Astute Ogblog followers might read between the lines and conclude that I perhaps did some work that day and/but was able to spend some of the day at home with the internet radio on…
Before looking at that piece, I couldn’t have told you that the Kent v Essex game was the first of the semi-finals, but on reflection of course it was.
Daisy and I had played tennis that morning and I hunkered down with the TV soon after our return from Boston Manor.
In those days my set up at Sandall Close was a bit rudimentary – Daisy’s dapper Sony VAIO with a plug in thingie to her NTL doodah – or was it already called Virgin by then? Anyway, it was trailing wires and a bit Heath Robinson-like.
The semi-final went Middlesex’s way in a fairly convincing fashion. Daisy and I found that hard to believe, but excitedly realised that we had a final on our hands.
I vaguely remember texting Ed Smith between the matches, which was not a very good idea. I have no recollection of what Daisy and I ate, nor when we ate it, but I’m pretty sure we ate.
What a day. It’s weird that such a day yields so few new insights, but I suppose the reactions/sensations at the time, encapsulated in the MTWD links above, really do tell the story.
Ed had been injured early in the T20 campaign – see my Ogblog about the day it happened here. As it turned out, the injury was a career ending injury, but at the time Ed was simply at a loose end around Lord’s hoping to recover quickly.
As I understand it, Richard Goatley suggested that Ed have a chat with me about stuff, possibly in part to clear the office at a crazy time (SGM day), possibly in part because he thought that Ed and I might not only find stuff to talk about, but even be able to tolerate each other while doing so.
First I knew of it was an SMS, which seemed to come from Ed Smith, suggesting we meet for a chat. At first I thought it was a joke/hoax (I was editing MTWD back then) but anyway it wasn’t a hoax. I did wonder whether Ed knew that I was MTWD’s Ged, but we never discussed the matter and (strangely) I have never asked Richard Goatley whether Ed was told/knew. I might ask Richard one day.
In any case, that Tuesday I was reporting for MTWD, but there was so much else going on I was able to fill my report with stuff and not feel that I was giving the readers short change by omitting the Ed Smith bits.
I recall a conversation about Nassim Nicholas Taleb. Ed had been asked to write a review of and/or comment upon The Black Swan. Ed said he was finding it impenetrable and asked if I had read it. I told him I had read it and recommended, as a way in to Taleb, Fooled By Randomness and the essay The Fourth Quadrant; the latter (in my opinion) being much shorter and much more to the point than The Black Swan.
A few months later, Ed wrote a piece (I think for The Times) about Lord’s being the only place on earth where you can strike up a random conversation about Nassim Nicholas Taleb and end up chatting with someone who knows as much, if not more, about Taleb than you do!
Thursday
Originally there would have been no hope of getting to any more of the Worcestershire match, but in the event both of my Thursday business meetings were moved; in the case of the Z/Yen Board meeting brought forward to the Wednesday.
That enabled me to pick up a copy of Fooled By Randomness (we had a few) and take it to Lord’s with me for Ed on the Thursday. So as it turned out, I got to see two days of that match and spend a bit more time chatting with Ed Smith.
The only problem with that was the cricket, which was mostly seeing Middlesex getting beaten up by relatively lowly Worcestershire.
I remember that I did watch the denouement of the Worcestershire match with Ed and I remember that we discussed whether the player’s minds were on topic or whether thoughts of Finals Day at the Rose Bowl were more to the fore. We also wondered whether the extra day’s rest would help Middlesex ahead of Saturday’s massive event. As I recall it, our combined wisdom concluded that we didn’t have a clue.
…you’d have thought that I had enough real work to do.
Which I probably did.
But still I wrote the editorial contained in the following link, to encourage people to vote wisely in the forthcoming Middlesex CCC no confidence vote/Special General Meeting.
The irony of course was that Middlesex had got to finals day of the T20 competition and the SGM was scheduled for the Tuesday before the big day. Not ideal.
“The grass was greener
The skies were bluer
And smiles were bright”
…as Gladys Knight used to put it, back in the good old days.
I’m not sure that the grass at the Oval was greener than the grass is at Lord’s, but Middlesex had to play its hard-won home quarter-final away from Lord’s, as Lord’s was already taken for a traditional match of some description; armed services, varsity, eating an arrow, or whatever.
