Putting the Pads Away Already...

It has been a strange old summer in many ways, but one constant in my life has always been summer = Cricket, and this summer was no different, although playing 10 matches across seven different XIs for two different clubs is a new one on me...!

I'm thrilled that Old Isleworthians & Heston CC has been able to undergo a renaissance, profiting from a massive fallout from my first club, Wycombe House, which saw a mass exodus in our favour, enabling the Is to field two league XIs this season - both sides finishing as champions in their respective division. I played in a pre-season match for the new 2s as well as an "Old Boys" XI match, but in the end after a few weeks out for various reasons I left for pastures new, answering the call from Kempton CC, a side that has a number of former Is in their ranks these days.

Kempton field four XIs in the Surrey Championship, and it was in the 4s that I started - my 1 (before getting out to a horrible daisy-cutter) won't live long in the memory but a decent cameo for a "5th XI" (in reality a mix of 3rd XI players and youngsters/fringe players) saw the skipper that day, normally the 3rd XI vice captain, suggest he'd recommend I play for the 3rds. Sure enough, my next match was for the 3s and successive top scores (42 and 45) suggested he was right.

Despite scoring just 3 in a match that lasted seven overs, I soon found myself promoted again to the 2nd XI, playing once before my disjointed season was halted again by my two week stay in my Mum's new place in Dorset. A lack of availability meant I was still in the 2s on my return, scoring 8 in a match we should have won but contrived to lose, and to my relief I was back in the 3rd XI for the final league match of the season.

Or so I thought. Turning up early at our ground on Saturday, the 1st XI found itself a man short after a late drop out. I thought at first they were joking when the 1s players started suggesting I might be playing for them, but when skipper Gary (aka King Dong) filled out the team sheet and gestured to me that I was listed, all went a bit giddy. More so when, put into bat, he told me I'd be batting at 4 against a side that would clinch promotion with victory. Eek. My mood wasn't lifted when I saw the left-arm opener luzzing the ball down at roughly 150mph, although the guy from the other end looked more palatable. It was, however, the more innocuous looking bowler who got a couple of wickets to send me in. I faced out the rest of his over comfortably, and was greatly relieved to see the 150mph lefty had been taken off. Sadly his replacement was a 9'3" giant who bowled at about 140mph instead. I was credited with a run (my ankle apparently sounds like a bat when the ball whacks it) but was then trapped in front LBW for that solitary run. Said behemoth then ran through us, taking 4/13, so I didn't feel too badly, as we were hammered by 9 wickets with the match finishing at 3:30.

So, a weird season. While it was a massive wrench to leave the Is (although retaining membership and links as an "Old Boy"), I've been delighted to play in my new surroundings with a great bunch of guys who've taken me in quickly as one of their own. I'll certainly be helping the new Is sides celebrate their performances at the OIHCC end of season dinner on Friday, so please play quietly on Saturday, meanwhile the gear will be mothballed again until my 34th summer of Cricket kicks off in mid-2018.

The Immediate Aftermath

Well, if ever a 0-0 draw felt like a defeat - it's amazing to think that the Conservatives are on course for the highest vote share recorded since 1983 and a surely (without checking) unprecedented vote total, and yet Labour have defied the odds to enforce a hung parliament in what is seen as a real return (in England at least) to 2-party politics. The recriminations will emerge over the coming hours, days and weeks, with Theresa May possibly about to pay the price for what will be looked back on as a nonsensical decision to call the election and an equally nonsensical campaign. Conservative supporters will be raising a glass to Ruth Davidson, whose superb leadership of the party north of the border has saved a lot of blushes and wiped the smile off Wee Jimmy Krankie's face.

So what went wrong for the Conservatives, and/or what went right for Labour? It seemed the major turning point was that May and her party were put on the back foot by certain elements of their manifesto. Opposition to the so-called "Dementia Tax" gained traction for sure, forcing the rather humiliating (and certainly not "strong and stable") U-turn. The weaponisation by Labour of the Manchester and London terror attacks to point to a reduction in police numbers as being a cause also played well to the headlines and put May, the Home Secretary in charge of police numbers until last year, in a very awkward position.

