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ABEL TASMAN has his sea,
Henry Hudson his bay and
river; JFK and John Lennon
(amongst many others) their
airport and Sir Clarence
Table his beautiful mountain.
Now Stuart Hardy is guaran-
teed a comparable measure
of immortality.
On the final Saturday of the
NCL season, the legend that is
The Legend was honoured
with a surprise party at
Orlingbury Road to mark his
50 years as an Isham player
And the highlight of the
evening turned out to be a
ceremony naming the club’s
bar in his honour.
Given that no-one has spent
more hours sitting or stand-
ing at it, or indeed serving .
behind it, you would be hard-
pressed to think of a more
appropriate accolade for the
old boy.
"I don’t even know whose
idea it was and they won’t tell
me," he explains.
"It was funny because on the
Thursday night before I had a
phone call from one of the
Heartaches players who was
on tour down in Cornwall.
"He said ‘The Leader’
(Heartaches CC founder Sir
Tim Rice) had just made them
stand and drink a toast to me
for my 50 years.
"But I didn’t twig what was
going on."
The multi-award-wirming lyri-
cist and cricket nut, who
brings his team to Isham
every year even penned a |
special message for the
occasion.
In it, he described Hardy as
‘my rabbit’ — but reckoned
that probably had more to do
with the club’s strong desire
to keep the fixture than the
potency of his bowling.
Over those five decades,
Stuart has been a one—club
man.
Well, almost.
“I played at Kettering in 1963
and 1964 — but still turned out
for Isham on Sundays.
"They were wonderful times
on the old ground (further
along Orlingbury Road
towards the village of Isham
itself).
"The grass used to be a couple
of feet high, and if someone
hit one into the outfield they’d
just carry on running while
you looked for it in the this-
tles!
"We had some great old char-
acters in the side, including
Eddie Leeson.
"He’d say ‘1et me know when
they’re in the middle of the
wicket’ and then throw the
ball in to try to run someone
out.
"When you pointed out that it
couldn’t possibly be the match
ball because we hadn’t found
it yet, he’d say ‘no, it’s the one
I had in my pocket!"’
The pavilion on the former
ground had no electricity
which famously meant
putting candles in wine
bottles to light the place.
Some would say the club’s
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almost religious devotion to
cricket’s social dimension -
with Hardy as the High Priest
- dates from that period.
“John (Scopes) and I would be
behind the bar It would get to
about one o’clock in the morn-
ing and we’d realise we had no
more candles. .
"But fortunately some of the
visiting teams knew that
would happen - and remem-
bered to bring their own!
"We used to play in the old
Mid-Northants League and
always said we’d stay in it
until we won it.
"That happened in 1966 (with
13 victories in 18 matches
including a ‘double’ over
Orlingbury with whom they
merged a couple of years
later) and after that we
switched to friendlies until we
joined the County League in
1980.
"When I went to Kettering it
was Scopesy who asked me to
come back because we had
permission to cut the grass! .
"I used to do it with my Mini
pick-up and a three-foot gang
mower It took me a couple of
hours to cut it, twice a week."
That’s devotion to duty for
you.
It goes without saying that the
ever-hospitable Hardy/ Scopes
axis continues to preside at
Isham, ensuring that yarns
(not exclusively of a cricket-
ing nature) are never in short
supply
The Hardy Bar awaits your
pleasure.
Article courtesy of Andrew Radd -
Northants Evening Telegraph
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