As we mark 80 years since our first game at our permanent home, former player Ron Sargeant, now 87, describes those post-war years in his own words.

After the war
My father Cecil Sargeant joined the club in the spring of 1946. In those days, the firsts and the thirds played at home on the same day, with overlapping boundaries on the front field. The wicket at the top end was up and down the slope, parallel with the track down.

I don't really remember the old pavilion too well, but the ground was very picturesque as it is today, with much more fencing. It was a little more wild in those early days after the war. The lane to the club was very rough and full of potholes [Some things never change - Ed.]. I looked up to the first team players like they were from another planet and I can remember being somewhat in awe of the first team captain when I was young, a huge man by the name of George Shankland. For that first season at Burtonhole Lane, the 1st XI squad was made up of openers John Eve and Mike Hobson, Johnny Grosvenor at three and wicketkeeper-batsman Bill Carden at four. Then came all-rounder Reg Bibby, Shankland, Arthur Spratt, spinner Johnny Butler and the two fast bowlers Eric Heath and John Stanley. Also, Tommy Rawles, Ken Pestell and Colin Alcock.

Dad's team was mainly comprised of 40-year-old-plus players, a few of whom had played for the club before the war. John O’Keefe was one, Vic Birdsey and Bill Pestell were two others, then there was Frank and Charley Wingrove and David Dean. Most of the rest of the side had served in the forces, and we even had a wicketkeeper with artificial legs by the name of Mike Harvey. He lost his legs at Dunkirk. And then of course, there was Pop Matthews.

Bill Carden of the 1st XI had a grocery shop on Shakespeare Road off of Hammers Hill and supplied the makings of the teas with his wife Bessie and Pop Matthews’ wife Ma Matthews doing much of the work for the teas in the clubhouse. Stealing a cake prior to tea was a definite no-no - she would be after you like a shot.

Learning the game among the old hands
My first job at the club was to learn to do the scoring [for my dad’s team]. This took up a lot of time so I did not pay much attention as to what was going on with the firsts. Making sure Old Lal put the right numbers on the scoreboard was another job for me. He was a strange old guy and I never did find out where he came from or who he actually was.

Playing for the seconds from the age of 14 was a tremendous help to me as a learning curve under the guidance of the skippers Jimmy Simpson, a very decent bat himself, and Henry Winser, very good with both bat and ball. And playing men's cricket at that age gave me a huge lift when I was still playing schools cricket. As a result, I played for Willesden District, North West London Schools, Middlesex Schools and London Schools. An abiding memory for me was receiving my Middlesex colours in the Long Room at Lords, from Leslie Compton.

I believe I played my first game for the 1s when I was 18 in 1957 under the captaincy of John Stacey. I became a regular in the 1s during the time I did National Service in the Army between 1957-59. Due to being stationed at Folkestone and then Chatham, I could get home on a Friday night and still played both days on the weekend.

Long walks and away-day journeys
My first experience of riding in a motor car was at the Village. Cars weren’t common back then, but I don’t recall having to use public transport for an away game. Most teams usually had two or three cars in which to travel, including us, but a few had to use public transport for home games, including Dad and me sometimes. This involved walking from Worcester Crescent up Marsh Lane then the footpath down through the allotments in Lawrence Street and a further walk to the top of Hammers Hill to pick up the 240 bus to the National Institute for Medical Research [now the Ridgeway Views housing development], then a walk down Burtonhole Lane.

The meeting point for sides playing away was outside the Hunters Horn restaurant, which was found on the Broadway roundabout in that little slip road on the far side [near where Chinese restaurant Good Earth is today]. There were usually enough cars to transport the whole team. When Dad was still playing and, if Jimmy Hodges was playing as well, we would walk down to Selvage Lane where he lived and get a lift to the ground in his Austin 10. That was my first experience of riding in a car, this was sometime between 1946-48.

The night the pavilion burned down

The old pavilion pictured in 1947, two years before it burnt down

I can clearly remember the pavilion fire in 1949. Dad had come home from work early having received a message that there was a big problem up at the ground. We had a hurried supper and then Dad and I dashed up to the ground to a scene of still-smouldering utter devastation. There was literally nothing left at all. It was totally heartbreaking.

