When reviewing the 2005 Ashes series, the great commentator, Richie Benaud, would relate tales from letters he had received from senior people, captains of industry even, describing hiding behind the sofa unable to watch the denouement of some of the tighter matches, such was the level of emotion invested in these incredible multiple-day sporting events that we call test matches in cricket.
The Edgbaston test, which several of us fortunate folk known as the Heavy Rollers experienced live in part, was such a match. While our live experience, which started so brilliantly for us the night before…
…was over as a live experience for us at stumps on Day Two, of course it continued for us as a television and radio experience for the next couple of days.
Before that, someone (often it was Nigel), will have helped me get at least part of the way, if not all the way, to Birmingham New Street for my train and I probably got to Janie’s place around 9:30/10:00 at night for a shower and then some deep sleep.
No doubt Janie and I played tennis in the morning, ahead of hunkering down with the radio and/or television for most of the Saturday.
It was a seesaw of a cricketing day if ever there was one. England looked to have surrendered their second innings for too little, then Australia similarly found it difficult to avoid frequent dismissals.
But Janie and I could not stay at home all day and watch cricket – we had tickets for a dinner and show at The Kings Head, Islington: Who’s The Daddy, a satirical farce. Not the sort of show that Janie would normally want to see, except that this show was largely about a larger than life journalist/editor named Boris Johnson and his affair with fellow Spectator journalist Petronella Wyatt. Without reaching to breach any professional confidences here, Janie had professional reasons (as well as idle curiosity) to see this show.
Janie and I set off for Islington quite early, with England in a good but not yet totally secure position. Michael Clarke & Shane Warne were at the crease together albeit seven down but accumulating runs. I think the only reason that the match was still going on at that hour was because England had taken the extra half hour to try and finish the match, but that idea didn’t seem to be working. I’m pretty sure Janie did the driving, thank goodness. We were listening intently. We parked up near the theatre and sat listening to the last couple of overs. Then Steve Harmison bowled THAT ball to remove Clarke on the stroke of stumps.
That Steve Harmison ball at the end of Day Three is at c22’30”.
Janie and I were in celebratory mode as we entered The Kings Head. Australia still more than 100 behind, just two wickets left…what could possibly go wrong?
No matter, we were in a great mood. England were on the verge of a vital win…
…or were they?
I’m pretty sure we played tennis again, early, on the Sunday morning. Then we hunkered down in the near-expectation that England would quickly take a couple of wickets and we could relax for the rest of the day.
It didn’t quite work out that way
I must say that I personally never got to the “hiding behind the sofa” stage, but there was a lot of oohing and aahing, that’s for sure. I started off watching in the living room, then migrated to the bedroom so I could put my feet up and await what I thought was the inevitable win…then I wasn’t so sure…then I starting to think it was an inevitable “yet again” loss on the way.
Janie kept insisting that it would all come good in the end, but once the lead had been reduced to 20-30 runs, she couldn’t sit still nor could she bear to watch.
By the time the England victory came, I was, by then, absolutely convinced that England were about to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.
But in the end we celebrated, Janie reminding me that she had been insisting that it would come good for England all along. Yeh, right.
I had , in a moment of extreme lucidity disguised as madness, procured, the previous autumn, six tickets for Day Five of The Oval test, just in case England were able to take the 2005 Ashes series to the wire. I had kept very quiet about this purchase, just in case the social workers of The Children Society, on learning of this purchase, conspired with a couple of doctors and had me put away for gross insanity.
A coupe of hours after the Edgbaston victory, it felt like the right moment to fess up to this purchase. I called Chas, who was in one of those “trembling voiced Chas” states, but he did make some informed comments on the outcome of the match and immediately said yes to the idea of joining me and Daisy at Day Five of the Oval test, should the series come to that.
I told Chas that I intended to call Nigel next.
Chas told me that it might be best to leave it another couple of hours or more. “I called him a few minutes ago and he still could barely speak”, explained Chas.
