THE CRICKET WEEKEND.

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.