A History of Gotherington Club (pre-World War One to 1990)

by Bill Pullen, David Freeman, David Price

LIST OF CONTENTS

Forward

Prologue

Chapter One – The barely retrievable past

Chapter Two – The barely mentionable present

Chapter Three – The Fields of Glory: The Players

Chapter Four – The entrance of the Goddesses: The Ladies

Chapter Five – The Friends

Epilogue

In Memoriam

Appendices

1 FORWARD

My connection with Gotherington C.C. began in the ‘Swinging Sixties’ with its mini-skirts swirling to the sounds of the Beatles and myself emancipated from knee-pants but poised to embrace academia at Pates’ educational emporium.

Appropriately I was weaned from milk to Brown Ale (Tot-off); from Janet and John to, inter- alia, Caesar and his Gallic problems and therefrom to contemplate the issues which face us all, viz to select a route from bubbling youth to the ultimate joys of a decently decadent old age.

Along this chosen path it was necessary to find a station to pause and further examine the future. I didn’t have to wait long. My salvation was on the doorstep, Gotherington C.C. invited me to tell the tale of its background, and so I joined the company of the spear carriers of the Clubs resurgence, to wit: Messrs. Peter ‘Fred’ McMurray, Neil Hyde, David ‘Yards’ Owen and ‘B’ White. Their centurions included David Freeman, Alec Fry and sundry others (of whom much, much more later).

I became the Club’s Scorer, Raconteur, crucial ‘Twelfth Man’, Jester and latterly, its Chronicler.

In preparing this chronicle it became clear that a specific format, preferably light hearted, be adopted. From the accumulated data it was apparent that you, dear reader, would be stunned by endless statistics. So it was decided to leave these to an Appendix and assault your sensibilities with sometimes only slightly embroidered reports of the doings (and undoings) of the Members, on and off the field.

I hope dear friends I was right! Let’s see.

W. (Bill) Pullen

2 PROLOGUE

This work is dedicated above all to the memory of all those who have served the

Club since its rebirth in the early ‘Sixties’. They are:

Vic Crumplin

D.C.A. Dixon

Lieut. Comm. Henry Franklin D.S.C.

Alec Fry

Jim McLaren

Eddie Moore

Charles Stanford

Flt. Lieut. Harry Upsom D.F.C.

David Worley

In the process it aims to amuse and enlighten the many who enjoy the game of cricket and the few who treasure fast receding memories of the game in the more demure days before the War as it was played in Gotherington.

Finally the immediate past and present players are invited to recapture in their dotage and at their firesides the pleasures and excitements of the game they played in tranquillity of their youth.

To you all then, why not turn the pages!

3 CHAPTER ONE : THE BARELY RETRIEVABLE PAST

There is undocumented evidence that cricket was first played in Gotherington in the years before W.W.1. Doubtless the name of some are etched on long lost score books and subsequently carved in stone on memorials. The men themselves having carried their bats to their last pavilions. So it behoves us to grasp at the frail straws of fuddled memories and faded notes to recapture what we can.

For some of this we are indebted to Gordon Pullen, Graham South, Betty Stanford and the late Ida Edgington. All true villagers. Gordon for instance recalls travelling by pony and trap to away games eg. , Tredington, Apperley etc. and on foot to the meadow behind the now Lawrences Meadow.

Gordon still remembers in the ‘Twenties’, Ernie Aston (Shutter Landlord), the village ‘Bobby’ Claude Hobbs, and Nobby Clarke, a one time goalkeeper, to name a few, all keen cricketers who played for the village.

The Club’s sometimes awesome results first appeared in print in 1934, gracing the pages of the Tewkesbury Register, the poor man’s Sun of the era. Its cricket columns were never graced by the pens of the Gurus of the art; the young Jim Swanton of the Telegraph who only referred to Dennis Compton by his first name after he had passed 50 runs – and, the greatest of them all, Neville Cardus who, befitting his alter ego as the Guardian’s music critic, used to describe the arcs of Don Bradman’s bat as evocative of a Beethoven finale.

These Gentlemen sadly made their excuses and invariably headed for Fenners, The Parks, The Oval or Lords. Nevertheless Gotherington gamely batted on through seasons now mellowing under Time’s gaze. These seasons frequently ended with riotous suppers in the Shutter with beer at a mere 4d a pint (Terry Brown please note) (I expect it was a good brew as well) (and a full measure) etc. etc. At this function a new bat would have been presented to the player of the year at a cost would you believe of 42/- ??? The parties would break up after a night of ribaldry and serious imbibing (does anything change?)

Another social event was the comic cricket match when the local transvestites cavorted in nearby meadows against the Ladies eleven of which Ida Edgington was responsible in forming. An engaging lady Ida, a keen wine maker living at Shady Nook in Shutter Lane and previously of The Holt in Cleeve Road, where it was nothing to see various visitors leaving at all hours mostly legless.

