed to find the idea of sitting in the Coronation Garden on a glorious summer day more attractive than sitting in a meeting room observing a Trustee meeting, but promised to return for the event, which she did.
For some reason Janie took this – perhaps to help her navigate her way back to the Tavern Stand Box for the event
The event went well, with representation from each of the four counties involved and from the ECB who are funding the early phase investments and managing the tendering processes for the installation of pitches etc. We should be ready for a formal launch, with several facilities up and running, before the end of this season.
I then hot-footed it across to the tennis court to get ready. My partner to be, Iain Harvey, had previously let me know that he thought that we were on the wrong end of the draw for this tournament (which I took to mean basically him drawing lowly me as his partner) and especially this match up, against Messrs Friend and Muir – a very experienced pair.
On arrival on the day of the match, Iain tried to put me at my ease by saying, “we’ll do well to get one game off these two”. I wondered what Ed Griffiths might make of this motivational technique. Not quite the style I could imagine Ed adopting.
Trying my best, studiously observed by my partner
Actually we did rather better than get one game, although not in the first set. We took the second set 6-5 and even managed to hang on in there to 5-5 in the deciding set, before succumbing in heartbreaking fashion to the deciding game of the deciding set. It was a bit of a thriller and I think all of us were a bit surprised at how competitive the match became in the end.
Of course I was disappointed not to qualify, but it is all a learning experience for me at this early stage of my real tennis “career” and think I exceeded expectations in that match, which is a sign of progress.
Let’s see how far I can go in the singles tournament – I’m still in that one – with the Round Of 16 still to play – and/but I have a fair bit more experience at singles. Not that I shall be going around Lord’s saying “it’s coming home” or anything like that.
Anyway, Janie took some vids. I rather like this one – where I am on the hazard (far) side on the right and emit a bestial roar as I play my shot, while Janie emits a supportive yelp when Iain subsequently wins the point for our team:
My quirky piquet serve didn’t much work against this level of opposition, but on this one occasion it did:
I even hit a winner which Janie captured on film, although it was rather lucky to end up a winner, I admit:
Janie should have taken more vids, because it seems that the only ones she took depicted us winning points…
…which is not really telling the whole story of the match…but it is perhaps telling her story of the match.
…still refer to me as “young man”: Lord’s and the Wigmore Hall.
Janie and I ended up going to both of those places on the same day, but sadly, no-one referred to me as “young man” in either place. Perhaps our mistake, in this regard, at Lord’s, was to take the youngsters, Charlie and Chris (Lavender & Escamillo Escapillo), as our guests. These terms are comparative, after all. In other regards, however, this was not a mistake, because we all four had a most enjoyable day at Lord’s.
Janie and I got to Lord’s really early, to secure enough seats in Janie’s favourite pavilion spot; the upper sun deck. And in order to achieve that, we both got up ridiculously early. Janie was on picnic duty for this one – never a quick and dirty process in the morning however much preparation can be done the day before.
Janie had sourced quite a lot of the food (and indeed other weekend food) at Finn’s – which seemed most appropriate with Steve Finn skippering Middlesex for this match.
Steve Finn congratulating Max Holden for his fine bowling. Holden can bowl – who knew? Image embedded from Middlesex CCC Website
So the picnic basically comprised some cheesy biscuit nibbles, ham rolls, sweet nibbles, beef rolls, carrots, tomatoes and grapes. A bottle of Vouvray and a bottle of Pinot Noir. Yummy.
Our little group got quite jolly and at one point there was a round of hat swapping, which left Chris looking a little unusual in Janie’s big colourful floppy sun hat. I primed my camera for a photo, but Chris felt that, as I am a captain of industry, it would be best not to have a permanent record that showed me to have been in Chris’s company…or something like that.
A suitably sensible-looking photo
The occasion was, in part, timed to coincide with Chris’s birthday. He mumbled about producing a birthday honours list, on the basis that, if the queen could have such lists, why couldn’t he?
Meanwhile Charlie (the only one of us not drinking) occasionally went into schoolmarm mode in a vain attempt to restore decorum. She seems to quite like that role these days.
Also meanwhile, Middlesex bowled really well, we felt. At no point did Australia really get away and we kept revising our estimates of the potential Aussie score downwards. Nathan Sowter took an absolutely stunning catch to secure the first wicket and perhaps settle the nerves of some of the younger players such as Barber, off whose bowling that catch was taken.
