#BTColumn – The Lighter Side of Mr Walrond

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By Rollins Howard

I was rather surprised to learn [recently] of the death of Mr Anthony Walrond, one of my school teachers at Harrison College.

Mr Walrond taught French and played cricket with the school teams and, as is the custom at schools, he was given a nickname.  He rejoiced in the distinguished sobriquet of ‘Cornflakes’.

I have no idea who bestowed that name on him or why, but that is how he was known to all the boys at school.

He used to play in a band called “The MelloTones” and he used the band’s van as his mode of transportation to school. This was a blue and yellow Volkswagen with the legend ‘The MelloTones’, emblazoned on the side.

He enjoyed a very harmonious yet respectful relationship with the boys and this was evident from his inter-actions with them.

On one occasion he turned up for his French class, quite obviously the worse for wear. On entering the form room he told the students, “Fellas, I had a real rough time last night, so sit down and keep quiet”, and saying this put his head on the desk and went fast asleep. For the entire duration of that period, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop in the room – a most unusual happening.

As I mentioned earlier, he played cricket with the school teams, both the Second Division and the First Division, and despite being a master on the team never usurped the authority of the captain. Unlike some other masters he would proffer advice rather than instructions.

Whilst engaged in a Second Division game away to Bristol Sports Club, at Old Coleridge, the second and final day, of the match was rained out.  It was one of the few occasions on
which the school team had been in a commanding position and the boys in the team were very disappointed.  

In those days when teams played away games the school provided transportation in the form of two (what we would now call ZR) vans. On the way back to town Mr Walrond told the van drivers to stop by a shop and proceeded to buy drinks for the entire group including the van drivers and Mr Blunt, the groundsman, who had accompanied the team.  

We spent quite a pleasant afternoon there compliments of Mr Walrond.

My most pleasing memory of his association with the team occurred during a First Division match.  Unfortunately, the name of the opposing team eludes my memory.

Around this same time Rediffusion (the local radio station) was broadcasting over its wired service a series of computerised boxing matches to determine who was the greatest heavyweight boxer of all time. This was a series to which all sports fans eagerly looked forward and names like Ruby Bob FitzSimmons and Jersey Joe Walcott became as familiar to us as Joe Louis and Muhammad Ali.

When wicket-keepers are not performing up to par it is customary for spectators to refer to them as boxers and that Harrison College team was no different. I was on that team as were Noel Gittens and Geoffrey Craig, all of us wicket-keepers at one time or another. Our skills, or rather lack of skills, earned us the nicknames ‘Oscar Bonavena’, ‘Nino Benvenuti’ and ‘Dick Tiger’ respectively. The only player who earned a nickname but was not a wicketkeeper was the other master on the team Colin Martindale – he was called ‘Jess Willard’.

On that particular day Noel, who was our best and usual ‘keeper, was having a horrible day behind the stumps and I was not helping the situation by constantly chiming “Go, Nino” each time he made a blunder.

When we came off the field for lunch an angry Noel ripped off the wicket-keeping pads and flung them at me saying “I done with that!  You could go and ’keep after lunch!”.

When he shouted this, Mr Walrond said “What’s wrong with you boys. He called you ‘Nino’; you call him ‘Oscar’ and call Geoffrey ‘Dick Tiger’.  You think if wunna call me ‘Cornflakes’ I gine stop playing with you. Boy, put on the pads and go and keep wicket”.

Needless to say, when we went back out after lunch ‘Nino’ had on the pads and for some strange reason there was a vast improvement in his ’keeping thereafter.

In a later incarnation when Mr Walrond was Chairman of Kensington Oval Management Inc (KOMI) and I was Cricket Operations
Manager at the Barbados Cricket Association (BCA) my desk was the first point of contact on entering the office at Kensington Oval and whenever he entered, he would say “Rollie, looka Wally!”

Mr Walrond was a rare breed.  He was a teacher, not a master, and it was my privilege to have known him. Requiescat in pace!

This column/tribute was offered as a Letter to the Editor.