AN EPIC OF THE TESTS

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 57, 7 March 1936, Page 1 (Supplement)

AN EPIC OF THE TESTS

When O'Reilly Saved the Day at Manchester.

THE making of thirty runs at cricket in two hours is not, in the usual run of events, the mark of a superman, or the feat of a hero. But that very thing by William J. O'Reilly, of Sydney, in the third Test match between England and Australia, at Manchester in 1934, aroused the admiration of thousands of cricket enthusiasts in England, Australia and elsewhere. It was one of the epic incidents that crop np periodically in the annals of cricket Test match. history. The occasion was the climax of a run of ill-luck for Australia after England had amassed the great first innings' total of 629 runs. An epidemic of sickness had indisposed some of the leading Australian batsmen just at the moment when they were needed in their best fettle to counter this large score. Woodfull, despite being off colour, had done well, but Bradman, under the handicap of sickness, had failed, and when Chipperfield went from a siclc-bed to the wicket, he was not the Chipperfield who had got within a single of his century in the first Test. Seven wickets were down for 411 runs, and 480 runs were wanted to save a follow-on. At that stage the whole will of Australia was concentrated on saving the follow-on, for it appeared sure that the follow-on by Australia would bring victory to England. On the other hand, to make 480 runs meant that England, with a lead of only 149, would have to bat for at least three hours before being safe to declare, and even if the wicket did wear badly, the flower of Australia's batsmen could be depended on to carry through the time left for play and get a draw. It was a battle of tactics —on England's part to bridge a short-cut to victory, by Australia to ensure that threehour respite, for a draw. To the eager onlookers, England's victory appeared almost certain, for Chipperfield was aweary with sickness. With him was left only Australia's woeful batting "tail" —and 69 more runs were needed. Grimmett, the biggest vertebra (as a batsman) of the tail, had once made 50 runs in a Test match in England, but, alas, after a valiant effort for ten minutes he departed without contribution, though ho had partnered . Chipperfield for eight more runs. Sixty-one runs wanted! Came O'Reilly to the breach, or, as many felt, to the slaughter of the rabbits. He had to face the shock bowling of Clark, the swift, insidious swings of Allen, the pace changes and breaks of Hammond, and crafty wiles of flight and spin by Verity and Hopwood. But O'Reilly shaped like the batsman he had never been considered. He edged the fast stuff safely through gaps in the field, he played a sound defence

At a time such as the present, when interest in cricket is nationwide in view of the test matches played between the celebrated M.C.C. team and New Zealand, the moment seems opportune for the publication of the following article on an incident in an Australian test match. The initials M.C.C., as most young people know, denote the world-famed Marylebone Cricket Club. Thii club was first started in about the year 1788, and soon became recognised as the supreme authority on cricket. Its first match was played at Lord's, opened a year earlier, and so named after one Thomas Lord, the man whose efforts were wholly instrumental in the making of these famous playing fields.

to the lec-stump attack, and pounced on the weaker offerings to lift the score along. Chipperfield went at 454, and Wall, inspired by his teammate's success, co-operated with him in playing the bowling "like an opening pair," till the critical 480 runs were up, and then some. At 41U the innings closed with O'Reilly unbeaten, and claiming 30 runs to hia credit, and the game was drawn. This tale of a tail from Test match history impresses on us once again the national attribute of tenacity in holding the breach. Cricket teams may have a tail, but every little while the world sees the national spirit displayed in a dynamic spring instead of a nonchalant wag. One does not pretend that O'Reilly was a batsman in ambush, or that normally he is out of the "rabbit' class as a run-getter in Test cricket company. Indeed, that would detract from the heroism of bis saving stand at Manchester, which recalls the traditional remark of the Duke of Wellington that the battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton and Harrow. The philosophy of that dictum was that the games of the nation inculcate the soldierly virtues of dash, daring and tenacity in rising to the occasion in moments of crisis. This thought was behind the universal admiration expressed on O'Reilly's valiant stand at Manchester. Here was a bowler who had already done his part for Australia magnificently in the first two days. His bowling -had earned him the respect of England's best batsmen, of whom seven fell to his prowess, and testimony that he "was among the great bowlers of Australia." He had also fielded fearlessly and well. By all standards he had done his bit. He was no batsman, yet the irony of circumstance thrust on him the responsibility of having to carry Australia to safety point by getting runs and staying for hours at the wicket. It was a task that might have tried the nerve of a Ponsford, a Bradman, or a McCabe—yet he faced the strange role without flinching, and carried it through with an ability he was unaware of possessing. It was not his job; but he did it, and did it s well, through the sheer merit of ~v' * .s-.i o y a ity_ That is why O'Reilly's innings was an epic of the Tests, and stirred the world to applause. Incidentally, the episode points a moral. Such incidents are of the spirit of cricket as a team game, a game which gives opportunity to some unit of the side to "achieve the impossible" in the interests of the whole. It is not always the swift and daring deed that is most useful, though it may be thrilling and spectacular.