The Middlesex batting looked a little weak on paper for this standard of opposition and so it proved on grass. It’s a shame that one or two of the more senior batsmen didn’t dig in a little more, which might have given the less-experienced players a bit less to do. Still, young Holden batted beautifully and the Middlesex players for sure did not embarrass themselves. They gave the Aussies a good workout and the crowd a good match to watch.
The weather smiled on us – the sun was out much of the time but not too hot – it was warm throughout the day, even when the sun went in.
We sat and chatted in the members’ lounge for a few minutes after stumps, to let the crowds subside then walked together to St John’s Wood before going our separate ways; the youngsters further north-west, while we went two stops south to Bond Street and on to “The Wig”, to see Django Bates Belovèd and guests play jazz.
An interesting mix of bluesy, Charlie Parker type jazz and more modern, experimental (almost free) jazz – the latter type pleasing us (especially Janie) less.
Below is a vid of the trio performing without guests.
One of the guests was an incredible saxophonist, Marius Neset. Below is a vid of him performing, but not with Django:
I liked the female vocalist, Claire Huguenin, more than Janie did – I thought her vocals added subtle texture to the music, whereas Janie felt that her voice got lost in the instrumentation. Below is a vid of her performing with her own crew:
Django Bates traditionally wears hats and has adopted the beanie in recent years. His beanie on the night had a sort-of blood and vomit colouring that might have been in honour of the MCC and our earlier visit to Lord’s…
…but on the other hand the colour match was almost certainly a coincidence.
One thing I do realise about no longer being so prone to the description “young man” is that days that start early and end as late as this are no longer in my comfort zone – nor Janie’s. We were ever so happy at the end of a successful and enjoyable day, but also ever so knackered…
…and both of us feel some sense of trepidation about taking our aching backs onto the tennis court…we’re leaving in five minute’s time as I write.
Postscript 10 June
Well, Janie managed to get her body moving again marginally better than I did. But as we came off the tennis court after a long session trying to get moving again, we saw Gerry – an elderly Irish dog-walker, with whom we quite often converse.
Good morning to you, young man, good morning young lady,
said Gerry. So there is a third place where we might still, just occasionally, be addressed in that manner – Boston Manor.
It had not been my plan personally to spend three days on the trot at Lord’s for this test match.
The plans, hatched many, many moons before, revolved around a request from Charles “Charley the Gent Malloy” Bartlett and Nigel “Father Barry White” Hinks for me to assist those two in a mission to spend three days together at the Lord’s test.
The plans were:
Thursday – I would join Chas and Nigel;
Friday – just Chas and Nigel;
Saturday – Daisy and I would both join Chas and Nigel.
The logistics of implementing those plans to the point that we had tickets to enable all that were complex, onerous and uninteresting to the casual reader. Still, the plans were all in place…
…but we all know what can happen to plans…
…and Nigel’s knee decided to muck up the plans by rendering Nigel unable to attend Lord’s. Here’s wishing Nigel a rapid and speedy recovery.
The logistics of reworking the plans to the point that we were not dumped with unwanted tickets were complex and uninteresting to the casual reader. Hats off to the MCC ticket office for helping to minimise the onerousness of it.
But the upshot was that I agreed to join Charles on the Friday, so he could avoid being “Charley No Mates” that day.
Hence three days on a row for me.
Day One: Thursday 24 May
I went to the gym early and then got to Lord’s really early to avoid the crush and to observe the real tennis for a good few minutes before taking up my seat. I had learned that Mr Johnny Friendly was to be playing at doubles that morning; I wanted to observe his technique now that I play.
When I got to my Upper Compton Stand seat, about 10 minutes before the start of play, I observed that Chas had not yet arrived and that a well-built gentleman was sitting in the seat that would have been Nigel’s.
Chas arrived some 15-20 minutes after the start of play, bemoaning the length of the queues for security at that hour at Lord’s…as if he’s never been before.
“How come I’m sitting next to the big bloke?” asked Chas, in a voice that sounded, to me, loud enough for said big bloke to hear. Soon enough, though, we were both in conversation with Liam Big Bloke, who turned out to be a really pleasant young man, well-versed in matters cricket and also in matters food – he is a trainee chef working for Sat Bains in Nottingham’s only two-star Michelin restaurant.
