Ramblings From The Chair September 2009

As usual the arrival of September see the drawing to a close of another season in the Heart of England League. The barbeque summer we were promised by the boffins at Bracknell never materialised and we again had to get full value for money from our waterproof gear but as ever we battled on and got through the season damp but with our spirit unbroken.

At the time of writing some of our teams are preparing themselves for the excitement of competing in our Cup Finals. Now I don’t know about you but I always find Cup Finals exciting whatever sport they take place in. Whilst winning the league is achieved through a sustained effort during the whole year, winning the cup has a more glamorous prestige. One slip up and that’s your lot for another year but winning a few under sudden death circumstances you have the chance of raising some silverware.

I can remember in my dark and distant past when the THE Cup Final was a time of pure pleasure. The build up over several days until that Saturday in May arrived and me and my dad were always invited to our next door neighbours house for the whole event, as they were the only people in our tower block who had a colour TV.

Cup Final Grandstand was always our choice of viewing, not only because David Coleman was the best commentator but because ITV could never match the thrill of Cup Final “It’s a Knockout”, presented by the effervescent Stuart Hall and his trustee sidekick Uncle Eddie Waring. I will never forget that first Cup Final in colour and the sight of Charlie George lying full stretch upon the hallowed turf after scoring an absolute scorcher to win the Cup for Arsenal

Who knows maybe it will be one of the Tanworth or RSJC players who will prostrate himself on the green at the feet of his adoring teammates after drawing in the winning shot to win the Heart of England Cup. Now that would be worth seeing.

Something else that may be worth seeing is the Heart of England’s representative game against our friends from the Northfield & District League. There has been a slight change this year as we are playing the match on a Sunday morning, the traditional time for Northfield games and we are looking forward to a great game at Weoley Castle Working Mens Club on 20^th September. It has however been a struggle to get a team out this year as the match conflicts with, amongst other things, the Women’s County Final in Blackpool but I feel sure I speak for our whole League in wishing our Heart of England regulars well on their odyssey to the Waterloo Hotel.

Despite all other distractions it would be good to see and hear your support for our attempts to wrest back possession of the Walter Grimes Trophy.

So that is the last you’ll hear from me this year as again I will be unable to attend the Annual Presentation. However I know it will be left in good hands and that it will once again prove a popular and enjoyable evening. So until I see you all again I will say au revoir and leave you with these pearls of wisdom, firstly from the English romantic poet Robert Southey “No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth” and for those of a more contemporary bent from Tom Petty “You and I will meet again, When we're least expecting it. One day in some far off place, I will recognize your face. I won't say goodbye my friend, For you and I will meet again”

See you next year

Chris Smith

Ramblings From The Chair - July 2009

Little did I realise when I began writing my regular Ramblings column some three years ago, how difficult it would be to find bowling topics on which to expound. It seems for the past two years one topic has found its way into nearly everything I have written. The truly awful weather. However this season word from the Met Office was for a summer of uninterrupted sunshine, with both players and bowling greens (or at least those without the luxury of an irrigation system) displaying varying shades of brown. So what happened to our predicted heatwave? It appears to have been washed away by the torrential downpours that now seem to form the fabric of our daily life. Club Secretaries can be seen wandering around in a state of total bewilderment as they attempt to juggle their diaries to fit in rearranged games. Depression reigns and with my mental stimulus in freefall I did actually think of making some lame excuse and say I couldn’t write anything this month as I was ill, maybe I could say I had been struck down with Swine Flu but that has been done before with far more success than I could hope for. Some of you may recall in the 1970s and 80s reading a regular footnote at the bottom of some non-descript column in the New Statesman, The Spectator or the Sunday Mirror, Jeffrey Bernard is unwell. Bernard’s was a, supposedly, regular columnist for these publications in which he chronicled his life as a wit, raconteur and old soak who held court on a daily basis with other like-minded folk in the Coach & Horses Pub in Soho. Unfortunately he frequently was unable to file his copy due to his almost constant inebriation and resultant hangover, hence the footnote. Jeffrey died as a result of his lifestyle in 1997 but he found a wider audience for his wit posthumously following the successful and highly acclaimed Keith Waterhouse stage play Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell.

With that avenue of escape closed off to me I need to focus on the job in hand but my mind will not bring forward the words. Maybe I’m getting old and my grey matter is beginning to deteriorate. But even old age isn’t an excuse for not being able to put pen to paper once a month. Look at journalist Alistair Cooke,  

  he continued to write and broadcast his weekly Letter From America on Radio 4 right up until his death in March 2004 aged 95. In comparison I am a mere baby and should not yet write myself off as passed it.

Looking at people like Alistair Cooke and the subject of previous Ramblings, Clement Freud who was still writing up to his death at 85 the old phrase “Many a good tune is played on an old fiddle” rings true. These days people just don’t seem to live longer but appear fitter and more active in later life than in previous generations. If you take a look through the results in the Heart of England Over 60s league you will see many names who have been familiar fixtures on the bowling scene for many years and who still perform at the highest standard.