I’m not sure the skies were bluer in SE11 than they were in NW8 either, although the Oval is that tiny bit nearer the equator than Lord’s I suppose.
My smile was especially bright, not only at the end of the match when Middlesex won, but even before the match. I know for sure that I had gleaming gnashers that day, because my trusty diary tells me that I went to see Carita, the best dental hygienist in the world, that very morning.
My smile was certainly absent about 15-20 minutes into the match. Godleman, Shah, Joyce and Scott all back in the hutch for diddly-squat; not just defeat but the prospect of embarrassing defeat loomed. Televised potentially embarrassing defeat too.
I was sitting with MTWD stalwarts in the Oval pavilion. I particularly recall Neil “Lord of the Chairs” Walker and Chris Thomas. We also saved a seat for the late Barmy Kev who I think joined us while we were in the depths of despair. Jez I seem to remember was away, hoping to get back in time, but didn’t/couldn’t show in the end.
In brief, Dawid Malan saved the day, initially with Eoin Morgan, then subsequently with Typhoon Tyron Henderson, avoiding embarrassment and then posting a challenging score. Indeed, it turned out to be a winning score.
The mood in our group improved, to say the least, as the evening wore on. I don’t remember all that much about it, except that huge swing of emotions as the mood turned from despair to hope and eventually joy. I’m pretty sure there was some consumption of beer, unless there was some consumption of wine. I think more likely the former or a fair bit of both.
Perhaps some of the people who were there with me that evening have better memories of it and would care to chime in with some memories.
It was one heck of an evening. And if you were a Middlesex fan, you didn’t need to have seen Carita the dental hygienist that morning for the smiles to be bright, so bright.
The last T20 group match was at the Oval against Surrey. I know I missed it completely, because Daisy and I were taken out for dinner by Jamil and Souad – I’m pretty sure we went to Noura in Belgravia, but Daisy’s diary should confirm or deny when we get around to checking – see “A Couple of nights out”.
Following a working week that looked quite light on meetings and evening engagements, but did include another Z/Yen Boat Trip on the Wednesday, on the Friday, I took a day out at Uxbridge. Middlesex were hosting the visiting South Africans in a warm-up match.
A relatively quiet weekend culminating in a lunch out with my mum at Gastro in Clapham. I had not seen this Jay Rayner review – click here – when I booked it.
Actually, Janie and I rather liked the place, but I do recall that the Sunday menu was not quite as advertised and in any case the dishes on offer were of an kind unfamiliar to mum, who got a bit shirty about it all.
I’m not too sure how the matter got resolved but I seem to recall the lunch event being salvaged somehow, I think through some good staff making appropriate amounts of fuss around mum and looking after her nicely. Or did we move on to another place to get that fuss? Janie might remember.
I do recall resolving not to book such a place again for mum – the familiar “old-fashioned Italian or French bistro” places she’d been to before being the best bet for her now. Oh well.
Tour matches between county sides and visiting international teams used to be a major part of the first class cricket summer. Now they are simply warm up matches, occasionally good for the county coffers but (in Middlesex’s case) usually a break-even proposition at best at outgrounds.
But from the cricket-lover’s point of view, a delightful day of first class cricket can ensue, as it did when the South Africans visited Uxbridge in 2008.
I do remember that Friday being a lovely day. I especially remember seeing Amla live for the first time. At first i couldn’t work out what the fuss was about, but once he got set, he looked top notch.
Not that such matches matter, but for completist enthusiasts who don’t want to have to do too much clicking…here’s a link to the scorecard. Sadly the weather turned sour on the match over the weekend.
After the Richmond debacle on the Sunday – click here- Middlesex had played seven, won five, lost two. That sounded great, except that the losses were the most recent matches and we knew from bitter experience that Middlesex’s T20 squad could snatch failure from the jaws of success.
This Uxbridge game against Kent was to be the last home game and seemed vitally important at the time. A win would mean qualification for the quarter-finals. Defeat would mean the need to win at least one of the two remaining away matches.
