THE CRICKET
WEEKEND. The recent test against Pakistan at Optus reminded me of some cricket watching days with some mates in the 1980s. What follows is a composite of several such weekends at the WACA. Bill, Fred Kevin and Norm are not their real names. I am not really in this story, though some of the things that happened, happened to me.
Bill, Kevin,
Fred and Norm lived in Donnybrook. Bill was a Donnybrook businessman who owned several
shops in the town. Kevin was a farmer, Fred worked in the building industry and
Norm was on the staff at the Donnybrook District High School. In the very late 1970s
and early 1980s, after the Packer Revolution, they would travel to Perth on a weekend in January for One Day
International Cricket matches featuring Australia and some international side. In
those days it was usually the West Indies.
They took
turns each year to drive their car to Perth for the cricket weekend. This year it was
Bill’s turn. Leaving Donnybrook around 7-00am on Sunday, they would arrive at
the Shaftsbury Hotel around 9-30am. The Shaftsbury Hotel was a large, old style
Perth pub that in recent years had modernized some of its many rooms in the
style of motel accommodation. They always booked a family room which consisted
of a large bedroom with a double and single bed. An archway linked to another
room that had two single beds. Each year they took turns to have the double
bed. This year it was Norm’s turn.
They had arranged
for a 10-00am check in and hurried to their room to unpack their cases and hang
the slacks, sports coats and shirts they intended to wear to a Northbridge bar
and eatery later that night. As he unpacked his case, Keven exclaimed, “Oh, no.
I’ve left my wallet at home.” Kevin was a farmer in Donnybrook. His dutiful
wife always carefully folded his clothes and packed his case. Obviously, she
assumed Kevin would look after his own wallet.
“Not to worry,
“said Bill.” Here’s fifty dollars for the day at the cricket. We can work
something out afterwards.”
They hurried down the stairs and caught a taxi to the WACA where the game was
scheduled to start at 10-30am.
Bill knew
the bar manager of the Inverarity Stand. At about 10-20am he would knock and
the rear door and he and his mates would be ushered into the empty bar before
the main doors opened. They always occupied a table behind a huge glass window
right at the front of the Inverarity Stand; a prime position which afforded a
splendid view of the match.
Of course,
besides watching the cricket, Bill, Kevin, Fred and Norm indulged in that other
national pastime, beer drinking. They were very good at it. They started buying
jugs of beer as soon as the bar opened at 10-30am. As one jug emptied one of the boys would be
off to buy another one.
On one cricket
weekend, they pondered whether they should stop drinking for a while.
Eventually, Fred said, “Well let’s have jug while we think about it.” They did
have another jug, after which, they decided to keep drinking.
On another
occasion, they had actually decided to have a one-hour break in their drinking.
They were just finishing their last drinks when two other fellows from Donnybrook
came to their table. "G’day.
How’re you goin’. Looks like you blokes need a couple of jugs.” With that the
newcomers plonked two full jugs on the table and the drinking carried on.
Understandably,
when the ODI finished at around 5-30pm, the four fellows from Donnybrook were
decidedly merry. In an attempt to return to sobriety, they walked from the WACA
back to the Shaftsbury. Next to the
hotel was paved laneway that eventually became the enclosed Shaftsbury Arcade
that went through to Beaufort Street and to what in those days was the
Canterbury Court Ballroom.
On the
other side of the laneway was a two-storey block of flats. This laneway had a
certain Neapolitan look about it as four clothes lines, often containing
brightly coloured towels, sheets, shirts and ladies’ lingerie extended across
the laneway from the top storey. Quite often, after a windy night, items of
clothing finished up on the pavement. There must have been a lot of young
ladies living in those flats because the Donnybrook boys were often delighted
to spy sexy briefs and lacy coloured bras on that laneway pavement.
They sat
around the table in the room, drinking stubbies they had purchased from the
bottle shop, talking about where in Northbridge they would go for a meal. They
reminded Bill that they did not want a repeat of last year’s night out. On that
night, upon entering a noisy Northbridge bar Bill had seen a lady he knew. So
enthusiastically did he lock her in a fond embrace that the lady screamed in
agony. Bill had fractured one of her ribs. They spent the next three hours with
the very upset lady in the Royal Perth Hospital Emergency waiting rooms. Bill
was lucky the lady did not want to make a big thing out of it. As she got into
the taxi to take her home an apologetic Bill gave her fifty dollars to pay for
the fare and any painkillers she may need. It was obvious she would need a lot
of painkillers.