Nigel in full flow
Nigel doesn’t lose his voice lightly.
I did speak with Nigel later that day, who was still somewhat of a quiver. It is a shame he wasn’t able to join us at the Oval, but still that Oval story will make for another excellent Ogblog piece, not least because it will be awash with Charles Bartlett’s colourful pictures.
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:
Steeped in controversy, the 2002 visit to Trent Bridge. For reasons unbeknown to me, the idea of visiting Edgbaston in May for the early season test match there was rejected by the elders of The Heavy Rollers, in favour of this excursion.
The following e-mail from Nigel, dated 7 November 2001, sort-of explains.
Dear Jeff, Ian, David, Charles and Nick,
We agreed, I think, unanimously that we won’t resume our traditional places at Edgbaston this coming year given that it is taking place in May. However some mutterings abound for us to up sticks and try Trent Bridge. This would be for 8th and 9th August, in Nottingham, against India (2nd Test) and it would mean adding in some accommodation costs if we do the 2 days.
So, before I do anything, could you let me know if you are interested.
In the end, neither Jeff – who pulled out of this idea quite early, I think – nor Nigel – who ended up withdrawing at the last minute due to Viv’s sudden and unfortunate indisposition – attended that year.
Indeed, on subsequent occasions, there were even suggestions (mostly emanating from Jeff, I suspect) that 2002 should be scrubbed from the record of Heavy Rollers events, by dint of it not being at Edgbaston and neither featuring Jeff nor Nigel.
Unfortunately, there is nothing in the sacred texts of The Heavy Rollers to provide a categorical answer to this question. Something akin to Exodus 20, with its tablets of stone and explicit commandments, might provide unequivocal guidance. But Nigel’s revelation that led to the Heavy Rollers is less tangible than that:
My judgment on this point is clear. Nigel had organised the 2002 event and would have been there but for mishap. Ipso facto it was a Heavy Rollers occasion. Anyway, history is written and shaped by the victors; I am writing the history of The Heavy Rollers and I have deemed this most certainly to have been a Heavy Rollers event.
Importantly, 2002 was the first visit for several people who had, or have, a regular spot in The Heavy Rollers story – in particular Dan Steed and Harish Gohil.
Dan – at home with The Heavy Rollers in 2003Harish in 2004 – by then a regular Roller
There was also an early example of a “one hit wonder” guest appearance that year. Here is the cast list from 2002:
Harish “Harsha Goble” Gohil (a 2002 initiate);
Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett;
Nick “The Boy Malloy” Bartlett;
“Nick’s Mate” Matt (a one-hit wonder, Heavy Rollers-wise);
Me “Ged Ladd”
David “David Peel” Steed (second day only);
Dan “Dan Peel” Steed (a 2002 initiate – second day only).
We stayed in a hotel described in my records as Nottingham Premier Lodge. No Premier Inns go by that name now and there are several in Nottingham – it might have gone or it might have been this one…or at least one that looked like this – click here. It was functional, most certainly adequate, inexpensive, and also, it has to be said, rather soulless, as such places tend to be.
I seem to recall those of us who were staying at the hotel ahead of Day One (all but The Steeds) purchasing a picnic of sandwiches, drinks and snacks on the morning of the match on the way to the ground. Not yet the post-Steed fierce debates, about Doritos and the like, that latterly echoed through the hollow chamber of Harborne Waitrose on the morning of the match. Nor the beautifully crafted and curated picnics provided by Mrs Malloy to ease the pressure on the pre match Day One proceedings. For Day Two, I am pretty sure The Steeds brought with them a fine picnic for us all; that tended to be the Steed way.
In Jeff Tye’s absence, I picked up the mantle of running the prediction game…a mantle that Jeff, within a year or two, ended up leaving on my lap for posterity.
Below is the very first prediction game template that I produced.
The unfortunately absent Nigel had secured us excellent seats. For Day One we were at the front of the Fox Road Stand, for Day Two at the front of the Radcliffe Road End.
