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Cricket on the sports fields
July/August 2011
The Final Assembly

In this, our final Assembly of the term - no, our final Assembly of the year - the Headmaster began with a presentation. Very well done to the boys - £15239.15 to the Lord's Taverners.

charity

WELL DONE TO THE BOYS AGAIN! - AWARDS

SUPERSTAR
Bookitch G Green
French P Gallagher, H Nicol, A Okuwoga
ICT J Crossley, J Robinson
Reading Z Ahmed, R Mackenzie
HIGHLY-COMMENDED
French A Eglinton, O Roberts

SWIMMING

Most lengths in the Swimathon:
1st Form: G Culley (30)
2nd Form: G Perkins (26)
3rd Form: W Nicholson (32)

Additional lengths, swum in own time:
4th Form: L Gordon (176)
5th Form: C O'Shea (202)
6th Form: L Wright (240)

Squad Gala, overall winners:
2nd Form: O Bell
3rd Form: R Ravagnan
4th Form: N Cheung
5th Form: T Wildblood

Special praise was also given to L Wright, this year's Swimming Captain. I quote from Ma'am Kroiter:
He has proved himself to be an exceptional team captain, always going out of his way to help out and always extremely reliable. He has swum extremely well throughout the season and throughout the season and truly deserves winning the Bermuda Cup for the fastest overall swimmer in the U13 age category.

Then came other presentations:

Long House Relay, on Sports' Day: Wood, collected by J Rogers
Bookitch: Wood, collected by H Timms in the absence of A Arzt-Jones
Top CE entrant at Charterhouse: A Nicol

Cricket: 1st XI Colours were awarded to F Andreae, A Peters & J Rogers
Unusually, 2nd XI Colours were awarded this year, to F Fordham for his excellent Captaincy of the team.
 
Happy is England

Thanks to Mr Fletcher for the picture at the bottom of the page. It shows the Sixth Formers on their final night (they return this afternoon). 

Although the background may actually be Wales, the scenery is idyllic. It shows the leavers yesterday evening.

The poem below is by John Keats. The best about rural England I could find - though he did seem to prefer Italy!

Happy is England! I could be content
To see no other verdure than its own;
To feel no other breezes than are blown
Through its tall woods with high romances blent:
Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment
For skies Italian, and an inward groan
To sit upon an Alp as on a throne,
And half forget what world or worldling meant.
Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters;
Enough their simple loveliness for me,
Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging:
Yet do I often warmly burn to see
Beauties of deeper glance, and hear their singing,
And float with them about the summer waters.