Pink is the new white

On Monday evening my son and his fiance, and my brother-in-law and son
ventured to Lords for the 20/20 game Middlesex v Surrey.

It is the biggest closest derby in cricketing terms and was supported by a good size crowd......the Middlesex players and club are supporting Breast Cancer charities this season so the kit and surroundings were coloured to reflect the theme.

Surrey batted first, but it soon became clear that Middlesex have become a very professional 20/20 side, and after restricting Surrey to 141, there was never a doubt that the youngsters in the home side would knock the runs off....they duly obliged. They now stand top with 4 wins out of 4. Four of their squad are 21 or under, Malan, Godleman, Housego and Morgan, and Smith and Shah have been missing recently through injury and England duties respectively.

There then followed a bit of celebrity hunting, and Matthew was luck enough to be caught with Andrew Strauss, while Jack Rowell and Paul Allott were seen in the outfield at close of play.

Baby boomers

I have always been intrigued by the way my life has centred on West London, given the various detours it has taken.

I was born in West Middlesex Hospital,on the Isleworth/Brentford border, and first went to school close by. I then moved to Plymouth, returned to London for further education (some would say that was a waste of time). After living in North, South and West London, I finally ended up living not a mile from my place of birth. Full circle in fact.

Now I notice that my place of birth, the very maternity ward in which I popped out into the world, is being knocked down, presumably to allow the Primary Care Trust (PCT) to earn some money for new and better facilities. Some of my oldest childhood memories are also associated with the old Victorian blocks which are fast being transformed to a pile of rubble.

I had my adenoids and tonsils removed in the late '50s, and remember being positioned next to the fish tank. It was my job to switch its light out every night when I went to sleep. The few times I forgot, I was given a right telling off by the ward sister. I also remember being dressed in a cowboy outfit to go down to theatre, as part of a cunning plan to take the fear out of the procedure and make it seem like a good old adventure. The next few days I had nothing but ice cream and jelly, so it can't have been all bad.

Now where did I leave that pen I was just using, and what were the names of those people I was with last light? Funny thing that memory.