LOCAL HERO GOES GREEN...

Those of you who have followed my ramblings over the years will be familiar with my love of sports, in particular cricket, golf and football (soccer for my American devotees.)  And you will have noticed that apart from my life long devotion to Southampton FC with all its ups and downs, I also follow the fortunes of other, less `fashionable` clubs in the  lower reaches of the football pyramid rather than the dizzy heights.   

I think it`s just the romance of those clubs - sometimes it`s their location, sometimes their history and sometimes it`s just their sheer determination to survive and keep going for the love of it...or indeed for the hell of it.   So clubs like Fort William in Scotland`s Highland League, Truro City in the National League South Section are admired for their heroic journeys up and down the land and Forest Green Rovers in League Two for the romance of their location amid the glories of the Cotswolds, their rise from the obscurity of a village club and their devotion to all things green.  Greta must be a fan.

Over the years too I have followed and reported on the career of our street`s local hero Scott ("Buzzin` Six Pack") Wagstaff from his time playing in Charlton`s Youth team through his brief encounters at Northwich Victoria, Leyton Orient and Bournemouth, his seasons at Bristol City and Gillingham and more recently Wimbledon.   Sadly, his contract at Wimbledon expired at the end of June and there has been mounting speculation as to where he might next ply his trade as a box-to-box midfielder cum pacy flanker.

And in one of those quirks of fate he has just been snapped up by none other than Forest Green Rovers and you can see from the picture above that he along with his eco-friendly beard already look to be settling in to life at the New Lawn.   He will bring a wealth of experience to a club that is still on the up but I hope he thinks twice about celebrating any goal he might score with his trademark celebration `The Brick.`  At his age it could cause some damage.   It was at his time at Bristol City that I first reported on this remarkable celebratory contortion - here`s my report from no less than six years ago  - https://snoppersays.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-brick-is-back.html - (to view, please highlight the link, right click and the option to go to my post should appear.)

Of course with football being played behind closed doors it will not be possible to witness at first hand how Scott`s influence on his new team mates bears fruit, which of itself is a shame, as is being denied the excuse to visit deepest Gloucestershire and all it has to offer.  The Chippings at Tetbury, the Market at Minchinhampton, the Dulcima country and the Cider with Rosie.  Our local hero is in for a good time.

TIME FOR ANOTHER ONE?...

The picture above shows Her Majesty The Queen bestowing a knighthood on former England cricket captain, Sir Alistair Cook, who had retired from the captaincy having scored over 12,000 runs for his country - more than any other batsman in the annals of English cricket.

Now I apologise for those of you who are not aficionados of the Summer game for inflicting another post on you but by any standards the milestone reached yesterday by James Anderson of reaching 600 wickets for England really does deserve some comment.

He becomes the fourth highest wicket taker in the history of Test cricket, after Muralitheran,Shane Warne and Anil Kumble......but they were all spin bowlers, content with short run-ups at gentle pace.   Anderson is a pace bowler - even yesterday he was clocking an average of over 83 mph for each delivery - and so in terms of sheer physical effort I suggest that his achievement is arguably more admirable than the three above him in the list.   So far he has bowled over 5,600 overs in Test matches - almost 34,000 balls bowled, each with a long run up and exerting huge stress on his body.  But he has done that for 17 seasons and looks as if he will keep going.

When he eventually retires from the game, I hope that like Cook and many other cricketers before him, Anderson will be awarded the knighthood his dedication, skill and sheer effort deserves.

   

I`m looking for something to change the tone, get away from a world full of nonsense and get back to something that truly matters whilst the mere players of the world stage have their exits and their entrances.  So before I get even more Shakespearean, let`s  look no further than the game of cricket and some of the exits and entrances, the ins and outs of the beautiful game.

It`s not all good news, of course - nothing really is - but there are some examples from the world of cricket that perhaps show that, like life itself, the game has as much to do with chance as it does design.   A few examples...

As an avid follower of both Hampshire and Kent cricket I have been watching the rise and fall of two or three of their players.   In recent times Kent`s senior batsman, Joe Denly, has had a fair run in the England set-up, earning a call up to the Test team in January, 2019 at the age of 32.  In 15 test matches, he scored over 800 runs at an average of just under 30.  He played his last test match in July of this year.  Hampshire captain James Vince played 13 test matches for England, scoring over 500 runs at an average of just under 30 and played his last test in March 2018 against New Zealand.  The problem they both had was a penchant for getting into the 20s, 30s, 40s by virtue of elegance and determination but then getting out, sometimes by way of chance, others by misfortune.  So it was perhaps understandable that their brief test careers - their exits - were inevitable.