The match was badly rain-affected, such that we only got the equivalent of one day’s play across the two days; roughly two sessions on Day One and one session on Day Two.
I especially remember Dan Steed sensing that the authorities made sure, on Day Two, that we got precisely enough play to deny ticket refunds but no more than that. I suspect that the matter was coincidental rather than by design, but who knows?
On Day Two especially there were lengthy breaks in play – it was very disjointed. I recall someone (either Dan or Matt) buying one of those souvenir mini bat and ball kits, with which we (mostly me, Nick, Matt & Dan) engineered some quite enjoyable “yard cricket” around the back at the Radcliffe Road end.
We probably looked quite comical – I have asked Dall-E to help me to reimagine the scene:
Studying the scorecard, I realise that those of us who were there on Day One witnessed Steve Harmison‘s debut and those of us who were there on Day Two witnessed Harmison’s first two test wickets. Priceless treasures for our memories of live cricket-watching, those.
Observant readers/link-clickers of the above link will have spotted flag wavers in the crowd quite consistently waving the Flag of India, which, in their hands and the hands of most wavers, looks like this.
Flag of India, regular look
Unfortunately, Harish went his own way with the waving of his India flag at the front of the Fox Road Stand, waving the flag thusly:
Flag of India, Harish style
Some India supporters spotted Harish and his flag and approached him. They gently explained to him that he was wielding the flag upside down. They also kindly explained to Harish and to all of us the significance of the colour scheme,: the green symbolising the land of India, the orange symbolising the glow of the sun above that land.
I have never forgotten their explanation and would henceforward be very sure which is the right or wrong way up…and why.
In a similar “never to be forgotten” vein, we Heavy Rollers have never let Harish forget the Indian flag incident, just to make absolutely sure that Harish never makes that same mistake again. We think of it as an act of kindness and educational policy to remind him about the matter at least once every four years when England play India…and occasionally on other occasions too.
Naturally, Harish’s trademark smile doesn’t leave his face when we are having such conversations.
I remember Harish cheering when England took a wicket, which to me seemed anomalous with the waving of an India flag. I asked him who he supports when England played India. His reply, typically harish, I paraphrase:
I love it when England play India, because whoever wins, my team has won.
I was reminded of this wonderful attitude recently, when chatting with one of my real tennis friends from Leamington, who said, again I paraphrase:
I always win when I play real tennis. I am on court playing a game I love. That’s a win. I am spending time with friends I want to spend time with. That’s also a win. I also try to win the match I am playing, but even if I don’t win that, I already have won two out of three.
I think this attitude translates also to Heavy Rollersism. Of course we want to see our team do well and go on to win. But even on the occasions when it doesn’t go so well for England…or on the rare occasions when we see little or no play, it is still two wins out of three because we are watching the game we love with people with whom we want to spend our time. That Nigel was on to something when the Heavy Rollers idea was revealed to him from behind the curtains in 1995.
I have documentary evidence to prove that I went to the Oval on the first day of the fifth test. Not much was arranged by e-mail in those days, but I wrote an e-mail to TMS. I was reminded of same, today (13 January 2017) as a result of some discussions about left and right-handedness on King Cricket – click here – which triggered a memory that I possess a great essay on the subject in The Boundary Book: Second Innings.
I found the book. Marking that very essay in my copy of The Boundary Book: Second Innings was a printout of the following e-mail, to TMS:
In the hope & expectation that Nagamootoo will be selected for the Oval, try this limerick for size.
There is a young man Nagamootoo,
Who the girls find it hard to stay true to;
He’s a little too shy,
Like the song by that guy,
Named Limahl from the group Kajagoogoo.
Do look out for us today, near the front of the Peter May North Stand. A monkey, a green rabbit, four chaps (including two American rookies trying test cricket for the first time) and a yellow duck named Henry. Henry bears more than a passing resemblance to Henry Blofeld.