CHAPTER TWO: THE BARELY MENTIONABLE PRESENT

The immediate post-war years had little direct impact on Gotherington and sport was limited to soccer, again played in the aforementioned meadow. In the late 50s, however, Smiths Industries, Dowty’s, The National Coal Board and the spy centre, G.C.H.Q. expanded to release their fledgling executives, accompanied by fresh cheeked wives and mewling infants to descend on the innocent villagers hitherto serene lifestyle. The effect bordered on the apoplectic. The newly built Lawns and later Pullen’s Court pulsated with their unspeakable activities. A new dynamism appeared. In particular a need for a broad band of recreation was recognised. The Council bent to the people’s will and the Playing Field was born. It contained within its 4 acres,pitches for Cricket, Football, Tennis and a Children’s Play Area.

4 Dare it be mentioned that those amenities would diminish the thrust in the loins of our straining athletes? It became a boon to aspiring cricketers who first tested their reflexes in the summer of ’65 and in the bar of the Shutter whose Landlords have always been magnificent Patrons of the Club. The first Captain was David Freeman who was soon superceded by in dubious order Derek Fry, Ron Brimble, John Nimmo, Colin Ralph, David ‘Reg’ Millington, Kevin Wood and currently, Jonathan Freeman.

It is a valued characteristic of the Club that all players must have some links with the of Gotherington, Woolstone and . For the past 25 years this has been firmly adhered to.

A word now about those who associated themselves with the Club, actively, socially and critically, financially. It may be that one or two names are missing – to those people we offer our sincere apologies. Also over the years our memories have become somewhat numb either by age or drink and some items may not be quite accurate, and nothing said is meant to cause any embarrassment or offence.

First we remember Henry Franklin, D.S.C., our first formal Umpire. He was untrained, intimidating but appropriately sensitive to the home captain’s prejudices. Opposing bowlers consistently apologised for their effrontery after appealing for a catch behind or L.B.W. During one match Henry’s stentorian (loud) shout echoed through the Parish when a young player named Bates dropped a second catch, to wit --- . “Pull yourself together, Master Bates, you’re at it again!” The Rector of Woolstone is understood to have called for six ‘Hail Marys’ in mitigation. Henry gave us colour as he still surely does in the Elyssian Fields he now wanders.

Another fellow traveller in these pastures, also sorely missed, was HarryUpson (Flt. Lieut.), whose companionship and exhibitions of hearty eating of oriental style meals, during our summer tours are legendary. His appetite for life and hot curries left even Chinese cooks begging for return tickets to Peking. Then there was Alec Fry, our first Chairman. A man of charm, whose total commitment to the Club gave us great heart when it was needed. So dedicated was Alec that on a tour of Wales he exhausted the maps to the point of re-opening routes last used by the Tudors. In the meantime Derek, his son, hyped at the diminishing prospect of playing, sobbed inconsolably as the car meandered through Welsh Hill rain and tortuous bends in search of fields of play. So farewell, Alec, and thank you.

Amongst other Chairmen there is still the extent Dennis Waters, a man of so many parts it is a matter to wonder how they all cohere to form the whole man.

However Dennis is a joy to recall for his contributions to the Club’s well-being. His jaunty carriage was reminiscent, surely, of war-time exuberances on the flight-decks of war-time bombers. Since Dennis we have been blessed with Norman H. Macdonald, the charismatic arbiter of the quality of malt whiskey.

He bloodied himself in the nurturing of our junior players (run in those days by Alec and Derek Fry and John Postlethwaite), many of whom have passed with credit into the First Eleven. ‘Mac’ then took an umpiring course which some distressed batsmen consider gives him unchallengeable rights to vent his spleen on those who fail to buy his round in the post-match critique. ‘Mac’ and his dear wife Mavis, a provider of teas par excellence, both give the village Club a happy ambiance and we are grateful for their presence amongst us. Another contribution from ‘Mac’ is our now unique scoreboard not only because he made it but also because he has the skill and fitted it. I suspect however it was a slightly selfish move as he could never see the scores on our previous contraption from the middle.

The office of Club Patron is considered to be of immense importance and benevolence to the Club probably the reason all have been the Shutter landlords. First came Al Sault who, with Madge and their resident oracle, one Edward J. Piper or ‘Pip’, permitted us to use the premises as our Headquarters.

5 They gave unstinted succour to the Club, to the community and, to us outrageously, on tour.

Madge who offers a whole new meaning to the word ‘Chic’ could, with relish, call us to order (including Al) with withering looks and shrill crie de coeurs (I think it means something like ‘Come on you rascals it’s B ----- time!) Enjoy your retirement, we say, and thank you for your company.

Our present Patron is Terry Brown, who together with his wife Margaret has supported our cause as fervently as Albert. We are still warmly welcomed into the H.Q., and there is always the odd bottle of Port donated for after dinner at our now annual get together. Long may you both remain at the Shutter and we all extend our best wishes to you.

We have already made mention of the Juniors in passing. However it has been without doubt the main basis of our present team. All local successful sides have strong junior elevens, sadly, we no longer have one. We will therefore be eternally indebted to the likes of Charlie ‘Wag’ Stanford, who took our first ever junior side through to the final of the Vale of Evesham league. The many others in the community who gave their time to this venture, none more than John and Mary Postlethwaite. All gave of their time and energy without sadly the background help they all deserved.