At one point in the conversation, Chas talked up Daisy’s cooking ability in glowing terms. “Really good homely cooking,” I interjected, “not two-star Michelin style”. “I understand”, said Liam gently; I’m quite sure he did.
In fact, everyone in our immediate vicinity on our row seemed very nice. A very friendly couple to my right; the woman, Marilyn, said, “excuse me, young man” to me, on the first occasion she wanted to leave her seat. I told her that I am thus addressed all-too rarely these days, even at Lord’s and the Wigmore Hall. She seemed to find that funny but found different appellations for me each time for the rest of the day.
I wish I could speak highly of other people around us, but sadly the group of young men behind us were very loud, very drunk from very early in the day and really quite a nuisance. My back was soaked in lager at about 11:30 – anyone can have an accident, but I really didn’t appreciate them finding the incident funny and needing to be told to apologise and to try and sort out the mess.
By the end of the day, that group was singing raucous Barmy Army songs and trying (without success) to start a Mexican wave in the crowd. It’s the first time at Lord’s that I have really felt stuck in front of an unpleasant crew all day. At least the rapidly drunken posh boys in 2014 only managed to stick the first session.
In front of us was a very grumpy couple, the man of which wanted to read his book in the quiet and seemed as pissed off with our row for being gently convivial as he was with the raucous row behind us for being raucous. The woman of the couple left early.
Still, the day had its compensations, not least one of Mrs Malloy’s splendid picnics, complete with personalised notes in ornate gold-coloured calligraphy describing our sandwiches in mouth-watering detail. The centrepiece of one being corned beef, the centrepiece of the other being smoked cheese. I brought a bottle of wine, an Austrian Grüner Veltliner since you asked, which we had agreed would be enough for the two of us that day. I also brought arm-extending quantities of liquid and fruit, as promised, but Chas had forgotten that promise so also brought heavy quantities of liquid.
…Mike Archer, Trevor Cooper and Geoff Young. It was really nice to see them – it had been a while – we chatted behind the Compo stand for a while before going our separate ways.
I walked home.
Day Two: Friday 25 May
Same morning routine as the previous day – early gym, cab to the ground, virtually queue-free passage through security, followed by 30 to 40 minutes of observation from the dedans of Mr Johnny Friendly and others at real tennis doubles.
Seats at the front of the Lower Compton for today. Chas was already in his seat when I got there, chatting with the two gentlemen who were to be our neighbours for the day; Michael and Peter. A pair of cricket fans who had known each other for years and whose sons – also keen young cricketers – had ended up at the same school.
After a few casual questions, we ascertained that Michael had grown up very near me, around Tooting Bec Common and that Michael had been very friendly with the Rich family from around the corner. Michael (and Steven Rich) are a few years younger than me, but I grew up with the older sister Gillian, who was my contemporary. What a small world it is.
That pair were really good company for most of the first two sessions, until Michael got called away to a family emergency just before tea and Peter agreed to collect their children from school.
…was at Lord’s that day, just above us, with his mother, Awesome Mummy. We had arranged to meet behind the Compton at tea, but with the unexpected departure of our neighbours, I texted Simon to suggest that the Awesome Duo join me and Chas in the front row of the Lower Compo for the final session, which they did, with predictably convivial results.
Chas and I had agreed that Friday would be a light picnic and dry day. Mrs Malloy had provided some mini pork pies, sausage rolls and nibbles just to ensure the absence of the wolf from the door.
During the final session, we nibbled at some sweetmeats and Awesome Mummy’s strawberries, although we lost a few of each to the delightfully friendly but increasingly clumsy passers-by on our row during the latter stages of the game.
Chas asked me, quietly and sensitively, whether he should offer the remainder of the porky snacks to either of the Awesome Duo. I suggested better not, unsure but suspecting that Awesome Mummy might not approve.
I had pre-warned Chas (and latterly the Awesome Duo) that I would need to leave before stumps, as Friday had not been part of my plan and I had a late night concert to get to at the Wigmore Hall.
So I personally upped sticks at six (about half-an-hour before the umpires did same) and walked home.
Day Three: Saturday 26 May
Due to the change of plans, Daisy very kindly took over picnic responsibilities and we thus switched our overnight location from the planned night at Cityland to Noddyland.
