Friday, 23 June 2017

A National Treasure

A term used far to often in my opinion, but after the sad news today I'll jump on the band wagon! Henry Calthorpe Blofeld, or just simply "Blowers" to his many legions of fans is hanging up the microphone after a whopping 45 years covering TMS.

Now I must confess that I'm no expert Cricket statistician, but I simply adore TMS and this man for me is the voice of Cricket, not unlike that late Sir Peter  O'Sullevan who was the voice of racing for many.

I've always enjoyed sport on the radio, be it Cricket, Boxing, Golf et al. To me it's far more intimate than the TV. Blowers himself today described TMS as "company" and I suppose it is for many. Before I met Denise I did not own a TV, she was incredulous when we spoke about it.

She asked " What do you do in the evenings?"

I replied "Masturbate".

In that instant I knew we would marry. The look of love in her eyes, or was it disgust? Sold it too me? Even now I seldom watch TV, on my lap top and listening to the radio is my thing, while she watches East Enders. She is supposed to be the brains of the outfit, seeing that her work is Psychology, while I'm just a barra boy. But Radio 4, or a group of people shouting at each other, I win hands down surely.






A guy I work with today, our brief conversation went like this.

Me " Tom did you hear Blowers is hanging up the Mic"

Tom" Yes mate, but I prefer Sky Sports coverage over TMS"

Me" Call yourself English? Just Fuck off".

A bit near the mark, but even though I've smoothed off some rough corners over the years I'll not change. As my Mum says. " You can take the boy out the East End, but you can't take the East End out the boy". Very true.





TMS is indeed very special to many people and not just for the Cricket, it's life's observations and humour. It's like Cream Tea's, Summer Fetes, Morris Dancing and Warm Beer all rolled into one and much more besides.

Blowers, you will be missed. Simply thank you!

Be Lucky

Monty D

Saturday, 17 June 2017

Plug Monkey

Yeah that's me a plug monkey, love to use them. Soft plastics may catch me more fish, but fishing that way can send a glass eye to sleep. Yesterday was a last minute change of plan. The stretch I intended to fish was full of old boys, dozing off and waiting for the 'Pin to scream into life, chatting about the halcyon days of Adams Mill and how much they hate Otters.

Went to my Perch stretch, but after ten minutes it did not feel right. I could not settle, don't ask me why. Thinking about where to go, I yomped up to a weir pool that has not seen me cast a line into it for around eight years.

Difficult to access and not the most comfortable place to fish. It's a snag pit, so decided to use small shallow diving plugs. Had a great six hours sport for an opening day that often leads to disappointment.


I managed  six Jacks and four Chub, only the one fished photographed for blog purposes as you are fishing standing on three rocks. You need to slide down the bank to access this, so unhooking the fish in the water and slipping them back is the way to go. Climbing up and down is a no, no. And it's certainly not an area to fish in the wet. Trust me I've been in here before when there was a few feet on, not something that I would like to experience again.

Now Pike, are they thick? They just nail the lure, bosh way back down the throat. I did have a low double launch itself clean out of the water to my left, miss the lure and tail walk. Like I said thick. Chub on the other hand can be mind bending, four Chub landed, but loads missed. Very gentle takes, some mouthing the lure not unlike Carp with crust, then turning away. Perhaps closing my eyes is the way to go, stop watching the lure and wait for a bang. No fun in that though, happy enough with the day it was good to be back out.




I dropped a right bollock in the week. Last Saturday the day was spent listening to the Cricket and England through to the semifinal against Pakistan. Now tomorrow is Fathers Day and we were supposed to go and visit  Denise's parents for lunch. But the Cricket final is also tomorrow, so confident was I of beating Pakistan on Wednesday I said "I'll do a BBQ babe, get them all around here". And then we fucking lost. So now I'll be cooking Jerk Chicken, Jerk Pork and the whole shebang for sweet FA.

It's going to be a scorcher tomorrow, so I thought slipping this tune in would be apt. One of the best political songs of all time in my opinion.

Jah Bless.    




Be Lucky

Monty D