Club Championship 2013. Vintage (Over 55) Draw

2013 Veterans Over 45 Draw

Club Championships: A Cynic's Squinting View

You might notice that this review of the BSC 2012 Championships mirrors my playing contribution to the weekend's activities: an uninspired and unfocussed thrash around with one or two points of light; displaying an occasional flash of brilliance but inevitably; nowt but disappointing... 
I'm not bitter mind; just one of many who seems to have lost the will. I was reduced to spectator by an early thrashing from Napoleon, a brief encounter with 'Not So' and then (most hurtful) a rousting by a hopelessly hapless Goldilocks. 
How bad must I have been?
In the words of Annabelle Mears: 'Whatever!"
I know that I've published it before but this graph seems to perfectly quantify the weekend's thrashings. 
Just dipping my toes for sure but; here's what I saw:


"There's a certain relief in change, even if it is just from bad to worse" 


So spake the bard and he wasn't wrong. Inspired by the Basmati team meals we were all hoping for some spicy Madras moments, expecting a Chicken Tikka Massalla compromise, but were served up a soggy Coronation Chicken sarny of a weekend; dependable fare but just a little bit bland and... crusty.
A strange cloud of ennui seemed to permeate the courts and galleries; no new faces really; the same old slightly cracked teapots thrashing around in a vain attempt to cop a final groping feel of their lusty youth. Even the usually dependable 'swinging dicks' were starting to droop and look a little limp and listless... 
You could tell that one or two of the deluded 'old guard' sensed that 'this was their time', although it was transparent that it was more than likely their 'last time'.
Bullard was bullish in the 'Vintage' tournament; he only had to wade through the lusterless mire; a 'round robin' that was Atko (talentless), Bob Heard (delusional) and Koko (past master) and some silverware would surely be his. The look on little his face as Alexander callously dispatched him back to 'the home' was heartbreaking. He did manage to make the final of the 'B's, losing out to the Machiavellian maestro Courtney-Luck. One wondered whether John was fueled by blind ambition or something more chemical;  he just seemed a little too... lusty; indeed you just knew that when the lovely Chris made her inevitable sunday morning offer of 'super sex?', Bullard would finally forgo the soup and plump for option B. 

The whiff of Viagra was everywhere; however its only obvious effects were to stiffen PCL's resolve and Atko's back. Courtney Luck was everywhere; a Simon Templar amongst minions; rolling back the years with his dynamic and elegant attempts to finally hit a ball to the back of the court. Ditto Atko who thrashed around like goat in an acid bath but still couldn't trouble the court door with anything like a full length. His semi final 'C' plate agin young Alex Dyson was a memorably turgid encounter; less a case of 'the king is dead long, live the king' , than "does anyone want to buy a 'Prince'? Strings unused..." Dyson junior is starting to show real promise with his mixture of languid length and canny drops. Let's hope that he's inherited his mother's ticker and mental strength. He finally gave up the ghost muttering something about "staying fresh for the paper round." Atko was too tired to be overjoyed but later ventured out for the 'C' final. A glimpsed rear view told that he was playing Carol Hosey (beautiful hair) but a quick pirouette revealed the gorgeous Andy Purnell who'd been hogging the men's hair dryer again. This was a real Beauty/Beast encounter with malevolent Mike's 60 years of experience eventually overcoming Andy's beatific benevolence. Just after the drugs test Atko protested that the only benefit he noticed from the weekend's Viagra injection was that "it stops me rolling out of bed when I'm p*ssed."
The best competitive game that I watched was a muscular romp between Chris Gildersleve and newcomer Antti, our flying Finn. Southpaw Antti reminds me a bit of a genial William Priest (without the "would you mind if we played a let on that winner?" guff) in the way he throws himself around. Chris had no comeback and, predictably, no shots; eventually succumbing to the smorgasbord that is the perky Finn's twitchy finesse. Chris resigned himself to the mundanities of the plate competition; he waltzed to the final where he briefly flirted with Eagen before Andy's weak genes told; typical Welshman; dreams of sheep, ends up sh*gging a calf.
The mentally frail Dyson senior was so overjoyed to beat Neil Bear in the 'A's that he failed to notice Davies leave the court halfway through the second game, indifferent and en route (tardy) to the Army v Navy rugby international. I didn't have the heart to tell Sturge and, hey, a win's a win. Paul Boyle humanely did for him in the next round. It's good to see St. John back on court, witlessly trying to perfect that half court cross court half volley winner that he wistfully dreamt of back in the late 80s. 
Keep pulling on the pipe and dream on m'boy...
Elsewhere, the ladies were doing that thing that ladies do on a squash court; lots of 'after you's' and 'oops, sorry's" with the least polite gal invariably winning... 

