Going, going, gone...... I started this blog in May 2007 to chart the path I would follow as i put my house on the market. little did I know it would be two and a half years later that I would be reporting the conclusion of the journey.

Yes, I have finally exchanged on the sale and vacate the property on 6th November. I will be leaving London to live away for the first time in nearly 40 years, and will need to locate the nearest source of London Pride or Youngs Ordinary to avoid my liver going into shutdown.

Thanks goodness for the internet which will allow me to follow the local issues and sporting prowess of the team which i have followed for much of that time.

A lot of things have happened in the time the house has been on the market. Maxine and I have become grandparents, our oldest son, Tim has married, and our oldest daughter is engaged. A few friends have passed away, and we have mourned their loss.

We have travelled a fair bit it has to be said. Peru, Brazil, Egypt, Portugal, Chicago, Edinburgh, Rome. Paris and Cyprus have been on our schedule, as well as a cruise around the islands of the Mediterranean. At that should stand us in good stead now that my Company has cast me adrift by making draconian changes to its final salary pension scheme.

I met the CEO yesterday and asked him outright why I should stay in his Company. His reply was hopeless, and as a colleague of mine once said, 'when the lunatics start running the asylum, its time to leave' . I think they are, and I am. ETD is scheduled for 5th February at the moment which will make the England v Wales game at Twickenham the next day a bit of a blinder.

So the blog has fulfilled one role, and now it takes on a new one as it tracks my progress through early retirement, life in Scouserland and potentially a few entrepreneurial projects. Watch this space one may come to a road near you........

Labels: brazil, chicago, Edinburgh, Egypt, Peru, portugal, Rome. Paris, scouse, twickenham

  ¶ 3:36 PM 1 Comments

  The Road to Rio Phase 2 of the South American tour saw Tim drag the new Mrs Weathers to afore mentioned Murphy's for the Carling Cup final between United and Hotspurs. It was a reasonable 0-0 cup final between two under strength teams but there was only going to be one winner when it went to penalties.

Murphy's is owned by an ex-Twickenham resident and Spurs supporter who moved to Sao Paulo in 1987. It also sells London Pride albeit at £8 a bottle. The guv'nor was curious why I had not dropped in when I was there in 1989....it might have had something to do with working Monday to Friday and then going to Rio for the weekends....some things never change as me, SWMBO, Kieran and Becky and partners headed there for some r & r, as Mr and Mrs Weathers II headed to Kenya.

SWMBO and I were staying in a five star on Copacabana, the kids were in a hovel a few blocks back, moaning a bit. I explained to them they had to earn the right to stay in a five star, but sagging in to use the facilities, as they did, is fine.

Copacabana is a fine place, a beach by day and a sports arena by night, people still playing footie at 3 am.

We did Sugar loaf, Christ the Redeemer and the Girl from Ipanema bar, where Antonio Carlos Jobin wrote it. Rio named their airport after him which struck a cord (sic) with the scousers and John Lennon international.

Highlight for me was the row in the street with the taxi driver after ordering everybody out at the traffic lights. Don't think SWMBO and Kieran were too impressed but the cabbie did finally get in the car to get me change, not get a gun and shoot me once we had settled our differences in language neither of us understood.

That was the only flashpoint of the whole tour, Sao Paulo and Rio are just like London, but with weather.

Labels: christ the redeemer, copacabana, Mrs Weathers, Rio Sao Paulo, sugar loaf, twickenham

  ¶ 11:56 PM 0 Comments

  The Empire strikes back There is a shop on Twickenham Green in West London which sells Storm Trooper outfits modelled on the suits worn in the Start Wars films. I understand there is a serious sub-culture surrounding these suits and the use of them. Fanatics are booked for Star Wars exhibitions, weddings, theme parties and night club events, and the people who embrace the Force take great pride in their appearance.There are a number of variations in the design of the suits and the worst thing a person can do is mix and match, definitely a no-go.

