“Leicestershire For The Championship?” : One From The Archives (Alas)

I’m afraid that – once again –  coverage of Leicestershire’s latest defeat, this time to Worcestershire by nine wickets, has had to be held over, due to lack of time and, frankly, inclination.  Predictions are always tricky things, but, although my horse Yorkshire have stumbled alarmingly in the closing straight of the Championship race, I’d say the figurative money I have on Leicestershire for the wooden spoon is already earning interest in the bank.

But my time at Grace Road on Saturday was not entirely wasted (it never is).  I satisfied most of my Christmas card needs with this year’s offering from the Friends of Grace Road shop (a charming snow scene of Grace Road, as always) and whiled away the time as Worcestershire crept largely unimpeded to the 187 they needed to win the match by flicking through some back copies of The Cricketer I’d picked up from the same source.

The Spring Annual of April 1983 particularly held my attention.  It was something of a shock to be reminded of quite how conservative the magazine was under the editorship of Christopher Martin-Jenkins.  The whole thing is such an instructive time capsule of the period that I intend to save it for some Wintry day to write about in full, but – as a taster – it contains an article entitled “A body blow to Apartheid : Michael Owen-Smith reviews the extraordinary success of the [rebel] West Indian tour“, a full page of poetry submitted by readers, “Geoffrey Beck: an unsung cricketing cleric” by Alan Gibson, a history of Rutland County Cricket Club and a piece by Guy Williatt (“former Captain of Derbyshire and Headmaster of Pocklington School”) arguing for the continuing relevance of independent schools to the health of English cricket.

Different times, but the biggest jolt – given the context in which I saw it – was delivered by coming across this (at the head of a piece in which “John Thicknesse of the New Standard previews the Schweppes County Championship”).

Predictions, as I say, are usually odorous (Leicestershire finished fourth that year) but I have to admire the self-confidence displayed here.  Perhaps for next year’s Christmas card Josh Cobb (our current Captain and the son of Russell, the man in the natty sheepskin and cloth cap combo to the right of the picture) could be persuaded to re-enact this scene, substituting “promotion” for “Champions”?

The Disagreeable World of John Lydon

I’ve been catching up on my reading, and happened to be browsing through the Silver Jubilee special edition of Punch

(- ah, those eminently civilised and agreeable humourists of yesteryear – Basil Boothroyd! Sheridan Morley! Christopher Booker! – not to mention my dear old chum and quaffing partner Wallace Arnold) when I came across this –

Now, to my rheumy old eyes, this looked very much like an advertisement for that innovative recording Metal Box by Public Image Limited and, indeed, the (dread word!) logo does look very similar.

“But how can this be?” – quoth I – “surely the Sex Pistols were still in full flower in Jubilee Year, and have I not just – a few pages earlier – been reading some good-natured chaff on that very subject by dear old Kenneth Robinson?”.  Closer inspection (with my reading glasses on) revealed that it was an advertisement for Metal Box Limited, the well-known manufacturers of … metal boxes.

Now there is nothing wrong with a little creative reappropriation, or as our chums sur le continong say détournement* (though who would have guessed that the young Lydon was a subscriber to Punch?)

But imagine my surprise when – coming a little more up-to-date – I read this in the latest edition of Mojo magazine –

“The duo [i.e. Wobble and Levene] booked four early February dates … billed as “Metal Box in Dub” to air instrumental improv takes on PIL’s classic album from 1979.  Wobble, however, contacted MOJO to say that … he received a letter from John Lydon’s lawyers threatening legal action, and that … Lydon sought to copyright “Metal Box” in his name alone …” 

A fine kettle of worms, methinks.

(*A détournement is a technique developed in the 1950s by the Letterist International and consist in “turning expressions of the capitalist system against itself.” as Wikipedia puts it).

Tremlett’s Full Enormity

I fear that complaining about changes in linguistic usage is an early warning sign that I’m in danger of  taking up permanent residence in the snug at Ye Olde Farte, but this one really does create a misleading and rather unkind impression.  From an interview in The Cricketer with England’s 6’8″ fast bowler Chris Tremlett.

“Chris Tremlett’s face appears in the window of the entrance to the Surrey offices at the Oval.  It is a small pane of glass, his is a substantial face and he has to duck to make himself seen by the receptionist inside.  It is a mildly disconcerting sight : Lurch meets Jack Nicholson in The Shining.

Once inside the pokey reception area Tremlett’s full enormity becomes apparent.”

And everyone says what a nice man he is, too.

(“Enormity – refers to something monstrous or wicked, not big” – Guardian Style Guide) 

Young People These Days …

From this month’s Cricketer.

Sajid Mahmood of Lancashire and Gerard Brophy of Yorkshire are answering questions about Roses cricket.

Q – How many County Championships have Yorkshire and Lancashire won between them?

