By Murray Hedgcock (pictured, above) Pelham Grenville Wodehouse, freelance journalist and rising author, at the tenderish age of 23, walked on to the sacred turf of Lord's Cricket ground to play for The Authors v The Actors on June 29, 1905. It took 95 years (near enough to that magic century of cricketing lore) for a Plummy pilgrimage to be made to the same sacred spot, when The P G Wodehouse Society (UK) toured Lord's on July 19, 2000, in memory of the Master, and his love of cricket. This was the highlight of Day Three of the In Search of Blundings tour, attended by most of the registered party (a couple of renegades bunked off on the feeble excuse of visiting Kew Gardens, but we do not concern ourselves with such outsiders). The tour was lent tone - or even Tony - by Tony Ring, not only an MCC member, and much involved in setting up our visit, but also a devotee of the ancient sport of real tennis, which is played at Lord's by Tony and cronies (a political gag, that). We were greeted in the fabled Long Room not by a mere functionary, but by the Secretary of the Marylebone Cricket Club himself. Roger Knight is not only a man of power in the game of cricket: he also happens to be an Old Alleynian, and so had a special feeling for the doings of Old Alleynian Wodehouse, and for we who follow with reverence in his footsteps. No-one has yet explained satisfactorily, by the way, just why Plum, with his genuine love of cricket, and his contacts within the cricket world, never became an MCC member. Roger explained the special role of MCC - still a private club - in the game of cricket: more than 200 years old, it moves slowly in some areas (such as admitting women members last year, rather grudgingly), but imaginatively in others, as with its sponsorship of the intriguingly different stands fringing the ground. Tour guide Irving Bernard then took over, filling in the bits he respectfully felt his Boss had omitted, and agreeing it was a shame - not least because of the somewhat unusual sight of sunshine in an English summer - that there was no cricket actually been played this day, for us to observe.
The Plummies had displayed astonishing self-control in keeping itchy fingers off the camera triggers (having been told that photography is distinctly Not Permitted in the Long Room). They made up for it in the home dressing room, where the great England players of the past century and more had relaxed, rejoiced or mourned. The guide's comments were practically drowned in the clicking of camera shutters as the record was taken of the English summer game, enthusiasts snapping one another in a setting of cricketing fame rarely seen by the game's ordinary followers. The new Grandstand saw Irving sprinkle more detail of the ground with more anecdotes - not least the historic feat of the Australian Albert Trott in being the only player in Lord's history to hit a ball from a match in the middle, clean over the splendid Victorian pavilion. Trott never knew when to leave well alone: when after years of faithful service with Middlesex, he was granted a benefit match (proceeds to provide him with a retirement fund, in the absence of a pension), he took four wickets in five balls, and then a further hat-trick, thus ending the match a day early, and as he expressed it himself, "I bowled myself out of Lord's into the gutter". The revolutionary Media Centre - paid for largely by those of us who bank with NatWest, which funded the £6.8 million cost, provided an insight into the way the media works. Irving's praise for the building - built of aluminium, in a shipyard, and winner of a series of architectural awards - was slightly spoiled by your correspondent, who works in the centre. The building is in effect hermetically sealed, with no opening windows, so that the cricket writer does not get a "feel" of the crowd atmosphere, it was pointed out. And also - the TV sets on which reporters refresh their sometimes distracted or unreliable minds as to what has happened during play, are set so that the glare makes them almost invisible. Irving says he will see what he can do.... Tony Ring at this point sought to lure the masses to his beloved real tennis court, involving a trudge to the far end of ground: the bulk went along happily, but a breakaway group stopped off at the Lord's Shop, buying everything from cricket balls made of chocolate (to earnest debate as to whether they should be tested first by tasting), cricket-themed Christmas cards, ties, keyrings, and even a rather swish Lord's sweater which, we are told, will grace the streets of Foxboro in the near future. (Ed: Why not Foxborough? Me: No idea). It is necessary, in the interests of scrupulous reporting, to record one vital difference between Plum's adventures at Lord's in 1905, and ours of recent date. He got to tread on the famous turf (necessary, to play there). We, on the other hand, were enjoined amiably, but most sternly and purposefully by our guide - "By all means take pictures of your group with the famous Pavilion framing you in the background, in front of the Media Centre. But whatever you do - DON'T STEP ON THE GRASS". We kept off the grass, took our pictures, and left quietly.
How far they got, your correspondent has to admit, he does not know: he himself got caught up in the security alert at Green Park Tube, caused by a series of bomb threats, and the explosion (thankfully with no casualties) of an actual bomb at Ealing. I spent a long wait staring thoughtfully at the Tube map, which indicated that if I travelled far enough on the Piccadilly Line, I should reach Ickenham. Here, if ever, was a golden opportunity for the imagination of Lord Ickenham to be put into play. Any man who "in the course of a single afternoon impersonated with complete success not only an official from the bird shop, come to clip the claws of the parrot at The Cedars, Mafeking Road, but Mr Roddis, owner of The Cedars, and Mr J.G. Bulstrode, a resident of the same address ... and if called upon to do so, could have done them a very good parrot, too", would no doubt have had the answer to my travel problem. A quick impression of the managing director of London Transport, ordering the guard to open up his cubicle and let your correspondent abroad, would no doubt have been well within Lord I's capabilities. And got me home in time to report on deadline to the Webmaster. If only..... |
The old Tavern - which was there in Plum's day - was pulled down 33
years ago: this was a pub in which you could drink in the ordinary way
on the street side, or from duplicate bars on the inside, once you had
paid your entrance fee to the ground. Its replacement, The new Lord's
Tavern, just outside the gates, provided a happy substitute today for a
leisured drink, a leisured lunch, and leisured chatter on matters
Plummish and otherwise, before the Wodehouse party split up, with the
rest of the day free, a strong detachment planning to observe the Queen
Mother's Birthday pageant.