Now however things have taken a sinister turn. The person who manufactured the helmets for the original films, Andrew Ainsworth owns the shop. In 2004 he discovered one of the original helmets he had made in a cupboard in his home in Twickenham.

After successfully selling it to a collector, he began to manufacture the outfits once more, through his company, Shepperton Design Studios. He found a legion of Star Wars fans willing to pay up to £1,800 for a suit and helmet. Lucasfilm responded in 2006 by suing Mr Ainsworth. A judge in California awarded the firm $20 million (£10 million) in damages for copyright infringement, unfair competition and trademark infringement. It has now brought the case to Britain to ensure that this decision is enforced here. The case is currently being heard.

Lawyers for Mr Ainsworth are arguing that the copyright has expired, because the uniforms were pieces of industrial design rather than works of art.

Lucasfilm has made in excess of £6 billion from merchandise sales off the back of the Star Wars films, so they are certainly the Empire in this particular battle. Mr Ainsworth is counter suing for a share of this £6 billion over the last 30 years. Lets hope that Luke Skywalker is batting for the good guys again.

Labels: Andrew Ainsworth, george lucas, lucasfilm, luke skywalker, star wars, twickenham

  ¶ 11:22 AM 0 Comments

  Field of Dreams Blimey! what a weekend. The house was invaded by our youngest and his mates, seven in all I think, who came down to support 'Trotter' who was playing on the wing for Birkenhead Park in their EDF Intermediate Vase cup final at the RFU in Twickenham Stadium.

How jealous was I that he got to run out on the hallowed turf, but good luck to him. I have known 'Trotter' almost as long as Kieran, and Maxine the same, so it was only right and proper that we went along too. I am, after all, a fully paid up member of 'Park'. Trouble was it kicked off at 10:00, being the first of three finals.

Anyway, there must have been over 1000 people watching, maybe more, as Exeter, Northampton and Leicester supports drifted in during the second half, and as a final it was not half bad.....Park took the lead with a few penalties, then Chester (for it was a local derby) scored a fairly soft try, but Park battled back to be leading 14-18 and they dominated the second half without putting the game to bed. 'Trotter' was playing pretty steady, a few good breaks and some sound defence, when sadly he was thrown a slow looping pass by his centre. If it had gone to hand it was glory time for 'Trotter' , but the Chester winger had all his Christmases instead, intercepting and running seventy yards to touchdown under the posts. 21-18 win for them, then. Still 'Trotter' managed to score later so the weekend was not a total disaster!!

The Masters, the first of the four major golf tournaments, was being televised this weekend, and it brought to mind a contrast between most major sporting events and golf. 'Trotter' was one of the few who can tell their kids they have played at Twickenham Stadium, and trod the same sods as many legends of the game. The final was one of five which the RFU and EDF collaborate to try to get grass roots players playing there. Football has its Amateur Cup and FA Vase aimed at lower league players running out at Wembley, but your average (or below average) Sunday league player has very little chance of playing there. There are amateur races at Aintree and Ascot for jockeys or point-to-point riders but again they are limited.

With golf, however, anybody can effectively turn up, pay their green fee and tread the same turf, putt on the same greens and shower in the same facilities as Tiger Woods, Jack Nicklaus, Bobby Jones, Seve Ballesteros or any of the other famous names associated with the sport. Indeed, while playing Valderama in Spain a few years ago, I was delighted at the 17th to chip over the brook and onto the green for three, two putting for a five. I was only too happy to point out that at the Ryder Cup a few weeks earlier, Tiger had failed with his chip and found the brook, only managing a bogey. So for one hole, and one hole only, I was better than Tiger!!

The irony of course ,is that Augusta, where the Masters is always held, is almost impossible to play as a visitor, but hey, there are enough other top courses around to more than make up for it.

