Tag: Stephen Spielberg

A Knight’s Tale (60: I Come A Cropper)

Towards the end of 1972, I spent a short period alone in another of Tony’s properties, this one in Gillespie Road, near Arsenal’s then football ground.  One weekend at that time I returned from visiting Matthew and Becky to find my Ford Corsair concertinaed.  Its front and back had each been pushed in a bit. Apparently there had been an attempted murder in which another car had been used to run down a pedestrian.  Things had got rather out of control and the murder weapon plunged into the car parked behind mine which was shoved into the one in front.

My readers are probably hoping that the story would finish there.  No such luck.  There was more.  David Hignett, one of the social workers in my Southwark Area Team, with Pat Benge at his side, offered to tow me in his very solid Volvo, to Raynes Park which still housed my garage.  We set off after work, and drove at a rate of knots through London from north to south.  The chosen route took us into Chelsea’s King’s Road.  In the ’70s, this was the place to be noticed.  I certainly was.

David drove at a good thirty miles an hour, and didn’t seem to slow down for bends.  As we turned left into King’s Road, the towrope became entangled around my nearside front wheel. When we stopped at traffic lights I alighted from my car and waved to my friend who repeated the gesture.  Pointing to the underside of the vehicle I crouched down and began to tackle the rope.  The lights changed.  Off David sped.  I leapt to my feet and started running.  Between two motors tied together.  The one following had no driver.

Fans of Stephen Spielberg’s 1971 TV masterpiece ‘Duel’ will know that it is possible to be chased by an apparently driverless vehicle.  There was no question about mine.  It was driverless.  The driver was running down the road in front of it.

Naturally, I yelled a bit at David.  Pat screamed at him to stop.  He did.  My Corsair didn’t.  I turned to see it bearing down on me.  Bracing myself for the impact I caught my car in my hands by the front bumper and actually managed to stop it.  Unfortunately the front of the Ford also caught my leading leg, ripped it a bit, and my trousers even more.

As I limped to the kerbside after we’d all come to a halt, I might, I thought, have been justified in being disappointed that no-one in the crowd that had now gathered seemed inclined to offer sympathy or concern for my health.  They were all looking for the film crew.  After all, why else would a young man wearing a brown velvet suit come a cropper in such an unlikely manner?

For anyone who is actually concerned, I simply suffered a little bruising, with my bones intact.

Published by derrickjknight

I am a septuagenarian enjoying rambling physically and photographing what I see, and rambling in my head as memories are triggered. I also ramble through a lifetime’s photographs View more posts

No Play Today

Today was dank, dull, and overcast, in stark contrast to the glorious sunshine of yesterday.  Jackie and I stayed at home. This morning was spent on domestic tasks, and after lunch we watched Stephen Spielberg’s fascinating film ‘Catch Me If You Can’ on BBC iPlayer.
We had some considerable frustration in actually finding iPlayer and subsequently the film on television.  This is because the system of navigation has been changed and I, for one, hardly ever used the old one.  Nevertheless we enjoyed the production enough for Jackie to read Wikipedia’s version of the story of a juvenile con-man who impersonated a series of professionals and defrauded numerous banks out of millions of dollars in the late 1960s.
The opening credits tell us that the film is ‘inspired by a true story’.  Frank Abagnale Jr is the lead character, played brilliantly by Leonardo di Caprio, who as a rather older actor manages to be a quite creditable teenager who conducted his fraudster adventure before he reached the age of eighteen. In the process he impersonates a teacher; an airline pilot; a doctor; and a lawyer. The initial bravado and excitement, progressing through self-doubt and ultimate signs of panic are well portrayed. There are touchingly tragic elements to the story of this young man who set himself off on a roller-coaster ride and really rather wants to get off but doesn’t know how to do so. Tom Hanks is the FBI agent chasing his fugitive across half the world.  He presents a clever mixture of haplessness and useful observation and intuition.  Christopher Walken is convincing as the conman father on whom we are given to believe Frank has modelled himself. Wikipedia describes a very different Frank Abagnale Senior.  But then, the film does not claim to be a biopic and dramatically this works very well.
Di Caprio’s character is finally caught and imprisoned.  Through a developing friendship with Hanks’s FBI agent he is eventually released and works for the Investigation Bureau’s fraud squad.  Wikipedia confirms and expands upon this.
Number 41 in the ‘through the ages’ series of photographs features Garrick House Cricket Club, which I joined as an opening bowler in 1957.  This photograph was taken in the summer of 1958.
Garrick House cricket team
Garrick House in Southampton Street, Covent Garden was the home of theatrical publishers Samuel French Ltd.  The cricket club was that of the firm.  By 1957, no-one playing for the team worked for the publishers.  They therefore handed over ownership and all the kit to the current body of men. The club was, a year or two later merged with Trinity (Battersea) Cricket club, for whom a number of the Garrick House players, including me, turned out.  It was Stan Oxley, seated in the centre of the picture, who was one of the trio who formed the Battersea club, and spent his life as its Secretary, who recruited me, first for the team above, and the following year for the much stronger Trinity.  There was then no conflict of interest because Garrick house played on Saturdays at Cottenham Park, and Trinity was a wandering Sunday side.
From left to right on the top row stand Peter Gwilliam, Ray Chard, Norman Vigor, Mike Vaughan, and me.  Seated are John Baker, Jack Niblett, Stan, John O’Rourke, and Tony Woodward.  Bob Mitchell sits on the grass.
Peter was a classy batsman and occasional wicketkeeper lacking similar class. Ray was a powerful all-rounder whose input was somewhat variable.  Norman was a talented and stylish batsman and useful fast bowler, who married Eileen, an England off-spinner. Mike could turn a game with his powerful hitting, and was a good wicketkeeper.  Modesty prevails for the next one.
John Baker didn’t play often, but was a strong batsman and fast bowler.  Jack Niblett was the Alec Bedser of the side.  He resembled the great Surrey and England medium paced bowler in size and delivery, but lacked his variation. Jack, very successfully, wore down the opposition by placing the ball, from a remarkably short run-up, exactly on the spot just outside the off stump, at an unexpectedly brisk pace. Every time. Ball after ball. If you wanted to score off him you had to take a risk. I often thought he bored them to death. Matthew 9.71 He was definitely a number eleven batsman. Stan, I’ve mentioned above.  He was the hub of the club, and after his death sometime in the 1980s the club was renamed Trinity (Oxley) Cricket Club. John O’Rourke was not happy. He was a less than successful pace bowler. Tony was a keen photographer. He once borrowed a couple of my slides to submit to a photographic competition. He didn’t pass them off as his own, but they did receive some commendation.  One, unfortunately I’ve lost.  The other, taken in September 1971, of Matthew peering through my sister Jacqueline’s back door window, he entitled ‘No Play Today’.
Bob has featured before.  He was a fairly reasonable spin bowler and occasional batsman.
This evening we dined on battered haddock and chips, mushy peas and pickled onions.  Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I enjoyed Les 3 Lys Crozes Hermitages 2010.