We have Jack Badham, who up till last season was still representing the Warwick & Worcester at County Level. His team mate at Kings Norton Terry Moss, a former All England Champion, who is still a formidable opponent. George Tonks, of RABL, who has previous been chronicled in Straight FromThe Heart as an International Flat Green bowler. Even our own Heart of England Merit was won this year by a regular member of our Over 60s representative team Phil Richardson from Wythall.

Just thinking about the achievements of these veteran performers has cheered me up no end and shown me that I have many good years left in me still. Even the sun has begun to shine, metaphorically if not physically. I’m sure come the August Edition of Straight From The Heart I can think of something to Ramble on about.

Returning to the theme of Swine Flu, a bowling colleague of mine recently returned from holiday in Mexico. Unfortunately upon his return he was taken ill and rushed to hospital for emergency tests. He awoke from the tests alone in a private room with only a telephone on a table the side of his bed. The telephone rang and the voice on the other end said “This is your doctor, We’ve had the results back from your tests and I’m afraid to tell you that you have a highly virulent and contagious strain of Swine Flu.” Oh my god!! Exclaimed my friend, “What are you going to do doc? “Well” replied the doctor “We are going to put you on a diet of pizza, pancakes and pitta bread” “Will that cure me?” asked my friend. “No” replied the doctor “But they’re the only foods we can push under the door.

See you soon

 Chris Smith

 Ramblings From The Chair - June 2009 

I would like to begin this months Ramblings by thanking those people who not only read these musings but take the trouble to let me know of any snippets of interest arising from the content of the column.

I would like to thank Mick Logan and Tony Irving who upon reading about the former Birmingham City player and bowler of note Fred Pickering, whom I mentioned last month, approached me with the following information. Apparently Fred played for the Comet Bowling Club in Chipperfield Road, Castle Bromwich. The secretary of the bowling club back in the late sixties was Alan Instone who coincidentally was also Secretary of Birmingham City F.C. and it was he who learned of Fred’s ability on the green and persuaded him to turn out whenever he could. The Comet at that time must have fielded quite a star-studded line up at this time as Mick and Tony also told me that fellow Birmingham City players Malcolm Beard, Geoff Vowden and Welsh International Trevor Hockey also turned out.

For those who never had the opportunity to play at the Comet it was a quite tricky, and usually quick, 3 ender which gave a fantastic view across Birmingham Racecourse at Bromford Bridge. Unfortunately when I played there the only view was of Castle Vale Estate and the experience was further diminished by the wind and rain lashing across the green unhindered by building or vegetation. The Comet sadly folded in the late 1970s and despite a short resurrection in 1982 closed altogether shortly afterwards and those famous names became but a distant memory. If anyone knows of anyone else famous who played bowls in the area I’d be glad to hear from them.

The recent hot weather coupled with the memories of days past brought to my mind the summer of 1976. At the time you had to be 14 to be able to play in the Leagues and as I was only 12 at the time I was confined to playing only in club competitions. I will not forget being allowed to make the numbers up in the Club Pairs of my Club at the time, the Greet. I remember my partner on the day being one of the top players at the Club, Tommy King and also us losing in the first round to my dad and his partner Jim Walton. I remember never having played on anything so fast and how difficult it was to keep even my small 2lb 8oz woods on “the Island”

Draining the memory banks further I thought, what was the fastest green I ever played on? The answer to this is a green which unlike the previous two mentioned still enjoys bowling to this day. The green in question is the Queslett. I recall turning up there one Saturday afternoon in the 1990s in soaring temperatures. It was a reasonably small 4 ended green with a crown you may consider surprisingly high for a small green. These two elements combined to make the afternoon’s bowling difficult to say the very least. My team was heavily defeated but in compensation I received the kitty money for the remarkable score of 20, a score which it took me 1 hour and 55 minutes to accumulate. Can you imagine starting a game at half past 3 and not finishing it until 25 past 5!

Of course these days many greens have some sort of irrigation system or method of getting water onto the green so we may not see these days again. I’ve noticed also as I stare wistfully out of the window remembering those carefree days of youth, that the sun has gone in and it has started to hammer it down with rain!. Time to get the diaries out again to rearrange fixtures.

See you soon

 Chris Smith

Ramblings From The Chair ~ April

The season is barely a month old and already I’ve added hundreds of miles on to the clock of my poor put upon Ford Fiesta by travelling to the far flung reaches of the Midlands in a vain attempt to supplement my meagre finances by securing envelopes of prize money of various piffling amounts in obscure competitions.

It’s amazing that no matter how far you travel to compete in these events you always see the same people and as the years go by you can automatically tell the players who do well. I believe there is a mathematical theory that will explain the size of a player’s bag he carries with him is directly proportional to their ability to win games. What on earth do people take to bowls matches? Some of the bags I’ve seen players lug around resemble coffins. I could go on holiday for a fortnight and not take a bag as big as some.