Now due to injuries and enforced absences, someone was needed to bat at No. 3 - the position largely occupied by Messrs. Denly and Vince - but rather than recalling either of them, the gig went to Kent`s Zak Crawley, at just 22 a relative novice to the international arena.  And what does he do?  He only goes and scores 267 in the current Test against Pakistan and thus cements his pace for some time to come.  I refrain from suggesting that it helps when the England Selector is a former Kent player - that would be unfair - but it might just be another link in the chain of entrances and exits.

The world of cricket is full of instances of chance, opportunity, spectacular entrance and tragic exit.   I`ve got quite a collection of cricket books, as you might expect, and they include the lives of those such as Tom Graveney, Harold Larwood, Marcus Trescothick, Ben Stokes and one volume ("Silence of the Heart") which catalogues the far too many cricketers who have taken their own lives.  But the example I turn to is that of a true hero of mine, whose exploits I followed on the steam radio back in the 1940s and early 50s -  Harold Gimblett, who must surely be the prime example of the spectacular entrance and the tragic exit.



His entrance is the stuff of fantasy - he was called up to make the numbers up for Somerset in May 1935 when the county was short of players against Yorkshire at Frome.  He went in to bat at No. 8 when Somerset were in real trouble and went on to score 123 in 80 minutes with dazzling stroke play.  After that he stayed with the county until retiring from cricket in 1954.  By then he had scored 49 centuries, over 23,000 runs with a top score of 310 against Sussex in 1948.   He played just three times for England, largely due to the War but also to his reticence at being selected into what he felt was an uncomfortable environment for him.  

He and his wife moved away from his native Somerset and he spent his years of retirement in a mobile home in Verwood in Dorset, where in March 1978 he took his own life.  He played cricket by accident - the accident of Somerset being short handed back in 1935 - without which who knows what direction his life might have travelled and perhaps not ended in such tragic circumstances.   For more about the legend of Harold Gimblett,please see https://www.thein-cider.co.uk/the-legends-harold-gimblett-folklore-formed-in-freezing-frome/

Maybe we are all guided by the knife-edge of chance - the crossroads we come to.  I suppose a fair proportion of us were born by accident and a strange philosophical thread seems to run through many lives.  Maybe one or two people fell ill and were unable to board the Titanic?  Maybe some were caught up in a traffic jam and missed the plane which crashed with no survivors?  `Fate` is the nebulous, convenient word we use to describe how things that happen in our lives are often fashioned by unexpected circumstances.

On the Bard of Avon`s world stage, the game of life, like cricket, is indeed a game of chance.

As with most others I was sorry to learn that a Sudanese migrant has been apparently drowned off the coast of France whilst attempting to cross the Channel in a flimsy craft whilst also apparently being unable to swim. Even Home Secretary Pritti Patel described it as "an awful tragedy" which indeed it was.

Now I realise that I have to tread carefully here - I have no wish to appear unsympathetic and I have no desire to offend those of perhaps a more compassionate disposition but there are one or two things that genuinely puzzle me about the so called migrant crisis.

The first is that, just recently, there have been some unfortunate drownings here in the UK - the other day a young man drowned in  Devon river - but I doubt that that was reported in France with the same enthusiasm as we have had here over the loss of life in the Channel.   The second is that this event has once again given rise to yet more one sided reporting in the media - for example it was featured in yesterday`s edition of the Meridian regional news but we only heard from those representing the charities concerned with the migrant `crisis.`

Now here in Kent I am paying well over £1,000 a year to Kent County Council (KCC) for a `range of services` which apparently includes looking after the welfare of 400 child migrants under the age of 18 and another 900 between the ages of 18 and 25.  No wonder KCC are begging the government for help in dealing with this burden of responsibility, although help seems a long time coming.