Let us not fail to mention either those urbane types of the F.O., John Rhodes and Bernard Pitt. John blesses the Club with frequent attendances and the provision of one of its most exhilarating players, his son Chris. John with his wife Joan invariably appear at our Annual Dinner, demonstrating energies unbecoming a gentleman of a ‘certain age’ (Steady Ed.). At the end of the dinner, having gorged with food, he and Joan slide off into the mean streets of Cheltenham in search of Gas Nightclub, (a heady establishment) to dance the night away with joie de vivre that eclipsed that of the Club’s young blades.

Bernard, like John, is an ex-colleague of Peter Wright, of Spy Catcher fame. His memoirs, too, are eagerly awaited by the ‘D Notice’ Committee, the C.I.A., but not, sadly, by the K.G.B. Bernard has not been known to watch us play but his loyal commitment to the Club and its finances have never faltered over the years. Bernard and Anne’s Monday mornings outward journeys to Cleeve are recognised as metronomic in time and pace, inducing Mrs Ryman to check her watch on the outward leg and Tony Newcombe at the Farmers Arms to draw his first pint on the inward. Stay with us, both of you.

Now for the greying eminence, one David Watkin Price – a post-war phenomenon. Raised in the Valleys, educated at the feet of the rugby greats (he knew them all, intimately, and is a fount of infinite knowledge). Known professionally as Merlin, he has been a keen member since its re-birth and has retained a ‘pot’ in the Shutter since 1953. Now forty years on, and bitterly grieving the absence of the J.P.R.s, Edwards and Bennetts of the ‘70s he nevertheless gives our Club tireless and enthusiastic support. He is sustained in this and many other duties by his wife Claire – a devoted servant to his capricious activities and frequent devious excursions. The Cad, however, sadistically accuses her of having neo Thatcherite thoughts, and craven responses to the currently heartfelt cries from Tory H.Q. but, you know, he takes the Telegraph regularly (in plain cover, of course) and the back seat of the car when Claire drives. The Club, having broken bread at her table will have none of this calumny.

CHAPTER THREE : THE FIELDS OF GLORY – THE PLAYERS

We are thankful to John Greenall for the main part of the opening paragraph. John, as a then young stalwart joined the Club in those hopeful post-war years and played through 1946 – 1950, when it disbanded for want of players. He returned at its rebirth in the ‘60s. Others in the ranks at this time included Graham South, Bill Spragg (Betty Stanford’s father), John Ryman and Rex

6 Rhodes. Mrs Ryman provided teas --- a shrewd choice since she controlled the village food supplies in those days of rationing.

John Greenall played in a particularly newsworthy match against a powerful Glos. County XI, captained by Tom Goddard. Tom, in his benefit year, was an off-spin bowler. The square for this match was marked out in the field at the rear of Mrs Barefoot’s Hales Farm in Malleson Road. (see Appendix)

Notable Gotherington players of this era were John and Fred Washbourne from Oxenton. Fred was the keeper and John a fast bowler who so impressed Goddard that he was invited to take part in the County trials at Bristol. Their father vetoed this suggestion preferring his energies to be expended on his farm. Another personality was Bill Gough, a handyman for Mrs Malleson (an important village celebrity at the time) and later to be employed by the Hambro family as a chauffeur. Bill had an unquenchable need to score, consistently aiming at 28 runs an over, which he is reported to have frequently achieved.

We referred earlier to the redoubtable Rex Rhodes, regarded in his day as a mean bowler with a ‘wobbly’ action as confusing to himself as it was to the opposition. As for John he doesn’t himself claim to have set terraces alight but he played the game and, really, that’s all that counts in the end.

Now, before we assault the sensibilities of those more recent players it must be admitted that several records are ‘lost without trace’ and we must crave for the tolerance of those whose ‘career bests’ are lost.

Keith Anderson

Keith of Oxenton joined us as wicket keeper and batsman of high quality, having played at Minor County level but manifestly still enjoying himself at ours. His nimbleness of foot, body and hands in taking a catch during a tour of Devon could have been choreographed by Diagelev and danced by Nijinski – such is his style and gravitas when walking to the wicket it is only right that his alter-ego is equally appropriately indulged as the County Education Officer.

Jack Asquith

A relative newcomer to our village, Jack – an ex-submariner – has quickly made an impact on our fortunes for, in his dual role of imaginative vice captaincy and as an accurate medium pace bowler, he has hustled many opposing sides to an early bath. We are aware that ‘U’ Boats travel smoothly under water and consequently Jack does not sway as surely does Master Merrett, although some detect the hint of a tilt to starboard in his run-up, and to port in the mess.

John and Laurie Beck

John and his son Laurie are true sportsmen but, regretfully we, of late, see little of them, attributable to John’s shoulder damage and Laurie’s involvement in Gloucester and England R.F.C. training sessions. We can’t demur this but trust we will not be forgotten when those Cardiff or Twickenham tickets sail their way. John was, when fit, a successful medium pacer and popular Vice Captain and his short career was highlighted with a winning 6 wicket haul versus Llanelli Wanderers. When Laurie had the chance he was a very big hitter indeed. Remember, both of you, the Club will always be your welcoming host whenever.

7 John Beswick

Demonic in the field and a viciously inaccurate thrower of the ball. Very fast on his feet, and thus nothing to him to field a ball at mid-off when fielding at mid-on. Consequently he followed the pattern and left town.

Eddie Brandon

He left the side far too soon – for tennis would you believe it? Eddie in his short time was a medium pacer who unfortunately didn’t stay with us long enough to show his full potential.

