Marvellous

by Neil Baldwin

  After one of the goals I remember getting told off by the manager, Neil, for not marking my man properly. He was running, or rather walking, around with his fist clenched, telling us all to ‘get a grip’. I think the match was also delayed a few times because Neil had trouble keeping his shorts up. The rest of us found it rather difficult to take this on-field humiliation as seriously as the captain was doing.

  NEIL

  Linden has not got too much to shout about. Some of the goals were his fault. We didn’t play very well that day. As I kept telling the team, you can’t win football matches if you let goals in like that. They also say I forgot to collect the coach fares, which meant my mum getting quite a big bill, and I think I did. But it was a great day nevertheless.

  MALCOLM

  It may have been as a result of the coach bill that Mary decided that sometimes she needed to keep a much closer eye on the things Neil was organising. She also used to worry about his birthday parties and other events because sometimes the room hire might not be paid. She wanted to see what financial commitments Neil was entering into, because she was the one who had to pick up the bill. As a result she decided she needed to read some of his letters, but felt guilty about doing this, so she invited the local vicar round to steam them open, because she felt this somehow made it legitimate.

  Meanwhile, Neil continued his support for Stoke City. On one occasion in November 1975 Stoke City were playing away at Queens Park Rangers (QPR). My wife Lesley and I had arranged to go to the game and spend the weekend in London with friends. Neil asked me, ‘Are you going down for the game at the weekend?’

  ‘Yes, we’re going down to London on Friday night and making a weekend of it.’

  ‘Will you give me a lift down?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Can you pick me up from work?’ Neil was working at Woods Pottery.

  ‘Of course.’

  So we went first in the wrong direction to pick up Neil from Woods at the end of his working day before setting off to London.

  ‘Where are you staying, Neil?’

  He told us he was staying with a former Keele friend. I’m not sure, but it could well have been Tony Andrews, who was Neil’s main source of a London bed. It was somewhere well to the west side of London, a very large detour for us.

  ‘How are you getting out there, Neil?’

  ‘Can you drop me off there?’ We couldn’t say no and leave him to navigate the London transport system on his own. The only option was to drop him off at the address to make sure that he would be all right.

  ‘Of course, Neil. What time is he expecting you?’

  ‘I haven’t arranged a time.’

  ‘He does know you’re coming, doesn’t he, Neil?’

  ‘Er, no, but he won’t mind me coming to stay.’

  ‘But what if he’s not there, Neil? Suppose he’s gone away for the weekend or something.’

  This possibility had not entered Neil’s mind but it didn’t seem to worry him. However, we began to worry about what Neil would do if he wasn’t there. We knew that the friends we were staying with hadn’t got any spare room.

  We drew up outside the house and Neil walked up the path. I waited to make sure that somebody was there. We saw the door opened by Neil’s would-be host, and noted the surprised look on his face when he saw Neil unexpectedly on his doorstep. We decided not to hang around.

  When I next saw Neil, I learned that, after a fine breakfast, his host had kindly given him a lift to QPR’s Loftus Road ground before the game. Neil had waited outside the players’ entrance, as was his wont, and, inevitably, been given a complimentary ticket by one of the players.

  After the game, which Stoke lost, he somehow managed to blag a lift back on the team coach, where I imagine he shared the players’ tea. After arriving back at the Victoria Ground, the late Ian Moores, one of the Stoke players, who scored that day, and who lived in Silverdale, diverted via Keele on his route home to drop Neil off.

  So Neil was back in the Keele Students’ Union by about 9.30 p.m. on Saturday, having left work at 5 p.m. the night before, gone to the game and, as far as I can see, hadn’t spent a penny in the process. Not a lot of people have ever done that.

  NEIL

  I started getting interested in the Boat Race through watching it on TV, so I decided to go down there. I stayed with Tony Andrews. I have always been a big Cambridge supporter. I used to go from the Thursday to the Saturday of the race and got to know everybody, including all the crew.

  I got to know Alf, who was in charge of the boats, and went round to his house. He was a very good friend of mine. He got me an invitation to go on the official Cambridge launch. I also got invited to the Boat Race Ball, which used to be at the Savoy Hotel.

  MALCOLM

  How on earth did he do that? I don’t know. But one of the things I know he did was to write fan letters to members of the crew. It must have been heart-warming to get a letter out of the blue saying what a great oarsman you are. Some of the rowers were from other countries, particularly the USA, and probably didn’t have family here, which perhaps made it easier to give Neil an invitation to the launch or the ball.

  I can remember him telling me that he was going on an official launch in March sometime in the seventies. To be honest, I thought it was a bit of Neil exaggeration, but soon realised it probably wasn’t when I saw him on TV. If Neil tells you he’s going to do something, it’s rarely wise to dismiss it, however unlikely it seems.

  Steve Russell also saw Neil on television in 1975. Steve arrived at Keele the previous September and was to become another of Neil’s friends and admirers:

  I had heard of a character who went around the student flats drinking coffee and borrowing books, which he then exchanged with the next student. I was a fresher and went to the sports centre to see if there was any rowing, but no luck. On my way back I struck up a conversation with what I assumed was a fellow student, who informed me that he went to the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race every year and was very interested in rowing. I later found out the person I had been speaking to was Neil Baldwin and was told not to pay attention to whatever he said.