There seemed also to be little coherence in the argument put forward by the Conservatives not just for holding this election but in convincing people to vote for them. While there was some "Project Fear" in 2015, at least the Cameron team mixed this with a positive message about what the party had done in government to steer the UK through tricky waters and emerge the other side. There was no such positivity with the May campaign, choosing instead (when not having to defend bits of the manifesto) to focus entirely on "Project Fear" - learning none of the lessons of the disastrous 2016 Remain campaign. Where was the positive message? There were some very sound policies in the manifesto around education, for example, but at no point were these articulated. Why?

Jeremy Corbyn is, and remains, a hugely divisive figure. There is amongst his supporters a slavish devotion which makes him and his closest confidantes immune to criticism. The decision therefore to focus on his rather unpalatable past instead of tackling policy would be looked on in hindsight as a poor decision. For every headline in the press about his IRA/Hamas-loving past there was an even more steely determination that this simply does not matter any more. Beyond being apparently made of Teflon this smear campaign merely made people resolve to vote for him. Much as, last year, every smug and pompous headline telling people that a vote to leave the EU was borne out of something like racism added a percentage point to the Leave vote.

For his part, Corbyn fought a far more positive campaign than May. There were shambolic elements clearly, but who wouldn't be intoxicated by the sight of huge cheering crowds wherever he went? The manifesto, ignoring the great "fully costed" myth, contained a number of popular ideas that resonated particularly with the younger generation. It read more like a wish list than a set of achievable aims, but hey, it worked. See results in student-heavy seats like Canterbury. He fought like a slugger coming back off the ropes and, while he didn't deliver a knock out blow and in the end narrowly lost on points, he gained the respect of the hostile crowd and earned himself a shot at a re-match.

It's not the end of the world for the Conservatives, but it may feel like it for a time. A minority government, at a time of great uncertainty for the country, is far from ideal, and one suspects there will be another election (oh no, I hear you say!) even as soon as October. Labour, galvanised by events of the past few weeks, will say "bring it on". The Conservatives, on the other hand, need a new approach to campaigning, to put a positive message across while scrutinising and holding closely to account Labour's plans. Dare I say it, a new leader will almost certainly be needed to wipe the slate clean.

The Football Awayday "Experience"

On our first date, I told Katy a little white lie that she has never let me forget. "I don't know why people get so worked up over sport" said I. 19 years of me getting worked up over sport later, I don't think I got away with it.

Yesterday was one of those cases in point as to just why Football, and Exeter City in particular, is under my skin. The penultimate fixture of the regular season saw City head to already promoted Doncaster knowing a win would guarantee a place in the playoffs to win promotion to League One. A decent group of City fans, including two of our Norwegian supporters who'd flown in for the match, assembled at Kings Cross. We boarded our train, I managed to miss out on bagging a "card school" seat, ready for the off.

Or so we thought. Due to a track failure our train was cancelled, and we were all to board the train a couple of platforms down. Cue a mad scramble, and the realisation it would be standing room only all the way. At least we were moving anyway. At least we were until we reached Grantham, near the scene of the track failure. We were held in the station for ages, the driver announcing we had to wait for FIVE Southbound trains to pass through. We pulled out, then a short distance later came to a stop again, this time for an hour or so. The Leeds fans sharing the gangway with me were starting to really fret about their chances of making kick off, while I was more concerned that our pub time in Doncaster would be curtailed.

We eventually got going, and got into Doncaster around 1:20pm, just an hour and a half or so late. Still, at least there was still time for a couple of pints - as I said to the Leeds fans you need *some* beer inside you to be able to watch City! Onto the ground, a very tidy modern affair, quite sparsely populated especially considering a home win could see them win the division title.

So, the game itself. With so much at stake it was a cagey opening, but we sensed an opportunity when we won a free kick 30 yards out. "Oh, ******* hell" said the chap sat next to me as we appeared to faff around with the kick, but we'd not reckoned on our centre back, Jordan Moore-Taylor, almost bursting the net to send us delirious.

It was written in the stars that one-time City favourite turned Doncaster legend James Coppinger, would score, and so it was a few minutes later when Moore-Taylor missed a header leaving Copps to fire home from close range. Grrrrr.