They had
all showered and were just about to call a taxi when Norm, who had a history of
migraine problems, said that he did not think he would go. “My head is starting
to throb and I just know that it is going to get a lot worse. All I want to do
is lie down in the dark, “he told his mates. “Oh,
that’s not good, Norm,” said Fred. “Can’t you take an aspirin or something?” “I’ve
already done that, “replied Norm, “But it doesn’t really do much good with
migraine. You blokes will probably want to have a few drinks when you come home
so, I will sleep in one of the beds in the other room.” Then he turned to the wallet
less Kevin and said, “I’m not going out, you can take my money. Here’s $150. You
can pay me back on Wednesday night at the footy club.
“Gee, Thanks, Norm. I’ll do that for sure. You take care of yourself.”
Soon afterwards,
Bill, Kevin and Fred went down to their taxi and their pleasant evening in
Northbridge. Norm settled into his bed and turned off all the lights. He did not go to sleep because the back of his
head was being belted every five seconds by a bloke with a wooden mallet.
Norm was
staring at the green. glowing face of the bedside clock when he heard a knock
at the door. It was 8-30pm. Norm lay still and did not make a sound. Ten
seconds later the knock came back, this time followed by a female voice saying,
“Hi! It’s Cherie from Ace Escorts. I’m your eight thirty appointment.”
Norm did
not move. He knew what was happening. Bill, a known trickster, had set him up.
Above the two public phones in the hotel lobby were advertisements for taxis,
cafes, restaurants and escorts agencies. Bill had rung an agency for an 8-30pm
appointment to visit Norm.
Norm
listened as the knocking and the female voice grew more insistent. He had that hammer
belting the base of his skull. He had no money. He also knew if he opened the
door to explain the situation the escort girl’s minder would be nearby and
would quickly dish out some harsh physical punishment. Eventually, the knocking
stopped. The girl’s voice stopped. Norm just lay there while the hammer kept
pounding at the back of his skull.
The next
morning everyone was moving very slowly. Drinking strong coffee, sitting with
their heads in their hands. All except Norm. The migraine had finally stopped.
He’d had an alcohol-free night and was feeling fine. Nobody mentioned anything
about any escort services, but Norm had noted a mischievous smile move across
Bill’s face when their eyes met across the coffee cups.
There was
one humorous interlude. Fred suddenly put down his coffee cup and said, “I
forgot to call Shirley. I told her I would ring on Saturday night, but I didn’t”
He looked at his companions and asked, “Do you think I should call her now?” “Sounds
"Sounds like a good idea,” said Bill. “I mean, Shirley could be worried.” Fred
moved over to the phone.
“Hello,
Shirley. Sorry I didn’t call last night
“You did,” was Shirley’s frosty reply.
Bill and
Kevin could not hear Shirley’s reply, but they were laughing out loud. After a
very brief conversation with his wife, Kevin hung up and was told that he had
called Shirley in a one sided and slurred conversation when they returned from
Northbridge.
They decided
that they would have “brunch” at Mandurah on the way home and began, very
slowly, getting ready to leave. Norm was
dressed and ready first. He said, “Look,
time is getting on. You blokes leave out what clothes you are wearing home. Pack
your cases and I’ll take them down to the car so we can have a quicker
getaway.” They all agreed that this was a good idea and Norm was soon taking
cases downstairs to the car.
The trip
home was uneventful. They talked about the cricket, the weather, the evening in
Northbridge. Nobody talked about any escort girls. They had lunch in Mandurah.
Arriving in
Donnybrook, Bill dropped the other three at the car park near the railway
station where they had left their cars. As Norm shook hands and said goodbye to
Bill, he saw again that mischievous grin. As Norm walked over to his own car,
he wondered what sort of a grin Bill would be wearing when his wife opened his
travel case and confronted him about the lacy pink brassieres on top of the case of clothes.