Remembering John Monk – Tributes to an Anson legend

On 13 January 2025 our dear friend and Anson St George legend, John Monk, was sadly laid to rest.

It was a testament to John that there were well over 100 people at the funeral service. It was a very moving occasion, and John’s daughters and son in law spoke beautifully about him. The key themes that came up in their speeches, and from talking to everyone else in attendance, were John’s kindness, humour and wisdom.

These qualities of John were definitely known by everyone who played cricket with John at Anson. He wasn’t averse to causing a bit of upset for the sake of providing some humour, or to make a joke at someone else’s expense, as you will see from some of the stories on this post. However, John’s wisdom and judge of character knew when the right time was to make a gag and when someone needed an arm round the shoulder.

This post is a dedication to John with stories, memories and tributes to the great man from current and former Anson St George members. I hope it stands as a monument to John to demonstrate the love that we all had for him.

Lee Gilbert

My earliest memory of John is not from cricket but from Table Tennis where I first encountered John “marmite” Monk. You either love him or hate him, and for me I loved the man.

Both Gill & I used to play with and against John at table tennis, in fact Gill has known John a lot longer than I as she started playing before me. It was John who got me started with Anson. One Thursday after a table tennis match in 1993, we were sitting at the LESSA club having a pint and John & Ian Attridge were having that familiar discussion we have all heard many times “We are 1 short for Sunday who can we get in”. me being me said what’s that then Monky. “Cricket” came the reply, “Why do you play”. And that was it, I was in and my career with Anson started. I’ll never forgive him LOL.

As many people have said John was a great teacher at cricket, but also at table tennis. I recall one match where we was winning comfortably but I was struggling to beat their number 3. I came off losing the first game in a best of three and Monky said to me that I didn’t have to play every shot as if it was my best shot, just get the ball back and wait for your shot to come. Needless to say after winning the next two games easily, he was right, as he normally was.

The same can be said at cricket. I owe a lot of my runs to John as it was him, as captain, who promoted me to open the batting one day at Blackshots against Tilbury. A few choice words from him before I went out as a confidence boost having set a club record for ducks the previous year saw me return with my first club fifty, and the rest as they say is history. I never looked back.

Over the 32 years I have played, I have had loads of opening partners, most of whom I have enjoyed batting with. Monky was one of them and whilst it wasn’t often I don’t think, it was always good fun and a great learning curve every time. John had a way of teaching you stuff without you even knowing it.

I have loads of memories of John. Cricket ones especially as that is where we spent most of our time. I love the Plessey story about the guy wanting a new bat, or the day he chased someone with a stump who upset him, and even asking Huggy why we got the only West Indian who can’t play cricket. But my favourite has to be when we drove all the way to Surrey in 1995 to play NBW – Mick Smalldon’s former team.

A time game was agreed between the two captains and they batted first scoring roughly 110-6 before tea, very slowly. During the first innings one of their players got struck on the foot by one of our bowlers (may have been Neil DeSouza) and had to retire. At tea they told Anthony Burnham, our captain, they would bat on. Not very sporting but allowable but Monky wasn’t pleased. When they came out they didn’t rush really but finally declared on 139-8. Throughout their innings after tea, John was being his usual wind-up self, and their captain who wasn’t particularly skinny was getting the hump with it. As we went to bat Anthony said that on no account do we lose this, but wanted a win badly due to ill feeling. I opened with Miguel DeSouza and one of us edged one down towards the boundary. Their player who went off with the injured foot gave chase, limping badly. “Run up lads Skippys chasing it” shouts Monky from the boundary to which their skipper replied “I don’t find that very funny, he’s hurt, be quiet” only for John to respond “When I’m talking to you slim, I’ll let you know”. Oh dear

Migsy got out after a quick fire 50 odd, leaving Alfy to join me. Shortly after Alfy came out me and him walked off having won the game. A very swift half and we were off never to go back again. Another fixture lost to John. But he was right, he was always right, and we always supported him.

I could talk forever about John as he shared so many of my good times, be it cricket or otherwise he was a dear friend to so many, in so many walks of life.

We often went out socially too.

I recall at a club one Christmas, our group were the only ones at the bar. “Scuse me gorgeous, can we get a drink” (barmaid turns round) “Not you ugly, your mate”. Exit bar swiftly.