Mahmood – Three.

Brophy – No, it’s got to be more than that.  I reckon seven.

Mahmood – Never.

A – 37.  Out of interest, which of the two counties has won the Championship most?

Mahmood – It’s got to be Lancashire.

Q – Name the top five Test run-scorers who played for Yorkshire and Lancashire?

Mahmood– What about Fairbrother?  David Lloyd?

Brophy – We’ve got four. Vaughan, Boycott, Atherton and Hutton.

Mahmood – Sutton?  Luke Sutton never played for England. 

(Geoffrey Boycott – Now that’s what I call …)

Ted Dexter and the Incomparable Beauty of Modern Dress

Can’t be too long now before the start of the season, as this month’s Wisden Cricketer comes accompanied by the Equipment Supplement.  In fact, it isn’t called that anymore, but – in homage to that puzzlingly popular motoring programme on the telly – the Good Gear Guide.  It also features some character known as “The Don” – apparently a professional cricketer employed to test the bats, who wears a helmet to hide his identity and is introduced thus – “Some say he’s one ball short of an over … some say he bowls round the wicket … all we know is he’s called the Don“.  For Heaven’s sakes …

I’m past the age now when I’m likely to be buying any new equipment, but I do like to keep up with the latest trends.  The supplement also, I think, provides an explanation for the alarming slump in form of Craig Kieswetter – clearly down to having to play on through the enormous discomfort caused by having poured a pot of boiling hot tea down his chest.  If only someone had explained to the poor colonial boy how to use a teacup, all of this could have been avoided.

   

The kit on offer seems reasonably restrained this year, with nothing that makes the players look – as most one day kit tends to – like the employees of a branch of Minnesota Fried Chicken.  I can’t help but pine, though, for the days when England cricketers presented themselves to their public like this –

A.E. Stoddart

 rather than this (strewth, there’s a bloke down there with no strides on etc.) –

Paul Collingwood

But surely it must be possible to achieve a compromise of some sort – a synthesis, if you will – between elegance and practicality, style and function?  Well, of course, one man did try – who else but Ted Dexter, a man never afraid to think outside the abdominal protector.  Knock off an elegant cameo 65, back to the pavilion, off with the flannels and on with a pair of houndstooth Daks slacks and a floppy velvet bow tie and it’s look out ladies!  Ding dong!

This year's collection from the House of Dexter

Travel Restrictions Announced

Bringing together a couple of recent preoccupations, it sounds as though, if I fancy leaving the country again, I’d better get a move on – if an interview with Ray Davies in the latest issue of Uncut magazine is to be believed –

Uncut – So now they’re leaving [the country] for a different reason?

RD – Yeah, and there’s a lot of people doing that.  I think by this time next year, our rights to leave will be taken from us.

Uncut – This time next year … say that again?

RD – Our rights to be leave the country will be … It will be more difficult for us to leave the country.

Uncut – Why?

RD – Because they’ll stop us.

Uncut – Who will?

RD – The Government.

Uncut – They’ll stop us leaving the country?

RD – (Patiently) – Our rights will be gradually eroded.  There’ll be no freedom of movement … I sound crazy, but so be it.  They’re eroding our right to travel.  Ryanair is making life more complicated.  What was 60 quid a pop is now 200+ a pop.

Uncut – But Ryanair is not the Government.

RD – No, it’s private enterprise.  But I think soon this government will restrict our rights to travel.

Uncut – And you don’t just mean making it difficult for people to emigrate?  You mean stopping people from going abroad on holidays?

RD – Yeah.  Mmm.  Mmm.  Yeah.

Uncut – You really believe this?

RD – The other night, I went to this event.  The Prime Minister of this country received an award from somebody who was a presenter on Al Jazeera (Laughs loudly).  They just don’t care any more.  We’re talking about serious power … I don’t see Cameron as a bad man.  I see him as what he is.  Someone you bump into in the Home Counties. I’m not frightened of him.  But I fear for what he’s capable of  …

Blimey!  Things are worse than I thought.

The Lost World of The Cricketer

I did promise another glimpse into the lost world of  the nineteen-seventies, as represented in the pages of The Cricketer, so here – true to my word – is a poem from the Spring Annual of April 1975.

The annual contains two poems – one, by the statistician Irving Rosenwater, is a response to the battering that England had taken over the Winter in Australia, and begins “Hammond! Thou shouldst be living at this hour” – the other is this, by one N.F. Bell (slightly unfortunate initials in the circumstances).  I imagine the last line is meant to come as a surprise, which I suppose it does.  Curiously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it anthologised.

 

The Immigrant

 

He moved into the district just the other week.

His manner was quite friendly so companions he did seek.

He joined our local cricket club, met members one and all.

At practice he showed promise with the bat and with the ball.

 

Last night he made his debut with the first eleven side.

