Shouting from the Hop

The long drawn out summer in the Pedro45 household has come to an end, and I have to return to work tomorrow. I don't really want to, but bills have to be paid, Xmas is coming, and I want to go on holiday. All that means that I need some dosh to fulfill the above without dipping into my savings too much more.

The job could be fun - it's a consultancy-type role for three months finishing near the end of February. I turned down a "proper" job at the place I will be working, but they could see my value and worth and offered me a three-month stint in an effort to sort them out and provide support while going through a tough time internally. The management who interviewed me were very nice people and it will be nice to (hopefully) make some new friends and acquantances in a new workplace.

I don't have to be there till 9.30 tomorrow, so that my manager has time to get in herself and get ready for me. It will be interesting to see how the other staff treat me, and what they have already been told about my role. I have an induction day and tour of the distribution warehouse on Thursday which will be fun too!

Hopefully, there will be a few who go down the pub after work occasionally, and that may also mean the odd Christmas do that I can swan along to and join in with. I've missed that sort of comaraderie over the last year. It'll mean fewer trips to the gym unfortunately, as the two are not very local to each other, though I'll try to pop over at least once a week after work when I can.

When the three months are up, I leave work on the Friday and fly off on holiday with my girlfriend on the Saturday, to the island of Dominica in the Caribbean. We talked long and hard about going to St Maarten/St Martin, but couldn't find a hotel that we both liked, so switched our attention to other islands and found an old fort that is now a hotel in the Dominica capital Roseau. It's not that big a hotel, but sounds quite nice. Dominica is an unusual Caribbean island, according to the guidebooks, in that the beaches don't sound very nice (lots of volcanic black sand, and none near to our hotel), but it has lots of hiking trails up to the mountains leading to wondrous waterfalls and lakes. It has one of the wonders of the Caribbean in a Boiling Lake, and also a beach area called Champagne Beach where the water bubbles like champagne! Both due to volcanic activity. Can't wait!

All the above means that my postings on here (and on Charlton Athletic Online) will probably be less frequent unfortunately. I'll try to keep things going as best I can, and will definitely say something should the need to arise, but you know how it is trying to fit things in with the rest of your ongoing life...

I've had a great summer blogging - The Ashes, holidays, recounting stories of former lives and bringing back many happy memories and a few bad ones too! I will definitely continue, as it is great fun. Take care! x

England almost fell to defeat in the second test against Pakistan which finished today. Set 285 to win (after man of the match Inzamam's second hundred of the match) in about 45-50 overs (before bad light would finish play), they collapsed to 20-4, before rallying to finish the game on 164-6. Trescothick, Strauss, and Bell all got ducks, while captain Vaughan scored just 9 runs in this innings (making it 11 for the match).

England were saved by Pieterson (42) and Flintoff (56), who rallied the score to over a hundred, and then Jones (30 n.o.), who batted very sensibly toward the end.

With one test to go and Pakistan 1-0 up, the series cannot now be won, ending a run of six consecutive series wins by England.

Andy Strauss will miss the third test, as he is flying home tomorrow for the birth of his first child. Shahid Afridi will be banned for the next test too, following his own scrape on the pitch on Monday.

It's tough to see how England can drag the win they need to draw the series from the next game in Lahore; with (probably) Collingwood brought into the team to replace Strauss, the batting is weakened further, and the side looks even more fragile. Unless we see some heroics from both batsmen and bowlers, I predict either a draw or another defeat sadly.

Brian Brownell
"My father knew Brian B". That was the saying on one of the badges that we had made, and various staff members used to wear them around the office (it wasn't cool enough to wear it outside of work...).

Brian Brownell, or Brian B as he was known to one and all, used to sell advertising on the NME Live! ads pages for about five or six years, in the late seventies and early eighties. A tall bearded man, with a crook nose, and long wavy brown hair, he wasn't that dashing or suave, but he always wore a suit to work. I don't know why? Maybe more casual clothes wouldn't have suited him any better...

Brian became an semi-icon at the NME. He had his own advertising pages - the live ads pages - and whenever there was a space to fill that we hadn't been able to put a paid-for advert in, we would put a filler ad bearing Brian B's name and contact details in there. In the late seventies, we carried quite a lot of filler adverts! Brian therefore became a victim of his own un-success, and me and my colleagues Frank and Mike took full advantage, building his persona up to megastar status. The pic here shows another badge we had made, alluding to the fact that Brian may have had a fan club! Frank was a bit of an aspiring artist, and he drew a comic strip that featured Brian, which we printed at the top of the Live! Ads pages, bringing the anti-hero to life even more. The trouble was, Brian believed all the hype that we fed him, and became paranoid if we were (or were not) talking about him! I never really knew the real Brian, if there was one - I don't think anyone did in truth...

Brian was an East End boy, who lived with his mum and dad in Canning Town. He used to go to the Bridgehouse, a local pub that had bands on most nights, to see his mates and the local groups that would play; occasionally, they had someone who was slightly more well known outside of the East End and he would be in his element, what with working for NME and powerful enough to give away free advertising!

Brian had his favourites - The Warm Jets were one band, Spider another, and Iron Maiden another of the groups he'd go to see at every opportunity, well before they became famous and heavy metal au fait.

Brian also liked speedway, and would go along to Walthamstow, Wimbledon, and other London tracks to see live action whenever he could - it was his incognito time I think.

Brian liked a beer or two, or ten actually! He would drink most days; at lunchtime he would be down the pub for a couple, and after work he would also drink either locally to work or back at one of his local drinking dens if he wasn't out seeing a band somewhere.

He told a story once about how he was in a hotel somewhere - on holiday in Cornwall I think - having drunk quite a lot (which meant over ten pints to Brian...), when he woke up needing to go to the loo. He described in intimate detail how he walked to the bathroom, did what he needed to and went back to bed. In the morning, he got up, washed, went to put on the ubiquitous suit from the wardrobe, and found it to be soaking wet. He had proceeded to urinate over it during the night. He argued that it must have been ghosts or something similar, but deep down he knew that we knew what had happened!

And that was Brian's problem really - he always knew that we knew the real deal with him, whatever way he tried to package things up, we always saw through his wrapping.

He used to hate people standing behind him, claiming that they were breathing on his wavy hair. Of course, being the mickey taking guys we were, we did that on purpose, because we knew it wound him up. We wore the badges; we mimicked his sayings - he had a special way of saying the names of bands he liked; Iyon Maaayden for instance - and actions - he waved his hands about quite a lot in strange circular motions.

Brian was well hung but impotent, though he claimed that he knew how to satisfy women in other ways...the only woman that I knew he got close to was someone equally hairy called Mary. I don't know what he tried with her but from the fact that the relationship lasted precisely one night and she treated him disdainfully forevermore afterwards meant that she probably wasn't fully satisfied that evening!

Brian eventually left NME in the early eighties, and went seeking his fortune elsewhere. The last time we met was when Mike Procter returned to London from Bristol for a football match (Arsenal versus Villa - 2-0) at Highbury, and we (Mike, Me, Frank, and Brian) all met up in a North London pub for a few beers beforehand. Brian had changed; he was even more paranoid, and for some completely unknown reason (believe me, if I knew I would say now...) he took offence at my presence and threw his pint of beer in my face without warning. I really didn't know why he did it. We had not been taking the mickey at all; he just lost the plot a bit I think.

I never saw Brian again after that event.

He died a couple of years later from complete organ failure, the result of drinking whole bottles of vodka and the like each night once he'd got home from the pub, alone.

Brian was an icon that some of us helped to create, and probably helped destroy. As newspapers do these days, you can build and build people up, and once they believe they are at the top, it is easy to bring them crashing down once more, way below where they ever were before.

The second test will go into its last day tomorrow with all three results possible; Pakistan are nearly 200 in front, but with just four wickets remaining. If England can roll the last few over quickly, then they have a real possibility of chasing the required winning total.