So a very early start, Daisy made up a splendid picnic and we set off for Lord’s early to secure good seats in the Warner. We timed our arrival to perfection.
Ground staff getting ready…
…Ged Ladd getting ready…
…Pakistan getting ready…only England seemed unready and unsteady
Chas arrived about 30 minutes after the start of play, by which time a very nice gentleman from Fulham had done a superb job of manspreading onto the seat we had saved for Chas. Mercifully we all managed to come out the other side of that etiquette-dilemma socially unscathed.
The wasabi mayonnaise had gone down so well last year, Janie used it with the turkey as well as with the beef. We took a bottle of white (Vouvrey) and a bottle of red (Jip Jip Rock Shiraz) but no option for a bottle of rose instead.
I got a message from Awesome Sue (Awesome Simo’s sister) wondering if we were at the ground, as she was there with her sister Ruth and daughter Lily. I knew that, of course, having spent best part of a session with Awesome Simo and Awesome Mummy yesterday. In fact I had intended to message Sue myself, but she beat me to it. So we agreed to meet up behind the Warner at tea. Which we did.
Chas, Awesome Ruth, Awesome Sue, Me
Only after Daisy had finished taking photos did we realise that Awesome Lily was temporarily absent from the shoot. That is a shame, not least because Lily is probably the only member of that family to have, in cricket terms, earned the moniker “Awesome”, having consistently taken five wicket hauls so far this season for Gloucestershire Under 15s et. al.
When I subsequently reflected that we had not taken any pictures of Lily, Chas instigated a conversation about The Who:
Anyway, it was really nice to catch up, albeit briefly, with Simon’s awesomely lovely family. We needed to keep the catch up brief, for fear that we might all miss the end of the match if we didn’t keep a watchful eye over the England cricketers for the next two hours or more.
For in truth, although we had a good time at Lord’s, as always, the England cricket team had a shocker pretty much from start to finish. In fact, that final session on the Saturday was England’s only decent session in the whole match.
Not just a bad match for England – a shockingly bad one. All credit to Pakistan for playing really well, but England didn’t even compete. Click here if you dare.
At the end of the day, a steward kindly takes our picture…
An unusual week to say the least. A short one, as the Monday was a bank holiday. The bank holiday weekend weather had been glorious – Janie and I had spent most of the weekend enjoying the benefits of the garden in good weather.
On the Tuesday (8 May) I was asked to join the senior doubles at lunchtime, while I had my regular court booked at 18:00. It was a beautiful day and I was busy writing my pamphlet on Bullshit jobs, so thought that a few hours writing long-hand would do the piece and my posture no harm. I was right.
On the Wednesday morning I went to collect my Estonian e-Residency card, so i am now officially an e-Resident of the Republic of Estonia. Once I had finished my heavy writing sessions, I looked at some Arvo Pärt music in the evening to celebrate my new status.
On Thursday I had a rather frustrating music lesson as my machine kept playing up – in fact all of my machines seemed to be on go slow for some reason. Then Janie and I went to the Pear Tree for dinner with Toni, John and Tom Friend, plus Deni & Tony. Excellent food and an interesting evening.
…before I went on to Lord’s, playing a good game of tennis at 10:00 and then sticking around for the cricket. Janie joined me for most of the final session of the day, before we both went to the Middlesex kit sponsors party, which was fun. Always a nice bunch of people there.
Not only all that, but I got a lot of work done that week too. No wonder I was well-tired by the end of it.
Once again I found myself selected to represent the MCC against Middlesex University Real Tennis Club; a match scheduled for 28 April. But that was not to be my only Middlesex v MCC experience that week.
Tuesday 24 April – Middlesex v MCC
On the Tuesday, 24 April, there was an historic cricket match between Middlesex CCC Women and MCC Women at Lord’s. As it happens, largely by coincidence, I had arranged to play tennis at Lord’s that afternoon. So I rose early to get my work out of the way, taking the afternoon out to watch a couple of hours of cricket and do some leisure reading before playing tennis.
I commuted to Lord’s by public transport and found myself in a swirl of schoolkids and teachers on the Wellington Road – some arriving at the ground for the match and some leaving (there had been another exhibition match in the morning).
Do not be deceived by the empty stands in the photograph below, which I took from pride of place in the Warner Stand. The Grandstand was ram-packed with youngsters watching the game. As I understand it, 5,000 to 6,000 people attended the day, making it the largest ever crowd for a domestic women’s cricket match.