So far this year it`s reported that something like 5,000 migrants have landed on Kent`s shores and despite assurances, promises and good intentions the authorities - and there are many local and national agencies involved with this - seem no further forward in seeking a sensible solution.  Of course it is right for any civilised country to accept genuine asylum seekers fleeing conflict, privation and persecution abroad and I have no problem with that.  But economic migration is an altogether different kettle of fish, as is the apparent laissez-faire attitude towards the problem from our friends on the other side of the Channel.

Now if this all continues unchecked (literally) then one must be forgiven for wondering where it all might end.  We are an island nation, space and resources are limited and so the notion proposed by the migrant charities (and others of perhaps a more compassionate disposition) - to ensure a safe crossing, safe passage and generous reception for those seeking the comfort of our largesse - can only lead to the logical conclusion that one fine day most of the population of Sudan, Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq and all points east and south will actually be resident in this country.

At which point, perhaps the indigenous population of this sceptred isle might have to find refuge elsewhere.  Well, it is a logical conclusion, Captain.....and I wonder if I will be welcome in the Seychelles or the Maldives or a paradise island in the Caribbean?

EVERYWHERE I LOOK...

Maybe you`ve caught me on a bad day but it seems that everywhere I look I see varying forms of incompetence.  We`re surrounded by it.  The main culprits at the moment appear to be HM Gov. whose handling of things like the school A level grades, the corona virus, the Brexit fallout and the issues surrounding the migrants arriving on our shores have raised incompetence to a new level.  It`s almost as though incompetence has been raised to an art form, a contest between government departments and ministers to see who can cause the most confusion not only for the people of this country but also for themselves.  

But arguably the most serious example of incompetence at the moment relates to the laws governing cricket.  The second test match between England and Pakistan at Southampton was largely a victim of the weather and also the interpretation by the umpires of the playing conditions to determine whether play can start, resume or come to a shuddering halt.

Over the past five days of this particular match Southampton has been plagued, on and off, by thunder, lightning, heavy rain and poor visibility, all of which meant that the game was restricted to less than one innings per side.   Thankfully there were no paying spectators because of Covid restrictions but there were countless others, like me, who were looking forward to watching the game on television.  (Well I would have watched it if my TV hadn`t blown up and gone to meet its maker.)

There was some play, of course, but heavy overnight rain meant that yesterday`s play could not start until mid-afternoon -  the pitch was a bit damp, the outfield a bit on the soggy side - but when play did start it wasn`t long before the umpires decided that it was a bit dark and so that old standby bad light stopped play.   This, despite the sun emerging after a few minutes and despite the fact that there are some seriously good and efficient floodlights all around the Ageas Bowl meant that the game never restarted.

So, whilst the government are in serious need of getting their act together across a wide range of issues, the powers that be in the rarefied atmosphere of international cricket should have an urgent and thorough review of the laws governing playing conditions and give people like me the hope that even if Covid keeps me away from the cricket ground at least I can watch some on TV - if I had a television set, of course.

As an octogenarian pensioner struggling to survive on a fixed income during these unprecedented economic times, the last thing I need is for things to be complicated.  Just recently I have had some close encounters with various bits of technology that have left me longing for things to be less complicated, simpler, easier to understand, even a touch more user-friendly.

I suppose the first example is my new car, which I bought just before THE LOCKDOWN back in March and which, thanks to Covid 19 and all its works, has only now clocked up its first 1,000  miles in five months.  There are quite a few things I don`t understand about it such as setting the satnav so I can find my way home.   Had a go when we were out this morning - managed to type in the home postcode but couldn`t find where to `save` it or `OK` it so I`m pretty sure it won`t work.  Why can`t things like that be more simple to use?

A few days ago I needed to have my mobile phone on as I was expecting a call from Mrs. Snopper when she emerged from `an appointment.`   So I sat on a nice bench in the shade of an old oak tree and started fiddling with the mobile, really for the first time.  I thought it was pretty basic but my fiddling discovered that it does far more than I would ever need it to do - it has a camera which I`ve never used;  an `organiser` which I don`t need; an alarm, which was quite alarming and a few other bells and whistles as well.  I did manage to change the picture on the screen and also change the clock so it`s now a 12-hour one but I really just need the phone to make and receive calls and keep life simple.