Labels: chester RFC, jack nicklaus, Masters, seve ballesteros, Speedo's birkenhead park, tiger woods, twickenham, valderama

  ¶ 2:39 PM 0 Comments

  Entry fee extra.... There has been much discussion lately about the rising cost of air travel, with talk of increased landing charges for Heathrow and Gatwick and fuel charge supplements affecting most major airlines. Couple that with the cheap airlines like RyanAir and EasyJet adding-on for hold baggage and golf clubs, and the whole scene becomes extremely confusing. people are up in arms about early boarding charges and 'long leg' premiums. All are classed as stealth charges making cheap ticket prices a misleading selling ploy.

Luckily the Office of Fair Trading has clamped down on these practices so that at least the surcharges are included in the price, if not the luggage charge. Now lets turn our attention to something else which continues to irritate me.

I regularly use TicketMaster for concert and sporting event tickets. They have hidden charges too. This week I ordered six tickets with face value £15 each for a rugby game at Twickenham. I was then charged a booking fee of £2.40 per ticket, and postage of £2.20. As I could only order two tickets at a time that cost me postage on each transaction. The whole package was £109.80, a 22% premium on their face value.

So, I went directly to the RFU box office as I was passing, but they were not selling tickets for this event, it was TicketMaster or nothing. What I want to know is why don't they just say the tickets are £18.40 including P & P, up front, so we all know where we stand, or in this case, sit?

Labels: easyjet, gatwick, heathrow, RFU, ryanair, Ticketmaster, twickenham

  ¶ 12:07 PM 0 Comments

  Into the valley of death..... You can read about the latest Six nations Rugby weekend on my chum Dicks blog here. The focus of the evening was once again centred on The Prince Blucher public house, and at the bus-stop as we waited for our big red carriage to take us home, Dicks son Robert asked who he was.

So who is he and what do I know about the pub?

Well, Prince Blucher was actually a Prussian field marshall who led his army against Napolean I the Battle of Nations at Leipzig in 1813 and at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 with the Duke of Wellington. Indeed had Bluchers army not intervened at Waterloo it is likely that Wellington would have been defeated. In that particular action, however, Bluchers army was directed there by General August von Gneisenau who assumed command of what remained of Bluchers army, after a defeat at Ligny. Blucher was trapped for several hours under his dead horse and assumed to have been killed in action. He dies in 1819 aged 76, however, in recognition of his service to, and support of Wellington, the British named a steam train after him. Better that than having to put your Bluchers on when it gets muddy!

So what of the pub? It has been in the ownership of Fullers brewery for many years. Rugby memorabilia adorns the walls and a plaque commemorates the founding of Twickenham Rugby Football Club in the pub in 1867. They no longer play their games on the green opposite the pub of course, but you can re-enact history during the summer months and bring your beer with you.

Members of the club still drink in there regularly, although it ceased to be the gathering place for the majority when 'Holty Corner' was removed to be shortly followed by the landlord John Geller, who subsequently moved over to the Sussex across the road. James, the manager who took over, was very tolerant of our Sunshine mountain at the weekend, although I think weight of numbers was in our favour!!

The pub used to have a bar top which was made up of old pennies, but the Health and Safety Executive had something to say about that and it was removed in the early Eighties . Some of it survives now in the Fullers museum in Chiswick.

It has sadly made the national news for all the wrong reasons in the last few years when Levi Bellfield, was recently convicted of killing Amelie Delagrange and Marsha McDonnell. Amelie was killed on the Green outside the pub.

Prince Blucher was also part of my life when we purchased a house in Waterloo, a suburb of Merseyside, just North of Liverpool. Not surprisingly there is a Wellington Street, a Blucher Street and Picton Road, named after Sir Thomas Picton, one of Wellingtons trusted lieutenants who was killed in the battle.

Colonel Fuller, commander of the King's Dragoon Guards, was also killed in battle, I wonder whether that influenced the brewery to recognise the battle in the Prince Blucher pub name?

Labels: Fuller smith and turner, picton, Prince blucher, twickenham, waterloo, wellington

  ¶ 8:30 PM 1 Comments

  The Nineteen Days of Christmas I have had a bit of a result this year. My Christmas celebrations always start with the Varsity match, either by being at Twickenham in person, or in a pub somewhere watching on the TV. From then on its trying to cram as many Christmas do's and celebrations in as possible.