Into the second half and we took the lead again. Our Jamaican international, Joel Grant, waltzed through the defence but found his shot blocked. As we tried to force the ball into the net a Doncaster hand deflected the ball away, the referee pointed to the penalty spot. To general confusion, as striker Reuben Reid has been on penalty duty lately, Ryan Harley stepped up. Saved! Rebound...saved! Top scorer David Wheeler then took over and forced the ball home. The look of relief on Harley's face when he embraced Wheeler said it all.

What then followed was "attack vs defence" as Doncaster tried to draw level once more. We made a couple of substitutions to shore things up, and for the second successive game one of the subs, Liam McAlinden, scored to put the game beyond doubt. Our highly coveted forward Ollie Watkins took advantage of a defender dawdling to rob him and burst through on goal. With only the keeper to beat, Watkins squared it to McAlinden who tapped in. If we were delirious after goals one and two, new superlatives would have to be invented at this point. This was a knockout blow for Doncaster, who seemed to give up and we closed out the game easily.

As the players came over to celebrate with the fans, news emerged that not only were we guaranteed a playoff spot, we were guaranteed fifth place barring a 10-0 defeat at home to sixth-placed Carlisle next week. To think that when we played Leyton Orient on November 22nd we were bottom of the league, what an amazing turnaround.

Fortunately the journey back wasn't so eventful, and I got back, having made the discovery that the recently opened Caribbean place in Hounslow, Jerk Vibes, does the best curry goat ever, in time to watch it all again on Channel 5.

If you could bottle the Football awayday experience, bar the train problems on the way up this was it. Great company, some good beer, City even laid on a superb match for us - usually it's a great day out spoiled by the couple of hours in between. Katy still doesn't get it, but never mind!

Election Fever

Alice Cooper has yet to declare whether he intends to stand in the election.

So, who was expecting that, eh? Word that Theresa May was making an important statement this morning sent the rumour mill into overdrive. Adam Boulton at Sky speculated that May's long-standing health issues could have contrived to cut short her tenure in office. Maybe she'd decided to cancel Brexit a couple of weeks after the letter was handed to Donald Tusk? Had the "other" Donald convinced her we should be nuking North Korea, Syria or anywhere else with a despot at the helm?

No, instead we'd clearly gone long enough without a national plebiscite, and stated her intention to reverse the Fixed Term Parliaments Act to call a General Election for June.

Why Now?

The obvious answer is, with Labour in disarray right now in the polls, the time was right to exploit this and to seek a larger advantage in Parliament, especially with trickiness over the "B" word looming over the next two years. By securing a larger majority in the Commons it would likely smooth the path to a smoother Brexit process. It would also reset the clock to 2022 in terms of how long the Conservatives would have to manage the Brexit process and its aftermath.

Another small but perhaps significant reason is for May's own credibility as PM - when Gordon Brown took over from Tony Blair in a bloodless coup he was urged to seek a mandate with an election to prevent howls of "illegitimacy" of his premiership. He failed to grasp the nettle and to some this represented the first death knell of his term, culminating in defeat in 2010. Were May to secure an increased majority in June this would end any whispers that she had no legitimacy to govern having inherited Cameron's majority.

Word also is that the left of Labour was beginning manoeuvres to position itself more firmly on the left rather than the uneasy coalition of those now at the helm of the party (backed by the majority of the membership) and the majority of their MPs. The details of this transition are rather hazy but could have involved Jeremy Corbyn stepping aside for a more "electable" personality with a similar viewpoint. This was, however, dependent on having the time to manage this transition. An early election puts the kibosh on this, and a disastrous result for a Corbyn-led Labour would weaken the resolve of the Momentum-backed faction of the party while allowing the "Blairite" factions to triumphantly say "I told you so". All the while the divides in the party remain exposed.

A couple of final points purely of "convenience" for May would be that a snap election, aside from catching opposition parties cold, is an opportunity to rip up the 2015 manifesto which was written with an air of "The best we could hope for is another coalition so it doesn't matter what we promise, we don't need to follow it through" about it. New manifesto, new leeway for policies that might actually be realistic. The Boundary Review, something of a political hot potato having suggested reduced numbers of MPs in the wake of austerity and the expenses scandal, can also be swept under the carpet and forgotten about.