This test has had lots of controversy: Afridi has been duly punished with a ban from the next test and two ODI's for his pirhouette on the pitch after the gas tank exploded on Monday. Kaneria was warned twice for running on the pitch while bowling, and Pakistan have been warned twice for running on the pitch while batting! One more offence, and England will have five penalty runs added to their first innings score!

Flintoff has bowled magnificently, taking three of the six wickets to fall so far in the second innings, including two in consecutive balls (see Flintoff bowling Afridi pic), and giving him twelve in the series. Pieterson and Bell both made good centuries in the English innings.

Hopefully, the lads can pull off the win, though it will be tough to get the last four wickets (one of which is Inzamam) and then knock off the runs without losing wickets. My money is still on the draw...

England will do well to save themselves from defeat in the second test match versus Pakistan in Faisalabad over the next few days.

The game so far has been full of controversy, and excitement, so far. Pakistan decided to leave out suspect pace bowler Shabbir, and England had Michael Vaughan back from injury and Marcus Trescothick available

Day one saw three early wickets for the England pace bowlers, then a solid hundred run partnership between Haq and Yousef. A debatable caught and bowled brought Afridi to the wicket, and he and Haq put on another hundred plus runs at very fast pace. Pakistan finished day one at 300-4.

On the second day, Haq completed his hundred, and the partnership continued until Afridi was caught (very) low down at slip by Trescothick. Haq then fell run out to a poor (third) umpiring decision when bowler Harmison threw down the stumps following through, with Haq taking evasive action (see pic). It was questionable whether his back foot was down, but what was not in doubt was that he was not trying to run and was avoiding injury. He should not have been given out, but the local third umpire thought different.

Pakistan finally holed out for 462, with fourteen sixes being hit in the innings (six by Afridi). England then lost Strauss, played on, for 12, and Vaughan (yorked) for 2 to slum to 33-2.

An almighty bang on the boundary edge caused lots of concern and a break in play, but it proved to be a soft drinks machines gas cylinder exploding that was the cause. This event though will make the front pages tomorrow; not because it seemed it might have been a bomb, but because while the players, umpires and police were assessing the situation, a Pakistan player (thought to be Afridi) proceeded to scuff up the pitch by spinning his boot onto a spinners length at both ends. This was plainly obvious to see on TV. Luckily, umpire Darryl Hair also noticed the damage, and spoke to the Pakistan captain about it. I sincerely hope that the player responsible is banned from several test matches for this blatant attempt at cheating.

Trescothick then fell caught behind to another low catch that the umpires had to check carried.

Bell and Pieterson survived to end the day at 113-3.

It will be tough for England to save the game, and even hard to save the follow on. The series win would appear to be already out of their grasp, and if they lose here, it will be lost too.

I noticed the England team took the field wearing black armbands today, but it wasn't until I read the ECB website that I found out why.

I knew Robert Padmore from way back in the early nineties; he was probably on my first tour to Australia in 1991.

I have to be upfront and say I never liked him. He was arrogant, and obnoxious on occasions. He certainly toured the West Indies in 1994, where we had a bit of an argument borne out of jealousy. Drunk, he basically wanted to know why I had made friends with certain tourists when he couldn't, so he became abusive.

We always passed pleasantries after that, but no more. We would meet at reunion dinners, and then on the next tour; he was in Perth during 2002, the last time I went away with England.

A man driven to excess, it doesn't surprise me that he died in a bar. When you think about it, there isn't much else to do in Pakistan in the evening...

My heart actually goes out to those in the same tour group who are touring with him - in 1998 I was part of a tour of Guyana where one person died and that takes a lot of enjoyment out of the trip.

This news follows on from the death two weeks ago of Dave Thomas, another long time England tourist, also from a suspected heart attack. Dave had booked his Pakistan trip, but never made it to the airport unfortunately. Dave roomed with a good friend of mine many timess during tours abroad.

Sad news.

There were quite a few girls that worked in the editorial reception and admin areas while I was at NME. Some of their names I no longer recall, but most of them were there for a few years so I do remember them - in no particular order: Fiona Foulger, Margaret, Cathy Bartlett/Kate Wills, Kathy Kelly, Julia "Spud" Murphy.

Fiona Foulger was a lovely, single, woman, with red curly hair and a real northern twang to her voice. I think she was from the top end of Lancashire, but I stand corrected. She was fun to talk to but we didn't have too much in common, and she was always the elder stateswoman at NME that people looked to for advice if they needed help. She could dismiss people with just a glance, and a mumble if she didn't like what they were doing or said. She worked in the editorial offices throughout my time at NME, and on Friday lunchtimes used to drink in a pub in Kingly Street, just around the corner from the Carnaby Street offices, with other old stagers from the office. The last time I spoke with her was around 1993 when I needed to dispose of stacks of old NME papers from the late 70's and early 80's that I’d stored at my parents house. Fiona arranged for a van to pick them up so they could be used to replace the dismembered NME archives. I believe that she died about ten years ago from breast cancer, which is a real shame.

Margaret was a strange one; she was very shy but had, by all accounts, a bit of a screw loose. One day, when up in Kettering to pass the paper for press, Monty Smith told me that he'd seen Margaret staring out of the third floor Carnaby Street offices windows a couple of days beforehand. She was crying. Being a nice guy, Monty asked her if she was OK and what the matter was? Margaret replied that she was crying because "it was raining"! Thank god we aren't all like that, as the whole population of London would be in floods of tears most days! One other time, Margaret needed a few days off work sick because she had slipped/fallen underneath the slam-door train at London Bridge mainline station on her way home. She said that she was petrified that the train would pull away with her being dragged along underneath, but of course that never happened; a platform guard helped lift her up off the tracks, as no other passengers came to her aid. How she got under it we'll never know. She left NME in about 1984 and I've never heard anything about her since.

Cathy Bartlett I knew from her time in Kings Reach Tower when she was a sweet, but not so innocent, seventeen year old. A very attractive blonde Essex girl with a very sexy laugh, she worked on Titbits magazine (who's office was on the 25th floor next door to NME ad sales) as the office junior, before eventually getting a minor telephone sales role. This didn't work out so she went back to secretarial duties after getting transferred over to NME Editorial, thanks in part to yours truly! By now, I think she was married to her childhood sweetheart; I don't recall his first name but his surname was Wills. Our Cathy therefore became Catherine Wills! Well, she was a cracker! The lure of fame however meant that her marriage didn't last, and she split from her husband after just a year or two. I took her out a few times, including to see Siouxsie and the Banshees on my birthday, when I had ten tickets and a whole gang of us (including Gary Crowley, Tony O, and Wendy Baker) went along to a great night at Hammersmith Palais. Cathy, or Kate as she became known at NME - so as not to get confused with Kathy Kelly - loved it at NME; she turned into a bit of a rock-chick, and all the writers drooled over her. While I was in the car one day talking with Tony Stewart, he started to salivate over her, saying how gorgeous she was, and refused to believe me when I told him I'd taken her out a few times - getting the Kate he was talking about and the Cathy I kept referring to (one and the same person) confused. She ended up really good mates with Wendy, and the Baker household superstardom-lifestyle suited her down to the ground. Eventually, she met a man in the music business who fulfilled her dreams, and she was soon pregnant. She spent less and less time in the office while "in the club", and left to look after baby once it arrived and became a kept woman. I met her once after she had left, when she visited Kings Reach with Wendy and babe, but she was a bit flighty then, and not the teenager that I'd help mentor. She probably has two or three kids now, and lives in a mansion in Berkshire with her ex-rock star hubby!