This year they have changed the date of the game. It was always the second Tuesday in December with a 2pm kick-off, its now the first Thursday at 4pm. So I have an extra five extra party days, and spectators at the game can have a much more leisurely luncheon before decamping to the ground. The local residents are not too impressed. They see it as another night of traffic conjestion but hey ho.

The game has lost some of its appeal as a match in recent years, with the professional game depriving both Oxford and Cambridge of the budding and current home international players who used to grace the sides. Nowadays there is the odd colonial cap who is doing a PhD or similar, otherwise it is well meaning under-graduates given the biggest stage in the game on which to perform. As an event though, it continues to get good support from students, graduates and hangers-on from the City. I probably fall into the last category.

Now where is my diary, I still have a few dates to fill up.

Labels: cambridge, Oxford, twickenham, varsity match

  ¶ 11:25 AM 0 Comments

  ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh stayin' alive I have been ridiculed about my clothes sense before. Farah slacks were banned by the kids some years ago, and I have had dated round collared shirts flushed down the toilet by well meaning house mates. I still keep a pair of loons in the wardrobe hoping one day to be able to do the waist up, and all my 'interesting' designer stuff is now reserved for the golf course.

Labels: e-Bay, england, farah, twickenham, white linen suit

  ¶ 1:31 PM 0 Comments

  For sale, Chariot, seen better days..... Two items took my eye this week, the Rugby Football Union 'Go Play Rugby' initiative and the fact that Wasps FC are looking to increase the capacity of the Wycombe Wanderers stadium they use for their home games. 'We need to play to bigger crowds', echoed head coach Ian McGeechan and new chief executive Tony Copsey.

The two initiatives do, however, seem to be contradictory.

I have said before to anybody who will listen that professional rugby has signalled the death knell of amateur club rugby in London, as I knew it. Even the introduction of a league system prior to that did not decimate the number of teams playing on a Saturday to the same extent.

Yes its true that mini and junior rugby participation continues to grow, but one must question whether this is breeding the players of tomorrow or the spectators?

Consider this scenario. When I played for Twickenham RFC our near neighbours and the local senior club, Harlequins, played to a few hundred spectators, more if they were playing a top Welsh club. Twickenham would field five or six teams and few people would be interested in watching the 'Quins ahead of playing for the extra 'B'.

Nowadays they play to 8-10,000 every week, and Twickenham, in common with other local clubs, are down to two, sometimes three teams. If ten percent of that crowd are potential rugby players that is the equivalent of 50 or 60 teams who have been lost to the playing side of the game. As well as 'Quins, London hosts Wasps, Saracens and London Irish, no wonder clubs across the region are finding recruitment so difficult.

Mini's day of course is Sunday, so they are free to watch their hero's and still get enjoyment out of their weekend runabout, and good luck to them.

So, Wasps, for one, wanting to match the 15,000 crowds which Leicester regularly get seems to be in direct conflict with this new RFU initiative to get more people on the park every Saturday. Surely they should be looking at different ways of tackling the problem in conjunction with the professional clubs. Why not play the games on a Sunday to allow people to turn out for their local club and still get to see a top game at the weekend? Consider doing the same for the block of England mickey mouse internationals which take place in November.

Now the professional product is so good, it appears that it may well be biting the hand that feeds it, as the gulf with junior rugby widens. This will only result in more foreign imports being attracted to the game, and the England side becoming weaker as a result. Is a half empty Twickenham the legacy of such initiatives, or worst, will more women get to go to games!!

Labels: go play rugby, harlequins, mickey mouse, twickenham, wasps, wycombe wanderers

  ¶ 4:09 PM 0 Comments

  Why why why Delilah? 'Camp Dick' will so be upon us. A convivial gathering of Trickie Dickies eclectic companions will celebrate his 50th birthday in 'Tosser' Quinns field. Its a camping weekend, complete with open fire, basic sanitation and pod tents. There is a yomp over the Yorkshire moors on Saturday to loosen off the muscles, although it finishes at a local hostelry where any remaining aches and pains can be nicely anaesthetised.