The Runners and Riders and Who Will Stand

A snap election will also mean snap decisions up and down the country as to who will stand (or who will be allowed to stand by their local associations!). For the Conservatives, questions will be asked of the likes of George "27 Jobs" Osborne, as well as some of the awkward squad especially around Brexit. Kenneth Clarke will be 77 in July, does he really want to stand again having already stated his intention to stand down in 2020? Anna Soubry, one of the more committed "Remainers" who voted against the party whip on the Brexit issue, represents a constituency that voted Leave, no doubt her local association will have noted this having already considered deselecting her prior to 2015 before sticking with her. Former Education Secretary Nicky Morgan will also be checking her bed for horses heads.

However, the Conservatives will be in confident mood heading into June in general. Poll leads in double figures, managing to make by-election gains, the economy moving along nicely "despite Brexit", the appearance of a party that is largely united (even on Europe!) and knowing what it stands for. Well duh, May wouldn't have called the election had her underlings been in disarray.

The same cannot be said for Labour. Having expected to at least be the largest party in a coalition in 2015, if not back in majority control, the party has been massively divided ever since the membership voted to move sharply to the left in electing Corbyn. A spectacularly bad attempt at a coup last year sharpened the resolve of the Momentum wing of the party but has also sharpened the electorate's resolve not to vote for the party, hence the terrible poll figures and the snap election. Of course, with seven or so weeks until the country goes to the polls anything can happen, but the bookies aren't exactly falling over themselves currently. In terms of who will stand for election, this may be an opportunity for a number of sitting MPs, particularly those on the "Blairite" side of the party, to "do a Tristram Hunt" and conveniently bag themselves lucrative jobs outside the Westminster bubble. Some may not be through choice, for example if your surname is Eagle you may be looking closely over your shoulder. On the other hand could there be a return for other "Blairite" types to sweep back majestically? Ed Balls has successfully transitioned from a rather disliked Shadow Chancellor to a much-loved TV personality via the "Strictly" dance floor, while David Miliband may wish to return to frontline politics. One suspects neither, however, will be keen while the overall direction of their party isn't in line with theirs.

That is not the case with one more high profile former Lib Dem MP, with Vince Cable having already announced his intention to try to win back his Twickenham seat. Otherwise the Lib Dems have positioned themselves as the party of "LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" re: Brexit, ignoring the fact more people voted for it than against it and vowing to reverse the process. This could prove something of a vote winner - as evidenced in the Richmond by-election, but whether it is enough to bring them back to the levels they enjoyed prior to 2010 is up for debate, especially given the public while evenly split in the referendum itself has overall "accepted" the result and wishes to get on with the process. However, on the other hand the party has made some notable gains in local by-elections particularly in their heartlands in the South West, which could signal better fortunes nationally.

Up in Scotland, the political landscape was changed seemingly forever by the 2014 referendum vote, with the party lines drawn roughly along the referendum vote in that those who voted "Yes" have gravitated towards the SNP while the other parties have scrapped for the "No" voters, causing a landslide for the SNP. Therefore the upcoming election may not see too many changes to the landscape, the SNP may lose a seat or two but will still be totally dominant, allowing Wee Jimmy Krankie to continue her pursuit of a second IndyRef.

Wales and Northern Ireland may not be swayed too much on either side, although the scandal affecting the DUP in the latter may lead to one or two changes.

As always, I'll be watching the election campaign with interest. Given my constituency is an ultra-marginal (469 votes in it in 2015), I expect several rainforests to be delivered through my letterbox in the coming weeks. The atmosphere at the count in Hounslow, where I expect to be totting up bits of paper as always, will no doubt be electric. Most of you will no doubt be aware where my loyalty lies, but I promise to be as impartial as possible....!

 

Five Years Later...

I started this blog five years ago with such great intentions. I'll keep the masses entertained on a semi-regular basis, that sort of thing. Then I didn't post for a week, two weeks, a month, a year...

My last post coincided with my sister's nuptials. Since then, let's see...they're now blessed with a sprogette of their own, our creation hits the big 1-0 this year, Mum is poised to move to Dorset in the summer (free holiday accommodation near the beach, yay!), OIHCC imploded thanks mainly to the Middlesex Championship but this year is undergoing a massive renaissance, City have been stuck in League Two (but this season are in the playoff places with four games left), the Bauys have won enough games to count on the fingers of about 0 hands. My knees gave out but are hanging in there, I had my first ever operation to cure a bent nose, and The Walkmen went on "Indefinite Hiatus", which I *think* means they've split up. Most of my friends are now married, some have offspring. Katy left one job, was made redundant from another and this week got the great news of a new employer after four months on the rock 'n' roll.