Irening Machine has helped me to fill in a few of the yawning gaps here:

Ladies competition:

A total of 8 ladies competed in the A and B grade events, both being played as round robins.

The A final was between last years winner Joanne Smalley and teenager Natalie Machin.

Natalie's game proved too hard and fast for Joanne and Natalie emerged as ladies champion.

The B final saw last years winner, Misa Harrop taking on Pauline Richardson.

The close 5 set match provided excellent squash from both ladies with Pauline coming out as the eventual winner.

So, Jo Smalley went down in the ladies final against the Bull's finest; 'Jesus' Machin; Natalie outlasting an injured Jo who was clearly suffering after having previously thrashed it out with the big boys in the 'Mens B'; sometimes spunk just isn't enough... 
Johnny Machin at least offered some cahoonas. He's still a pretty mirthless presence on court but (apparently) it's not all about having a chat and a laugh is it? He was doggedly determined in his Men's 'A' semi against vaguely vapid vet, the vacuous yet venerable Treadwell. Mark seemed to want to be elsewhere (maybe with his hand up some cow's arse); hardly surprising considering the severity with which 'Le Sulk' approached his endevour. Johnny's movement and tenacity has much improved (maybe something to do with chasing all of those reluctant 'Sheilas' around Australian discos) making his ever dependable, occasionally exquisite racket skills more consistent. A couple of rolling nicks saw off Mark's resolve as the youngster dimmed, then extinguished the fading light, putting him comfortably and firmly in his pocket. The final of the Mens 'A' was a different ball game altogether; defending champion Paul Boyle's relentless quality sucked the sap from the sapling; Johnny bent before finally breaking. Paul has the undefinable ability to make the unfathomable seem bleeding obvious; his movement and timing sublime; once he gets to a ball he could peel a banana (and eat it) before deciding on which of 3 or 4 shots to play, making him, essentially... unplayable. You don't need me (or a banana) to tell you of his quality; he's a worthy and (for a Kiwi) humble champion who is a credit to our club. Let's hope that we can keep hold...
Dan wrote his captain's speech whilst marking the Vet's final with me; failing to notice Mark Treadwell capitulating to his shower buddy CK with the lamest of sick notes: "I keep seeing stars" is almost as as lamentable as The Camel's "All at Sea"...
Dan's speech seemed... well, like it was written whilst marking a game of squash; lacking pace, punctuation, form, an average anecdote of past glories; not even a joke or lighthearted aside about Mearsy's new viscose jacket. P*ss poor tumbleweed Dirty. The gallery was relieved to be able to focus on the welcome distraction of the dull, repetitive thud of some lower leaguer trying to warm up a cold ball on court 5.
I gave Dirty the chance to redeem himself, asking him to contribute a few sanguine observations to this missive. His response makes a Nic Manley match report read like Hamelet:
Jumping bean - CG
Never was - TJ
Never there - KM
Has been - DF
Too much viagra - (PCL running around all weekend playing 6 matches)
Too much Red Bull - (John Bullard nearly as spritely as PCL)
Too bright - Gareth + Adams luminous orange shirts
Too much expectation - 8 finals, 3 finished in injuries
Too good - PB
Too fit - JM
Too scary - James Wyatt prospects next year
More like a confused shopping list from a Holmer Green Senior than anything...
He'll be offended of course: "Do you know who I am?"
Ask Matron.
I'll attempt to post the official awards photos later but they seem to have been taken by a monkey and processed by his uncle. Di's currently waving her 'turd polishing wand'... 
Shame as I particularly liked the shot of Koko where it appears that one of the many birds on his extraordinary shirt had dumped on his working boots... I've based my new musical image on Phil and his shirts; I know that it screams 'mid life crisis' but if it sells a few more CDs then it'll be worth the ridicule...
Bravo to all who took part and thanks particularly to our ever cheerful secretary Chris Griffiths and Dirty Dan who managed the whole thing so (seemingly) effortlessly. 
Good luck with Bullard and the 'super sex' next sunday morning Chris; don't forget to liquidize; his teeth aren't what they once were... Shergar's I believe.
Meanwhile my gaze has drifted once more to the trophy box and the names preserved for posterity on the walls of our fine club and I'm thinking to myself, "how the hell did Bob Heard get up there?"