I have offered to run off the song sheets, and that got me thinking about the sad demise of communal singing. It really is a thing of the past.


I can remember the man in the white coat, Frank Rea at Wembley who conducted the crowd prior to the FA Cup final. The singing of Henry Lyte's famous hymn "Abide With Me" has been part of FA Cup Final tradition since 1927, but sadly the community singing died out during the 1970's.


'Beastie' , a joe public rugby cove from Old Whitgiftians, entered England supporter folk law, as the leader of the singing in the West bar under the self same stand at the old Twickenham stadium. This tradition was destroyed with the ground as Tony Hallett built his new concrete edifice under which were positioned four soulless bars which were modelled on the wind tunnels used to design the bouncing bomb. Clearly a testament to Halletts RAF background. He built himself a cosy snug in which to entertain his cronies, but 'Beastie' has been superseded by Karaoke machines.....so sad.


How many homes have pianos these days, and more to the point people in the household who can bang out a tune. Family sing songs with Uncle Albert on the spoons, and Auntie Vi on the piano are also a dying event.....

...as are the improptu sing songs around the piano in the pub. These too are vanishing as pubs become 'gin palace' or 'gastro' themed. I still harbour an ambition to walk in a pub, open the keyboard and bang out a tune everybody knows and can join in with. By the time I have learnt to do it, piano's will be extinct.


So Camp Dick looks like it will be a revivalist concert featuring the voices of some of Will Carlings old farts. These talented individuals normally perform on the H22 bus on the way to Richmond station, The Red Cow public house and ,initially, on the free bus to the game. Liberal lashings of London Price, Timothy Taylor's Landlord or a pint of the black stuff make them sound like the four tenors!

Labels: abide with me, beastie, camp dick, fart, twickenham, wembley, will carling, yomp

  ¶ 5:10 PM 0 Comments

  Show me the way to go home I used to think I was a long way from London when I drove past a Morrisons supermarket, although with their takeover of Safeway and the consequent rebranding of the stores, that is no longer the case.

Today I know I am up early when I follow a night bus along Chiswick High Road!! I have volunteered for some client supervision at 05:30 in Hoddesdon in North London, so an early start is required. Trouble is Hoddesdon is one of those pleasant market towns which isn't any more, and there is nowhere open within miles, so caffeine levels are running on empty.

More's the pity as I could do with a boost after the experience of Wembley stadium last night.

First the good news. Door to door it took me 35 minutes to get there, Brazil played some attractive football, the Brazilian women were in good form, and yes, the stadium itself is impressive. It is huge. Bigger than Twickenham, bigger than Croke Park and seems about the same size as Stade Francais, with which is shares a similar shape and feel.

Now the less than good news....Steve McLaren clearly watched a different game to me when he said on the radio this morning that England played as a team and it was a good performance. The side lacked pace and creativity, assets which the Brazil team showed in spades. Smith and Owen were ineffectual, and I hate to say it but Beckham looked a class above. Robinson is awful when handling crosses (or not) and his kicking was poor. Lampard is a waste of space.

The thing, however, which, got my cousin reaching for double Rhodiola, was the journey home. The stadium emptied pretty well but the queues for the various railway stations was painful. There appeared to be no extra trains, there did not seem to be any new developments at the stations which allowed for extra platforms, or indeed wider platforms, and the journey home took nearly two hours. Having taken six years to construct, would it have been too much to ask of Transport for London to have improved the support infrastructure? With Red Ken in charge it is probably asking too much....agggh I feel another rant Blog coming on.....Luckily when I did get back, Morans Hotel bar was still buzzing so I was able to have a couple of glasses of ale before retiring.

I was right about the lager, as there did not seem to be any bitter taps in the bars, and I also observed that footie fans seem to be more follicley challenged that their rugger counterparts. It does, however, seem to be out of choice.