Kathy Kelly had a bit of history about her! An Aussie, she worked for QANTAS as a stewardess in her younger days. On arrival in the UK, she got the job of Editor's secretary at NME, working for Nick Logan and Neil Spencer during my time. She was quite forward and had a one night stand with my colleague Frank that was all her own making. She married a Swiss guy eventually, but it wasn't a conventional marriage arrangement. As far as I'm aware, her visa started to run out, and she needed to get married in order to be allowed to stay in England, so she chose this Swiss guy who was a friend of a friend (mad Texan Barbara Fry, who worked in PR and was always hanging around the NME offices). Kathy moved over to Kings Reach Tower in 1988 with the rest of the NME editorial staff, but was soon off sick. She claimed, and as her union rep I argued on her behalf, that the air conditioning was making her ill - sick building syndrome - and she had a doctor's certificate to back it up. IPC would not accept this diagnosis though, fearing that, if successful, many more staff would use it to escape the 32 storey concrete monstrosity. Eventually, I negotiated a settlement with the HR people on Kathy's behalf, but not before IPC stopped her salary, threatened to sack her, and the occupational health people had had their say.

Julia Murphy was a lovely, nice, Irish girl, who worked on the reception desk for about four years after Danny Baker and Gary Crowley had moved on to bigger and better things. Whether the editor (Neil Spencer) thought that Spud would turn into another writer/DJ I do not know, but it seemed far from her mind or intention. Julia had a couple of long relationships while at NME; the first with NME writer Angus McKinnon, whom she doted on. They were a very nice couple and I don't really know why they didn't stay together, unless it was Angus being commitment-phobic. Even after they had split, Julia had trouble being in a room with him, as it made her so upset to think what might have been. Her second long relationship was with a guy called Kevin (Mitchell?). Once more, they made a good couple but had relationship troubles that they struggled to work through. Julia was good fun, and would come down the pub whenever she could. She was always messing around with Tony O, and they were forever taking the mickey out of each other. One evening, Tony and I persuaded Julia to come along to Wembley Arena with us to see some professional wrestling! This is the one and only time I've been to something like that, as wrestling in those days used to stay in the north of the country mainly, and almost never came to London. I had read that Big Daddy was taking on Giant Haystacks (see pic) and talked Tony O into going. We then dragged Julia into the pub for a couple and reached an agreement whereby she would come along if Tony drove (we had intended to go on the tube). Without another option, we walked down to Covent Garden to get Tony's Fiesta and drove through the rush hour traffic to Wembley. The evening was mainly about supporting bouts and quaffing beer; a couple of (long, boring) World title fights took place, including one with the manic Rollerball Rocco, before the main event. After much fanfare, it was all over in ninety seconds, making the £10 entry fee expensive! Haystacks and Daddy did a bit of posing, arm grappling, then parted. Daddy tried his stomach-bounce/splash thing which pushed Haystacks back into his own corner. Daddy then took a run in order to crush Haystacks in the corner of the ring, but bounced off, falling to the floor. However, before Haystacks could react, the momentum of the impact forced his feet to slip on water residue on the canvas floor, and he slipped, falling over the top rope and down on to the arena floor. Of course, the crowd went wild, cheering and laughing, until they realized that this 30 stone man was unable to get to his feet un-aided, let alone make it back into the ring within ten seconds! The count arrived at ten, and it was all over. Big Daddy the victor, but only by a kind of unfair default. Julia eventually left NME in 1984, when the offices moved to Commonwealth House and a receptionist was no longer necessary, and went to work for the Evening Standard selling classified advertising and managing the sales reps. I would walk down to Fleet Street to meet her for a pub lunch in the Old Lud at Ludgate Circus on quite a few occasions. On one occasion, she turned up without her front teeth! She had been running for a bus a few days earlier, but had tripped in the road, and knocked them both clean out, cutting her top lip badly in the process! Her dentist was not amused, and neither was she, as she had an almost perfect set of pearly whites… Julia then got a job working at The Mirror but, although she did a great job by all accounts, was personally sacked by Robert Maxwell. She said he was quite nice about it, but wouldn't be talked out of his decision, though she did try. I've lost contact with Julia since then, but hope very much that she is happy and content, and that her false teeth aren't giving her too much trouble now she's a little bit older!

News has broken today that two of the Pakistan bowlers in the winning team from the first test have had their bowling actions reported to the ICC by the umpires and match referee.

In both cases, this is the second time these players - Shabbir Ahmed (top) and Shoaib Malik (left) - have been reported for suspect actions. The full story is here.

This does not affect the result in any way unfortunately, nor does it call into question the players availability for the next two tests and five ODI's of this England tour. What it does mean is that the players are more likely to be called for throwing by the umpires during the next matches, if they repeat their suspect bowling.

Having watched about half of this test, and others involving bowlers with suspect or corrected actions, I think that the bowlers get away with throwing quite a lot. My own experience at live games has witnessed very dodgy bowling - Mutiah Muralitharan very definetley "chucked" his quicker ball when bowling at the SSC, Columbo, in 1993. Brett Lee was another who appeared to "throw" his effort ball during the Ashes series down under in 2002/3, and Shoib Akhtar has nearly always straightened his arm (due to a distended elbow according to the player) during his time in the Pakistan team over the last few years.

My overall impression of the rule regarding straightening of the arm is that it is not allowed. In club cricket it certainly wouldn't be! However, the ICC has ruled that players can straighten their arms by up to 15 degrees. They agreed to this ruling partly due to the fact that Akhtar (through a loose joint) and Muralitharan (through birth defect) have arms that are or can be bent backwards at the elbow. Both of these players have subsequently been called for throwing by umpires in test matches - Muralitharan famously several times by Umpire Darryl Hair in Australia which caused a minor diplomatic incident. Bowlers nowadays seem to get away with whatever they can, deeming that umpires will be too scared to call them for chucking, and relying on the fact that the worst that can happen is that they will be reported. I'd much rather go back to the umpire being in charge in this area, with them being free to call bowlers for chucking if they suspect the player of breaking the rules at any stage. If an umpire has a doubt about any action or particular ball bowled, the benefit should go toward the batsmen, and not the bowler.

In another development, Marcus Trescothick, who captained England in the first test, may have to return home to England following the news that his father-in-law has fallen from a ladder and is seriously injured. The extent of the injuries are not yet known in the media, but it sounds quite nasty. Tres will make a decision later today after talking to his family on whether to catch the next flight out of Pakistan. If Michael Vaughan is not fit to return to the team on Sunday, and Tres goes home, then England would amazingly be down to their third choice Skipper, probably Freddie Flintoff.

Someone who is going home, almost certainly before the end of the test series, is Andrew Strauss. His wife is due to give birth early in December, and agreement was reached before the players set off that he would be allowed to return home and be present when the baby is born. All attempts to fit this in between the second and third tests will be made, but you cannot rush babies! Strauss's wife is always good TV viewing when her husband gets near a hundred; she seems to mentally play every ball with him, and is a joy to watch when he does finally get to the century mark. In some ways, I hope that his wife goes into labour just after the last plane out has left one night, and that she has a quick and safe birth producing a healthy baby, thereby making it impossible for Strauss to get back to England and be in the labour ward with her. If that is the case, I cannot see the reason for him to return, though I guess that will make me look heartless...

As suspected, Pakistan won the first test this morning, bowling England out for 175 to win by 22 runs. Only once before have England scored over 200 runs in Pakistan to win a game in the fourth innings, so it was no great surprise.

Defending a lead of 198, the pace of Sami, Akhtar, and Shabbir, plus Kaneria's wildly turning leg breaks proved too much for the fragile England batting. Geraint Jones top scored with 33, and Ian Bell weighed in with 31, but it was too little as England collapsed from 64-1 to 117-7. Jones and Udal then added 49 to give the team hope, but Akhtar returned to bowl Jones and end any dreams the side may have had of a famous win.

Overall, the batting line up looks weak without Michael Vaughan in the team; Paul Collingwood (out LBW to Sami above) is not a test match number four, and his run return from this game (just 13) confirms that. Kevin Pieterson (just 24 runs in the game) also needs to start scoring on the pitch rather than with Caprice off it! Andy Strauss (9 and 23) was also short of runs in this game.

