England v West Indies, 5th Test, Oval, 31 August 2000 but not 4 September 2000

Thursday 31 August 2000

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.

Click here to see the match scorecard.

I was reminded of all this 18 months ago (summer 2015) when King Cricket cricket wrote a piece about the summer of 2000 – click here.

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.

Oh well.

Janie’s First Taste Of Test Cricket, England v New Zealand, Day Three, Oval, 21 August 1999

Everything that needs to be said about this day at The Oval has been described beautifully by Daisy (aka Janie) on the King Cricket website, published a short while after the event (18 February 2025).

If anything ever befalls the King Cricket site, you can read that report here.

My only quibble with Daisy’s piece is her opening line – “I had never been to a professional cricket match before” – as I considered the world cup match, Zimbabwe v Australia, at Lord’s, a professional match:

No doubt Daisy will try to blame me for feeding her a duff line, but I don’t suppose anyone who knows about anything will expect me to take that sort of blow on the chin.

Just in case anyone out there wants to know what actually happened cricket-wise in the England v New Zealand test at Lord’s, click here to read all about it.

My First Taste Of The Great Cricket Tradition That Is The Heavy Rollers, England v New Zealand Test Day One, Edgbaston, 1 July 1999

A Facsimile of David Steed’s 1999 spread, actually Jeff Tye’s 2003 spread, Photo by Charles Bartlett

I have written up the tale of the “aha” moment, in July 1998 (click here or below), when I learnt about The Heavy Rollers and they twigged that I shared their devotion to cricket.

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.

Here’s a link to the cricinfo scorecard.

Below is a highlights reel for the series.

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…

The Day The Heavy Rollers Entered My Consciousness & Indeed When My Devotion To Cricket Entered Theirs, 23 July 1998

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 played cricket for the first time in many years the night before – a match between tiny Z/Yen and great big Barnardo’s

…so cricket would have been very much at the front of my mind. All the more so, because the third test match between England and South Africa was starting that day.

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.

Nigel – get your word-processor out!

Postscript – Nigel got his word-processor out:

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.

Guest Piece by Nigel Hinks: The Birth Of The Heavy Rollers Tradition, Edgbaston, June 1998, Including The Revelations And Acts That Led To The Birth

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.

The Heavy Rollers Tradition

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).

Beechwood Hotel Latterly Renamed But Seemingly neither Refurbished nor Reopened

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.

David Steed will have made a superb picnic, much like the one depicted alongside the headline of the 1999 Heavy Rollers piece (the photo actually showing David’s splendid 2003 spread). David’s picnic – in particular the wine – would no doubt have triggered the traditional Sneed snooze.

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.

Here is a link to the 1994/95 4th Ashes Test at Adelaide scorecard.

Below is a 24 minute highlights package.

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.

Here is the scorecard for the 1997 1st Ashes Test at Edgbaston.

Below is a highlights reel for the first day of that match:

Returning To England v South Africa At Edgbaston, June 1998 And Its Aftermath

Here is a link to the scorecard from that 1998 England v South Africa test match at Edgbaston.

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.

As Nigel summarises it:

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.

My First Visit To Lord’s, England v Pakistan Day Two, 26 July 1996

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.

Here is a link to the scorecard from the match.

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.

My First Ever Day At A Test Match, With Graham Majin, England v Australia Day 3, Oval, 27 August 1977

Bob Willis, photo by Brittle heaven~commonswiki, CC BY-SA 4.0

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.

The only problem that day was the rain. Lots of it. I suspect we got about an hour of cricket the whole day – here’s the scorecard.

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 before
Me 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.