Would I go again? Well to see Argyle or the Spurs definitely. Otherwise if there is no corporate hospitality or helicopter transfer available, I will probably give it a miss.

Labels: beckham, brazilian, hoddesdon, night bus, rhodiola, stade francais, twickenham, wembley

  ¶ 6:08 AM 0 Comments

  "I think you've had enough old son......." I am off to Wembley tonight for the England v Brazil game, and this, together with some incidents over the weekend, got me thinking about why football followers seem to be so much more aggressive than those of other sports.

At the family barbecue I referred to, there were a mixture of young people. Some from Liverpool had gone to school with Kieran at St Mary's, a Christian Brothers school, some who had gone to Merchant Taylors, next door . Others where at Uni (or Poly ;-)) in Liverpool and had come from other parts of the country, and some were work colleagues of Kieran from the Wirral and around. They all mixed extremely well, and people commented on how well mannered they were.

One poor girl had had a hell of a few weeks with boyfriend problems, and she got absolutely trashed. Rather than leave her to fall about the furnishings and smash the ornaments, two of her flat mates took her home, put her to bed and returned later to the party.

Sometime after that one of the St Mary's lads got some abuse from another of the boys there, and the St Mary's lads closed ranks and suggested to one of the rogues friends that it was time he helped him home, which he did. This passed off unnoticed by most people at the party.

It reminded me of my own experiences as an 'old fart' who regularly attends rugby internationals at Twickenham, in Dublin and in Paris. There are usually six of us, and we do like a drink. It is fair to say though, that in the 25 years we have been acting the fool, we have at worst made bus travel between Twickenham and Richmond noisy, and the ride out of Dublin on the Dart a joyous singing occasion. Any activity likely to provoke violence, either physical or verbal, is quickly stamped on by the group, and the offender parked in a corner and told to behave.

Why then is it not the case at football matches that there is not this same self policing? The tribal nature of the supporters seems to add an 'edge' to the whole atmosphere. It can't be associated purely with the Public school, grammar school, secondary school differential outlined yesterday, as many of the perpetrators are from good stock?

Personally I blame the lager, as we all know London Pride has no alcohol in it!!!

Labels: brazil, Dublin, england, London Pride, merchant taylors, Paris, Richmond, St Mary's College, The dart, twickenham, wembley, Wirral

  ¶ 2:32 PM 0 Comments

  Come on you Greens I am a huge Plymouth Argyle supporter, having supported them since 1962, when my dad took me to the Argyle v Spurs FA Cup 4th round tie at Home Park. How my dad got tickets I don't know, but he seemed to have the ability to magic them from somewhere, be they for England at Twickenham, Wembley or Lords. Its an ability I am pleased to have inherited, and look forward to going with my eldest son to Wembley in a few weeks time for the England v Brazil game.

I remember being devastated for a Royal Marine who offered my Dad ten bob for the two tickets, in the pub one night. i was really saddened that the poor man did not have a ticket of his own. Oh the innocence of youth.

Anyway back to Argyle. Today they broke their all time transfer record by paying £400K for a Hungarian international left winger, Peter Halmosi. Their squad now consists of three Hungarians, 3 French players, a Dutchman and an Australian, as well as several Devonians, and assorted Brits. It is certainly a sign of the times.

Given that Steven Gerrard has just been awarded £120K per week in wages though, paying £400K seems a bargain.

In the 45 years I have followed the Argyle, I have seen them win at Wembley and lose in three Cup semi-finals. In league terms they have fallen from the Second division, to the Fourth division and climbed back up to the Championship as it is now called. In all that time they have never played in a league called the First division. Next season is already being anticipated with great expectation, however, the recent slump of Nottingham Forest and 'dirty' Leeds only goes to show that expectations and achievements can be a million miles apart.

Labels: argyle, brazil, french, gerrard, halmosi, hungarian, lords, plymouth, spurs, tottenham, twickenham, wembley

  ¶ 5:51 PM 0 Comments