On the plus side, Marcus Trescothick got plenty in the first innings, Bell scored well in both innings, Andrew Flintoff got in twice, only to get himself out caught in the deep twice, and Jones chipped in well down the order. The seam bowlers all came out with credit, and the wickets were shared around fairly well; the spinners took just one wicket each in the match, but both looked good and tight in short spells.

Hopefully, Vaughan's knee will have recovered in time for the first days play of the second test at Faisalabad on Sunday; I expect Paul Collingwood to be rested if Vaughan returns to the team.

England will go into the last day of the first test match on 25-1, needing 174 more runs to beat Pakistan.

The game looked to be slowly dragging along until, against commentators advice, Trescothick took the new ball with Pakistan on 263-3. Immediately, Hoggy had Haq LBW and the game turned on it's head. Freddie (left) chipped in with two wickets, Hoggy got another (century maker Salman Butt), then Ashley Giles picked up another thanks to a good sharp catch by Ian Bell. Tinker Harmison claimed the final two, to leave Pakistan 198 ahead. The last seven wickets went down for 75 runs.

Amazingly, Kevin Pieterson took the final catch, his first in test cricket, after dropping six previously!!!

The other main controversy of the day was when the umpires called for the TV replay on consecutive balls, after run out appeals. The first decision saw Haq rightly given in although his bat was temporarily raised over the crease, but the second replay was much closer. Collingwood's return from the deep had Butt scampering the second run; Jones took the ball and in one move had the bails off. It looked initially as if Butt was just out, but the TV umpire Asad Rauf adjudged that the bails were not sufficiently removed to give the decision against the batsmen. Every commentator said that they would have given the decision England's way...

An intriguing final day still to come then; can England get the runs required having already lost Captain Trescothick or will the Pakistan bowlers prevail? It could be tight. I think that if the pitch fails to turn, then England may be OK. If Kaneria gets his leggies to go too, then the pressure on survival at both ends - spin plus the pace of Akhtar and seam of Shabbir - may be too much to handle.

Hopefully, by the time I rise from my slumber tomorrow, there will be good news to be heard on the radio...

It's funny this, here I am writing down some memories from years gone by, and things start to happen.

Blogsites have the ability (through counters) to see where (ie which URL) the visitors to your site have come from previously. This is invaluable if you want a top draw site, as you need to know what searches are giving your site out as an answer.

Since I started publishing my memories of days at NME, a number of searches have shown my mutterings. I have been linked with Danny Baker's web forum, where my story of how he met his first wife has been read my many Bakerite visitors to my site.

I also came up in a search someone made on Ian Penman, and further delving has thrown up the fact that the real Lon-Pin-Moon has his own blogsite - http://www.apawboy.blogspot.com/. If you need your fix of long articles that don't make sense, or not much anyhow, have a read of what Ian is writing today and compare it with those NME articles of former years!

Finally, another search came through on November 7th looking for Mark Woon, who featured in my stories about Danny Baker's wife Wendy, and also Marian Cowler. Now I don't know how many Mark Woon's there can be in this world, but is this person who answered a competition on this website the same guy who was once asked to be Madness's singer?

Last Issues Competition Winners:
(30 August 2001, Ahoy)
(1) School Disco's second Birthday Bash.
Urmee Khan
(2) Transparent Sound
Mark Woon
Albert van Biljon
Qu: What was JAX formerly known as?
Answer: Happy Jacks

Someone else highlighted my stories about Ian Penman and Ian Pye, and placed the link on a reggae forum calling it "Two Ian P's!"

So it seems that some other people out in the wide world are vaguely interested in people and things that I ramble on about, which is quite nice.

Feel free to get in touch and we'll see if we can dish up any more dirt on those blasts from the past if you'd like!

The first test versus Pakistan is going to be a lot tougher to win now than many people thought at the end of day two. Although skipper Banger (left) carried on batting well, eventually falling for a tired 193, the rest of the team got themselves out to a variety of poor shots, and the team totalled 418. This gave England a first innings lead of 144, but positive Pakistani batting had significantly reduced this by end of play on day three.

Pakistan will start tomorrow on 125-2, a deficit of just 19. Should they bat well, they can look forward to a sizeable lead going into the final day, and on this pitch, a lead of anything over 200 may be enough to win the game. Alternatively, a good bowling display may leave England needing just a 100 or so to take the lead in the series.

By the time I rise from my bed tomorrow morning and turn on the TV, I'll have a clearer idea of what is going to happen.

One thing I did learn today was two new nicknames within the England camp, courtesy of David Lloyd: Tinker is the new name for, not Ian Bell but Steve Harmison, after the character in Lovejoy (he has brought the whole series with him on DVD to watch while on tour...); and Twiggy, which is Freddie Flintoff's new monicker for some reason (possibly because he is so much skinnier now than he was on his last tour of the sub-continent three years ago!). Young boys and their name calling...

My predictions are seriously flawed it seems whenever published on this site, so I'll predict that Pakistan will get well clear and cause a major upset in this test. Hopefully, that will be enough to see Twiggy, Tinker, Hoggy, Ash and Shaunny take the remaining eight wickets and an England win.

It's been pretty hectic in the Pedro45 household this weekend so far - trying to fit in all the usual weekend duties while catching the multitude of sporting offerings on TV whenever I can.

First up yesterday afternoon were England's Rugby Union guys, who hammered Australia 26-16; a much more comfortable win than the score suggests. Then the Rugby League guys, Great Britain this time, beat up on the New Zealand team, 38-12. That gives them a chance to make the Tri-Nations final if they beat the Aussies by three points next weekend.

Between the rugby codes, we had Englands footballers taking on Argentina in a friendly in Geneva (for some reason...). The lads won 3-2 in one of the best friendly international matches I've ever seen - goals, shots, passion, commitment, and Peter Crouch! Behind twice, goals from Wayne Rooney (seen top, hitting the post) and then Michael Owen dragged England level very late in the game. Owen then popped up with the winner well into injury time to secure an unlikely victory! Charlton's Luke Young played 80 minutes, before being subbed as Sven tried to salvage a result (which worked for a change!).

The morning entertainment had been provided by Englands cricket team, playing the first test against Pakistan in Multan. I missed the early stuff (due to the 5am start UK time) but watched as the bowlers dragged the game back Englands way - Flintoff and Harmison excellent. At 244-6, Marcus Trescothick can be very pleased with his latest first day as England's stand-in captain.
This morning, things got better for Banger and the lads - The seam bowlers rolled the Pakistan tail over inside an hour and then Tres (left) batted all the rest of the day making well over 100, as the team got with 20-odd of the Pakistan total of 274, and with just three wickets lost. If they push on, continuing to bat sensibly, then this will be a game that they should very much win.

As this house will have workmen arriving early for the next few mornings, I'll be up at the crack of dawn and turning on the TV to see England try to take a one nil lead in the series.

Then on Tuesday night, it remains to be seen if Charlton's two young England soccer players - Darren Bent and Darren Ambrose can help the Under 21's past their French counterparts to secure a place in the mini-World Cup. The first leg finished 1-1 on Friday night, with Ambrose scoring a late equaliser.

Busy times for sport on TV; now I better go placate my girlfriend...

It is two months since England regained the Ashes after drawing the final test match against Australia, and now it's time to start playing again. The team is on tour to Pakistan before Xmas, playing three test matches, and then five ODI's. The first test starts tomorrow morning in Multan.

Both of the warm-up games have seen swinging pitches, resulting in low scoring matches; England winning the first against a President's XI, before losing against Pakistan A. The test match pitch in Multan is thought to be more likely to spin than swing though.

