In April 2024, we lost our dear friend Andrew Clark, or Clarky as he was known throughout the HCSS.
Clarky was born to Edward and Eileen and grew up in Kirk Ella with his brother Jonathan. He was educated at Hymers and was also, apparently, a choirboy at the local church (he managed to keep that last bit from us all). His chosen career – landscape gardening – saw him end up in London, and he would eventually join the HCSS around the turn of the millennium (‘when I found out pubs were involved’, in his own words). It is in the following years that so many of us grew to know and love him.
He was a valued member of the HCSS, serving as an occasional player for our football team (once playing in goal donning gardening gloves, as they were the only hand protection available), the editor of the Tigers Eye for many a year, and always being a voice of wisdom at AGMs. He was also a keen cartoonist (as many long-time Tigers Eye readers will know), he managed bands, and he even made a short film that has an IMDb entry.
There will have been many other talents hidden away in there that he just never deemed to tell anyone about. That was just how Clarky was.
He leaves a massive hole in the HCSS and the many other communities and groups that he lit up with his presence. We’ll miss him in everything we do.
I’m going to write lots of words about Clarky, but in many ways all you need to know is that he was as good as people get. He was funny, he was kind, he was generous, he was modest, he was talented, and he lived life to the full, taking many of us along with him for the ride.
Clarky loved his pubs, but not necessarily for the beer. The camaraderie, the conversation, the jokes, the anecdotes… this is where Clarky was at his best. If you were going to a HCSS meeting, a TV screening or a pre-match pub, you knew that your experience would be richer if Clarky was there. And he really loved cricket. From about 2001 onwards he rarely missed an overseas Test tour with England, funding his travels by selling cricket-related T-shirts and, of course, his beloved Barmy Army fanzine, the Corridor of Uncertainty. The irreverent but insightful tone of the fanzine won Clarky friends and fans on every continent of the globe, while his generosity of spirit made him the go-to person for many a travelling England cricket fan should they need advice on how to get around or, crucially, where to find a decent pint. When not hotfooting it around the world, Clarky could often be found at Yorkshire games or at the Oval, the nearest cricket ground to his home, where he was a member. Indeed, Clarky requested that his ashes be scattered at the Oval. Well, the Oval Maidan, in his beloved India, a country as obsessed with cricket as Clarky was.
As much as Clarky loved his cricket, however, Hull City were just as big a part of his life. Clarky did the hard yards with City in the 1980s and 1990s, sticking by his local team when schools in Hull were dominated by Liverpool or Manchester United fans. He toured the shitholes we frequented in the 90s.
About 10 years ago, Clarky was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease at a horribly young age. In true Clarky style, there was no moaning, no giving up. The cricket tours didn’t stop. His commitments to Hull City and the HCSS were as fervent as ever. Indeed, he has been a key voice in the HCSS getting our act together when it comes to ensuring that members with any additional needs are served as well as possible. Clarky also started a support group for people diagnosed with working-age Parkinson’s, meeting in a pub (naturally) in Camden once a month. The stories told by group members at the service to celebrate his life were highly touching. Clarky had made a massive impact on all of us, but hearing how his group had come to the aid of so many at their bleakest of hours just rammed home what an exceptional presence we all had in our lives in this great man.
When concerns were raised about Clarky’s wellbeing — he’d been due to watch the Leeds game on Easter Monday at a HCSS screening but didn’t turn up — it was his HCSS friends who raised the alarm, liaised with his family and started an appeal to discover his whereabouts. We’re lucky to have such people among our numbers. As one member said, until the dreaded news came through, you were hoping that he’d gone to some obscure Welsh music festival and lost his phone, returning to be utterly nonplussed about all the fuss. That would have been very Clarky, but it wasn’t to be. The tributes paid in the aftermath of his death and the applause to commemorate his life at the MKM in the 54th minute of the draw against Middlesbrough were all richly deserved. We just wish we hadn’t had to do any of it.
The celebration of Clarky’s life, led by his incredible family and including a wonderful speech from HCSS committee member Mark Gretton, on May 7 did his memory justice. There were HCSS members there from all around the UK, as well as some who’d travelled from as far away as Denmark and Brazil. It didn’t even occur to these people not to attend. It was Clarky. If you knew him, you loved him.
In some respects, Clarky is best summed up by one of his final Tweets. His train had been derailed mid-journey and he was left facing a long delay while waiting for everything to get sorted. Roughly 99% of people on social media would be raging about this, demanding refunds, sackings and some sort of retribution for this disruption to their day. Clarky? He simply Tweeted about how beautiful the destination of this derailment – Grange-over-Sands – was. That was it. No anger. No frustration. No sense of injustice. Just a man happy to sit back and enjoy the view. Be more Clarky, folks. You’ll be all the happier for it.
Rich Gardham
by Keith Dean