Club Championships: Captain's Report

This breathless report just in from Dirty: the goatie's coming on nicely; probably his best feature; definitely better than this one...


The last weekend in April saw over 60 squash players get involved in the annual Beaconsfield Squash Club Championships.
Men's A, B, C Grade , Over 45, Over 55 and Ladies A & B Grade events were fiercely contested over a full weekend of squash testing both nerves and levels of fitness.
The Men's A saw defending champion Paul Boyle see off first time finalist 21year old Johnny Machin, beating him 3-0.
The Ladies A was won for the first time by promising junior Natalie Machin beating 9 time champion Jo Smalley.

Lady Farncombe the Club President presented the prizes to a packed gallery.


Other winners were:
Men's A Plate
Winner - Chris Gildersleve
Runner up - Andy Egan

Mens B
Winner - Philip Courtenay-Luck
Runner up - John Bullard

Mens C
Winner - Mike Atkinson
Runner up - Andy Purnell

Over 45
Winner - CK Foo
Runner up - Mark Treadwell

Over 55
Winner - Phil Alexander
Runner up - Philip Courtenay-Luck

Ladies B
Winner - Pauline Richardson
Runner up - Misha Harrop

Club Championships 2012

Club captain 'Dirty' Dan Fernandez has made the draw for the 'Veterans' (over 45s) and 'Vintage' (over 55s) tournaments.
The Vet's throw up the following conflicts; I've included my predictions...

Top Half

7.10pm 25/4: Treadwell v PCL: Courtney luck will be sanguinely sipping his 'Appletise' after 20 mirthless minutes.

7.50pm 25/4 Hugh Chamberlaine v The Camel: Who's Hugh? Got to plump for the Bull's kipper.

7pm 25/4: Chris Gildersleve v Andy Purnell: Chrisy G at a stroll.

7.50pm 26/4: Mike Chapples v Dirty: There could be blood on the walls... Dirty violated but victorious.

Bottom Half

7.40 25/4: 'Not So' v Jan Grzyb: Jan unknown to me; he'll need to find form (and a vowel or two) to compete with Nic.

8.20 25/4: Nigel Guild v Neil Davies: Neil in beastly form, relentlessly forsakes good cheer and charity in search of a first team place. Not a lot of laughs for Nigel then...

6.30pm 26/4: Speaking of laughs; I sniff a whiff of manipulation here...
Moi v Napoleon: Mmm, Mears good in competition; me famously lightweight; lacking in large ones by all accounts. I'll plump for Mr Plump but you never know...

8.20pm 26/4: Andy Gallagher v CK: A waltz for the Foo Fighter.

The Vintage tournament throws up (an apt phrase) only four contenders; 3 'no-hopers' and one cert.
This will be run as a round robin with the the following match ups (bring a book to read):

27/4 PCL v Koko (7pm to @7.15pm) & Bob v Bullard (7.40pm)
28/4 Koko v Bullard (12.10pm to @12.15pm) & Bob v PCL (1pm)
29/4 PCL v Bullard (4.20pm) & Koko v Bob (5pm to @5.10pm)

Club Championships 2012

So the club championships start next weekend?
Whoop-di-bloody-doo...
I love them of course but I'm having trouble bigging myself up for the occasion. 
You see, I've always thought that I was in for a shout; but I'm starting to realise that, as well as never opening the batting for England or shagging that bird in 'Emmanuelle 2', I haven't got a hope in hell. I've "lost my Mojo" according to Napoleon...
Still, standing at the bar on any given evening, I'm always reminded that 'there's no fool like an old fool'.
Maybe if Atko lends me some of his Viagra I might stiffen my resolve.
Meanwhile, I found this review of the Club Championships from 2009.
See if this inspires, or at least puts lead in your pencil...
Good luck to all.