In the end I worked from home that day. I was due to be at a meeting in Westminster early afternoon to discuss a publication on business ethics I was being asked to edit. I did end up editing it, but the meeting that day got postponed.
I ended up taking the tube to West Ruislip and walking from there – a long but pleasant walk – an easier journey on a good weather day than tubing into town and then out again to Uxbridge.
Barmy Jez, who was working for Ged Ladd & Co in those days, tubed it to Uxbridge with some difficulty if I recall correctly, arriving “fashionably late”. But Barmy Kev and I had found a suitable second row seat on the side boundary and saved Jez a seat. Middlesex were in a spot of bother when Jez arrived, but then revived, which also revived our spirits. A couple of beers probably helped revive our spirits too.
In front of us sat a father and son combination; the father quite old, the son middle-aged or perhaps a young fogey. The father turned around and asked us to quieten down, as we were disturbing his peaceful evening at the cricket. I’m not sure that the marketing gurus who invented Domestic T20 quite had “quiet, peaceful evening matches in Uxbridge” in mind when they invented the format. (Ged makes a note to ask Stuart Robertson that question if ever he gets the chance).
I had brought plenty of picnic food with me, so, during the innings break, I tried to placate the irate gentleman by offering him a packet of M&S Sea Salt and Black Pepper Cashews – a not insubstantial offering in the circumstances. The man looked at me incredulously.
“Are you taking the Mick?”, he asked.
“No, I’m sorry we disturbed you and am offering you a small gift by way of apology”, I said.
“You’re suggesting that I’m nuts, aren’t you?” said the man.
I kept the cashews.
The father and son moved their chairs a bit to place some distance between themselves and us; we weren’t regretful.
Barmy Kev suggested later that I should have offered him some crackers instead. Sweet.
The cricket match ebbed and flowed. We tried not to get too noisily excited, which was quite difficult because it was a very exciting match.
It went down to the last over. Kent was one of the better T20 sides and we all knew that team’s capacity to pull off unlikely wins. But on that occasion they fell a few runs short.
Little did we know at the time how much the match was to foreshadow the final, which took place a month or so later. But for sure that was the evening that I really started to think, “gosh, we are capable of beating the best sides even in tight finishes this season. Maybe, just maybe we could win this tournament this year”.
Middlesex’s first loss of the tournament on that Friday evening – away to Kent – click here for the scorecard – did not dampen my enthusiasm. It had been a rain-affected eight-overs-a-side affair in Beckenham against one of the very best teams – anything can happen in those.
Anyway, Janie and I resolved for sure to go to Richmond on the Sunday, weather permitting.
The weather permitted.
Daisy and I recall conversing with a Hampshire-supporting gentleman and his young son. The gentleman was quite opinionated about cricket and spoke in very critical terms about Freddie Flintoff, suggesting that he was over-rated, divisive and that England would be better off without him. Daisy in particular argued this point with the man.
The son then persistently asked me questions about the players and cricket generally, which (with the benefit of hindsight) probably irritated the father no end, as surely dad’s opinions would have more value than those of this callow stranger.
We also recall not taking a picnic with us, as we were hoping for a Middlesex out-ground hog roast. We think this was the occasion when we arrived to find that there was no hog roast (although it might have been the occasion when the queue for hog roast was too long for us to bear). One way or another, we went roast-less. If I recall correctly, we thought about going in to Richmond after the match for some Spanish food, but decided in the end simply to go home and raid our own fridge for scraps. Tragic.
Middlesex didn’t have a great day either. Click here for the scorecard. It was a grubby pitch. We thought that the bowlers had held Hampshire to a modest, get-able score, but 133 turned out to be a good score on that pitch; too good for Middlesex.
Janie was left wondering what all the fuss was about this season; the only T20 game she had seen, Middlesex had lost, “as usual”.
I think I should explain her references to the MTWD editor’s instructions for her to investigate the colour of Nic Pothas’s underpants. It was a known fact that the Hampshire wicket-keeper, Nic Pothas, superstitiously wore different coloured underpants depending on whether he was batting, wicket-keeping, training or whatever. I had merely suggested that Lizzie attempt to get an investigative journalist’s interview with Pothas, to get to the bottom of that story (as it were). Enough said.