Ron Brimble

Another former captain who came to the fore when the Club’s fortunes were ending to flag. He, with his two sons Neil and Nick, combined with the three Freemans and the indefatigable Derek Fry sustained the Club through some difficult seasons. He batted with style, able to stroke beautifully through the covers, and commanded the side decisively. He surrendered himself to golf too soon, we think. In mitigation he claims ‘I’ve left you my sons’. So he has: -

Neil Brimble

He excited us all with his run-getting and out-fielding and when permitted by domestic demands, and again, golf, still does. His fast bowling in competition with Jonathan Freeman was probably the best opening attack the Club has seen. His brother Nick follows the trend.

Nick Brimble

Nick returned from foreign fields to give us a much needed boost. His when in full flow is imperious and, more important, consistent. In particular, we treasure his important maiden century against Prestbury and also his 50+ against Devonport Services, followed the next day with a century against Whichurch Wanderers. He has also kept wicket for the side, our only hope is that unlike father and brother he waits a little longer before turning his attention to golf.

Richard Carter

Builder, legendary and stylish, ‘Man about Town’, entrepreneur and utterly clueless on the field of play, Richard has given more to sport than many of those duffel coated wiseacres who clutter club house bars. He is a fine friend of the Club and has been from the very beginning. In the company of his wife Dianne, he regularly attends the annual dinner but has yet to collapse in the soup. Some of us still remember that stunning catch at Corse Lawn when fielding as silly silly mid-off from a full blooded drive and seeing that large hand scoop it up only inches from the ground.

Clive Chattell

An agile determined wicket keeper Clive is a young member of the side. As such and, naturally, yet to develop the unspeakable propensities of his colleagues, he is already marked out to be a valued team player. Such is the Club’s confidence in Clive that after a few games he has been awarded the ‘Young Cricketer of the Year’ cup.

Tony Church

A vast hitter, now raising sheep and Australians in the outback.

David Cooper

8 A ‘one-off’ is David and, for a change, a nuclear scientist and an authority on beer quality based on wandering in and out of beer cellars, tavernas and estaminets of Europe whilst on the trail of the golden elixir. On the field he played well, significantly by winning the match against Devon United Hospitals with a glorious 50 for which he was rewarded with the ‘Man of the Match’ award of a bottle of Scotch. (Miniature of course) He had other facets including an ability to use a diary for a minimum of five years and, most intriguingly, a habit of looking at the bowler who spread-eagled his stumps with an expression of contempt and bewilderment.

David Alwyn Dixon (Dixie)

A wicket-keeper of near genius, Minor County quality and a doughty ‘bat’. More importantly he gave the Club the vital cachet of style and warmth by his personality. His recent death brought letters of condolence from many Clubs encountered on tour with us. For us all, young and old, he was a man revered and loved (see In Memorium).

The Freemans

David

The first captain of 1965. Welsh by birth and a reject Cheltenham R.F.C. prop-forward. Now a general dogsbody, caring for the beloved and, rightly responsible for any disastrous results, not too many these days. He further relaxes by retailing ad. nauseum his outstanding performances with bat and ball. He would say ‘no one is impressed’ but we all know he was (and did quite often) capable of bowling the best of sides out given of course the right conditions and plenty of luck. However his sons would amply compensate for his failings both on and off the field.

Jonathan

Is the current captain of the Club and has been with the occasional break for several years through both good and bad years. We would all agree I’m sure that he is the best all-round cricketer ever produced by Gotherington. His thundering ‘sixes’ and controlled medium-paced bowling has shattered many an opponent’s hopes and wickets. We will remember with pride a superb 103 v. St.

Stephens at Swindon Village when he had the residents from across the road all coming out as the ball continually hit the roofs of their houses. On tour in Devon, a devastating spell of bowling to destroy Watchet (a senior league side), taking 7 for 28.

Nick

A hard and devoted Club worker, one-time secretary, currently Tour Organiser, never pretends to emulate Jonathan but is a consistently reliable and versatile bat with plenty of scars to prove it. (Remember Withington Nick!). He regularly scores the critical 10s and 40s as well as possessing that subtle line in leg-spin bowling, seen recently being imitated by that young Australian Warne.

Derek Fry

Derek can be considered another heavyweight of the Club. An earlier captain, secretary and of late chairman. Words fail the Author when attempting to define his contribution to the Club’s fortunes. He has been described by some as the definitive opening bat, an excellent slip fielder, and the ultimate weapon when very occasionally invited to tax the opponents batsmen with a mesmeric low bowling. We have an irradicable memory of Derek when, on tour playing against Berthllwydd Arms (drawn from a Celtic tribe) he was obliged to face the fastest attack in our history. He was seen to sway his athletic frame with bewildering fluency while his footwork left the likes of Nureyev gasping! He went on to score 48, 90% of our teams total. We are told he still has the bruises to prove it!!

9 Brian Gardiner

Yet another past Chairman and an outstanding cricketer. The Echo’s ‘5s and 50s’ column rarely has cause to omit a weekly reference to his prowess with the bat. What we certainly relish as surely Brian does is his 102 runs v. the deadly rivals, Woodmancote. His innings was faultless. He left the wicket after a brilliant catch: an appropriate end to a brilliant innings. His arrival in the village is a blessing, he sets us all an example on and off the fields of play. Keep going Brian. Woodmancote seeks revenge!

