When I decided to name my cancer Rupert I thought I was a groundbreaker with such a clever name. This week some nark sent me a photo of a dude in England who labelled his cancer Rupert in 1994! Had I known that this bloke had usurped me, I would have called my invader Murdoch. At least then, if I manage to outlive the old prick that is Rupert, I could have kept that name when his heir apparent Lachlan assumes the throne. He appears to be a real “chip off the old block”.
The next week will establish where we are headed with Rupert. I have another Bone Scan on Thursday which will be compared with the one one I had in November to see if the spread has continued unabated or slowed down a bit. The following Thursday I have my first appointment with the Oncologist and whether I start Chemotherapy will be dependent on what this weeks Bone Scan shows🤞🤞
I’ve taken a liberty with this week’s Blog and it is a bit self-indulgent. Earlier this week I was posed the question “what was your first big trip?” and it got me thinking. Hope you aren’t too bored.
My First Big Trip? I guess that depends on your definition of “big”. For me, three trips stand out as milestones and are what I consider to be “big trips”.
1969 Brisbane: Interstate travel was never a consideration for me growing up and in 1969 I had my first opportunity to head over the boarder. Not by plane mind you, but by train. Mum was really protective of me as a kid. Perhaps that explains why I’ve been a bit overprotective as a dad and a granddad in later life. I wasn’t allowed to play Football of a Saturday until I was in the Under 18’s and she wouldn’t let me play for Bendigo in the Victorian Provincial Baseball Championships conducted annually on the Queens Birthday long weekend in June, until I was 15. As a 14 year old I was invited to try out for the Victorian Under 16 side but Mum refused to let me go. The next year my brother Johnny convinced her to cut the apron strings and let me have a crack at getting in the team. He drove me to Melbourne every Sunday morning in June and July of 1969 to attend selection trials and then training at Debney’s Park just off Mount Alexander road in Flemington.
The Australian Championships were held at Newmarket in Brisbane, home of the ABL’s Brisbane Bandits in the September School Holidays of 1969 and I had my 16th Birthday on the Trip. We travelled by overnight train from Melbourne to Sydney, spent all day wandering the streets of the City then caught the overnight train to Brisbane. Traveling Second Class meant we slept on seats, on the floor and in luggage racks. No hotel accommodation for us in those days – all players stayed with host families – and by what turned out to be terrific stroke of luck – I was billeted with Bruce Nunn, a guy from Essendon Baseball Club. A friendship developed that led to me spending a life time with Essendon and subsequently six Edwards men representing the Club and Victoria. I went to the Championships as the Clean Up Hitter for Victoria and came home with my tail between my legs after hitting about a buck twenty five.⚾️ As was the norm back in the 60’s 70’s and 80’s Victoria won the Championships and despite traveling by train, getting billeted out and having a shocking time with the bat, I loved it and wouldn’t have had it any other way.
A proud Victorian wearing number 5, a number subsequently adopted throughout their careers by son John and Grandson Mitchell.
1976 Noosa Heads: In the 1975/76 Cricket Season I won the Bendigo Advertiser Cricketer of the Year Award and received a Holiday at Noosa Heads courtesy of Barry McNaught’s Travel Centre. No train trip this time however – to get to Noosa we had to travel by bus! I had married Robyn in May of that year and used the trip as our honeymoon. Noosa was virtually undeveloped in those days and we loved the place – the bus trip not so much. Too this day I have never been back to the Sunshine Coast but I would guess it might have changed a little bit! With the benefit of hindsight, maybe we should have bought some land there on that trip😄. I loved cricket in those days but when Melbourne Baseball switched to summer as the main season in 1976 I had to choose between Baseball and Cricket as my sport of choice. Baseball won out and I’ve never regretted my decision.
I only recently discovered that in the 50 years of Bendigo Cricket from 1940 to 1990, only two bowlers captured 7 wickets or more in an innings on three occasions in any one season. One was the Hall Of Famer, Hank Watts for Sandhurst and the other was an opening bowler for Bendigo. Our Premierships there in 1976 and 1977 remain two of the highlights of my life.
1978 Hobart: The significance of this Trip was that it was the first time Robyn and Myself had been on a plane. That’s right, 24 years old and never been on a plane – my six year old Granddaughter and eight year old Grandson just returned from their third overseas trip having gone to Japan for a skiing holiday. I guess times have changed a little🤔 My nephew Brendan had been selected in the Under 13 Victorian Team for the National Baseball Championships to be played during January of 1978 in Hobart. The games were played at the North Hobart Oval and as you would expect, Victoria were crowned Champions. Robyn was pregnant with John that trip and my everlasting memory of the trip is just how bloody cold it was. Snow fell on Mount Wellington during our stay and to paraphrase Mark Twain, “the coldest winter of my life was that summer week spent in Hobart.” History will record that Brendan’s team, coached by the legendary Dick Mason and managed by Keith Sheldon Collins, contained some of the greatest players to ever wear the Victorian Cap.
Nephew Brendan sucking up to the Coach sitting on his right hand side (not that there’s anything wrong with that😄).
An honourable mention for “Big Trips” belongs to a 1974 Christmas – New Year holiday spent camping with my Brother Johnny, Sister-in-law Dot and their kids in Nelson on the South Australian border. The plan was to spend the week fishing and lying on the beach but the best laid plans…… I played cricket on Boxing Day for the Bendigo Rep Team in Maryborough in the annual Kenmak Shield match and at the conclusion of the day’s play set off on the 310 kilometre drive to Nelson. About 10 k’s out of Maryborough a stone went through the windscreen of Dad’s pride and joy, his pale blue Hillman Hunter. Now Hobart in January can be freezing but I swear it doesn’t have a patch on sitting in the front seat of a pale blue Hillman Hunter for 300 kilometres with no front windscreen. After about 50 k’s Robyn wanted to hop in the boot for the rest of the trip figuring a death by suffocation preferable to a death from Hyperthermia. With hindsight, we probably should have turned around and headed back the 100 odd kilometres to Bendigo, had the windscreen fixed the next day, and then continued on to Nelson but I’m a pig headed bugger so we soldiered on. It rained in Nelson for the next 7 days! We made a couple of day trips to Mount Gambier when the rain eased up a little and whilst there was no beach cricket played because of the wet track we did get to watch a bit of the Boxing Day test on the 12 inch black and white tv we had in the tent. I can attest that “rabbit ears” weren’t conducive to getting an adequate television reception in Nelson in 1974.
Living With Rupert 