In truth the quality of the cricket was less than special. It reminded me a bit of Janie’s and my first experience of Women’s test cricket, at Shenley in 2003, in cricket quality terms. So there is room for improvement but also proof positive that improvement can come quickly – by 2009 when Janie and I attended the Women’s T20 World Cup final at Lord’s…
From my vantage point at the front of the Warner Stand, I did need to keep an eye on each ball in case it came sailing my way, but equally was able to do some reading too. I was re-reading chunks of “What To Listen For In Music” by Aaron Copeland, with a view to helping my nascent instrument-playing, not least in the matter of transcription, adaptation and shifting modes/keys.
But I was interrupted quite early in my reading by a young woman with a strong Scouse accent who had never been to a cricket match before and wondered whether I could explain “the rules” to her. She in particular wanted to understand wickets.
Unfortunately Middlesex Women at that time seemed signally incapable of taking any wickets – not even the relatively frequent potential catches that were being offered, to help me demonstrate the ideas.
Nevertheless, my pupil seemed to get the idea of catches and clean bowled wickets quite easily. Stumped and run out seemed a little further from her experience, so we both struggled a bit when I tried to explain those. I then paused momentarily to try to work out how (or even whether) to explain LBW, when the young lady told me she needed to meet a friend, thanked me profusely and took her leave of me. I was a little relieved to be honest…as was she, I suspect, as I spotted her at the end of the innings sitting on her own at the front, a few blocks away from where she had collared me. Perhaps she was now explaining “the rules” to an “imaginary friend”. Nevertheless, she waved at me as if greeting a long-time pal.
It was well cold that day. I watched and read from the comfort of the pavilion for a while, before changing and playing two hours of tennis; an hour of singles which went very well and then an hour of doubles, to help me get my head into the doubles side of things for my impending match. After I played, I tried without success to find out the result of the women’s cricket match – both the MCC and Middlesex websites put up photos straight away but not the result.
Friday 27 April – Warm-Up Practice Doubles Ahead Of Middlesex v MCC
When I realised that, by chance, my Friday singles match was to be against one of my MCC team-mates, David Mitchell-Innes, I mentioned this fact in bant form in response to one of the organising e-mails from Carl Snitcher, the team captain and my doubles partner for Saturday’s match:
I hope you are training hard for our role in this fixture. Mr Mitchell-Innes and I are due to do battle towards the cause on Friday…
…so you’ll either have two perfectly honed team members or a last minute need for two substitutes.
This kicked off a flurry of e-mails, initiated by Nick Hewitt (David’s doubles partner), that resulted, instead, in the four of us having a practice session together.
This sounded like a brilliant idea; an opportunity to have four perfectly honed team members. Except of course, when the competitive instinct kicked in, we soon realised that there was the risk we’d end up with a last minute need for four substitutes.
Carl bowed out a little early (it had been kind of him to stay on to join us at all) so when the practice match reached its inevitable denouement at one-set-all, five-games-all, forty-all…
…and I somehow, single-handedly managed to prevail…
…naturally emotions were running high. I don’t have a film clip of real tennis concluding in such a competitive spirit, but I have found a similar-looking example from women’s ice hockey:
Being Friday morning, fortunately, both Mark Ryan and Chris Swallow were on hand to help all of us to leave the court with our dignity intact and mop up ahead of the senior gentlemen, who were next on court.
In retrospect, I think this style of preparation worked better for Messrs Mitchell-Innes and Hewitt than it did for Messrs Harris and Snitcher.
Saturday 28 April – Middlesex University Real Tennis Club (MURTC) v MCC
So to the big day. Janie had kindly agreed to join us for the afternoon and help us to eat what I predicted to be, based on my previous experience of this fixture,…
…a sumptuous lunch provided by David Sloan. I was right about the lunch.
Janie and I attempted to play modern tennis first thing, but the weather was unexpectedly shocking at 8:40 when we arrived on court and we gave up, drenched, at 9:00.
We got to Hendon while the first rubber was in full sway; a close-run affair which MURTC took by a hair’s breadth. Heartbreaking, it was. Almost enough to put one off one’s food. “ALMOST” I said.