And...breathe.

Meanwhile the world has become a weird place. America had to choose their President from a choice of a nutter from the political establishment or a nutter from the business establishment and chose the latter. The UK was split pretty much down the middle between the spirit of "Up Yours Delors" and the EU being the best thing since sliced bread, with the Remain and Leave campaigns both being extremely effective at getting people to vote the other way. Terrorists are abandoning making fancy bombs in favour of just driving very fast at people.

Anyway, Happy Easter people, don't forget to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord by eating lots of chocolate. I promise not to leave it another five years. 

Going to the chapel....

Weddings, eh? A whole load of organising, blood, sweat, tears, table decorations, making sure the bridesmaid outfits are the right shade on the correct Pantone scale. And all for one day. But boy, what a day.

Growing up, my lil' sister Lauren and I endured something of a hate-hate relationship. A 5-year age gap ensured she used to constantly "irritate me", while of course being the older sibling I was supposed to rise above it. Yeah, right. She went from having tantrums every morning ("Now you've made my knickers fall down!" - you could judge her mood by how high she yanked the pants up under her arms) through the rebellious teenage years and, a couple of slips aside (being called at a hotel in Arundel at 3am to have to drive home to let her in to the house...), maturing into a fine lady.

A lot of the credit for this must surely go to the chap who I am now delighted to call "bro". While she wouldn't admit it at first, it was clear she was utterly smitten with this Duncan fella at Uni. She'd come home for the holidays, and there would be one topic of conversation. Finally she realised what I had sensed for ages, and she and this behemoth became an item.

Fast-forward around 9 years to yesterday. I know, 9 years. Flippin' heck Dunc, you really dragged it out. Anyway, here was the day from the perspective of the brother of the bride...

Having barely slept on account of Madam choosing the day before the wedding to come down a bit ill, I had an early start, rushing around picking up the flowers for the register table and ensuring the Go Kart had enough petrol to get us around. I then had to tackle the kilt ensemble. Somehow between the previous day when trying it on and yesterday, I had presumably lost 3 pounds as it seemed a little loose, but I successfully negotiated it with seconds to spare before we had to head to the Lensbury.

There we went up to Mum's suite, where I tentatively stepped into the lion's den of several bridesmaids in various states of (unfortunately all decent) undress. Wisely escaping, I met up with Dad and his brother Dougal in the hotel's bar for coffee (and then a cheeky half), before Dougal, Katy and I headed to Osterley House, where Duncan and his ushers all looked magnificent in their kilts. I checked the music worked, then assisted with meetin' and greetin'.

Having planned the timings of the day to the nth detail, it was therefore something of a surprise to see 2:00 come and go with no bride. It turns out this was not the bride's fault, rather the Bridesmaidmobile (aka Mum and Stephen's campervan) which had run out of electricity back at the Lensbury and needed a jump start.

Anyway, they got down to business. Duncan, always someone who can work an audience, threw a spanner in the works by blubbing. Being surrounded by ladies, I found my shoulders getting very damp as a result.

Bride and Groom seal the deal with a kiss. Ball and chain not pictured.

Then came the pictures, and a little bit of rigmarole. First up we had the spectre of two missing participants, then a slight re-jigging of the shots to account for Duncan's Dad being stuck at the top of the steps, then my little Diva decided she wouldn't play ball, refusing to pose for photos. Finally we piled into cars and headed back to the Lensbury.

Fizzy stuff and canapés abound, then my first job as MC for the night, to get the rabble to enter the room via a welcoming committee comprising B&G. We sat down for "breakfast" (I know, I have no idea either), and wow. Best. Wedding. Meal. Ever. The asparagus, bacon, poached egg and herb dressing starter was delicious. But then there was the steak. Oh yes, there was the steak. I'm not sure how a slab of meat can taste quite as good as that. But it did - I announced to all and sundry that the steak and I would shortly be getting a room. Katy couldn't quite finish hers, so that went down the hatch. I headed for the top table and Mum had left most of hers. Down the hatch.