Ian
Earlier that same summer at the first test with the Heavy Rollers, plus Hippity the Green Bunny, Henry the Duck but no monkey. The monkey joined our household later.
We met Bananarama Monkey-Face in Pickering in early July 2000. This photo from 2014, after he’d established his own small-time writing career.
FALSE MEMORY PARAGRAPH
I have a feeling that the first day of the fifth test must be the occasion that Jeremy, Michael and I went together, with the additional American Rookie being a client or prospective client of Michael’s who turned out to have the attention span of a flea. He watched for about 5 or 10 minutes, got bored, wandered off and made us feel thoroughly irritated, as we knew loads of people who would have loved that hot ticket. As Michael said afterwards, “I’m not making that mistake again”.
CORRECTED MEMORY PARAGRAPH
Following an e-mail trawl for other summer 2000 matters, I realise that the above memory is false, or rather a memory from a later year/test match day. On 31 August 2000 the attendees were:
me
Michael “Timothy Tiberelli” Mainelli
Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett
Bob “Big Mac” Reitemeier (this pseudonym previously unused, but in the grand tradition of On The Waterfront characters as pseudonyms).
Both Michael and Bob were suitably interested in the cricket and indeed both have attended first class cricket and/or played several times since their initiation that day. Perhaps Charles also has some memories of that day. Big Mac e-mailed to say:
I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed the day. I must admit that I did follow the events on Friday, Saturday and Sunday with some interest following my induction on Thursday. Great stuff. The hook has been planted…
What about Monday?
But far more importantly, Aggers clearly liked my limerick a lot, because I heard him read it out at one point and learned that he broadcast it more than once during the day on that first day of the match.
I got very excited on the Friday, as Clean Business Cuisine (still available at all good bookshops, both on-line and real world) had just come out and we were promoting it heavily, so I got our book PR lass, Tanya, to bike a copy of the book to the TMS team at the Oval with a note of thanks re the limerick. I am now sure that such effort and expense is utterly futile. We live and learn.
That evening (the Friday) Janie and I saw Anthea and Mitchell. My diary says so. On the Saturday evening we saw Maz – my diary says so. I think it was her goodbye party ahead of going off to Malawi. A trawl of Janie’s diaries (and other people’s memories) at some stage in the future might well retrieve more stuff about those two evenings.
Monday 4 September 2000
Somehow, England, a shocking test match side at the time, had got itself ahead in a series against the (once) mighty West Indies (heck, they still had Walsh and Ambrose in those days, ageing though they might have been).
Going into the final test, England were 2-1 up. And now England were poised, in a great position to win the historic match and series on Day 5.
Several of us recovered our memories for that piece and commented. Here’s my comment about 4 September 2000:
I remember taking an early call from Big “Papa Zambezi” Jeff on the final day of the series, wondering whether I wanted to join him on a walk-up expedition south of the river (Thames, not Zambezi) to the Oval. He reckoned we’d still get good seats walking up Day 5 and it turned out he was right. But I had unmovable client commitments that day (long since forgotten by me and probably the clients), so he walked up and got splendid seats for an historic day without me. I made amends by buying Day 5 seats for the Oval in 2005 as a precautionary measure; Big “Papa Zambezi” Jeff was one of the beneficiaries of that forethought.
Well I have now looked up my diary and can see exactly what I did that day. I was sort-of on a deadline with an important report. Plus lots of calls. But I did have some slack that week.
Could I have burned some midnight oil and caught up? Of course I could.
Should I have gone with Jeff that day? Of course I should.
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…
With thanks to DALL-E for collaboration with the images
This is the tale of a memorable moment, a short and sweet vignette, that went on to help forge many years, indeed decades of friendship and kinship over cricket.
The Sweet Anecdote Of That July Day
I had arranged to spend the afternoon with Jeff Tye at a Children’s Society project in Mitcham; one that Jeff had chosen to be a pilot in our seminal performance measurement and recording project, MART.
I think I had already arranged to visit my parents in Streatham that evening, so I think there was an element of opportunism in the choice of project, although I recall that Mitcham was one that Jeff was especially keen to involve.