Or coming home in a mini bus one night “Excuse me driver I think we need a stop here” says John ” I cant stop here mate” says driver “I suggest you do it would be beneficial” Monky came back “I cant” was the response. “Then I’m sorry for the mess” as Monky threw up down the whole side of the moving van.

Everyone who knew John was touched by him in some way and as I said earlier, he was Marmite. I don’t like marmite but John was my friend, a close friend and someone I could always turn to for anything. I’m gonna miss him loads as we all will.

One thing I know for sure we will never forget him, and his memory and his stories will live forever

“Mercy mercy Uncle Percy”

Robert McTaggart

If you asked me three words to describe John Monk I’d say stoic, trustworthy and mischievous.

But ultimately he was our leader. Everyone that followed him as captain of Anson St George does it to emulate his fine example. When he spoke, we listened; when he wound up the opposition we laughed; when they wanted to fight him, we stood with him.

When John took the micky out of you he was merciless but never ever nasty. To have banter with him was to join a trusted and sacred union.

I have a silly and fleeting memory that always gives me butterflies. I was batting with John, something I didn’t do very often. More by lucky than judgement the bowler bowled a ball outside off stump that I climbed into. The ball connected sweetly with the middle of the bat and raced away for four. Monky enthused about that shot, to me in the middle and then to people after the game. It made me feel 10 feet tall. To get praise from him was an absolute thrill.

When Alf used to fall asleep on the train he said he dreamt about “being out there, batting with John Monk.” I like to think that’s happening up there now, albeit briefly as Alf will be out cheaply.

Thanks Monky, you were the embodiment of Anson St George – play hard, play fair and never miss the opportunity to take the piss.

Hugh Henry

My memory of John goes back to Christmas 1997. I was planning to spend Christmas Day alone, but he wouldn’t hear of it, insisting that I spend it with him, his mum and the girls. He refused to take no for and answer and bullied me to come along!

I can honestly say it was one of the best Christmas Day’s that I ever had.

Greg Pearce

Greg wrote a whole blog post dedicated to John, which you can read here.

Paul Evans

To me, he was the cricket club’s original captain.  An unpaid psychologist who knew how to get the best out of players.  Of course, he contributed to some of the great on and off field tales which live long in the memory.

2 standouts.

One, in a hotel on cricket tour, John being steadfast in his demand that the crusty bread advertised with his soup, rather than the mere generic bread roll that was presented.  The laughter seemed to build every time the waiter returned.

The other, on field, where John produced one of the great lines.  To an opposition batsman who had just been dismissed, John asked if this teammate could borrow his bat, seeing as he never ******* used it. 

Often hilarious, occasionally controversial, but always making a room better by filling it with his presence

John Hickey

A person who had a crazy sense of humour and such a giving and benevolent way of helping friends at his own expense. I’ll miss that lad so deeply. 

Jim Dale

As I mentioned before, John knew when to make a gag and when someone needed an arm round the shoulder. He was the king of what Kenneth Williams would call an Acid Drop. In a game at the Peter May centre, I went to field a ball that bobbled as I went to collect it and it hit me flush in the face. Almost instantly, and loudly so everyone could hear, John shouted out ‘that’s it, use your face to protect your hands’.

His sharp wit was legendary. On one occasion there was a conversation about wasps and bees. I said I had once been stung by a bee. Monky quipped back straight away with ‘wot, £20 for a jar of honey’. I’ve been waiting 20 years to use that one.

I came into the Anson fold as an 11-year-old where people like John had an influence on me growing up. Having seen me grow from a young boy, through adolescence, and into full adulthood, he was always someone I wanted to do proud. When I scored my first 100 for the club it was John who was in the scorebox who shouted out ‘BATTED JIM’ to announce that I had reached the milestone. I can’t remember much about that innings but I will never forget that particular moment.

I will never forget him for all these little memories, and more. But he’ll continue to inspire me for his courage, kindness, and wisdom.

Thank you, John, for everything

Mitch Gilbert

For when the one great scorer comes to mark against your name, He writes – not that you won or lost, but how you played the game. 