Beaconsfield  Squash Championships 2009

As the marker called a ‘foot fault’ at a pivotal point in my tight quarter final against defending champion Charlie Wyatt, I was reminded of the words of the great Bill Shankley: 
“The trouble with referees is that they know the rules, but they do not know the game.” 
There had been hope in my heart and dreams in my head, but my concentration evaporated. 
The game was lost. 
All quality sportsmen will attest to the fact that results are often decided by one defining moment. 
There were many such moments in this year’s club championships. 
At the sharp end of the Men's ‘A’s, club captain Kevin ‘Napoleon’ Mears had decided to make a dog’s dinner of the event by ranking only the top four seeds, thereby throwing the rest of us to the wolves. Hazard would rule the day. Bribes would be offered and taken. Charlie ‘Club Cramp’ Wyatt would be top dog, followed by dog’s doctor, Mark ‘The Vet’ Treadwell.  At ‘3’ would be the proverbial ‘dog’s’, ‘Dirty’ Dan Fernandez, with a rabid Nic ‘Not So’ Manley, a controversial but doggedly determined 4^thseed.  
A dogfight ensued with some great and brief encounters. 
On the way to the final, reputations were challenged and made, hearts were broken. 
The 'A' final was to be an inevitable rematch of last year’s feisty semi; Wyatt v Fernadez. 
Having played a tough semi final with Treadwell early in the day, Dan’s endurance would be put to the test as Charlie hadn’t dropped a game en route and was relatively fresh. “Squash is boxing with racquets” said Jonah Barrington. Could ‘Dirty’ Dan rattle Charlie’s cage again? Sport doesn’t build character, it reveals it and Charlie was indeed a revelation. Dan dug in, producing some cracking shots; all were retrieved with consummate ease and, after 45 minutes of brave struggle, Fernandez eventually succumbed to the tenacious teenager (3-0). “Pain heals, chicks dig scars, glory lasts forever” said Charlie afterwards, whilst a panting Dan, sanguine in defeat, could only offer “Squash is ninety percent mental. The other half is physical.” 
Meanwhile, on an adjacent court Oliver Reeves and Andy Egan were producing the year’s best final in the Men’s ‘B’s. Oliver’s talent is as substantial as his rear end, but could Andy, whose groin was restricting his movement, get around this obstacle? With Andy’s groin up against Ollie’s butt there could only be one outcome: 3-2 to Reeves.

Earlier in the evening burly Tim Westall had proven just too strong for a punchy Paul Haley in the final of the ‘C’s, whilst in the ‘Plate’ Captain Kev fell 3-1 to the sleeping giant that is Stefan Lubek. 
To disprove Emerson’s observation that “Sport is the bloom and glow of perfect health”, Chez Bhola had a stroll in the park (3-0) against his nemesis ‘Mad Dog’ Whitaker in the Vintage, whilst Treadwell,‘The Vet’ won the ‘Vet’s’ with a walkover against a crocked CK ’rocked’ Foo.

“If the Bible has taught us nothing else, and it hasn't, it's that girls should stick to girls' sports, such as hot oil wrestling, foxy boxing, and such and such.”  
Homer Simpson would be forced to eat those famous words if he had of witnessed the dynamic duel between defending champion Jo Smalley and newcomer Sam Mueller in the Ladies A final. Sam obviously went to the ‘Phil Payne School for Time Keeping’ and was accordingly penalized by 'Dave the Marker' for her tardiness between games, but the partisan crowd was eventually won over by her desire and commitment. This was a cracking clash, Jo’s guile and skill eventually overcoming Sam’s dynamism.

In a more genteel encounter, and whilst I parked her car for her, Avril Blanchot overcame Misa Harrup 3-2 in the Ladies B.

Observed by a packed gallery our proud sponsor ‘Ravishing’ Roger Taylor of 'The Geek Squad' and ‘Carphone Warehouse’ handed out the trophies and observed, “Great sport has intellectual beauty and squash is more than just a sport. It's an art, like the ballet. Or like a performance in the theater. When I step on the court I feel like Anna Pavlova. Or like Adelina Patti. Or even like Sarah Bernhardt. I see the footlights in front of me. I hear the whisperings of the audience. I feel an icy shudder. Win or die! Now or never! It's the crisis of my life.” 
There was a stunned silence followed by a mad dash for the bar where sorrows were drowned and hopes and dreams for next years’ championships were toasted.

Eyeing up Pauline behind the bar, Bar Steward Allan Barlow observed:

“After all that, sex would be an anti-climax!”