I had arranged to pick Jeff up from Children’s Society HQ, having spent the morning with another client relatively nearby (Regents Park).
Jeff was a relatively new client to me then – I think I had only met him a couple of times before this day. I remember rehearsing in my mind a way to broach the question of possibly putting the radio on with test match special as we drove from Clerkenwell to Mitcham. I ended up with a form of words along these lines, just before starting the engine:
Please feel free simply to say no, but would you mind if I put the radio on with test match commentary as we drive from here to Mitcham?
Jeff beamed from ear to ear.
Oh my goodness, I’d been wondering all morning whether or how to ask you exactly the same question. I’m so pleased you asked me!
I thought Jeff might give me a hug, he seemed so pleased.
As we drove along, Jeff explained to me that almost everyone I knew and was working with in that charity was fanatical about cricket, not least: Ian Sparks, Edward Bates, Charles Bartlett, Nigel Hinks and himself.
He also explained that he and several others (including Nigel and Charles) had recently spent a day at Edgbaston watching the first day of the test series.
Jeff and I did our bit at that Mitcham project. When we came out, the sun was shining on a glorious summer’s day. I had arranged to drop Jeff at Tooting and then go on to my folks.
Janie, with Nobby, at his last resting place
I had recently acquired Nobby; my wonderful souped-down Honda CRX, which was convertible by dint of removing its solid roof. Jeff was keen to enjoy the benefit of that, even for a short drive.
You’ve got to take advantage of that feature when you can. How many times have you taken the roof off? [Once before, I think was the answer. Perhaps twice.] Anyway, you’ve got to show off that feature to your parents by arriving at their house with the open top.
Of course Jeff was right. So there we were – big Jeff – quite clearly oversized for a small car like Nobby – in the passenger seat – me – in the driving seat – driving along Tooting Broadway and Tooting High Street, listening to the cricket.
South Africa were only four down and nearing 200. I stopped at some traffic lights. Then a crescendo from the radio:
…the umpire’s given him…
Jonty Rhodes, LBW, b Angus Fraser.
Jeff and I both cheered and (to the extent that you can leap when wearing a seatbelt) leapt in the air. Passers by must have thought that we were a pair of lunatics.
The Traditions Forged
Those summer weeks of 1998 were, for me, a reawakening of my devotion to cricket. We had arranged a second game of cricket with the Barnardo’s people; I re-engineered it to include Children’s Society folk as well as Z/Yen and Barnardo’s
Of course, I cannot write the story of the actual origins of The Heavy Rollers. That story can only be written by one of the people who attended Day One of the Edgbaston Test in June, witnessing a rare example in those days of England batting long.
In fact – let’s name names here – the true Heavy Rollers origins story can probably only be written by Nigel “Father Barry” Hinks, who can also relate tales of proto-visits to matches with colleagues before the 1998 outing that is deemed, by all the leading authorities, to be the first actual Heavy Rollers event.
It’s hard to believe that the Heavy Rollers tradition will be quarter-of-a-century old this year, as I write in January 2023.
When I look at the names connected with the, for me, seminal summer of cricket that was 1998, I am still in touch with so many of them. Not just the Heavy Rollers, but also Kevin Parker and Ian Theodoreson who initiated the playing of cricket tradition that was later adopted even more wholeheartedly by the Children’s Society gang. Even Angus Fraser, who took the wicket that made me and Jeff leap. is still in my orbit, through my Middlesex and Lord’s activities.
I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.
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.
Picture taken from the Compton Stand at a Test some 20 years later.
There are only cryptic messages in my diary, but I do remember this day well:
Cookie Lords
Charlie Barnett 98 before lunch
Olly
Heather Rabbatts
Cookie in this instance is James Cooke, who was doing a bit of associate work with us, mostly introductions. As it turned out, the most fruitful introduction Cookie made (from my personal/selfish point of view) was introducing me to Lord’s.