Whilst on the subject of equipment, you may recall a couple of years ago I raised the issue of the increasing prevalence of coloured bowls. My innocent comment bought upon my head a torrent of bile and invective from players who felt the need to express their more artistic bent whilst playing bowls. Obviously coloured bowls are very popular with the younger participants of our game and anything that encourages youth participation should be welcomed but I have now come across a more worrying element to this subject, these being transparent bowls. This new development has to be seen to be believed. I could maybe understand it if the bowls were clear or even light green in colour denying your opponent a clear view of their finishing position, but some of these are bubblegum pink with inlaid glitter causing them to glisten as they pass along the green or as the sun shines upon them. Surely the powers that be could impose some limit on how aesthetically offensive the design of bowls can get. After all this is a serious game not a game for celebrities!

Now there’s a thought as to how to improve the exposure of crown green bowls. How about a celebrity competition, Big Bowler, Hells Green, I’m a Golfer Get Me Outta Here, the variations are endless.

There must somewhere be certain famous people who have enjoyed or even still enjoy the odd roll-up. I have been told stories about one such local celeb who played at a pretty high standard in the late 1960s. I am lead to believe that former Birmingham City and England Centre Forward Freddie Pickering played at a fairly high standard in his early years in Lancashire before coming to the Midlands. I believe he joined a club in the area and turned out for them when his footballing duties allowed. Another slightly more recent player better known in another field was former West Brom forward Ally Brown. I actually played him on his home green at the now lost Throstles Club. Luckily his playing career had ended when I played him as I delivered him a fearful crack on the ankle with yet another of my wayward fires. Funny though he never bought me a drink afterwards. They say never meet your heroes!

One hero I will now never have the opportunity of meeting is the late Sir Clement Freud. I was a great fan of Sir Clement articles, especially those in the Racing Post, telling witty tales of his travels around the racecourses of Britain in search of gastronomic delights and a few pounds won off unsuspecting bookies. It was these musings that inspired me to attempt something similar for this newsletter. The one ever present item in Sir Clement’s articles was a joke at the very end. It may not have been a very good joke but when read whilst imagining it in his lugubrious tones it brought a smile to your face. So I thought I’d finish this week with a very apt anecdote from the great man himself.

He was once asked what he would like folk to say as they passed his body, laid out in an open coffin, for final inspection. He replied that he would like at least one of them to say “I think I saw him move”.

 See you soon

 Chris Smith

 Ramblings From The Chair ~ March

With the new season nearly upon us, it is time for me to pen the first of my Ramblings From The Chair of 2009.

I say nearly upon us. I myself took my first steps on the green on the last Saturday in February. Fancy playing a friendly match in February! I can get cold and wet in July without beginning to bowl before the snow has barely thawed. Still, I felt the need to show willing if only to prove to my new club captain that I was dedicated to the cause and willing to suffer the discomforts of the winter weather in order to be ready for the new season. Funny thing was though he seemed happy to watch the goings on from the warmth of the pavilion.

I do dread that first venture out. It’s the same routine every year. The rummage under the stairs for my bowls, and the sudden realisation of where that funny smell that’s been bugging me all winter was coming from as I find the microculture growing in my bag, having forgotten to take out my damp rag at the end of last season.

However, having retrieved said bag from beneath a mountain of accumulated junk I set about removing the detritus of the previous season. Beer bottle tops (every year I live in hope of finding these with the bottle and beer still attached), broken pens (top quality implements usually with the name Hill or Coral on the side), used scorecards from games you either don’t remember or don’t want to remember, golf tees (this is one of the mysteries of life, I don’t even play golf, or not what any normal person would recognise as golf), even empty cigar packets (another mystery as I gave up smoking in 2005) . Finally we reach the bottom, buried beneath the tools of my trade, what last season were tubes of Grippo but which now, having being buried beneath two sets of bowls and whatever else has been piled in the cupboard over the previous five months, is a sticky gooey mess that has managed to smear itself all over the inside of my bag. Lovely!

There is one more decision to make before I embark on the new season. Bowls! Examination of my bowls brings back the memory of all the damage inflicted last season. One look at my bowls will immediately tell everyone that firing is not a skill at which I particularly excel, with chips and scratches prevalent across the surface of both implements. Luckily, I am the owner of a shiny new set of bowls which have been lovingly stored away for three years still in their individual plastic wrappers and enclosed in a box adorned with a caricature  of one of our greatest naval heroes. So I get them out and after tenderly fondling these flawless utensils, cast aside my old pockmarked set. However before I even reach the front door my mind is riddled with doubt. What if they don’t run as well? What if they don’t peg as much? So its back to the wrappers with them and I’m re-united with my old faithfuls. Finally ready for action I set off for the game in the full knowledge that after five months of inactivity I’ll require a poultice of Deep Heat just to be able to get out of bed the following morning. You may laugh but you’ll all be there in the next few weeks!

Before I sign off for this month I would just like to wish everyone an enjoyable season and here’s hoping we see the sunshine this year.

Cheers!