He must have been quite nervous; his first ball was a wide.

But after that, he settled down and gave a fair display.

Nothing you’d call brilliant but enough to make his day.

 

We think he’ll be an asset and popular with the lads.

He’s just an average fellow with his own peculiar fads.

Like the rest, he’ll take his chances in games we lose or win.

And we’re not at all concerned with the blackness of his skin.

 

Well, thank you, N.F..  That was very – erm – well-intentioned.

Scarborough in a Changing World (1973)

On my last visit of the season to Grace Road I picked up a couple of old Cricketers (not cricketers) in the Friends of Grace Road shop – from December 1973 and the Spring Annual from 1975 (a relic from the days when cricket had seasons that co-incided with those of the natural world). 

Given a full set of Cricketers one could compile a wonderful alternative history of the game, by pushing the marginalia to the forefront – the things that must have seemed quite normal at the time, but have been turned by time and tide  into something rich and strange.

There is enough in these two issues alone to keep me going for quite a while (“Oh good!” – the Readership), but, as a taster, I was pleased to see some confirmation of my belief that the Doors had replaced the usual band at the 1964 Scarborough Festival and that this incident had inspired the song “Summer’s Almost Gone” (I outlined my theory here).

Gerald Pawle, from an article entitled “Scarborough in a Changing World” –

“Not long ago, too, there was even a monstrous experiment on the North Marine Road ground itself, the Town Band being temporarily replaced by a gentleman performing on an electric organ!  Now, the Town Band may have had its detractors.  Its repertoire had not noticeably changed, to my knowledge, during the past forty years.  Many of the bandsmen did not seem to have changed, either, but their rendering of selections from Rose Marie and The Desert Song had an old world charm, the tempo according beautifully with the more studious innings of R.E.S. Wyatt, while their version of the Eton Boating Song had a tremulous quality which greatly moved all who heard this Festival anthem struggle to its noble conclusion.” 

The “gentleman performing on an electric organ” was, quite clearly, Ray Manzarek.

Ivan Massow questions the very nature of reality (with a bit of help from Joan Collins)

On my way to Birmingham today I pick up a copy of that indispensible publication Countryside La Vie – available free from Market Harborough Railway Station and many other prestigious retail outlets.

I am surprised to read the following article –

“Banksy’s coming for dinner film launch party

On 15 June Joan Collins and Ivan Massow hosted a star-studded private party in the Penthouse Suite of the stunning 5* May Fair Hotel to mark the launch of Ivan Massow’s new film ‘Banksy’s coming for dinner’.

Banksy … is a film within a film and questions the very nature of ‘reality’ at every level.  The film stars Joan Collins alongside Percy Gibson [JC’s husband?], Tara Newley [JC’s daughter], Paul de Freitas [of course!] and … Tamara Beckwith.”

I had no idea that Ivan Massow had turned his hand to film directing (direction?).  Politics (Tory turned Labour turned Independent Mayoral candidate who didn’t actually stand), insurance tycoon, Director of the ICA, MFH, yes – but there’s clearly no end to the man’s talents.

So I can only speculate why this artwork – which I’m confident improves on the efforts of such as Antonioni and Resnais in the matter of questioning the very nature of reality – has received so little attention.  Why isn’t it visible at the multiplexes of Leicester and Kettering?  Why can’t I see it at the Market Harborough Film Club?  Why can’t I remember reading any reviews?

I sense a conspiracy by the rascally left-liberal elite to suppress this revolutionary work.  Something must be done!

(I see they even had Gloria Hunniford and Piers Morgan at the launch party – bet they didn’t get that calibre of celeb out for Last Year at Marienbad).

Gary McKinnon : a retired Squadron Leader writes

An (apparently) genuine letter to Private Eye this week – (lightly abridged)

“In spite of reams of comment about Gary McKinnon in the Daily Mail, the real reason for US insistence on his extradition … has never been suggested.

It is an absolute fact that a single individual of normal means, especially anyone ill or just curious, cannot penetrate the computer systems of major American defence and security installations …

The reality is the same in all these situations.  A foreign power or agency, and we can speculate as to which that might be in this case, recruits a vulnerable and unwitting stooge to act as a front for their carefully planned and highly resourced penetration.  The attacking country or organisation provides their “agent”, through innocuous contact, with all the likely means to mount a remote attack.

When the penetration is discovered … the sponsoring organisation melts into the crowd, leaving the hapless individual to face the music.  In Gary McKinnon’s case, the USA is desperate to interrogate him to discover details of his sponsors.  The UK security agencies … will not be willing to undertake a sufficiently robust interrogation  of McKinnon to satifsy the US authorities.”  

Yours faithfully

Sqn Ldr J.N. Bennett (RAF Ret’d)

The truth’s been staring us in the face all the time, damnit.