I first met Don Savage in the late Seventies when North Down made annual fruitless journeys to Wallace Park and suffered the ignominy of being put to the sword by a team of rare talent that included the Monteith brothers Dermott and Roger, Richard Burton, Harry McAuley, Given Lyness, Jimmy Kirkwood, Davy McDowell, Michael Bowden, Eddie Lockart and John Solanky. Great bunch of cricketers and a formidable team, but much of our fun and enjoyment came later in the clubhouse where the club guru Cecil Walker held court, and another set of super stars came to the fore in the form of Reggie Blair, Fred Blaney, Cecil Kirkwood, Simpson Robinson, Jack Simpson, TJ Lockart, Billy Taylor, and the inimitable Donald ‘Don’ Savage, club poet and rhymester par excellence, the undisputed Bard of Lisburn Cricket Club.
Don loved a bit of craic and wasn’t short of an opinion, and as the beers flowed merrily in the midst of the Wallace Park faithful, we soon found the company of the local bard and his entourage a lot more entertaining that reliving Monty’s six wicket haul, big Lyney’s hard-luck stories, and Eddie Lockart’s abrasion. In the course of the night we got our fill of them all, but the friendship of this affable little clubhouse character stood the test of time, and over many years we enjoyed happy hours in his company, perhaps drinking too much, telling tall stories and sharing his lifetime of experiences, all garnished and lubricated with a whisky or two. But the greatest talent that Don possessed was a wonderful wit and turn of phrase, a talent that he moulded into poems over the years, that were not only a history of the club, but memoirs of his personal life and experiences. His masterpiece “A Sate in the Park” is legendary in Lisburn Cricket Club folklore, and I quoted it with pride in my book “A History of Senior Cricket in Ulster.” We always said Don should have collated his work in print, but somehow it never happened, and after I moved to sunnier climes the memories of times spent in the company of Don and his mates faded, as does everything with the passage of time.
Roll on a lot of years and imagine my surprise this week when the postman delivered a small package from my good friend Cecil Walker. In the package was a lovely pristine copy of “A Sate in the Park” by Donald Savage, a collection of poetry and stories. Priceless!
By his own admission Don is “no Thomas Moore” but for rhyme and turn of phrase there are few better, and certainly none that have captured their life and their favourite cricket club with as much honesty, humour and passion. Don’s work embraces many of the club’s colourful characters over the years, the special occasions, the funny moments and poignantly, the tragedies. It also includes a full appreciation of his family and a bevy of photographs of people that he liked, the teams he admired, and of course, the life and times of Donald Savage. It is a true work of art and a treasure I’ll cherish.
Well done Don!
With apologizes to my old friend I was inspired to record the occasion in rhyme.
A Gift to Treasure
Another set of problems,
Another day begins,
Perhaps it is life’s punishment
For all my previous sins?
These days it takes me longer
To get my brain in gear,
But there’s always a little something
That brings back all the cheer,
The postman drops his letters,
The dogs go wild in praise,
But in his daily package,
One letter lifts the haze.
I open it with frenzy,
And then I start to ravage,
A book of lovely poetry,
From my old friend Donald Savage.
He’s got such a lovely turn of phrase,
In poetry and story,
And now I have his treasures
In all their fullest glory.
In times like these I’m not remiss
And cease from being a talker,
In times like these I always miss,
My dear friend Cecil Walker
Clarence Hiles
6 May 2009 on receiving a copy in the post of Don Savage's book "A Sate in the Park" from his good friend Cecil Walker