England's preparations have been hurt by the news that Captain Michael Vaughan has twisted his knee, and he will miss this test at least. Marcus Trescothick will captain the team in Vaughan's absence and Ian Bell will retain his place having thought to be out of the team. Kevin Pieterson and Paul Collingwood will make up the rest of the rather fragile looking batting line up, with all-rounder Andrew Flitoff at six and keeper Geraint Jones at seven. England will probably play two spinners, and that means a test debut for Shuan Udal at the age of 37 alongside Ashley Giles. I toured Australia with Udal in 1994/5, and he hardly got an up-coutry game let alone a test match, so it's good to see him capped finally. Opening bowlers Matthew Hoggard and Steve Harmison make up the eleven, and both will have crucial jobs to do.

I think this will be a very tough match for England; the two poor warm-up matches have not endeared any confidence (though Pieterson is never without it!) and I think this is a game that could easily be lost if players do not perform. Do not be surprised to see pitches that give the (probably spin) bowlers a chance, as three draws will not help cricket in this part of the world.

My hope is that Banger wins the toss and bats, then they openers survive the new ball, and can set about laying a good foundation for the rest of the match. If Pakistan are allowed early wickets or too many easy runs early on, then this game will slip away very quickly and the series will be very difficult to retrieve.

There have now been ten consecutive nights of rioting in Paris and other French metropolitan towns and cities, following the death of two youths who were killed hiding in an electrical sub-power station. The real reason these youngsters died has yet to come out; the local immigrant population think they were being chased by police, and how they were electricuted hiding has also yet to come to light (although it seems a dumb place to hide!).

The issue raises many questions, and not many answers, about what is becoming of society, not just in France, but in Europe generally, and also other areas of the World.

Huge amounts of immigrants, mainly from Africa, have been thrown together in so-called slum or ghetto areas just outside major cities. These areas have little in the way of employment, services, or hope, and have thus become enclaves where mob-rule reigns. Gangs roam and even the safety of the police, let alone the local populace, when entering the zone is doubtful.

European countries have struggled to come to terms with large numbers of immigrants, and now that second and third generations are living in the same slum areas, rebellion is high on the agenda. In some cases, the countries themselves cannot be held totally to blame; we have all heard the stories of how major cities streets are apparently lined with gold, yet the reality is hugely different. When someone new from Africa, eastern Europe, or the far east enters Britain, certain things, housing and benefits to the fore, are apparently deserved by right and given. It is sometimes forgotten that the standard of living enjoyed by Britons has been earnt over many years, and has not just landed in our laps unwarranted. This creates resentment among local indigenous populations.

Major cities are also very espensive places to live, and while the (usually illegal) street traders may earn a better trade on their streets, I wonder if a better living could be earnt where it is not so expensive to live. I guess the problem there is that any (illegal) immigrant would stand out if placed into a small town and be more liable to prosecution and deportation.

So what of France recently? The authorities are trying to deal with the matter by arresting everyone hoping that this will erradicate the problem. Surely, as in Britain, the perpetrators of the carnage would be back on the streets within days if not hours. Certainly in Britian, anyone arrested would argue a minor charge and be let off with a warning, fine, or minimum jail sentence, free to return to their confrontaion with the police once more.

Last night, the rioting spread to more French cities, and even close to the heart of Paris itself (previously, Parisien trouble was confined to the remote suburbs). Will this escalate further? Maybe. Maybe not. Saturday night is alright for fighting but Sunday is a day of worship for many (and there's school the next day...). It won't go away quickly though unless some kind of compromise is reached between local heirarchy (if there is any) and the police/politicians.

The whole world is in trouble at the moment - poverty, immigration, global warming, terrorism, war, bird flu, lack of respect for others, binge drinking, that huge asteroid heading for earth that will obliterate all life; all major, major issues amongst many other minor ones. The problem with these issues is that I do not have confidence that the leading politicians are the right people to be in charge when the time comes to deal with these matters one by one. And nor do many other humans throughout the world.

So what to do? Do we follow the anarchy route that the French seem to be taking at this time? As The Redskins sang - "What's the point of having a revolution unless you shoot the bastards afterwards?"

Tracy Bennett
Tracy was the advert managers secretary during her time at NME in the early eighties, and should not be confused with the soap actress of the same name. She lived in Albany Park, Sidcup, not too far from me, and was really good fun.
Her main claim to fame - pre-NME - was that her picture featured on the inside cover of the first Madness album; fans of the band had been asked to send in images of themselves, and Tracy did so. She was quite shocked I think when it made it into print (see left), and one day while working at NME this fact slipped out during conversation. She then struggled to live down the repercussions mainly due to the funny face she was pulling in the image...

Tracy loved going to gigs, and as I was a constant supply of entry, we went to see quite a few bands together, sometimes along with others. Tracy was good friends at NME with Jilly Horne, Karla Faerber, and others, and the three women (Tracy, Jilly, and Karla) could cause havoc in the office if they started giggling!

One of the funniest nights out I had with Tracy was on the occasion of one of my (many) birthdays I think; a whole bunch of us had been out to see a band (Guns for Hire I think, who were a pre-curser to Department S) at a small venue somewhere in the Soho area. On our fairly drunken walk (or stumble more like...) back afterwards towards Charing Cross, we were walking through Newport Passage, just behind London's Chinatown, where we came across, among all the rubbish bags, a deflated but still round football. It sat there, in full view as we slowly approached it, waiting, and then Tracy made her move; she ran toward it and swung her leg in an attempt to kick it very hard but proceeded to miss completely. A total air shot! The momentum of her swinging leg swung her off balance, up into the air, before coming back down to earth on top of the black rubbish bags. She creased up in laughter, as did all of the rest of us! It was hilarious (maybe you had to be there...). We then dribbled and passed the ball through the back streets until it got run over by a black cab and was no more round...

Tracy and some friends also came over to my house for cocktail drinks one night and to watch videos. I had put together a music video containing lots of stuff I liked that had been on TV over the previous couple of years, including a few of David Bowie's videos that breakfast TV had been showing, on consecutive mornings at 7.55am, around that time. Included in this music collection, was the banned China Girl video which featured the Beckenham boy sploshing around in the surf with a semi-naked Asian lady, who continued to lose her clothes as the video progressed - all a bit too much for Breakfast time TV but it had been shown late one night where I had added it to my tape. Tracy, her best mate Lorraine, and a male friend arrived and we got stuck in to beers, before hitting the cocktails in a major way, all the time watching this three hour tape. I made myself one of my "special" drinks - based on one called Apres Ski served in the Studio Six bar near Kings Reach - which consisted of vodka, tequila, pernod, orange squash, and lemonade. Yes, I know! I drank this, but soon found myself in the bathroom being sick! I wasn't normally sick from drink (or not too often except when I'd had a lot more than I had this particular night), and I didn't feel bad at all, but here I was driving the porcelain bus! Tracy called out to ask if I was OK, and I replied that I was, but the night sort of came to an early end after that.

On another occasion, it was Tracy who messed up around my house; once more we'd been out to see a band, and this time it had been very late by the time we got back to my place - we'd probably caught the last train home. My house-mate, Steve, was still up when we got home, so we poured ourselves a beer each (in a pint glass), and sat watching TV with Steve (I have no idea what though...). Unfortunately, Tracy fell asleep in the armchair, and as the beer was in her hand, balanced on the armrest, it tipped and poured its contents all over the carpet! She woke straight away (no dropping a glass for our Tracy!) and was very apologetic. I think we were all a bit tired and drunk, so I stuck Tracy in a cab home, and cleaned up.

We would chat a lot about football, as she claimed to be a big West Ham fan, but her friends and family all had Charlton connections, and she did get dragged down to The Valley every now and then.

Tracy left NME in 1984 as she did not want to work at Commonwealth House, where the new offices were to be based following the move from Kings Reach Tower; I cannot remember who she went to work for. She eventually had children with her long time partner, and we did stay in some sort of loose contact (mainly through Jilly) for a few years, but I don't know her whereabouts nowadays.

Carolyn Hine
Now this was one crazy woman! Caroline came to work at NME when we were at Commonwealth House, selling mail order advertising. She was originally from Blackpool, and was quite tall with very long legs, spiky blonde hair, too much make up, and a punky dress sense. She was always wearing loose fitting tops with no bra and took pleasure in giving the lads in the office an eyeful too much; she didn't care!