Alan Green

Now a bearded and benign individual, and half as old as time itself, Alan teeters towards the ledge where perch his former team mates, themselves grizzled veterans. A former Club treasurer, his period with us was never without pith or moment. Dour in the field when catches were dropped and laxitude was rife, his mouth foamed with hyperbole while he expressed his displeasure with fluent Anglo-Saxon phrases. So much for the ‘pith’. His ‘moment’ came, however, when with a devastating spell of off-spin he demolished Dumbleton to set a record Club return of 9 wickets for 17 runs. Thereafter he became unbearable, and was clearly on the verge of kissing babies. Languishing these days in Newnham on Severn he has retained his loyalty to us, occasionally on tour and frequently at our Dinners and other functions.

Tim Hearn

Tim is one of the younger members of the side, inspiring us with his future promise. His bowling is frequently rewarding and he reveals considerable stamina by sustaining 20 over spells with consistent accuracy and success. Like a select few of the senior players his name regularly occupies the columns of the Echo. A whimsical and thoughtful young man with a latent touch of mischievousness in his make up, Tim is a credit to the Club. Contemporaries of Tim are Andrew Holder, Simon Manders-Trett and Steve Ford, all of whom have graduated to the side after incubation in the Club’s cricketers’ crèche (Juniors).

They all contribute with good heart and evident enjoyment and, more relevantly, aspire to perform to advantage at the crease. All exhibit a proper degree of irresponsibility when on tour, and are already gathering snippets for a 50 year souvenir book.

Neil Hyde, Gary Owen, Stuart Privett and ‘B’ White

The aforementioned ‘Spear Carriers’ of the ‘60s they were contemporaries in Pates of Bill Pullen. Neil, a superb outfielder and useful bat. We remember the catch at Woodmancote some years ago running round the boundary some forty yards before snapping it up inches from the floor and saving the row of greenhouses behind. Gary was a very good and probably the first off-spinner to grace the new playing field. It is said by many at the time he would walk into any County side. Yes he was that good (where are you now?) Stuart joined the Club when we were desperate for a pace bowler and filled the gap for about 3 years having turned in some very good performances. ‘B’ White it’s said consistently wore yellowing whites and played with total incomprehension.

His thoughts resided at the higher levels of concern; those associated with the collection of University degrees, four at the last count including Chemical Engineering through Librarianship. To them we say thanks.

‘Kiwi’

Originating in Oxenton he has passed through The Orient to finally bed down in New Zealand. A natural sportsman we wish he was still in the side.

10 Peter J. McMurray

Here, again, we salute an inhabitant of the blackboard jungle. Peter as a 17 year old was one of the fastest bowlers in local cricket. Opposing batsmen quailed when he so much as toyed with the ball, and his averages confirm that with only 50 runs all out Gotherington would win. Typically maverick, by nature after 2 or 3 years of mean assaults on wickets, he underwent a cruel metamorphosis manifested by an insane conviction that his real talent lay in spin bowling. He could not be disabused of this lunatic presumption but, perhaps, his eye for a ball will enable him to read and master the finger licking spin of his ultimate superior, The Secretary of State for Education.

David ‘Reg’ Millington

Although not a villager, ‘Reg’ was invited to join the Club way back in the ‘60s when we were in desperate need of a wicket-keeper and what a catch he has turned out to be. A one-time captain he has now progressed to Club Secretary. His batting record is probably second to none regularly scoring 50s, 60s and 70s. His dedication to the game and his stylish posture at the crease and advice both on and off the field is very much appreciated. We have now his son Peter who has just joined the side and in his very first game would you believe it scored more runs than his ‘old man’, we are fortunate indeed.

Terry Moore

An opening bat with style, difficult to dismiss as long as he didn’t have a poke outside the off- stump. He has now risen to the dizzy heights of Chief Inspector in the Police Force. You can see why we couldn’t take Terry on tour with us, we all fear that arrests would have been made that we couldn’t field a full side the next day.

Robert McLaren

Robert is our financial controller – and well does he do it. The books are balanced, the columns immaculate and, believe it or not, the figures add up. His task is as demanding as it is to an opening bat facing ‘Sid’ Lawrence. God help the miscreant who fails to pay his dues! Robert played little cricket but in the early years he showed signs of being a superb fast leg-break bowler. Unfortunately his direction was less precise than his mathematics. No one has yet been able to describe his action (it is said that his style was copied by Mike Proctor with some success). A right armer he contrived to release the ball over the left shoulder and on the level of his ears. Hypnotising. After several tours with the side he finally decided it wasn’t worth coming as he always failed to see Saturday or Sunday (for some reason). For a period he was the Club’s umpire. What’s happened Robert? L.B.W. decisions are not the same.

Jamie and Andrew Macdonald

We have already mentioned Dad who I’m sure we remember making up the side for a game or two. The same can be said of Jamie and Andrew although they mainly played in the Juniors when we were members of the Vale of Evesham youth league. We understand that Andrew has now developed into quite a useful bowler much, I’m sure, to the utter amazement of Derek Fry who spent hour upon hour with him in the nets and on the field attempting to get him to put the ball on the square let alone the wicket. They both play rarely these days but more than compensate particularly on tour where their indulgence came close to eclipsing the antics of Dad. More tours lie ahead chaps.