  In March I was at home settling down to watch the Boat Race on telly. There used to be a special [TV sports programme] Grandstand on then that covered it all afternoon. Watching Frank Bough interviewing on the towpath, I saw a familiar face trying to get his attention to be interviewed – Neil Baldwin. I always believed everything he said after that.

  Not only did Neil go on the launch, but he invited guests to go with him. Vic Trigg recalls:

  In 1977 and 1978 Helen and I were honoured to go on the official Cambridge launch. Tony Andrews was also there in 1977 and Neil’s mum Mary was there too. Both universities had a launch, which were like pleasure boats and followed the crews. We have got a photograph of Mary on the launch wearing a Keele scarf.

  Chris Ballieu was president of the Cambridge University Boat Club in 1973, having been given his first ‘blue’ in 1970, and has been Neil’s contact for the Boat Race ever since that time:

  I live in Putney, so I keep in contact with the boat club and the crew at the Boat Race each year. I always know first hand what’s going on. I think that’s why Neil always rings me to tell me when he’s coming down. What he really wants is a chance to have a word with the crew, although this is not always easy to arrange because they’re kept apart in the days before the race. It’s a matter for the president, not me, and of course there’s a different president each year.

  He doesn’t have a formal arrangement with the boat club, but has stayed in contact with me all these years. He’s a fixture. He’s Cambridge’s most loyal supporter. Information about Neil gets passed by word of mouth each year. When he comes he always asks after other crew members from the past, for example, David Mitchell, who was a crew member in 1971. Neil took a particular shine to him and still asks after him. He also asks after Ben Duncan, who was in the crew in 1973, and was president the following year. />
  I can’t recall exactly what happened about Neil going on the Cambridge launch. Nowadays there are strict regulations that won’t allow more than twelve people on the Cambridge launch on the Boat Race day, and it’s very difficult to get onto it. For example, there’s a ballot among former Blues for a single place. They can take more passengers than that, but are not currently allowed to. So I don’t think even Neil with all his persuasive powers could get on it today, but I think these more restrictive rules weren’t introduced until the 1980s.

  Although there’s a separate umpire’s launch these days, back in the 1970s the umpire travelled on one of the university’s launches, alternating each year between Oxford and Cambridge. The umpire would be provided by one of the boat clubs, but would undertake his duties from the launch of the other one. I think it was in the 1980s that the umpire’s boat was introduced. So it’s quite possible that he was on the same launch as the umpire.

  There used to be a Boat Race Ball, but that died the death round about 1971 or 1972. A different type of ball was recreated by myself and others in 1973–74 and it lasted for about ten years. It’s quite possible that Neil attended one or more of these balls. If Neil thinks that one of them was held at the Savoy Hotel he might well be right.

  Back to the Neil Baldwin Football Club, and Steve Russell recalls an internal NBFC game in the late 1970s and the sighting of another famous sporting personality:

  In my final year at Keele, 1977–78, I was involved in a football match arranged by Neil. I was drinking in the bar when I became aware of an animated discussion between Neil and some residents of D Block. They’d been bragging that they could beat any team that Neil could get together. Having been recently beaten by them in a five-a-side match, playing for E Block, which was settled by a disputed penalty, I agreed to play for Neil’s team whenever called to do so.

  Several weeks later, on a Sunday morning after a heavy night, there came a knock on my door. It was Neil with his kit, waking me up to play in the game.

  At the sports centre, the changing rooms for home and away had a communal shower, which you could walk through. In one changing room were Neil and me and in the other a full team. Neil went out for a minute and to my astonishment returned informing me that Geoff Hurst, who scored a hat-trick in the World Cup final, was in the corridor. I knew that Geoff Hurst had played for Stoke City and ran a local pub. I went out and was relieved to see Geoff Hurst in cricket whites, not football kit!

  Venturing onto the field of play, I was surprised to see an old neighbour of mine, Kev Brennan, the captain of the first team at Keele. He informed me that they were to play with Neil, that the goalkeeper was going to be late and could I take his place?

  At kick-off, Kev reassured me that I wouldn’t have anything to do. The next thing I did was pick the ball out of the net. ‘Right,’ said Kev, ‘that’s it – no mercy!’

  From then on Neil’s team dominated the game. D Block never touched the ball and every chance was set up for Neil to score. He got about three or four goals. He was presented with a trophy for ‘Man of the Match’ by his mum and an ex-Stoke and England player.

  NEIL

  Steve hasn’t got that story right. It was F Block we played, and we won 8–4. We played them two years in a row and I scored in both games. I always score.

  Steve Benn used to play for the NBFC, too. He was the son of the then Labour cabinet minister Tony Benn and he was at Keele in the early seventies.

