I was born in 1946 and brought up in Wolverhampton – a mid-point given that my mother came from London and my father from Yorkshire. From my bedroom window, I had views over playing fields to, in the far distance, the Wrekin and the Malvern hills. Although the area was densely residential, there was still a small farm left amongst the houses and, as the playing fields still had some undeveloped land at both ends, the farmer would cut that area in the summer to provide hay for his cattle. One of my early memories (aged perhaps seven or eight) is being out there in the summer holidays with several other children, all of us wielding pitchforks supplied by the farmer to help collect the freshly cut hay. Can you imagine that happening today?

My father, a war-time pilot, was deeply involved with the local Royal Air Force Association in his spare time – both as chairman of its local club and the captain of its cricket team. Cricket was thus part of my life from an early age and, with a school friend who lived nearby, I made good use of the playing fields at weekends and during the school holidays. When the weather kept us indoors, we played chess instead. I was also learning to play the piano (and, for a short time, the violin as well) but I was reluctant so, in spite of gaining some certificates and one medal at the local music festival, I used imminent O-level exams as an excuse to give up. I had already acquired a dog when I was thirteen and the time I needed to spend training and exercising her added weight to the excuse. However, a few months into the sixth form, two school-friends (a violinist and a cellist) persuaded me to join them to form a trio and, for the first time, I really enjoyed my music. This was perhaps an indication that I prefer to do things as part of a team rather than on my own.

It followed a very sad time. My mother died, totally unexpectedly when I was fifteen. And I wasn’t even there – for the first time in my life I was away from my family at a school cadet force camp.

Having taken A-levels at seventeen and been offered a place to read chemistry at Imperial College, London, I found the third-year sixth form rather a waste of time. Hence, I left school shortly after Christmas and took a job working for Esso in a laboratory for the eight months before I could take up my university place. This convinced me that the oil industry was fascinating but that I had no interest in being a chemist! I thus aimed for a commercial career in the oil industry, preferably for a British company, on graduation – and duly spent the whole of that career (almost thirty-seven years) working for BP.

Bridge slipped into my life in my mid-teens when my father, who played social bridge occasionally, taught me the basics. I played regularly at university where there was quite a strong club and an inter-college league. One fond memory is being at home one university vac. when one of my father’s social four had to drop out of their monthly game at short notice. I was invited to fill the gap, partnering my father and, at three old pence (just over 1p) per hundred and with the cards favouring us, we won about £1.50 over the evening. That may not sound much, but was equivalent to about £45 today – a real bonus to an impoverished student.

University also took me back into music. I had developed an interest in folk music and the college had a very active folk club, which encouraged me to learn some songs, buy a guitar and teach myself to play it. This led to another benefit for an impoverished student – there were many folk clubs in and around London in the 1960s and one got free entry in return for singing a couple of songs in most of them. It was also how I met my wife of 38 years – she was reading history at University College but came to Imperial’s folk club.

Bridge was on hold after I graduated. BP’s sports and social club did not have a bridge section, so I became involved in the billiards and snooker section instead (another game I had played with my father and at university). A bridge section was formed only a year or so later – and I was at its formation meeting – but I didn’t play there for several years. My wife didn’t play and my “spare” time was involved in snooker matches. I did eventually teach my wife to play bridge and we played at BP for a year or so but her heart was never really in it and the arrival of our first child provided her with an excuse to give up. It remains a sadness that I have never managed to convince her nor either of our sons to take up the game.

I started playing bridge regularly in the late 1970s and soon got involved in its administration. I was treasurer of BP’s bridge section in London from 1980 until it closed in 2005. In 1982, I was elected to the committee of the London Business Houses league, in which BP’s teams played, and served them until 2005, including five years as Chairman in the late 1990s. Meanwhile, I joined the committee of the LCCBA (now LMBA) in 1984 and edited its newsletter for ten years, whilst also chairing its tournament sub-committee for part of that time. I am currently in my second stint as chairman of the LMBA, having stood down from my first stint in 2000 when I felt that I was not able to give it enough time due to pressure of work following the BP-Amoco merger.

My career with BP involved a variety of roles. The first half included some operational roles (although these had some “artistic” moments, such as a winter journey through the Norwegian fjords on a tanker). The second half was concerned mainly with planning, financial control and performance management. I always tried to maintain a good work/family balance, accepting that this might tend to limit my career progression. I retired in 2006, on reaching BP’s retirement age.