So while the next rubber was in full sway, most of us took advantage of the delectable spread. The highlight was a superb joint of roast beef, but there was also smoked salmon, a fine selection of cheeses, plus bread, potatoes and salad.
We socialised. We ate. We got to meet John and Catherine’s delightful cocker spaniels. We watched Messrs Mitchell-Innes and Hewitt take full advantage of their practice session from the previous day to level the match 1-1.
At that stage of the afternoon, Carl seemed less concerned about the impending battle with MURTC and more concerned about doing battle with his internet service provider, who had simultaneously threatened to cut off his services unless he paid his account, while seemingly making it impossible for Carl to pay. At roughly the same time, David and Will did battle with a computer, a large television set and a TV subscription website, to enable us to see the final chapter of the 2018 World Singles Championship.
Next up for MCC was Sebastian Wood and Chris Stanton, the latter I have, coincidentally, known for over quarter of a century from my time writing for NewsRevue – he was the first professional actor ever to perform one of my lyrics:
No comedy involved in the fierce contest of this tennis match, though. But by the time that third rubber was concluded, MURTC were leading the fixture 2-1 and most of the crowd was watching the telly rather than watching the live tennis.
Naturally Janie (Daisy) took pride of place in the dedans gallery, along with a few others, to watch me and Carl Snitcher do battle with a pair of mighty gladiators from MURTC. Even more naturally (to anyone who has seen Daisy play modern tennis) she was cheering and applauding points won from false shots, dodgy bounces and net chords as vociferously as good shots.
In short, it is probably just as well that most of our MCC team-mates were watching the telly during that final rubber. It was all over rather quickly, MURTC winning the match 3-1, at which point those of us still on court mixed it up and played for fun for a good few minutes longer.
After that, we all decompressed and enjoyed some social minutes while watching the very end of the 2018 World Singles Championships on the TV.
Sadly, I don’t have any film clips of this year’s MURTC v MCC match, nor of the 2018 world championships that people were watching on the TV. I do have a couple of similar clips, but they have got all mixed up and I really cannot tell which is which – I’ll have to leave it to the viewer to judge:
Anyway, the match was a great success, both as a sporting and as a social occasion. With thanks not least to David Sloan for organising the fixture and food, Will/MURTC for hosting and making the match run…and of course to Carl for trying to organise the MCC team – a task that might be described as, “like trying to herd cats”.
Janie and I went on to the Finborough Theatre that evening, where, most unusually for the Finborough, the drama was not so much to our taste.
Attempts to get John Random (aka John Burns) to see some real tennis at Lord’s had not gone particularly well, previously, with John being called up to appear in a meerkat advert last time he was due to come see.
So when John called on the afternoon before our arrangement for 6 April, because he had a last minute call to be a 1940’s MP, we both thought the worst.
But in the end, as the call turned out to be 15:00, we still had time 6 April for John to see me play. As it happens, the contest turned out to form part of an unusual type of hat-trick. This was the second of three singles matches in a row in which my opponent had a double-barrelled name. Such names are not exactly rare amongst players of real tennis at Lord’s – but three in a row must be quite a rarity. In any case, I played well (by my own modest standards)…
Hopefully I have come on a bit in the 18 months since this photo was taken
…then John and I took some lunch at Mazi in Notting Hill Gate before he went off to be an historic MP.
I’d forgotten how good a place Mazi is – and so convenient for a local lunch. So when Stephen “Stentor Baritone” Barry got in touch on the following Monday with the good news that the Lord’s tickets we thought had got lost in the post had in fact been returned to him, I suggested we meet at Mazi for a quick bite on the Tuesday to avoid further possible postal misery. A very enjoyable lunch and a good chance to catch up, as we hadn’t seen each other for some months.
The Lord’s tickets in question are for Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett and Nigel “Father Barry White” Hinks, who shall be joining me and Daisy (Janie) on the Saturday of the test match.
But Charley and I had/have some cricket to see in advance of that test match – not least and first up, the opening day of the season at Lord’s – now a traditional meet. I produced a picnic in my traditional stylee. Smoked salmon bagels, Iberico ham muffins and a fine Riesling (Alsatian on this occasion) forming the core.
Gawd it was cold at times that day. But we suffered for our love of cricket and sat it out at the front of the pavilion.
The MCC have been granted permission to use floodlights for the County Championship matches this year, which is a real coup and/but frankly overdue. I understand why local folk didn’t want untrammelled use of floodlights at Lord’s in the evenings, but they cause no disturbance during the day.