The other day our television suffered a terminal decline - it was overheating and worrying splodges were appearing on the screen, so off we go to the TV shop, where the diagnosis was confirmed as fatal and so we needed a new one (surprise, surprise.)  We were shown an impressive array and when we found one which was recommended to us the obviously clued up young man who was helping us explained all the things the new television could do - apparently it`s `smart,` you can tell it what to do, it has loads of options for sound and vision, it can link up to the internet; it can get YouTube, Disney, Netflix, Amazon, even BBC 2.  I know I won`t want or need most of that stuff - I just want to watch the Test Match.

Life`s too complicated these days -  as a simpleton myself, I`m really quite desperate to keep it simple.

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SILENT RUNNING....

I have mixed emotions when it comes to cricket - divided loyalties, I suppose.  My very first visit to a county championship venue was in 1949 when my parents took me to Hampshire`s old ground in Northlands Road, Southampton to watch the county side play the touring New Zealanders.   And unsurprisingly my loyalty to Hampshire cricket, which was born on that day, remains undiminished.   But in recent years I have been fortunate to pay many a visit to Canterbury to watch Kent playing in the historic surroundings of the St. Lawrence ground.   And having lived in Kent for well over half a century it is equally unsurprising that I now also follow the fortunes of Kent cricket.

Now a couple of days ago history was made at Canterbury when Jordan Cox and Jack Leaning (pictured above) piled on 423 runs in a second wicket partnership that eclipsed anything that had gone before in Kent`s history in the Bob Willis Trophy game against Sussex.  This competition limits the first innings to 120 overs which made Kent`s total of 530 for the loss of just one wicket even more remarkable.  Not surprising then that Kent romped home to an innings victory.

Cox, a 19-year old from Margate is a product of Kent`s Academy since the age of ten, contributed 238 not out whilst Leaning - a 25-year old recruited from Yorkshire - made 220 not out.

Now you might imagine that such a feat in the summer game would have attracted a bit of coverage from the assorted media.   But apart from newspapers merely showing details of scorecards and the odd mention in the Kent media, this extraordinary achievement has largely gone unnoticed and unreported. 

But today `news` surrounding the event has indeed been reported whereby Jordan Cox has been excluded from Kent`s next match after a breach of the team`s Covid-19 protocols.  He has been forced to self isolate after agreeing to be photographed with young fans after leaving the Canterbury ground in breach of social distancing policy.  He will now have to test negative before being allowed to rejoin the squad but he will miss Kent`s next game in the Bob Willis Trophy against Middlesex starting on Saturday.

Cox has said how sorry he is that this has happened. "I fully understand the consequences and I wish to apologise to everyone.  I feel as though I have let the team down."

I suppose it all represents the times in which we live but it does seem unfair that his and Leaning`s achievement has not been given the acknowledgment it deserves, while Cox`s innocent misdemeanour has attracted perhaps too much notice?

LIFE`S A BEACH...

This was the scene in recent days as crowds flocked to the beaches on England`s south coast.  Images like this are enough to persuade me that it really isn`t worth the effort and that in  truth I really don`t want to be there anyway.  But photos of beaches like this - and there are many, many more depicting the mayhem on beaches around the country - at least brought back memories of the very first time I ever saw the sea.

It was back in the end game of World War 2.  My mother and I had spent most of the war living with relatives in the village of Blackfield close to Southampton Water whilst my father was holed up in a German Prisoner of War camp.  Even after well over 70 years I still have vivid memories of those days and indeed those nights when hearing the nightly air raids on Southampton and the surrounding area.   I remember the build up to  D-Day when a seemingly endless procession of American trucks headed through the village on their way to Lepe beach - about two or three miles down the road - where the mulberry harbours were being constructed prior to the D-Day landings.

But when things quietened down a bit, one day my mother and another family decided it was safe to walk down to Lepe beach.  It was quite a walk and I remember passing a bomb crater - a frequent calling card left by German bombers heading back after giving Southampton docks a pasting - but most of all I remember my first ever view of the sea down at Lepe.  I looked along the shoreline towards Calshot one way and Inchmery the other way and looked across to the Isle of Wight.  It was for me - and still is - an inspiring view.  Here`s what it looks like these days:-

It may not be the most spectacular beach but I have been back a few times over the years and despite its `development` as a country park it still holds a special magic for me from all those years ago.   I really must get back there before it`s too late.......

A SIMPLE AND ELEGANT SOLUTION ?

