Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
It was an arching run up with trailing bowling arm and slightly unorthodox delivery action I mimicked on numerous occasions during my 1970's childhood. This then homage to Warwickshire and England cricketer Bob Willis ordinarily undertaken during 'Test Matches' my brother Ian and/or friends participated on the tarmac wicket of Dorchester Gardens, or dog dirt... Continue Reading →
A few days back I relayed recollections from my young childhood. While I mulled over a topic for today's prose my mother (whose house I'm currently residing in suggested I journal further memories from the same era........... Only funny ones this time. To be honest, what she really said “Was it you who ate that last... Continue Reading →
Prior to World War II (WWII), World War I (WWI) went by the moniker of the Great War. For a conflict which bore absolutely nothing great about it, a misnomer on the most grotesque scale. Calling it a war is even questionable in some commentators eyes. After all, the obscenity of some warfare strategies employed between... Continue Reading →
As a fan of the game who played club cricket for over thirty years it'd be remiss of me not to mention England cricket team's victory in yesterday's dramatic ICC World Cup final. A quite remarkable match where the tie was level after both the allotted 50 overs aside and the bonus six deliveries aimed... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, I ventured north to the Riverside cricket stadium in County Durham with a buddy of mine; the sporting smorgasbord provided by England and New Zealand's national teams. Both sides final group games; the victor's spoils the certainty of a place in the ICC World Cup semi-finals. Boarding the packed train from our thriving West... Continue Reading →
Yours truly is sitting on the bed in casa Strachan's spare room as I commence this monologue. My current domain, the smallest of the three upstairs chambers gracing my humble abode, which doubles as a man cave and occasional panic room. Its use as a panic room ordinarily manifests from a need to hide after forgetting... Continue Reading →
On several occasions I've penned about my teenage/early 20's cricketing days while playing at Gateshead Fell cricket club (GFCC). Examples of which can be read in the narratives GFCC Juniors – Class of ’80, Unreliable Tales From The Pavilion, The Crowd Went Wild! Among these literary recollections I wrote fondly of the treble-winning GFCC under-18 team of 1980,... Continue Reading →
I'd a rare break from writing yesterday. Leaving casa Strachan at 7.30am and not getting home until 11.00pm rendering opportunities of putting pen to paper nigh on impossible. My destination the city of Nottingham - Robin Hood's manor, domain made famous by Brian Clough, home of Boots the Chemist and place my late dad served... Continue Reading →
There's few things that rankle with a Yorkshireman more than defeat by sports teams representing the House of Lancaster. Witnessing Lancastrian 'troops' returning west over the Pennine Hills with a battle victory lodges in their trachea like a carelessly swallowed wish bone. Yesterday evening was a perfect example of this disenchantment by players and supporters... Continue Reading →