But I have to say that, from memory, it turned out to be the making of the club. Almost everyone contributed to getting cricket up and running again. I believe that the mower shed that may still stand in the back field was donated almost immediately and provided changing accommodation. Teas and after-game drinks were more ad hoc, but I don't believe that even one fixture was lost to the disaster. The club really pulled together with donations of playing equipment, furniture for the hut, etc. But of course, there was a downside, and that was the loss of playing records, team photos, pre- and post-war. All down to one cigarette left still alight when the door was locked on the Sunday evening after everone else had left. It fell from an ashtray to the carpeted floor and smouldered until it fully caught fire after midnight, which is why no alarm was raised and there couldn’t be any attempt to save anything. I believe Dad was chairman of the club at the time.

Leading the Village attack in the 1960s
I was a new ball left-arm over-the-wicket swing bowler, but after a bit of coaching, I was able to get the odd ball to straighten. This, of course, was before league cricket and I would normally bowl 15-plus overs in an innings and have done as many as 23 in one stretch up the hill at North London. I took two walking-pace steps and eight running steps to the wicket and I used to use the crease every other ball just to change the angle of the delivery.

I have never bowled a wide in my entire career. Accuracy and attacking the stumps at all times were the keys to what I achieved. I would usually have just the one slip and a gully square cover on the one, a short extra cover, and a straight mid-off. On the leg side, it was usually a widish mid on, and three short legs, one almost straight in front, the second just in front of square and the third a wide-ish leg slip. That left me one spare and, depending on the wicket, I would either have a second slip or a short third man.

I did not really like the keeper standing up to me, as I felt that it limited my bowling options. Total accuracy and control of length were the keys. My stock ball was an inswinging yorker pitched on or just outside the off stump to hit middle and leg. Not nice if you didn't pick your bat up straight! The number of times I got a wicket bowled off the pads was a lot. I was never one for pace but quick enough not to have got driven back at me. Putting consistent pressure on a batsman was how I eventually got him.

I remember the 1960s pretty well, being vice-captain of the 1st XI under John Hardie, who, incidentally, was best man at my first wedding in 1964. I took 100 wickets in one season in the early 60s, seven on the Saturday and then eight on the Sunday. I was the old man of the team in my last season, 1967, at the age of 28, and due to being overbowled, I had lost something of my edge. [Ron is pictured above, front row, second from right in 1967 for a game against Hendon FC.] We were a really strong side in the early to mid-1960s, and with everyone available, we were much too good for most sides. Our fielding was always high quality, as was the support bowling after me and Pat Duffy had done our bit with the new ball. Our batting as a team was down to number eight and we were very rarely bowled out.

My bowling was ideal for league cricket as I gave nothing to hit. [After moving to Kent] I once bowled eight consecutive maidens for Tonbridge, taking three wickets in the process and putting the opposition under enormous pressure to attack all the other bowlers and as a result they got wickets as well. After the age of about 37 and with Achilles tendon trouble, I dropped down to 2nd team cricket and took to bowling left arm spin around the wicket and got a few runs with the bat. But that far end at Burtonhole Lane was always my favourite, despite the uphill approach to the wicket. Strangely, I hardly bowled an over from the pavilion end the whole of my career.

I have always thought that Burtonhole Lane was a place of peace and pleasant isolation from the rough world outside. It was a second home for me for years and I have always loved the place. I just wish that I could be able to see it and feel it again before I leave this world behind. I spent some of the happiest moments in my entire life there. I’m 87 now and can still visualise it all and pretend that I am still bowling from the far end with umpire Johnny Grosvenor saying not out to my frantic LBW appeals.

Ron Sargeant corresponded with MHVCC's David Hickey between January and May 2026. He now lives in Kent.

Mill Hill Village Cricket Club turns back the clock for a special 80th anniversary friendly match against Sutton Cricket Club on Sunday, May 17 at Burtonhole Lane. All are welcome.

Anyone who would like to share memories or photos of Burtonhole Lane can comment on our Facebook page here or contact the club via info@millhillvillagecricketclub.co.uk