Jack Merrett

Jack’s walk with its rolling gait, suggests the outfield is a heaving deck of a foundering ship in a storm. A hard hitting left hand bat and medium to slow wobbly bowler. Nourished to the limit by his

11 wife, Rose, he has taken on a new lease of life, never, ever, letting us down when asked, however inconvenienced. Can one (dare one?) forget his 7 for 19 versus St. Florence in Dyfed? Unfortunately this was missed by the majority of supporters who had gone for a short walk only to return to find it all over.

Brian Minchin

A man of many parts: builder, decorator, sailor, school teacher, and cricketer. Played for us a couple of times, and made an excellent job of repairing the shed. Sadly he has now left for other and wider shores.

Jeremy Mower

Keen and disgustingly fit he demonstrates a total incomprehension of the game, frequently failing to distinguish between bat and ball, or wicket from goalpost. His greatest asset to the Club is that he WILL share a room with Dom Tarling thus saving anyone else.

John Nimmo

A former captain, all-rounder and dynamic leader who became a mainspring of the Club when dark days seemed imminent. It was a sad day when he moved to Yorkshire and spent his leisure time in the local leagues. Then on to Banbury and now of no fixed address.

Steve Prichard

An impertinent fellow is young Steve (another product of John Postlethwaite’s nursery) played a couple of seasons for us. A fast medium bowler who could bat a bit. Best performance 8 for 40 v. Elmley Castle. Now gone over to the ‘Enemy’ Woodmancote.

David Postlethwaite

David sometimes strolls rather than strides in the field, radiating an air of almost Edwardian aloofness while those around him tear about with manic intensity. It must be said however that his image merely disguises a great love of the game and a deal of competence with bat and ball. He, too, has the Club’s future in his hands. Like his father, John, the hockey stick is wielded with some effect too.

David C. Price

When assessing David’s contribution to local cricket we are obliged to brush away the mists of time itself for he was an ‘original’; a vice-chairman when our toes again re-entered the water in the hedonistic ‘60s. He was the first of a subsequent few to hoist the ball into the Tilley’s pond at Moat Farm. We all have good cause to resent this as when (as he frequently does) reminds us of it time and time again. He is no stranger to events of this calibre for he reminisces that he hurled himself once from a Wellington bomber into a North African wadi suitably accompanied by a packet of Woodbines and a flask of whisky. Sadly he rarely revisits the field of glory nowadays, preferring to travel the land in his mobile bed- sit. Readers please note: his vacancy for a postilion is still open. Thank you anyway, David, for what you gave us.

Anthony Puffett

Puff, as he is known, enjoys and gives pleasure at his cricket. An ex-Boys Club and Junior XI member Tony has filled our score-books several times with significant figures relating to both runs and catches, both behind the stumps and latterly at cover, where we all envy his zealous and enthusiastic out fielding.

12 Recently married to Jo who has promised to keep him up to scratch for many a season to come.

Colin Ralph

Our present Chairman who, over a number of years, has also been long-time fixture secretary and one of the most gifted captains with the Club. Colin joined us from Eagle Star and we soon came to realise what an asset he would be. He has with his subtle off-breaks destroyed the leading batsmen of our opponents and with cool arrogance compounded their grief by making hay with the bat. His captaincy, too, was positive with every fielder being practically nailed into position to take (or fail to, at their peril) the inevitable catch. Unfortunately for us his cricket has been somewhat curtailed of late through illness. We all wish you a speedy recovery and look forward to your re- appearance soonest.

Chris Rhodes

Educated at Dean Close along with a couple of our other members, younger son of John and Joan, Junior XI, graduated into the senior side Chris was quick to make his mark. Chris is an extrovert stroke maker if somewhat erratic as a fast bowler. He is boring in his recollection of his 100 against Ryeworth although we all know what a fine innings that was. Now constrained by the demands of a stream of mini Rhodes he seldom appears. The Club recommends a pause in the connubial frolics. With Dom Tarling, the practical jokers of the side. One will never forget the expression on ‘Captain Ralph’s’ face after lighting his pipe one tea time to find it had been filled with chocolate cake. ‘Yuk!’

Meurig Richards

A name to conjure with let alone pronounce, Meurig is yet another pedagogue but one enhanced by his racial origins (Welsh) and, like so many exiles, buttressed by an Anglo-Saxon wife, the fair Barbara. He, incidentally, outdoes us all by having a ‘Grandpa’ who lived and worked in the village. Meurig it seemed to most of the side, always to be injury prone as not many matches went by when we saw him leaving the field with blood oozing from some part of his body or fingers at right angles to the hand. Sadly we shall all miss this as he has decided to call it a day. Please keep in touch.