Believe it or not this was my first visit to Lord’s. Little did I know then how much of my time I would end up spending in that wonderful place.
Why Cookie mentioned and I wrote down that factoid about Charlie Barnett, is a mystery. Perhaps Cookie had met or was related to Charlie Barnett?
I wrote down the names Olly and Heather Rabbatts in different coloured ink from the other notes – I’m guessing I wrote the latter two while at Lord’s with Cookie. I cannot remember who Olly is/was. I do recall that Cookie wanted to introduce us to Heather, whom he knew. She was a high flyer who at that time had recently become Chief Executive at Lambeth.
It was an informal invitation – just the two of us, me and Cookie sitting in the Compton Stand. That stand was still quite new then and did not yet have the sweep/link to the Grandstand, as the new Grandstand was still a year away.
England were not a good side in the mid 1990s and looked out of their depth batting against that fine Pakistan bowling line up, which included Wasim, Waqar and Mushtaq.
I remember Cookie providing a splendid picnic – I guess that was to be the prototype for my informal hospitality picnics in the coming decades.
I’m sure I thanked Cookie at the time but there is no way I could have thanked him sufficiently for planting that Lord’s seed in my psyche. So 20+ years and hundreds of visits later, I’d like to thank Cookie again for the introduction to Lord’s.
The diary entry is pretty blasé about this momentous day:
Went to test match. Mostly rained off etc. V good what we saw (Graham and I).
I’m pretty sure this was my first ever day at the test. But it seems that I was so laid back in those days, perhaps my first one entirely passed me by.
Graham Majin and I had spent a great deal of that summer together making our second animated film, Speare Trek. More on Speare Trek will appear on Ogblog in the fullness of time. (Including a link to the film once I work out a way of digitally patching it back together again). We’d finished filming earlier in August and I think (reading between the lines of the diary) the last of the rushes had returned to us from the processing lab earlier in the week of this test. Younger readers will need a glossary and a book on the history of film to understand what on earth I’m on about.
Anyway, one of Graham’s uncles was a journalist who tended to be given test match tickets for the Oval. A pair of hot test tickets for the Saturday filtered down to us.
I have a few good memories of the day. I remember the Australian players wandering around and chatting to the few hardy souls (which included me and Graham) who stuck around in the hope of cricket.
The Aussies had been beaten up in the test series (they were an insurmountable 3-0 down before this test started). They were also, unbeknown to us, riven by the Kerry Packer business, news of which was soon to break. Yet still they did their bit for the attendees. Respect.
I especially remember Kim Hughes as part of that wandering, sociable pack; I also remember some young women, near us, drooling over Hughes. Graham and I wondered what he had that we lacked.
Graham late summer the year beforeMe late summer the year before: trophy but no cigar
Despite our extreme youth, the crowd-deprived bar folk of the Oval seemed only too happy to serve us beer. Thems was different times. I do not recommend that 14/15 year old readers try to emulate our behaviour.
But the central character of the day was Bob Willis. Renowned as a terrible batsman (he famously once went out to bat without a bat), he scored 24 not out in this innings, almost his personal best. After the innings break, he then took a wicket before stumps were drawn.
Graham and I still had beers in our hands when stumps were drawn and certainly weren’t inclined to drink quickly or rush away from the ground, so we stuck around a while before wandering down to the Oval tube station.
When we got down to that southbound platform, there, with his cricket coffin, was Bob Willis. We asked him where he was going. Bob explained that he had friends in Streatham and was going to stay with them for the Sunday – a rest day back then.
I don’t remember where the conversation went after that, nor indeed exactly how we all went our separate ways, each to subtly different parts of Streatham.
Graham might remember, but I doubt it. Bob’s even less likely to remember.
Meanwhile, that sighting of Bob Willis on the underground has gone down in King Cricket/Cricket Badger folk lore as the very pinnacle of “cricketer spotted” activity – click here for recent (at the time of writing) validation – an accolade indeed.