Our parish here in deepest Kent is divided into two really - there`s one side of the By-pass and the other side.  The side we live in has been well established for many years - the church, pub, shop and the relatively `new` housing development which has been here for getting on for 50 years now.   You might say that this side is the heart of the village.  The other side is  currently the subject of a large housing development on the site of what used to be a `hospital.`

A respected historical website tells us that "The hospital was built as a colony for mental defective persons by Kent County Council in 1936 utilising an existing estate and the manor house.  It housed up to 1200 patients, but it was wound down due to Care in the Community and closed in 1996.  It laid dormant until the land and buildings were sold to developers."  (The development gave rise to speculation about the names for the new streets which might `commemorate` the history of the site - various suggestions were made including The Nutters, Bonkers Close, Mental Avenue - but all were rejected in favour of a more `marketable` description.)

The reason for explaining all this is to report that the football pitches on the new development have just recently been invaded by our travelling friends, complete with their caravans, trucks and assorted vehicles and the varied amounts of rubbish and mayhem which accompanies their visits.   Swift action is being taken, however, to make their stay as short as possible but in a way it makes a change for us on this side of the parish, as we have had numerous invasions over here over many years until last year when finally sufficient `barriers` were erected to keep our open spaces free from such incursions.

As a county, Kent has a history of invasions - from the Roman legions to the present day incursion of migrants making the perilous journey crossing the channel to get to the promised land.  In recent days their numbers have increased even more alarmingly - over 4,000 have arrived so far this year alone.   The Government`s reaction to growing public concern is, predictably, to hold an inquiry.  At the moment our Members of Parliament are on their summer break and so any inquiry won`t even begin until September at the earliest, so goodness knows how long it will take for them to form their recommendations, get them agreed and implemented, if ever.



But maybe that inquiry could come up with a simple and elegant solution to the `traveller` problem at the same time.   Surely it makes sense to treat the travellers the same way as the migrants to our shores.  Offer them free housing, free health care, cash to spend each and every week and then maybe they might stop travelling?    Seems simple and elegant to me, although I also recall H.L. Mencken suggesting that for every complex problem there is a simple solution that doesn`t work.  

END TITLES...

It must have been ten years ago, back in the days when Southampton were consigned to playing in League One (aka Division Three of the Football League) when my season ticket took me to St, Mary`s Stadium to watch the Saints come to terms with their decline and fall.  There was no pressure back then - no expectation - and so we used to sit in the Itchen Stand with a feeling of que sera sera in the hope that we might be entertained and that the game might end with a sense of optimism.  One game in particular might have been against the now dearly departed Bury FC - The Shakers - but they were all much of a muchness in those days of shoulder-shrugging resignation. 

My good friend, the Itchen Sitter - he chose the name as his on line moniker as he, like me, sat in the Itchen Stand - and we got to having interesting chats during the frequent lulls in proceedings on the field of play and I recall him encouraging me to watch a film he had recently seen suggesting it was the kind of film I might enjoy.   The film was `Gran Torino` written, produced, directed and starring Clint Eastwood as a Korean war veteran struggling with all kinds of `issues,` not least the fact that his street had been taken over by Hmong neighbours

I eventually got around to seeing it and despite its inherent violence and culture clashes, there was much to admire - the characterisation, the acting, the feeling of authenticity,  the way the story unfolded until the Clint Eastwood character  committed the ultimate redemption - he was dying anyway - by sacrificing himself to a hail of bullets so that his  Hmong neighbours might live in peace.  It turned up again on ITV4 recently, so I was able once again to appreciate all it had to offer.

But for all that I make no apology for confessing that the best bit of the whole thing was the song that accompanied the end titles.   It was written and sung by Jamie Cullum and it summed up the essence of the film, along with the difficulty of finding things to rhyme with `Torino.`   Anyway, here it is in all its poignant melodic excellence:-

HARVEST TIME....

Rather than have a rant about something today (there is so much to rant about I`m spoilt for choice) I thought I might share a few photos I took on our early morning walkies today around the Kent village of Trotiscliffe (pron. `Trosley`.)  The village is just a ten minute drive from home and at this time of the year the crops in the fields look just about ready to be harvested.  Seemed a nice way to welcome in August. (Please click on the photos for better images).......

This young alpaca is a new kid on the block...

 The village peek-a-boo church....

  

Ready for the harvester?...

 Towards the North Downs...

 ....and all under a clear blue sky...