She claimed to be a part-time model - she certainly had the figure/legs for it - but all attempts to see any of her photo shoots failed.

Caroline liked a drink, and would join us in the pub at lunchtime; she quite often would be joined by her long time boyfriend - Steve Bishop - who was a very muscular "chippy" who also had his own band. He had long matted blond hair, and they really did look like the rock star and his moll when they were out together. She also had a big "thing" for John Barnes thighs, and would drool over pictures of him when he played for her team Liverpool at every opportunity.

Caroline left NME under a cloud, after three other female members of staff complained to her boss about something that she had allegedly said. To me, what she said was just female bravado, but they took her comments seriously, and so did the management, and she was asked to leave.

She then went to work for an employment agency, and I met her for lunch on a few occasions, either in Docklands, or Covent Garden. It was quite strange seeing her dress respectably when compared with what she would wear at NME. When I met her for lunch in Docklands, I had the misfortune to drop my full pint just after buying it. The amazing thing was that the glass didn't break; however, the contents leapt from the glass and proceeded to hit the ceiling before coming down on top of me! I got some very funny looks after that episode! I did her a favour one time when she was in need of a person to cover a job for a day, having been let down late by someone else; I had just left NME so took the advantage of a days salary, being bossed around in the postal area by some little upstart at a city law firm. I didn't repeat that experience.

Eventually, Caroline split up from Steve and moved up to Lincolnshire, to work in a pub, and we lost touch. I can't imagine her being married with kids, unless John Barnes was available, but you never know...

Sunie Fletcher
Sunie joined the NME staff not long after I did, in 1977, so we had some sort of affinity right from the start. She was just twenty, with brown bobbed hair, and a nice figure. Her father was English, and had served in the Korean war (or police action...) in the fifties, where he had met a local girl whose nickname was Sunie. After marrying and settling in England, they had their first daughter and they named her after this nickname.

Sunie could be quite naive at times, but was very confident in her own abilities, and was probably the most promiscuous woman I've ever known. She had been in a relationship with Jean-Jacques Burnel, The Stranglers bassist, having met him after a gig - Sunie could out-groupie anyone I reckon! She got to know him well, and even visited him at his home in Somersham, near Huntingdon (where funnily enough my parents had bought a house). She was forward enough to even send him a postcard containing just her name and phone number when he hadn't been in touch for a while, and he duly called her for a "date".

Before working at NME, she had worked at the Stranglers Information Service for a while.

I recall her 21st birthday quite well; she was at work that day, and we had drinks at lunchtime, then in the evening we returned to The Stamford Arms for a few more. She was joined that evening by a guy called Billy, and we had quite a good time chatting and getting a few beers in. She was going on somewhere with Billy, so we all left at around 8pm. It was still light as we walked down Stamford Street toward Waterloo. A small youth, about fourteen or so, was walking toward us and he quite politely enquired if we knew the time? From out of the blue, Billy screamed at him at the top of his voice "NO!", and the poor lad wandered onwards after giving us all a wide berth. It was only later, maybe a couple of years later, that I came to know that this Billy was in fact Billy Bragg!

Sunie was also quite infatuated with Patrik Fitgerald, a punk-poet cum folkie, when she first started at NME and used to come into the office with photo contacts of him that she had taken (but couldn't afford to get developed).

Three of us from the ad production department used to travel up to Kettering each week for press day, and if one of us was sick or on holiday, we would try to get someone to join us from the sales department. Tuesday was a pretty quiet day in the sales office (being as it was in fact the end of the sales week) so we normally had the help we asked for. Sunie came up with us a couple of times, but didn't enjoy the experience much either time. On the first occasion, she was on the Comp floor (where the composition of the paper would take place on boards) reading an article when my colleague Frank walked up behind her. Frank called over to one of the older comps (compositors) named Stan (a jittery old guy who had seen it all and now couldn't stop shaking...) and said loudly "Oi, Stan, cop a load of this", whereupon he proceeded to quickly lift up Sunie's jumper/top, completely exposing her half-cup bra! Sunie screamed and ran off while Frank, Stan, and the rest of the comp room fell about laughing! On the second occasion, Sunie said she was going to be out the night before press day but would travel direct and would meet us at the printers. She was traveling from Oundle, where she had been with Billy Bragg the night before, but mis-judged the frequency and length of time the buses would take in getting to Kettering and didn't arrive until lunchtime! My boss was not amused by our short-handedness that morning. In fact, as I was walking up to the pub at lunchtime with some of the editorial guys, Sunie was walking down the road toward us (just arriving), and she then joined us in having a few lunchtime bevies, thereby delaying her arrival for work that day even longer! Mike, my boss, went mad when he found that out, though I did try to placate him and protect her.

Sunie continued to do a good job on the sales side though, being very persuasive at times. She had good contacts, and promoted herself to these people and other potential clients/friends/future bosses. She had a relationship with Alan Edwards, a PR guru whom was diminutive but good looking, which she openly described as "30 minutes of ecstacy followed by 30 seconds of disappointment". She did maintain her friendship with Edwards, and eventually worked with him after leaving NME.

She also used her groupie route to get close to Blitz Krieg (Andy) from Blast Furnace and the Heatwaves, Nigel Bennett (The Members), Max Bell (NME writer), and Bill Drummond (Echo & the Bunnymen manager) with whom she eventually had her son Alex.

Sunie had a sister called Yvonne (not the policewoman Yvonne Fletcher who was shot outside the Iranian Embassy in the early eighties), and she was a chip off the Sunie block too in some respects (but not all). She used to love UB40, and I went to see them quite a few times with her, or saw her there when I went with others. She used to follow them around the country but I don't think she was ever romantically linked with any of the band - she just loved the music. She also loved football, being a Luton Town fan, and we talked a lot about ex-Charlton players Paul Walsh and Paul Elliott who now played for Luton. I took her out one evening - drinks, dinner, more drinks - but we didn't hit it off, and just remained friends. Later, she was involved in the Football Supporters Trust, set up after the Hillsboro tragedy, and I heard her speaking about the work the trust did on the radio.

Sunie left NME and worked all over the place for a while, doing PR work, writing for Record Mirror, etc, but then she had Alex and seemed to settle down a bit. I stayed one night at her flat at Surrey Quays after a party at Maz's house in Balham, and it was nice to meet Alex the next morning when he came back from the babysitter.

In truth, I was infatuated with Sunie for most of the time she worked at NME, but it was all unrequited. I haven't heard anything from her in years now, though I did find this link from a web search in October 2005 - I don't know if it is the same person - it could well be - but you never know...

Karla Faerber
Karla was funny woman who did the Classified ads for a number of years. She was small, and had had polio as a child, which left her walking with a limp. Actually, she didn't have much luck with medical matters and eventually had to have a kidney transplant in St Thomas's Hospital - her Super-Kidney she called it! That also meant she couldn't drink alcohol at all, though she would have the odd Cola down the pub every now and then.

She had spiky black fur rather than hair (very soft!), and wore bright red lipsticks, and Siouxsie style eye make up. She is the scary looking girl on the NME ad dept single cover I put up here recently. She was infatuated with Boy George for a time (as I mentioned under my Gary Crowley blog), and later with other "pop" stars.

She could talk for England, and sometimes it was difficult for her to control her runaway mouth, which would get her into trouble.

When she got bored with typing the classified adverts up each week, she got herself a job as the picture researcher for the editorial department just after they moved into Commonwealth House. This meant she was upstairs in a room on her own most days, without anyone to talk to (apart from the occasional phone call or visitor), so I used to go to see her when things were quiet so she could have a rant at someone.

In about 1988, she decided to leave NME, taking voluntary redundancy, the money from which she planned to use to pay for her hobby of designing jewellery and clothes (belts etc). I doubt she was very successful as the stuff she produced while still at NME wasn't very saleable in my opinion. Nobody heard anything from her after she went - she lived in Battersea, away from anyone else and didn't go out much at night.

