REMINISCENCES will flow like runs at Penrith Cricket Club next month when members celebrate the centenary of their Tynefield Park ground with a match with an MCC eleven.

Prior to 1907, cricket was played on Foundry Field, but conditions were not ideal, especially in high summer when the length of the grass forced batsmen to slog! Sometimes the ground resembled a hayfield, it was reported.

The prime mover in acquiring Tynefield as an alternative was the Rev. James Fell, the cricket-playing vicar of Christ Church, and another first teamer, George Arthur Rimington, barrister-at-law, became the club’s new landlord.

The ground — then a field among fields to the south of town — would have been lost to cricket but for the good sense of G. A. Rimington in refusing to sell it to Penrith Urban Council, who wanted to build houses on the land.

He said councillors would be “ill-advised” to take Tynefield for housing because Penrith, as a residential town, needed social amenities like a cricket club and ground and other sporting facilities.

The club bought the ground in 1947 and, although the purchase price was only £750, Penrith people lessened the financial burden by chipping in fivers, pound notes and half-crowns.

Among guests watching the special match on Sunday, 12th August, will be Mr. Gerald Caygill, Northampton, formerly a left-arm bowler with the club.

He was a personal friend of the late Ramnath B. Kenny, the Indian Test cricketer, who was the club’s coach-professional for three seasons in the 1960s.

On leaving, Ramnath gave one of his bats to Mr. Caygill, who intends to hand it over to the club as a pavilion exhibit.

STICKING THEIR NECKS OUT

Neckties were once a “must” for newspapermen working for the Herald.

We were told a reporter could not be sent to cover a posh event, or to interview Lord Lonsdale or the council chairman, if he wasn’t wearing a tie.

Sloppiness of appearance was not acceptable to our bosses.

Now, it seems, there is a rebellion against the tie, with two top journalists — formerly followers of fashion — sticking their necks out by dispensing with neckwear.

Jeremy Paxman, controversial presenter of the BBC’s Newsnight, said of the tie: “It has always been an utterly useless part of the male wardrobe.”

And he was backed by Jon Snow, of Channel 4 News, who commented: “I think there is no future for the tie because it has been exposed to ridicule.”

Locally, too, there has been a noticeable decline in the wearing of ties. Sunday lunch at Penrith’s George Hotel, with about half the men not sporting neckwear, would once have made some diners distinctly hot under the collar!

Nowadays, however, the “open necks” pass without comment.

Complete discarding of the necktie is very rare, however.

Most men will still put one on if they are going to a funeral or a wedding or have an important meeting to attend.

ACTIVE IN APPLEBY

Life is never dull for members of the Appleby-in-Westmorland Society, which appears to have a triple role — ratepayers’ association, local history group and entertainment provider.

Society newsletters are a spicy mixture of controversy about local government and nuggets of interest about Appleby long ago. The latest issue contains a Herald report from 1879 about Sir Henry Tufton’s gift of a steam fire engine and the debate about its management and the setting up of a volunteer fire brigade.

The controversial content centres on Appleby Town Council concerns, such as the spectre of centralisation.

Graham Coles, as main observer of the local government scene, writes: “Central government continues to centralise. Our future? A non-elected Government Office North-West calls the shots by directing Cumbria County Council what to do and how and when to do it.”

His lively piece concludes: “We’re in the hands of Appleby Town Council, which, I’m sure, will find a way to look after us — one day — perhaps …”.

All is not doom and gloom in the ranks of the Appleby-in-Westmorland Society, however, for the next event planned is a fascinating one, a sundial safari, to be followed by “the sociable partaking of a small jar”.

Other towns, such as Penrith, may wish they were enlivened by this brand of sociable buoyancy.

THE APOLLO FACTOR

The inspiration to write takes many forms. A journey into the Eden Valley, perhaps, or across Orton Scar to enjoy the magnificence of the distant, cloud-speckled Pennines? Such beauty aids contemplation.

Or creative thoughts may be sparked by another publication — a local book, the Daily Telegraph, or saucier paragraphs in the magazine of the Inner Wheel organisation.

Another influence — a very personal one this time — is Apollo, a seven-year-old Italian greyhound and soulmate.

Nursing a dog while writing on a pad is a unique form of togetherness, and, inexplicably, the words seem to flow (as at the moment of penning these sentences).

Apollo is a silent companion, apart from the occasional sniff as he runs big brown eyes over the “copy”.

Black coffee and whisky help many hack journalists to find the right words, but just occasionally a chubby brown dog, sprawled across the left thigh, boosts the spirits and the literary fluency of this columnist!