Dave 'Dodgy' Jones (1954-2025)

 I heard the news yesterday that my great friend and social activist Dave Jones passed away recently. I can't say that I will miss him, as I have already had that experience while he has been shut away in a dementia care home in Teddington West London for close to 15 years. I visited on occassions when other reasons took me down South, but as is always the case, his memory of me or SWMBO diminished to nothing very quickly. One has no idea if the visits do register as certainly the exchanges indicate they do not, but I was advised to keep going as long as I was able, to keep the care home on their toes, and in case there was some cranial activity I was stimulating.

Dave was a long standing member of the Tuesday club, a group who convened at 9pm in The Prince Blucher in Twickenham, and pretended we had all been rugby training and needed a recovery pint or three. Clearly in our fourties, our rugby training days were long behind us, but the social couple of hours were always rich in stories and memories.

There were memories for SWMBO and I as well. We would often meet him in Paris when England were playing, although his allegiance was always to Wales!! We stayed in his apartment in Amsterdam and in Rome when his work with Cellnet took him away for months at a time, but most memorable, we were with him in Atlanta during the 1996 Olympic Games as he was liaison officer for Helen Rollenson of TV fame, and we were working in the Georgia Dome. Dave sorted accomodation and had a good knowledge of  Buckhead and its bars and restaurants and we had a real blast for two weeks. 

The World was always a livelier place with 'Dodgy' around, and I felt priveliged to call him my friend. May you finally be free .

Heave....

Goodness me its a bit chilly up here in Scouseland. That said, it was definitely brass monkey weather in London on Saturday. I am seriously in need of a spot welder.

I took it on myself to take the lads to Twickenham en masse, as the opportunity presented itself. So both sons, Tim and Kieran together with my nephew Matthew wrapped up warm and set off.....except Matthew but more of that later.

First stop had to be the Prince Blucher to allow the two boys a beer before kick-off. Then it was the standard hike through the Stoop to the ground and a chance for Kieran and Matthew to see their first England international game.

England got battered up front, and seemed unable to do anything about it. I still do wonder whether a plod at the helm is the right intellectual leadership criteria, and maybe new chief executive, John Steele , may think Johnno and Rob Andrew need some more help. It seems, though, that the latter is in more danger of dismissal.

With the game over it was back to the Blucher for more amber nectar, some friendly chit chat and back to our respective abodes.

So, Matthew was having his first taste of Twickenham and indicated that he had a good time. I did wonder though. The lad is only 12 and was at an all night party on the Friday ( well 22:30 which probably seemed like all night, I know it is for me these days!!), then he went to a paint ball party at 09:00 Saturday morning in Swindon, then to the match, then home.

He turned down the opportunity to wear his coat at the match as it is not cool to be so dressed up, I can't help thinking there is a Newcastle United supporter in their waiting to get out. That or he was hoping to catch a cold and have a few days off school in the snow.

Anyway, a good time was had by all, and when Matthews dad MSN'd us on the Sunday morning from Afghanistan I was able to tell him his son had been Bluchered, but the chance of turning him from a Wales fan to England had not worked so well due to the result. He indicated that it was good training for following the Dragon in the coming season of 6 Nations games. We shall see.

As part of the evening entertainment we searched out a few YouTube video's. Check out this one, a history of music in 3 minutes.

I told you so.....

I have been bleating on about the quality of the product on offer at Twickenham Stadium, as the England rugby team stumble from one shambles to the next. My prediction that the stadium will be half empty before the next World Cup has fallen on deaf ears as far as my chums at the RFU are concerned.

Today, however, in the Observer, Paul Hayward has taken up the theme, and I do wonder if he drinks in the Prince Blucher after the game, and has ear wigged my persistent bemoaning!

Wales and Ireland seem to be able to play exciting rugby even in adversity, England just cannot step up to the plate. I have no idea what the answer is although I do fear the lack of University educated players is on the decline as a result of professional rugby teams and their associated academy's trying to dumb down rugby intellect by brain washing the flair out of players.

The S Club 5 will continue to attend on a casual basis as the day, and indeed, the weekend continues to be a good craic, but the three Autumn Internationals are two too many for us already......I am reminded of the phone call once to Brentford FC....'Hello can you tell me what time kick-off is?......whenever you can get here Sir!'

Canon to left of them, canon to right of them....

You can read about the latest Six nations Rugby weekend on my chum Dicks blog here. The focus of the evening was once again centred on The Prince Blucher public house, and at the bus-stop as we waited for our big red carriage to take us home, Dicks son Robert asked who he was.

