Lord's, the unusual home of chips and gravy

Matt, a friend of mine, tweeted me at 9.45am yesterday:

"Don't suppose you can get to lords for this afternoon? Just got a couple of extra tickets?????"

Hell yes. I requested a slightly earlier departure than usual from the office and set about trying to get hold of my wife.

Permission granted, favours owed. By way of car, cab, train and tube, I made it to the Grace gate at Lord's just in time for lunch. How terribly civilised, my dear old thing.

Our seats in the Allen stand gave us the view you can see in the photo above. Matt is a member at Lord's and had brought a works party along, two of whom had to drop out at the last moment, hence the spare tickets.

I have been to Lord's two or three times before, but only in the cheap seats on the fifth day of a test match. This was slightly different.

The members and friends areas (of which the Allen stand is one) positively vibrate with respectful bonhomie, and the people-watching provides as much fun as the cricket.

Lord's takes a relaxed view of spectators importing reasonable quantities of food and drink into the ground, so many bring a day's supply of nibbles (grapes and olives are very popular) and booze.

We were impressed by the gentleman sitting in the front row of our stand with a wine box perched in front of him on a piece of brickwork.

"I think he's been here before." said one of Matt's colleagues.

The atmosphere was almost tangibly courteous. Everyone was being as polite as possible to everyone around them. The stewards seemed to know the members by name.  The bar staff were chatty, service was swift and the beer was cheaper than a pint in my local in Walton on Thames. And the dress code, thank goodness, was relaxed - there were plenty of suits, but just as many jeans and fleeces.

The overall impression (and I don't want this to sound remotely perjorative) was that of a genteel private members club, which just happened to have an international sporting event ticking along on the lawn.

Why not? It was the first day of a four day game, the pace of play was steady ("old-fashioned" according to TMS) and for many of the people around me, this was not a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity. If you're a member at Lord's you can pop in to watch any game you want, any day, for free.

We watched Stuart Broad take six wickets, Matt explained to me the genius behind Chanderpaul's batting action and I spent five hours in the company of a dear friend I rarely get to see.

The first day of the first test of the summer at Lord's isn't just about what happens in the middle. It's an opportunity to greet old friends, make new ones and quietly celebrate the passing of the years, getting older and having fun.

Oh, and it's the first place in London I've found that does chips and gravy. So it can't be all bad.

Podcasts

Finally, finally, finally I have sorted out a podcast regime.

Why plod up and down on a treadmill listening to music when you can risk getting distracted by a particularly brilliant piece of speech radio and having some form of catastrophic accident?

Finding the time to choose the podcasts, work out how to download them into itunes, organise them into a smart playlist, download them onto an ipod shuffle, then work out how to scroll through them without a screen isn't exactly an achievement, but I did reward myself with a beer when I'd cracked it.

On the list:

Kermode and Mayo
Frank Skinner
Christian O'Connell
Chris Moyles
Chris Evans
The Word Magazine
Danny Baker

As you can imagine, I have learned a lot. Not just factoids (Girls Aloud are getting back together for their 10th anniversary in November, Pitman shorthand was referenced in Bram Stoker's Dracula, most people in Mumbai still call it Bombay), but also much about the craft of presenting.

I am relatively new to this having-a-breakfast show lark, don't forget, and hearing the best of the best doing what they do on demand is both a joy and an education.

The stand out presenter, perhaps surprisingly, is Frank Skinner. I say this as someone who hero-worships Danny Baker, used to adore Chris Evans, and maintains Chris Moyles is the best Radio 1 breakfast show presenter ever.

Frank's facility with language, timing, knowledge and ability to convert conversational ephemera into a succession of increasingly brilliant punchlines is almost painfully accomplished. Yes I know his skills were honed as a comedian, but the way he transfers them so effortlessly to radio should be a wake-up call for every lazy presenter.

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Whilst we're at it, other geniuses I've had the privilege of listening to down the years: Sara Cox, Russell Brand, Adam and Joe, Jonathan Ross, Phill Jupitus, Mark Radcliffe, John Inverdale and John Peel.

In case you think I am being disloyal by not mentioning the superb presenters on my own radio station, my admiration and respect for them is already on the record. Danny Pike, Joe Talbot and Sarah Gorrell make up the daytime schedule on BBC Surrey, and all are first class practitioners. Sarah and Danny are wonderful news presenters and Joe is a rare talent whose wit and easy confidence makes him a treat to listen to.

If you have any podcast suggestions, or particular local radio presenters you love, please recommend them. I must have a listen to that fella on The Eagle one day too...

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Diet update: Two days ago I weighed 12st 11lb. Today (admittedly after a personal training session, and before my protein-rich lunch) 12st 6lb. At this rate I'll be down to my target weight by Sunday. Though I suspect not.

Diet and fitness 2012

So I'm on another bloody diet again. Fed up with tipping the scales at least a stone heavier than I should be, I have embarked on my latest doomed attempt to Lose the Lard.