Dominic Tarling

‘Dom’, at the wicket elegance itself, stylish stroke play, round actioned bowler, practical joker in the extreme. Yes, we’ve all been on the end of them, some more than others. Would we be without him??? On tour daughters were locked up in anticipation of his arrival; not deterred we still found him on the doorstep the following day with the milk (one empty). He was once known to kid a whole pub of cavorting youngsters that we were the ‘Cutting Crew’ group on holiday resting. He, however, persists in denying responsibility for local press inserts eg. ‘Required: educated, witty, brainy bimbo for romantic bachelor, to provide total relaxation and consolation, as and when necessary’. We still await that elusive ‘ton’. The nearest and best opportunity was at Prestbury a few years back when on 98 he threw it away with the worst shot he has ever played in his life. ‘Dom’ has had many other notable performances too numerous to mention. I’m sure there is a lot more to come and we all hope it’s soon.

Roy Thomas

An elegant bat, agile wicket keeper and perfectly formed, Roy joined us early from Coombe Hill having been enticed to us in locally lean years by the then captain, Ron Brimble. It must be said that Roy must be one of our ill-fated batsmen, having played himself in and looking capable of a big score, he would be soon on his way back to the pavilion having been given out to a great or catch or other unfortunate dismissal.

13 Now approaching his dotage he last appeared in our anniversary match when, as of old, he performed accordingly.

Robert Shelmardine

A great all-rounder was Bob with North Country habits who had a tasty style with a bat; sadly now retired from the game.

Roger Smith

Roger was one of the few players to come out of Oxenton and played for the Club when it reformed. He was a stylish stroke maker and the first club member to pass 50. Now, we believe, still playing on some other meadow.

Charles ‘Wag’ Stanford

The mood of sombre reflection returns as we remember ‘Wag’ and the joy of life which radiated from him to stimulate and charm those of us who played – and always laughed – in his company. With Alec Fry, he was instrumental in starting the Gotherington Junior side. With his death the community as well as ourselves lost a person of great warmth coupled with concern for others. In this context it would be invidious to refer to his ability as a cricketer; it is enough to say ‘Thank you Wag and to Betty. We shall never forget him’.

George Stayte

Few will remember George because, again, he played for the Club when it reformed in the ‘60s. A quiet, inoffensive bloke absolutely useless with bat; not the best of fielders unless to his own bowling which was his prowess. Yes, the first and only bowler for the Club to take 100 wickets in one season. George was the ideal foil for fiery ‘Fred’ McMurray and could be relied on to bowl just on or outside the off stump (not a lot of bowlers today know where that is) with a bit of a wobble either way. However, no longer with us he left without trace so to speak after one Annual General Meeting when he ran off with a young lady, never to be seen again. What a waste.

Kevan Wood

Kevan follows in the line of fast bowlers who have tormented our opponents, wicket keepers and slip fielders alike. Derek Fry, our beautifully proportioned expert catcher, can vouch for that as he recalls the destruction of a strong Smiths XI. One unforgettable moment v. Dumbleton after an early finish in the proper game, when the Dumbleton captain had already had his stumps shattered by Kevan, refused to play unless Kevin kept wicket. Kevan returned to the Club after a short break and recently became the Club’s Captain. Sadly, like others before him, he has now married and left the area. Needless to say we are now without a good strike bowler.

David Worley

From Woolstone, a founder member of the ‘60s and a good one at that, he was tragically drowned while on holiday with his young wife. He was an excellent bowler and reliable bat and further helped us as Secretary. In his memory the family presented a trophy which is keenly contested for until this day. We will always treasure it and recall him with sadness and pride.

So ends these sickening paeans of praise (oleaginous weren’t they?) for the past and present occupiers of the crease, pavilions and tap rooms. Enough is surely enough, you say. Pause a minute!! Have we forgotten, as the stumps are drawn, those beautiful charismatic charmers of our kitchens – devoted makers of cakes, sandwiches and brewers of tea? Must our wives, lovers, and sweethearts be dismissed as mere accoutrements of our trade? Hell’s teeth. No.

14 So we begin at the beginning -

CHAPTER FOUR: THE ENTRANCE OF THE GODDESSES – THE LADIES

We have to tread very carefully in this chapter because for one reason or other we are going to fail to mention someone who has at some time helped with the teas. To them please accept our sincere apologies. Now to the task at hand:-

First, there were (and thankfully are) Dorothy Freeman and Zena Price. How they jousted for our favours (contain yourself, Ed) as, for seeming unending seasons, they competed on alternate weekends to bake the juiciest cake, to prepare the ultimate succulent scones, to outwit each other with the choicest dish. The success of the team was secondary to the delicacy of their pastry and the applause of their gorged consumers. The result of their contests can only be judged as a tie. Only their spouses would dare to cast a deciding vote.

Later, an overseer the likes of Betty Stanford, Pam Greenall, and Mavis Macdonald, each took responsibility for a season; the standard being well maintained.

After these ‘Cordon Bleu’ Belles came a sad decline for we were obliged to draw on the resources of a commercial outfit who provided stolid sausage rolls, inch-wide frozen spam sandwiches and tortured bellies. The atmosphere became as interesting as that surrounding a group of cowboys bloated on beans. We still staggered on until Brian Gardiner put an end to it. Having been nursed on delicate and thin ham and cucumber sandwiches on the luscious playing grounds of the ‘Yuppie infested’ South East he turned to who else? His Mary organised a dramatic pull out from the quagmire. Her solution was simple:- Our ladies were invited to form a squad of their own to present the teas on a rota basis.