Jilly Horne
Jilly was another of our classified girls, and just pre-dated Karla. I still know Jilly so I'd better be careful what I say!

Jilly was a Northern girl - the Witch Queen of the North she would call herself sometimes - and a big Stranglers fan (more High Cornwall than JJ though) and (as with Sunie) worked for the Stranglers Information Service for a while.

Jilly liked to dress glam, and had a few parties at her various flats over the couple of years she was at NME which were quite good fun (she is still a party girl at heart!). Jilly shared her flat for a while with two american women - Missy and Tanya - and my colleague Barry had good reason to remember Missy after the NME Christmas party one year, where they got to know each other more than a little!

She has a younger sister (the lovely Sally) and brother (Nigel), and I well remember her brother at one party responding when asked if he was OK by crushing a paper cup in his fist! Very strange, and not too cool either, as he got the remnants of the drink all down his clothes! He was young then, and still at college...

In fact Nigel is very talented now he's grown up, and he wrote a screenplay for a film (The Wedding Tackle) that premiered in 2001, and featured Adrian Dunbar, Victoria Smurfit, Tony Slattery, Leslie Grantham, Neil Stukes, James Purefoy, Amanda Redman, Sarah Stockridge, and a few others too. Jilly actually had a walk on part in it, and asked me to be an extra, which required me to sit in a Shepherds Bush pub for about five hours but I declined as I was too busy. Jilly invited us to the wrap party (at a bar near Farringdon), and also the premiere in Leicester Square. Also there were Vanessa Feltz (who complimented my girlfriend on her outfit!), and Jo Guest (exposing herself!). The film bombed unfortunately, although I thought it was quite funny, and it was even shown on BBC1 the other night! She has done a fair bit of local acting I think and also been a drama teacher at various schools since then.

Jilly eventually moved to Bath, and lived down there for a while (not far from Hugh Cornwall who was in Bristol...); I visited her after seeing Charlton play Bristol Rovers (who at that time played at Twerton Park in Bath) but as it was a very important last-game-of-the-season, and we lost, I don't think I was much fun to be around that weekend...

Jilly now lives up in Northumbria, with her ever faithful puppy dog Pilot (who is now about 98 years old!), and we still send postcards to each other from exotic places and threaten to meet up at every opportunity!

This is a cozy little site that lets anyone with a brain give it back to George W. Bush in a plenty hurtful way. Not only does he fall, but you can drag him (using your mouse) into the balls (especially when he gets stuck!). I imagine that half of the free world is now playing with this... Have fun!

Alex Kerr-Wilson
Alex was a fun person, who worked at NME for about four years during the eighties. She initially handled the mail order advertising, before moving across to cover the Live! adverts later. She had strawberry blonde, spiky, hair, a large chest, and skinny hips; she liked to wear leopard skins trousers at least once a week into the office! She was also easily embarrassed, so she didn't venture down the stairs to our office too often unless he had to.

Alex had a fairly long term relationship with Zeke Manyika, who was the drummer with Orange Juice at that time. Alex knew all the band, and was also friends with Marc Almond and Matt Johnson (The The ), and I remember her having a booze-up/party where Zeke, Edwyn Collins and Marc all turned up.

Zeke was a nice guy and he joined us for drinks in The Stamford Arms one lunch time. I think he was surprised that I bought him a beer, but that was the norm in those days (I'd get anyone a drink!). We had a good chat and said we should do it again, but Alex never got him back over to the south bank again unfortunately. When Zeke's solo album (the wonderful Mastercrime) came out, I helped give its adverts prominent positions in the paper, and Alex kindly gave me the CD for free. It's an amazingly frank album (produced by Matt Johnson) dealing with love, South African apartheid politics, and music - the mainstays of Zeke's life really.

Alex eventually had enough of the NME ad sales politics and moved on, initially to a recording studio near Tower Bridge where almost immediately Enya recorded her very successful first album.

Just before she left, she suggested that a friend of hers work at NME; an amazingly mad, sexy, woman nicknamed "Action" Jackson. An ex-kick boxer, Jackson took great pleasure in showing me her non-white bits after a holiday in the Caribbean luckily for me! She didn't stay too long but it was fun while she was around...

I understand that Alex is alive and well and found the picture shown here on the web recently (Alex is second left).

Apparently she is now at Probe Productions and/or representing Plenty Hot Records, though I can't find any more info on her (or either company) from Google searches...

Claire Davies
Claire was another lovely woman; an ex-air stewardess, she moved into ad sales but it never really suited her, even though she tried her best. She had a lovely smile, a very fit and attractive body, and dressed well too.

She had a long-term boyfriend - Dominic - who was much younger than her (by about six years) and, although not tall, he was built like a brick-outhouse! Claire told me a story about her time with him on some beach in the south of France; she said that as they both lay there sunbathing, she noticed Dominic ogling the other women, so she took off her bikini. I asked if she minded going topless and she said that she was already topless, and she had taken her bikini bottom off! She confirmed that that got Dominic's attention away from the other sunbathers! She also asked me one day, while standing by the lifts, for an opinion on her new fancy underwear - it was very nice, lacy, beige, and dead sexy! I think I blushed... She really was without fear sexually - she had a picture on her wall at work of a very fit and muscular black man, completely naked, posing. Art or pornography? It probably wasn't any worse than the images that guys had of women on their walls around the offices, but it was brazen for a woman to do something similar in the early eighties.

Claire worked on the mail order ads for a few months, and then moved onto external ad sales, but couldn't hack it really. After her three months probation in the new job were up she left rather sadly; she liked working with us, and us with her, but she didn't meet the right work profile I guess.

Marian (Maz) Cowler
Along with Wendy and Sunie, Maz made up a crazy triumvirate of great girls who worked at NME in the late seventies/early eighties. If Wendy was the blonde (albeit peroxide), Sunie the redhead (albeit henna), then Maz was the true brunette. I used to love being around them all, as it was always such fun. The three of them became good friends at that time, and Sunie and Maz actually shared a house for some time in Essex Road. They also shared with a girl called Donna Tracy, who was better known as Honey Bane (see pic - left), a punk singer who didn't quite live up to expectation, though she is still singing/acting today. Donna eventually got the boot from the house as she had broken a window to get into the empty house one evening after forgetting her keys, and then gone out again without blocking up the window! Not very sensible...

During their time in Essex Road, the girls (Maz and Sunie) were joined by an Irish friend who needed somewhere to crash after recently crossing the Irish Sea. He was a singer in a new, up-and-coming band called U2 , and his name was Bono. Sunie got very upset one day when she found that Maz and Bono had got it together one afternoon while she was out! He didn't hang around too long, but I believe it was the first place he stayed (and/or strayed?) after arriving in London.

It was Maz who introduced Wendy to Mark Woon (see Wendy's pen pic from 12th October).

One party I went to at Essex Road (and there were plenty while they were there!) was during winter, and I wore my white cricket jumper as it was quite cold. Also at this party was a singer with another band, and he saw me and later copied my "style" big time - his name was Richard Jobson and he wore cricket jumpers quite a lot in the following years as he became more famous as a singer with The Skids and as a TV presenter (01 for London, etc).