We’d probably have had no play at all without the lights and indeed, because it was so gloomy, only got a limited amount of play – about half the day’s play – even with the lights.
Middlesex had of course been inserted by Northants and I thought did well to battle it to 136/4 by the time stumps were drawn.
No shame there, though. John Random had been similarly “stitched up like a kipper” by it. Indeed it seems to have fooled most people.
I dare Ogblog readers who missed the posting over Easter to click through, watch the little vid and work out what was going on.
But enough of Lauds and back to Lord’s…
…play ended a little early and the day ended all too quickly, as always. I shall be joining Charley at Chelmsford next Friday, with the weather forecast suggesting a more pleasant climate for cricket than that gloomy opening day. But it had been worth it for the splendid company and the cricket, of course.
For many years I have claimed that there are only two places left on the planet where people still refer to me as “young man”; Lord’s and The Wigmore Hall. I must admit, though, it’s been a while since anyone has addressed me as such in either of those places.
As it happens, ahead of this Gresham Society event, I spent the early part of the afternoon at Lord’s, playing real tennis, as has been my wont since the spring of 2016. Real tennis is a fiendishly difficult game to play. The professionals point out that the 150-200 court hours I have put in so far leave me “barely out of nappies” in real tennis terms. Presumably I will go through a “young man” phase eventually before becoming a senior player.
We have several senior gentlemen who continue to play into their late 80s and even into their 90s.
Sadly, the video from that bout did not get saved – my opponent that day quite possibly asked for all evidence to be destroyed and frankly, given the circumstances, I don’t blame him.
After tennis, a relatively quick visit to the Z/Yen offices to sort out one or two work things before setting off, with Michael Mainelli, to the London Capital Club.
I think Michael was hoping that we’d be about five minutes late, thus missing most of the AGM, which Tim Connell had promised to keep to seven minutes.
In truth, we arrived just as the formalities were starting, so were able to appreciate all 12 minutes of the promised seven minute AGM.
Then some pleasant chat with several friends before descending to the dining area.
There was no seating plan, but I was lucky to sit with the Ayliffes to the right of me and Margaret Hodson to the left. Discussions with the Ayliffes mostly revolved around the political mess our nation (and indeed much of the western world) seems to me making of itself.
I knew about the musical side to the Hodson family, but was unaware of the horsey side, until that evening. The work that Margaret Hodson does with horse riding for disabled people is truly remarkable – click here for an independent view on it about 10 years ago.
The food was pretty good. A chicken salad round thing which was very well presented and tasty. The toast was quite hard – so much so that Margaret Hodson (and several others at our table) gave up on it. When she saw me persevering, Margaret gave a running commentary on my efforts, which could easily have been horse trials commentary, including the slightly disapproving/disappointed voice when one piece of the toast went flying towards the floor – no doubt a four-point penalty.
Then a slow-cooked lamb shank dish – a good idea for a large function and a very full-flavoured. The dessert was a crème brûlée.
Afters at Gresham Society – no waffle hereGyles Brandreth gave an excellent address to the Society. Clearly he was well briefed, so after an amusing potted history of the ups and downs of his career, he spoke highly of the Gresham Society. Gyles placed emphasis on the fact that we are the Friends of Gresham College, waxing lyrical about the benefits of societies that are genuinely friendly.
I totally agree. The Gresham Society is, above all, a very friendly bunch of people. We have a shared pleasure in and purpose through Gresham College, but it is above all a friendly group. For sure that is why I like to attend whenever I can…
…even if Basil teases me almost every time about my aversion to filling in forms and Tim Connell tries to find increasingly convoluted ways to avoid having me play my baroq-ulele…
…but I digress.
Towards the end of his talk, Gyles Brandreth mentioned younger members of the Gresham Society and I thought he might have glanced at me as he said it.
There was a little time left after the address for some more chat with friends before I realised that it really was time for me to head home.
As I was leaving, when I went up to Gyles to congratulate him on his talk and say goodbye, he told me that he was looking at me when he mentioned the younger members. I told him that I thought my days of being addressed as “young man” at Lord’s and The Wigmore Hall were behind me, but perhaps the Gresham Society, now a third outlet for what remains of my perceived youth, will revive my fortunes in that department.