My pud was cheese 'n' biscuits. 3 huge lumps of cheese, 3 biscuits. Go figure. I bl**dy love cheese, me.

Then came the speeches. I introduced things:

I know. Babe magnet.

I handed on to Dad, who gave a very moving speech, and then Duncan, who again through the simple act of being a cry-baby wuss managed to cause a near flood. Finally it was turn of Best Man Mike to finish things off with a load of laughs.

Well, things after this start to go a bit hazy. Not necessarily through alcohol consumption, rather this old man getting rather knackered. I did the sociable bit, had some funny photos with Madam, and then my final MC duty of the night was to announce the cutting of the cake before the excellent swing band commenced proceedings (after the first dance, Marvin Gaye). It wasn't long, though, before Madam - who had spent most of the night locking lips with page boy Jack - announced she was out for the count and needed taking to bed. Rather than this being a cue for a domestic with Katy, I was more than happy to accede and accompany the little lady - not before I procured a pork bap with apple sauce and plenty of crackling. Yum.

Well, what a fantastic day. All the effort was well worth it. Lauren looked utterly amazing (and it was fortunate everyone had their back to me as she arrived at Osterley House, else they'd have seen the sight of me blubbing), the party was excellent, the food was unbelievable, the company wonderful. If one could have planned a "Picture Postcard" wedding, this would have been it. I wish Lauren and Duncan a lifetime of happiness together, starting with their first honeymoon to Loch Lomond tomorrow.

TW3, or how to survive the wettest drought on record

Hello peeps. We reach the end of another working week - a week of contrasts, of moral support, of joy and glory.

Those pesky blighters at ECFC managed to keep themselves in with the faintest possible hopes of pulling off the great escape in the League One relegation scrap. I reached the "acceptance" stage the previous week when we surrendered a 2-goal lead with 11 minutes to play up at Rochdale. We went into the Walsall match knowing that anything other than a win would confirm a relegation that has been calling ever since David Noble was sent off for jumping for a header at Brentford. Round at the Mother-in-Law's, I snuck a quick look and saw we were losing 2-1. Phew, that's all sorted then. Only we went and bleedin' well won 4-2. I have visions of us getting a result up at Carlisle tomorrow, which would mean the fight goes on to the last day - coincidentally the day I should be 100% focused on my sister Lauren's nuptials.

Sunday saw another Exeter victory. We waited all season for the Bauys to register a win, then we only went and did it, in front of a healthy selection of WAGs and a few kids, against deadly rivals Plym**th. I don't like to blow my own trumpet, but my MOM award was I'm sure richly deserved.

The Bauys after our first ever match in 2006. No, I didn't wear the flip flops during the game.

We celebrated with a small pint, then Katy, Madam and I stopped in at Starvin' Marvin's on the way home. Said establishment, located just off the A40 towards Northolt was an old favourite of ours when we lived that way, and fortunately it is still just as good. Yummy.

It's fair to say Katy didn't have the best of weeks at work, so I donned my best TLC hat. On the other hand, I had the great news yesterday of hearing that my "Acting" boss has been confirmed in post. Not only is this good news as she is an excellent boss and great fun, but with a new boss would come upheaval and the possibility of a "new broom". Who knows if a new boss would want someone to churn out data and provide witty repartée in the office?

Oh, and it was effing bleedin' wet. Wednesday can FRO as a result. An open day on campus meant no parking so the car was miles away. Oh, and I had to pop out to a local school to carry out a Risk Assessment with a colleague. It wasn't raining that hard when I set off, so instead of walking the 10 minutes left to the car I headed right for the 15-20 minute walk. Big mistake, I have yet to dry out even now, as just past the point of no return the rain got heavier. And heavier. And heavier. Some bleedin' drought this is.

Anyway, we head into a weekend that will see Madam's dance classes resume, before Katy and Lauren meet up for that all-important wedding task, the buying of Madam's shoes. Other than that - bliss! A blank-ish weekend where I put the kibosh on City's chances by listening to the match (if I listen we lose. I'm like that.).

TTFN, etc. and try not to develop webbed feet in this glorious weather.