Eventually, Maz moved out after one argument too many, and she shared a flat in Maida Vale with, among others, a girl called Linda Fox. Linda became infamous in one of those kiss-and-tell stories to the Sunday papers, as she recounted her one night stand with David Bowie - I believe she got £10,000 for that! I crashed at that flat after Mark Woon's 21st birthday bash; the problem for me was that the bash was on a Monday night, and I had to catch the train up to Kettering for the NME press day the next morning. We eventually got to bed about 3am - Maz telling Linda off for starting to undress in front of me - and I had an alarm clock which I'd set for 6 o'clock so I could get myself away in time for the early train. Still fairly drunk, I was woken by a ringing noise which I presumed to be the clock; I fumbled around trying to turn it off, but couldn't for some reason although, confusingly, the ringing did stop, then start again. Eventually, in my stupor, I realized that the noise was in fact coming from outside my room, and I walked into the hallway, wearing just my underpants. I realized that it was the doorbell ringing, and picked up the answer phone. A slurred voice asked me to let him in, but I couldn't tell who it was so wouldn't agree to do so (even if I had known how to let him in!); I kept saying I couldn't and a conversation of a type continued until, woken by my talking, Maz emerged and sorted everything. It was Mark, returning after the party finished, who had come round to crash here too! I was just so out of it I hadn't recognized his voice...

Maz came back home with me one summers night after we'd been out to see a band somewhere, and got on really well with my mum. When we got up in the morning, my mother was already in the garden, weeding, but she took pleasure in letting her have a cutting of some funny plant (I'm not very good at botany!), which I know Maz cultivated and still had growing in a pot when she lived in Balham.

Maz also took me to see the later re-incarnation of The Members (who, like Maz, were from Woking); Nicky Tesco's new band were called Bad Man Wagon, hoping that the BMW monicker would catch on. The only problem was they weren't very good... I met Nicky quite a few times at gigs and the like, and he was a decent bloke really.

Maz left NME to work for Polydor Records, and she had quite a good thing going over there. I don't really know what she was meant to do, but she enjoyed the time; I visited her in her office one lunchtime, and she was the life and soul of the place. She then left Polydor to work for a PR company near London Bridge, where Sunie had worked a few years previously I think. She ended up working with one band (who's name I can't recall, but they didn't amount to very much) and had a relationship with one of the members; the only problem was he had a girlfriend already and that caused problems for them both. I used to meet her for lunch (as it was short walk from Kings Reach), and remember quite a few beers being drunk in the pubs by the river.

She eventually got herself a nice boyfriend, and they settled down together in Balham, eventually having a baby (called Jerry I think).

The last time I saw her was just before she fell pregnant, at one of my birthday bashes in a Covent Garden pub, when I embarrassed myself somewhat. She's probably got a few kids now, and has had to work hard to make ends meet. A lovely girl, I hope she has enjoyed her life.

We went to see Echo and the Bunnymen last night, at Shepherds Bush Empire, and had an interesting time. The band were very good, playing numerous old classics, some of which I haven't heard them play live for many, many years! I guess that there will be live reviews of the gig elsewhere from the media or other bloggers, so I want to talk about the crowd for a change.

We arrived at Shepherds Bush early, so found a pub (The Green); it was showing the football (Liverpool, so we knew the band wouldn't be on till that finished at 9.30). The pub was busy, but it was a strange looking bunch. To me, it seemed more like the people you would get going to a football match than a gig - mostly male, mainly older, not dressed too fashionably (jeans everywhere...) but definitely in their best clothes! And there wan't too much hair about either, with most of the men having taken that "I'm going bald so I might as well shave it all off" decision! Quite sad...

After a couple of beers, we went into the Empire, which was pretty busy by now. We had stalls tickets this time; on all other occasions at The Empire (except one) we have sat upstairs in one of the circles. It wasn't so bad getting served at the bar, and we stood chatting and people watching while support band L20 played a good set.

When the Bunnies came on, we moved down to the stalls floor from the at-the-back bar area. Here it was pretty full, so using experience gained over many years, we stood our ground and watched, then took any and every opportunity to move forward when somebody in front of us left for a refill or toilet break. What surprised me was that after people had left the floor to do whatever they had to do, they seemed to insist on trying to get back to exactly the same spot they had occupied before...not a good idea! Especially if someone else is standing there now!

I also didn't really appreciate having a guy singing loudly at the top of his voice in my ear; I mouth the words (when I can remember them) but I would have prefered to listen to Mac actually (he has the better voice I can guarantee)!

My final whinge was about the number of people filming the event on their video-mobiles. I always thought this was strictly off-limits, as bootlegging does the band no favours at all. I think it's OK to take the odd-fuzzy picture at a live event, but taping holds a lot of bad karma for me. It didn't seem to matter to many though, as they held up their brand new mobiles, blocking peoples views, gathering up the sound and vision, then sending the footage to their less-fortunate friends elsewhere.

An aside: Why do men insist on taking their beer into the toilets, and then leaving them in there when they have finished precariously placed above the urinal? I saw loads of unfinished pints (some cups up to half full) standing there, left behind, waiting to fall. Crazy!

So the gig finished; the band were very good but the crowd got on my nerves big-time. At least Mac hadn't resorted to a football-related slanging match with them, winding them up - I guess he didn't need to as Liverpool had won.

We jumped on the tube back into London, and tried to catch a train home but just missed it by 15 seconds or so (watching it close it's doors and pull away...), so we caught the next one ten minutes later and decided to take a cab home from Hither Green. The cab driver was a nice guy, waiting while my girlfriend walked down from the station in the rain (I had run to ensure getting the taxi); as we drove home, he played an old Madness album which was fun, while I chatted to my girlfriend about seeing them play live back in the late seventies and early eighties. My girlfriend gave me some money (a note) which I handed to the driver for the £10 fare, plus a quid tip. We got out, the cab drove off, and she says to me "did you get the change?". I say no, I didn't even know it was a twenty!!! Oh well, we agreed, the driver had a good tip that time! Just as we were closing the front door of our house, I heard the cab reverse and the driver roll down the window. He asked if I knew what I'd handed over and gave me ten quid back - what a nice, honest, man. My faith in human kind restored. A big-up for the taxi firm on the corner of Leahurst and Staplehurst Roads, Hither Green (the Lee side of the station)!

The gig was filmed (I think for a BBC4 programme), so you can check out most of the above for yourself...

I'm off to se Echo and the Bunnymen tonight at Shepherds Bush Empire - yes, I did remember the date this time round! - and I'm really quite excited about it. This will be the first time I've seen them in a couple of years (due to aforesaid forgetting the date when they played at The Bloomsbury Theatre last year) and with the excellent new album just being released a couple of months back, most of the new material will be played and we'll see what older stuff they mix it with.

My memory doesn't really go back that far in too much detail, but I remember seeing the Bunnies many times in the late seventies and early eighties. I remember I saw them play at the YMCA, just off Tottenham Court Road in London, and also on the five-timer bill at The Lyceum one Sunday, where they shared the stage with The Teardrop Explodes, Manicured Noise, Psychedelic Furs, and A Certain Ratio. I believe on that mini-tour, the bands all took it in turns to play top and bottom of the bill, and all places in-between no doubt. At The Lyceum, MN were first up, then Teardrop, Bunnies, ACR, and the Furs last; it was a very good night!

I then started to see the Bunnymen again when they re-formed and started gigging regularly again in the mid/late nineties; most gigs since then seem to have been at the Empire, as with tonight, but I've also seen them play at the Royal Festival Hall and in Kentish Town I think.

I've never really met any of the band, but I did encounter Mac once while working at NME; I was sitting on the sofa in reception at the Carnaby Street office when Mac came in to deliver something for someone. He stood right in front of me as he handed over his offering, towering high up to the ceiling, peering down under his fringe, shades sitting on his nose, greatcoat swinging open, the epitomy of a future rock god!

A woman that I worked with at NME (Sunie or Sue Fletcher as she was sometimes known)thought Mac was georgeous at that time (1979-ish), and as she had done before with a few other well-known (punk/new wave) band members, set out to make him one of her conquests. I believe she went up to Liverpool to get close to him (she had very good means of doing that...) but actually ended up with the bands manager - Bill Drummond; I don't know if she ever got Mac between the sheets. Sunie had an on-off relationship with Bill for years, eventually bearing his child - her first - Alex, who will probably be about 20 years old now! I haven't seen or heard of Sunie for a long time now, but I hope she's happy and has had a good life...she may even be going to see the band tonight?!?