This was an enormous success. It was willingly adopted by our unquestionably glamorous wives and lovers (leavened by the occasional sweetheart) who have excelled themselves in the Club’s service, not to say entranced the more macho of our opponents. Put quite boldly, the game of cricket in Gotherington could not continue without them, and certainly not as happy as it does. Their names are legion and must perforce be recorded. They are:-

Joan Asquith, Roz Beck, Christine Freeman, Mary Gardiner, Mavis Macdonald,

Rose Merret, Hilary Millington, Mary Postlethwaite, Debbie Preece, Claire Price,

Jo Puffet, Barbara Richards and, never least, Margaret Tarling.

Each naturally deserves a ‘Biog’ as well as the end of season bouquet of flowers but we are restrained by our ‘Briefs’ who are concerned lest the ensuing praise may be construed as coded invitations to dally with the authors. Why not indeed?

15 CHAPTER FIVE : THE FRIENDS

Derek Pugh

Derek is our non-playing, highly indulgent (to us) President and, as befits the Office, a superb benefactor. The original ‘Travelling Man’ – worldwide at that – he invariably adjusts his schedules to tour with us, dine at our table in company with wife Joan and frolic when appropriate. Keeping up with the likes of Podge Rogers, Adrian Tedstone, Dom Tarling and others we well remember the darts match at Tenby (with relief). Only a Welshman aided by a Welsh wife could suppress with such aplomb his anecdotes about us when he delivers his after dinner address to the gathered assembly. We understand he has now passed over into semi-retirement and it is with great sincere joy we wish him well and hope he enjoys many a good time and hope we see more of him.

Terry and Margaret Browne

Now we have to examine the qualities of two highly decorative tenants of our local H.Q. The Shutter, viz: Terry and ‘Marg’. Terry, as we know, is of the warrior breed, once a resplendent and gaily caparisoned Officer in the Royal Artillery, now a purveyor of fine ales to the thirsty hordes who enjoy the good life in a fine hostelry. He, regrettably, lacks the harrowing wounds of combat

(he often and tearfully thanks the scarred, battle hardened veterans for giving their ‘yesterdays for his todays’ but holds us in awe with his tales of blasting off blanks on the fringes of our lost Empire, to wit: Malaysia, Hong Kong, Piccadilly, Germany and Prestbury – where he won the most glorious victory winning the heart of the glamorous Margaret. Flippancy, though, is not in order when we consider his service in Northern Ireland. Thanks Terry. Turning to the ever young looking Margaret who never seems to have a bad word for anyone and whose smile gladdens the heart every time we enter the pub, always willing to do what she can to see the smooth running of functions etc. What an effort it must be sometimes. We all sympathise and send our most sincere thanks for sometimes turning a bad day into a bright and cheerful evening. Terry, we additionally thank you for your generous Patronage of our Club. Keep drawing the ale, all of you, for we’ll keep drinking it.

Philip Seaford

Snapper Philip would follow the team and its members relentlessly flashing at any interesting incident that occurred on or off the field of play. Himself a dedicated non-cricketer, though he has been known to try. All players were envious when he won an autographed bat at one of our dinners. The photos in the Shutter will serve to jog the memory of this stalwart supporter. A good companion friend, what more could we ask.

The Tilley Brothers

Peter and Paul, twin maestros of the local entertainment world many delicate feet and thrusting thighs have vibrated to their music throughout the area. Now only slightly subdued music wise they cater for the Penelopes and Phillipas of this world who prefer, alternatively, the more random oscillations of equine rumps. The Club will never forget the enjoyable nights in the Village Hall dancing to the early hours to the Tilley Showband, and sometimes a disco which they so kindly provided. We applaud their tolerance particularly when ball rain down on their property. Recently they have turned their prowess to the making of cider! Their particular beverage is of a decent vintage and exudes a provocative bouquet which challenges high quality opposition batsmen to focus on the incoming ball with any degree of confidence. Our own batsmen however seem to thrive on the stuff. Keep brewing chaps. Our kind regards also go to your long suffering spouses Jo and Anne.

16 EPILOGUE As we have said the shadows have lengthened to obscure our fields of play and occasional glory. The sun has set as it were but only to pause and to rise again in the coming seasons. No doubt these seasons will depend on you young people ‘out there’ to join a merry band and sustain our future. The game of cricket is unique in its cultivation of good manners, good fellowship, its intolerance of the improbable umpiring and, supremely, the friendships made on and off the field.

To be formal (for once) the opportunity must be taken to thank those who have made cricket in Gotherington possible:

Gotherington Parish Council – who own the ground The Boys’ Club – who offer in-house amenities The Village Hall Committee – who enable our Ladies to provide teas The Villagers – who provide the players and be entertained occasionally The Vice Presidents and Life Members – who grant us financial support

Last but not least

The Patron and his Ladies – who indulge us at close of play We have earlier mentioned the demise of some of our friends. Sadly, before going to print, we have lost John Poole, Parish Chairman, Club supporter, and tourist. To those left behind we offer our deepest sympathy.

Finally, dear friends, the authors are eternally grateful to Bill Pullen who initiated this project and delved into and exhausted the archives, memories and tattered score-books in search of the enclosed data, from which David Freeman and David Price strung words together to form an incoherent whole.

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