What's different this time? I have engaged professional help. His name is Dan, and he works at my local gym as a Personal Trainer.

The idea is to embarrass myself into losing weight. I don't have the motivation to stop eating and get fit for its own very obvious benefits. If I start handing over cash to someone to help me lose weight and I still fail to do so, then I am a fool.

I want to manage my foolishness downwards (eating healthier and losing weight) by taking the risk it might spike upwards (handing over cash and remaining overweight).

It's an even money bet.

I have written about Dan and gym culture in the forthcoming June edition of Surrey Life magazine. Dan showed me round a gym I joined earlier this year. Now we have formalised our relationship into diet plans and weekly workouts, it's time to go public. Not because I think anyone will be interested, but because it adds to the pressure on me to haul my sleep-battered body out of the studio/house and do something useful with it.

Since joining the gym in February I have got fitter and more toned, but I don't like being this big. As of this morning I weighed 12s11b. I would like to be 11s7lb by September. If I'm bulging with muscles into the bargain, great, but I'm not holding out much hope.

The diet is protein, greens and very little carbs, by the way. As my wife said "wholly impractical and unsustainable."

Downtime

I'm home alone. After this morning's four hour show* I went to Tesco to stock up for our trip to Devon, had a chat with the neighbours, then went inside to find... the house was empty.

I'm sure Mrs Wallis probably told me where she was going, but I can truthfully say not a scrap of that information has registered. My former colleague Ruth Liptrot (off of Channel 5 News, fact fans) held there was only so much information her brain could retain on any given day. I subscribe to this theory on a one-in, one-out basis. If you let irrelevant information in, something important could get edged out.

As a result I more or less held myself together during the show this morning, but returned with not the faintest idea whether the family would be home, and when I discovered they weren't, where they had got to.

I did know I was hungry, so I went straight to the kitchen and flattened a cheese sandwich in about three seconds. Then I made a coffee and thought... in a manner which I expect will chime with many of my early shift industry brethren... "there's a good chance of a nap here".

So I am now upstairs, in bed, with the curtains closed, listening to Cashier No.9, drinking my coffee, and hoping to slide into dreamless oblivion within the next few minutes.

My son learned to crawl yesterday, which is just the best, and I can't wait to see how he's doing today. But right now, I am about as happy as it is possible to get.

Cheers!

Nick

PS I did a pre-record with a scientist this morning on the subject of alcohol. Off-mike, she told me she hadn't touched a drop in ten years. Her explanation began with "I had a bad Eurovision. I blame the cucumber..."

PPS On air, we were discussing the onset of middle age. Vic from Worthing emailed to say he didn't know much about when middle age begins, but knew his had ended when people stopped saying "Oh look! Vic has fallen over" and began saying "Vic has had a fall".

* Four hours! Lucky I have an inexhaustible supply of brilliance.


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On the Mic - Surrey Life - March 2012

As promised, here is my first column for Surrey Life magazine, slightly re-written, because I can't leave things alone:

"3.45am. I present the Breakfast Show, six days a week, on BBC Surrey – and in order to be sufficiently present in both mind and body, I have to get up at 3.45am. It’s all anyone ever wants to know.

For the record, it’s okay. I’m used to it. I’m used to the rush of adrenaline that courses round the body from 6am to 9am, followed by the inevitable post-show catatonic trough.

I’m used to stumbling around Walton-on-Thames at three in the afternoon looking like a bag of spanners in the closest approximation to pyjamas I can get away with, assailing unsuspecting shop assistants with a series of half-formed yawns until I realise I’ve forgotten what I was there for in the first place.

But when I was offered the job of Breakfast Show presenter at BBC Surrey, I didn’t hesitate. Who wouldn’t want to present the biggest show on a newly-created BBC radio station in God’s Own County? People who don’t want to get up at 3.45am, I guess. Which is fine. We have a motto at work – sleeping is cheating.

The job itself is a doddle. A wise sage once told me the knack of being a radio presenter is saying something engaging, informative, intelligent and pithy, using vibrant, accessible language that will instantly strike a chord with thousands of people from wildly differing demographic groups and age ranges, every time you open your mouth. As I said, a doddle.

I have had the privilege of sitting in the presenter’s chair at BBC Surrey for going on three years, and the people I end up chatting with never fail to impress, astonish or move. I have also got to know more of the county than I ever thought possible. It’s sometimes very easy just to flit about in your own little bubble, but this job has taken me to all parts, from the urbanised commuter zones of the north, to the wilds of the east and south. For the last five years, I have been happily settled in Walton-on-Thames, with a patient wife and three delightful young children. 

I love this county dearly, so when Surrey Life’s fearsome editor suggested I hop on board, I was both thrilled and honoured. I hope you will find something in this column each month that makes you smile, reach for a stiff drink or possibly weep with pity.

And I do hope I might eventually tempt you towards tuning your radio to BBC Surrey of a morning. We’d love to count you as a friend."

You can read it on the Surrey Life website, too, of course.


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