So who is he and what do I know about the pub?

Well, Prince Blucher was actually a Prussian field marshall who led his army against Napolean I the Battle of Nations at Leipzig in 1813 and at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 with the Duke of Wellington. Indeed had Bluchers army not intervened at Waterloo it is likely that Wellington would have been defeated. In that particular action, however, Bluchers army was directed there by General August von Gneisenau who assumed command of what remained of Bluchers army, after a defeat at Ligny. Blucher was trapped for several hours under his dead horse and assumed to have been killed in action. He dies in 1819 aged 76, however, in recognition of his service to, and support of Wellington, the British named a steam train after him. Better that than having to put your Bluchers on when it gets muddy!

So what of the pub? It has been in the ownership of Fullers brewery for many years. Rugby memorabilia adorns the walls and a plaque commemorates the founding of Twickenham Rugby Football Club in the pub in 1867. They no longer play their games on the green opposite the pub of course, but you can re-enact history during the summer months and bring your beer with you.

Members of the club still drink in there regularly, although it ceased to be the gathering place for the majority when 'Holty Corner' was removed to be shortly followed by the landlord John Geller, who subsequently moved over to the Sussex across the road. James, the manager who took over, was very tolerant of our Sunshine mountain at the weekend, although I think weight of numbers was in our favour!!

The pub used to have a bar top which was made up of old pennies, but the Health and Safety Executive had something to say about that and it was removed in the early Eighties . Some of it survives now in the Fullers museum in Chiswick.

It has sadly made the national news for all the wrong reasons in the last few years when Levi Bellfield, was recently convicted of killing Amelie Delagrange and Marsha McDonnell. Amelie was killed on the Green outside the pub.

Prince Blucher was also part of my life when we purchased a house in Waterloo, a suburb of Merseyside, just North of Liverpool. Not surprisingly there is a Wellington Street, a Blucher Street and Picton Road, named after Sir Thomas Picton, one of Wellingtons trusted lieutenants who was killed in the battle.

Colonel Fuller, commander of the King's Dragoon Guards, was also killed in battle, I wonder whether that influenced the brewery to recognise the battle in the Prince Blucher pub name?

Ashton-Under-Slime

Do you ever have one of those days? well, I think I did yesterday......

It started at midday when I went to the RFU office to pick up 3 duplicate tickets for the England v Wales rugby international, remember that word, duplicate. These were tickets which we were assured had been left in Cleakheaton, and they , therefore, gave three of my regular rugby colleagues the chance to bring three of their children.

This detour meant that I had to hot foot it to Richmond to join the drinking session a little later than planned. That went OK although the pub insists on showing football when it is full of rugby supporters. Given the match kicked off at 16:30 yesterday, I had arranged food at Zizzi's in the town centre. I booked for 13:45 thinking we could arrive about 14:00 and all would be sweetness and light. First crisis of the day, they had given our table (for 14) away aledging they had rung me to see where we were. They hadn't so we returned to the pub for more pints of foaming Pride and burger and chips 14 times!

Still we had the bus trip to the ground to look forward to, and after a fine rendition of Jeruselum, Sloop John B, Bloody Great Fishes are Wales, and others, we arrived in good time to take our seats.

Crisis number two. The three tickets left in Cleakheaton had in fact been posted by the owner to his son-in-law in High Wycombe, and he and his chums were sitting just where we had hoped to be. His father-in-law has a touch of Alzheimers, and had forgotten he had posted them on, so his problems are obviously greater than ours.

I watched the game from eight different seats as I got shuffled around the stand, and frankly after the second half, it was eight vantage points too many. Don't let any one eyed welshman cons you into believing Wales won, the stark reality is England lost. Do I really want to pay £68 to watch a product which is not up to scratch?

I should be used to it though, for years, the match has always been the low point of the day.

More disappointment followed though as Manchester United salvaged a draw with the last kick of the game against Spurs, and the Argyle crisis continued with a 1-0 defeatat home to Hull. As a point of interest these two cities, Plymouth and Hull, are the two biggest in the Country never to have experienced top flight football.

So as days go it was pretty harrowing, but all clouds have a silver lining, and following a very good sesh in the Prince Blucher, with all the right sort of company, and a few pleasant distrations, a bus came along just as we were leaving. That meant a quick call to the local takeaway meant it stayed open a few minutes late to allow the day to finish with the first food for over twelve hours.

Bread of Heaven, bah! give me Chinese of Chiswick any time!!!