Strong words that I truly believe should influence one’s life. When I think of my memories of Monky, there is one that sticks in the forefront of my mind. Mercy Mercy Uncle Percy. Words that will put fear into any child’s eyes. Week after week I would come to cricket and watch Dad play cricket on a Sunday over Fairlop. Enjoying all that Anson had to offer I would sit and listen to the stories told and jokes made – most often by Alf & Monky. Monky knew me from before I was a twinkle in my Dad’s eye and so he had earned the privileges of grabbing my hand and squeezing it, wiggling the bones at the very core until I would say “Mercy Mercy Uncle Percy”. As I grew older my stamina and resistance grew, but I would always need to say those 4 words, those 4 words of relief. This continued for years until one day I learned a very valuable lesson from Monky, how to defend against the grip and skill he had crafted over years – there was no longer a need to say Mercy Mercy Uncle Percy.

What does it all mean? The story you have just read which will be identical to those of you young enough to go through the same thing. It shows exactly what Monky enjoyed doing, and what made us fall in love with him as a person and cricketer. He took the piss, and took the piss and took the piss, he then taught you something that made you a better person, better cricketer or in my very early years how to defend against the Mercy Mercy Uncle Percy.

I have been fortunate enough to experience and benefit from the lessons Monky had taught those still around Anson St George today and I thank him for passing on his wisdom, ideas and spirit of how the game of cricket should be played. Because in the end, it’s not that you won or lost, but how you played the game.

David ‘Psycho’ Wright

I first met John when Alfie took me over in late April for the first game of the 1994 season being my first match for Anson St George CC.

He certainly was a character, and I had a good rapport with him, which grew year on year.

It was a pleasure playing cricket with John and he taught me a lot about the game (although I played cricket at school ) I hadn’t picked up a bat for 10 years …..he was a great coach , very astute cricketer and extremely knowledgeable about the game which showed in him saying things on the pitch like “I want you walking in 10 yards Psycho, if he hits it in the gaps for four so be it but you walking in will stop the single”, he knew how to set up a field and was a great bowler , batsmen and total cricketer in all aspects ….

Having said that it was quite funny when he used to wind up the opposition, how he didn’t get in a fist fight I will never know, but for some diplomacy from our teammates he might have been on a stickey wicket a few times, pardon the pun.

It wasn’t just the cricket that I really got to know John, the Saturday nights and even midweek nights particularly a Thursday at many of the over 30’s nights were a real treat, Magnums, Ilford Palais, Palms, Ashwell’s, South Woodford and the infamous Grasshoppers at Westerham to name a few with Lee Gilbert, Ian Attridge, Michael Rowe, Steve Clarke, Huggy, Stuart Nethercott and a few other oldies in attendance ….it was such a laugh…I could go on about all the nights and fantastic memories.

I did actually go out just John and I to over 30’s nights, he always knew some ladies in the discos, and we even went out on Christmas eve and New year’s eve one year.

Like I said I could go on and on about our nights out, but I will tell a story of one night in Magnums , There was someone else there that night, but my old grey brain cells cannot remember who it was ..anyway I was chatting up this attractive lady and thought my luck was in…. John strolled over and starting conversing then turned to me and touched my nose , saying to me , “psycho there’s an eyelash on your nose , here let me help” …he then duly walked back towards the bar after attending to me.

The demeanour of the girl ‘s face who I was chatting up went from a wry smile to a fit of laughter…little did I know that the bloody git put some cigarette ash on my nose in a streak that the fit looking lady found extremely amusing and laughter filled the air, she then regained her composure and told me, which thus ended my fortunes at pulling her and when I looked in the mirrored backdrop of the bar I saw this dirty black mark and I retreated back to John whereby being so incensed I threw the contents of glass (a Vodka and tonic) all over his shirt…….

Well, John grabbed hold of me and I put my glass down and we were locked together, him saying “right let’s take this outside”

the bouncers saw our coming together and swiftly surrounded us with the intent no doubt of ejecting us however John with his quick dry wit, retorted to the bouncers ” don’t worry , it’s a domestic!!”

And with that we carried on the evening still in the club, me slightly seething, John with his shirt completed soaked, we made up shortly after and 10 minutes later all was well again and we stayed in there till the end although I think John had to visit the toilet a few times to try and dry his wet shirt on the electric hand dryer ….

A fantastic character and above all else, was very caring. If you had a problem you could always call on John and he would be over to help if you had a problem or needed to talk.

I really miss you mate, go easy on them up there !!

I am still looking to keep this page updated. If any other former or current Anson St George members, or anyone associated with Anson St George wish to contribute to this post then please get in touch via email or the Contact Me part of this blog.