  So, on one of my trips to London in the mid-seventies, I went to the House of Commons and sent in a ‘green card’ for Tony Benn with the message, ‘Neil Baldwin from Keele, friend of Steve’s.’ Tony Benn came out to see me and naturally took me for a meal in the Commons restaurant.

  MALCOLM

  He certainly did. I heard about this from the late John Golding, who was the MP for Newcastle-under-Lyme at the time and also a Keele graduate, so naturally he knew Neil, who was one of his more colourful constituents and a strong Labour supporter.

  John Golding also hated Tony Benn – Golding was the fixer for Labour’s right wing, and Benn the leader of the left.

  John used to tell the tale of arriving at the restaurant and being astonished to see Her Majesty’s Secretary of State for Energy dining with Neil Baldwin. He didn’t know about the Steve connection and was mystified as to how this could possibly have come about. He waited at the door feasting his eyes on this extraordinary scene for as long as he dare before departing because he didn’t want to be spotted by Neil and called over.

  Stephen Benn had met Neil Baldwin in his first year at Keele, which was 1969–70:

  I suppose I came across him in the same way that so many people did – he was just there. I might have first talked to him outside or inside the Students’ Union building. He was very welcoming and, while it was clear from the beginning that he wasn’t a student, he seemed to be a permanent fixture. He was always friendly and unfailingly courteous. He never seemed to take offence and I was one of those (and there were many) who talked to him whenever we came across him. He always seemed to call me ‘Steve’, though no one else did.

  I suppose I ought to add that some (though only a few) students in my year disparaged him and thought him ‘strange’ and ‘simple’ and they would sometimes poke fun at him. But I never did and the more I got to know him the more genuine he seemed. He had no ‘side’ at all and he was always friendly and open, and you just sort of got to know him as he was – because that’s who he was.

  I used to play a fair amount of football and that’s how I first came across the Neil Baldwin Football Club. I need hardly add that the president was Neil Baldwin. He organised some games and I was invited to play.

  He would be the first to admit that he wasn’t fast and would have trouble keeping up with a game. Often, people wouldn’t pass to him, yet he was always there running as best he could up and down the pitch. But the point was that he enjoyed it and it was his team and he made it all possible.

  Apart from being president, there was one other privilege that he always exercised. It was Neil who took the penalties. I remember in one game a penalty had been awarded and Neil duly stepped forward to take it. However, he didn’t strike it hard enough and the goalkeeper didn’t have much difficulty in saving it – indeed, he couldn’t avoid saving it. But the referee whistled for a retake and Neil had a second chance. This time he hit it better and I think the goalkeeper made an exaggerated attempt to save it by diving over the ball. Neil had scored his goal and he positively beamed with pleasure. It was a moment like that when you couldn’t help but be a proud participant in the game.

  I also came to realise that he never made anything up. When he said that such-and-such was going to happen it invariably did.

  On another occasion the NBFC was playing a ‘home’ game at the Keele [University] Sports Centre and Neil had announced in advance that we were going to play in Stoke City football kit. There were a few doubters, followed by looks of amazement when we got to the game to find Neil handing out real Stoke City football shirts. It was amazing.

  I’m not sure exactly when Neil met my dad. Certainly my dad came to speak at Keele in 1970 – and addressed a packed auditorium – so I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that he just went up to him and said hello, as he did with so many people. Perhaps Neil was around my graduation ceremony in 1973, when both my parents were there, and simply came up and introduced himself. However, it might equally be the case that they hadn’t met at all – not until Neil showed up at the House of Commons in the later 1970s.

  Neil arrived at the House of Commons one evening – in those days there wasn’t the security system in place that there is now – and just walked in through St Stephen’s entrance and up into Central Lobby. There he went to the desk and put in a ‘green card’ for Tony Benn MP. He was then in the cabinet. My dad was in the House and came out to meet him. Neil explained that he was ‘a friend of Steve’s’ and on that basis alone my dad took him in and they had a talk. It wa
s typical of my dad that he should have done this and devoted some time to someone that he quite possibly had not met before.

  The fact that this incident occurred was only known publicly because the local MP for Newcastle-under-Lyme, John Golding MP, noticed Neil and my dad together and doubtless wondered how it had come about.

  My dad phoned me later to report what had happened and said he’d met a ‘friend of yours’, though I could tell by his voice that he hadn’t been sure that he was a student in my year – but I explained that I did indeed know Neil and I thanked him for having made Neil welcome.

  NEIL

  Tony Benn was very nice to me, and so was Steve, who I’ve kept in touch with. I was very sad when Tony died in March 2014. It was funny that John Golding didn’t come over to say hello when I was having dinner with Tony. He’s right: if I had seen him I would have made him come over. It’s no good Labour MPs not being friends with each other.

  MALCOLM

  In 1976 I left Keele University. I’d been there since 1964, first as an undergraduate including a year as Students’ Union president and then as a research fellow. We moved to Manchester. Three years later Professor W. A. Campbell Stewart retired as vice chancellor of the university, and Neil rang me to tell me who had got the job.

  ‘It’s Professor David Harrison from Cambridge, and he’s a very nice man.’