Skip in reflective mood - December 19, 2004

What an exciting day on the Common in the South of the Thames. I am reminded of that great day almost six years ago when we nicked the race off Blackheath on their home patch by just eight points. For me, the Bels haven’t looked back since that day, and we have now come the full circle after what has been an incredible ride. Here’s to the next six years! Man of the match yesterday goes to what appears to be the diciest run of the day from Mike Trees, yet it was the critical one as he holed the winning putt. Although Mike was feeling awful, he refused to slip too far down the field. I enjoyed returning to some form, but see that I’ve started 'commentating' during races again. Can this, I wonder, be a detriment to my performance? I notice that every man I struck up conversation with, offered philosophical insights to, or merely verbally abused, went on to defeat me. Must be coincidence.

So this roller-coaster of a winter has reached the half-way point. What lies in store? Will there be some more memorable defining Belgrave moments to savour? I’m sure there will. With those to anticipate, here’s a trip down memory lane and my top 5 defining moments from the last five years:

Feb 5, 2000. Coulsdon. Our league deficit going into this final league match of the season was 74 points, but the manager had raised a hot team to have a real blast at Thames. This was a race not to be missed. My heart was thus in tiny pieces as two hours before the start I was politely sipping coffee with my boss in deepest, darkest Wiltshire! Finally I got out of there, averaged 107 mph the whole way to Coulsdon and arrived at Happy Valley at 2:48 pm. Phew. The Bels got off to an electrifying start, helped greatly by our mad but inspired captain (Roger), deciding to lead the entire field up and over the first rise. He may have paid a few places for his exuberance, but that’s called leading from the front. “We’ve got 9 in 17,” chirruped Alan at half-way. “But it’s not a 9 man race!” replied Coggie, and he had a point as Phil and I slugged it out back in the 30s. But it was enough to see off the mighty saltire, as Thames went down 108 points on the day and the league was ours for the first time in 28 years. Great euphoria. Man of the match: Rog.

April 28, 2001. National 12-stage. You couldn’t make it up. A dazzling team assembled in Sutton Park and the spotlight was on Kassa to get us off to a good start. He came in 35th, 136 seconds off the pace. Ouch. “It’s a 4 hour race, we can still win this,” noted the optimistic Don Anderson. After stage 5 we were still 105 seconds back, but at half-way, after a blinder from Gnasher we were up to fourth and just 49 seconds back. Enter Mark Miles who proceeded to rip us into a 10 second lead over Tipton. Amazing! Alsop, Barden, McHarg and Stewart then extended that lead to 35 seconds, to set up anchorman Lee Hurst. But what excruciating pressure for the poor boy to have Danny Gibbons tearing after him like a man possessed, and the Tipton lads running alongside Lee screaming into his ear: “He’s dying! He’s ****ing dying!!” And they weren’t talking about Gibbons. Lee’s was a lonely mission, with few friendly faces to cheer him along – we’d all drifted from the course to gather at the finish. We lost by six seconds, and yes, there were tears. But one thing was resolved right there and right then: we would be back. Man of the match: Gnasher.

October 27, 2001. National 6-stage. After a 50 year drought we were crowned National champions on the road again, in this marvellous race, that saw three epic duels: Paul Freary and Ben Whitby tearing chunks out of eachother on stage two as they scythed through the field; Al Stewart’s jubilant, stomach-churning showdown with Tom Hart on stage 5 in which Hart threw everything at Al, only for our man to reply: that’s all very interesting, but see here what I can do...; which meant it was all down to Spennyrunner. Remarkably the lead was the same as six months earlier: 35 seconds. Spen needed almost all of them as Mo Farah’s feet barely touched the ground as he gave valiant chase. But Spen had paced it to absolute perfection, and we won by four seconds. Man of the match: Al.

Feb 2, 2002. Coulsdon. This time going into the last Surrey League we had a juicy lead of 37 points. Should be plenty. My preparation for this race was even more erratic than two years ago as I went on a blind date the night before with a young lady my sister set me up with. A trainee vicar no less. But let me tell you – trainee vicars can drink! Even my taxi driver admonished me for my lack of sobriety as he dropped me home at quarter to six in the morning. Head still spinning, I wondered deep into the race why our supporters had suddenly turned into such a neurotic and hysterical bunch. “Were Looooooosing!!” they squealed. Rubbish, I thought. But we were. Comfortably. Enter the rarely sighted star man, Ray Foley, our tenth scorer to take out ten to fifteen bodies in the last mile to haul us back to parity and beyond. We won the league by a mere 6 points, and although I was one sick puppy at the finish, at least I wasn’t a guilty one too. Man of the match: Ray.

February 21, 2004. ECCA National. The cream of all days. Our first National win since 1948, and surely the hardest race to win in the calendar. Birhan’s terrific triumph in the women’s race gave us the feeling this could be our day, and Allen Graffin, Spen, Paul F, Gnasher, and Hassan all had inspired turns. But where was our sixth man? Slipping dramatically down the field, that’s where. A pea-green Steve Sharp wanted to come out the race as this brutal course was about as far removed from 1,500 track running as you could get. But Steve refused to quit, and saw us home a whopping 94 points up on Leeds. But never fear – had Steve fallen from the tightrope of exhaustion he was running, I was there to catch him 40 seconds back. Behind every great team, there’s a great reserve. I should know! Man of the match: Paul.