SWIFT SINGLES CAN WIN MATCHES

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31248, 21 December 1966, Page 19

SWIFT SINGLES CAN WIN MATCHES

QNE of the strangest facets of complex cricket was displayed again at Hagley Oval on Saturday when Sydenham set out to score 110 in 38 minutes against Riccarton. From the first ball bowled, to the end of the last over, the Sydenham batsmen went after the bowling. But against experienced senior bowling—and there are few more experienced, or capable, than Riccarton’s J. W. Kiddey—the big hit is possible only occasionally. So Sydenham picked up every run which was offering. The effort failed narrowly, but it pointed a lesson which is old, and wellknown, but nearly always forgotten. The running of the Sydenham batsmen was exciting. Nudges were made for singles, and sometimes they became two’s or three’s as the fieldsmen yielded to the pressures of the moment. The running reached spectacular heights when the brothers Thomson were together. Their speed, and audacity, made the occasion memorable.

But it was a sad reminder of the formalities cricketers so often observe. Quite regularly, runs which are taken quickly, but easily, in a last dramatic hour are ignored on the first two days.

There is no valid reason why Plunket Shield players should be without the spirit of adventure and enterprise so often shown in the dying stages of a club match. Of course, there is no worse way to lose a vital wicket than through a run-out. It is regarded, quite properly, as complete waste: no-one has been defeated by a bowler, yet an important wicket has fallen. But an acquisitive outlook among batsmen is not synonymous with foolhardiness. Good calling—and Plunket Shield players are surely capable of that—needs only a ready response. A Plunket Shield team which began a match stealing singles, and converting twos into threes, would worry its opponents badly. Canterbury has batsmen fleet of foot: G. T. Dowling and B. F. Hastings are ex-

cellent examples. It would be a joy to spectators, and a contribution to the welfare of cricket if Canterbury set out to run every possible single available during its shield series.

Thirty years ago, M. L. Page and W. A. Hadlee electrified a Lancaster Park crowd with their swift running during a double-cen-tury opening stand in a shield game. The batsmen of today are surely no less swift, no less capable of judging a run.

Lip service Is given too often to orders to run everything possible. If Canterbury wants to win the shield, and to bring back to the game a particular zest, it should ignore no opportunities of scoring.

When the Thomsons were hitting and running with such freedom on Saturday, a spectator, all youthful innocence and enthusiasm, said he wondered if the Canterbury Plunket Shield team would bat like that. It is unlikely. But even a pale imitation would do.