Dedicated and determinedthe gentle Mosgiel butcher

Press, 31 December 1980, Page 14

Dedicated and determinedthe gentle Mosgiel butcher

By

R. T. BRITTENDEN

Reference to “The Mosgiel Butcher” in the Press Association account on Monday of the Otago-Wel-lington Shell Trophy cricket match conjured up visions of a huge, hairychested, perhaps sharptempered fast bowler in the Otago team. But the “Mosgiel Butcher” was. in fact, little Barry Milburn, the wicketkeeper, who in his first representative match for seven years not only exceeded his previous best score of 36 but went on to make 103. Anything but huge, certainly not sharp-

tempered: at last sighting, a few years ago, he still looked as smooth and pink of cheek as a 15-y ear-old schoolboy.

Milburn’s was a remarkable comeback, and not just because of the runs he made. In the same match, he took his wicketkeeping dismissals to 150, a figure exceeded by very few in New Zealand cricket. It was an extremely popular success, inevitably. Seven years is a long time out of the game, but Milburn has kept on playing, after he lost his Otago place to Warren Lees, with the same efficiency and determination he has shown in his years with the provincial and New Zealand teams. He is not unaccustomed to disappointments.

His only three tests were against the West Indies in 1968-69, and he was chosen as the first wicket-keeper for the 1969 tour of England, India and Pakistan. Also in the side was Ken Wadsworth, plucked from a Rothman’s tournament not just because he could keep wicket quite ably but also because he had much promise as a batsman. Early- ■in the English tour, Wadsworth

thumped the Derbyshire bowling about in a brilliant attacking innings, and almost overnight, the. team selectors had Wadsworth in mind for the test matches. It was the same, familiar problem — whether to pick the better ’keeper or to plump for the one who might make some runs.

Fate works some strange tricks. Wadsworth hardly made a rup for the rest of the tour, but his wicket-keeping did improve steadily, until, within a year or so, he was firmly established as the test wicket-keeper. Losing his test place, and playing only eight first-class games of 18 in England, must have been a bitter disappointment to Milburn. He never showed

the slightest sign of it, but simply continued training harder than any of the others, waiting for the chance that never came. It was the same in India and Pakistan. On this most trying of tours, he really showed his quality. No tests, but every effort dedicated to helping his team-mates. Lunch was seldom an inviting prospect on a steamy day at, say, Bombay; yet Milburn made it his business to

find from each player what he wanted, and to get it for him. He kept on training. He helped in many other ways, and seemed always to be thinking of his team-mates.

During his exile, there were regular reports that Milburn was still showing all his old efficiency as a wicket-keeper, and many good judges have said, even as recently as last season, that he is still the best ’keeper in the country.

He .has never lacked courage, for all his lack of inches. On the 1969 tour, he played as wicket-keep-er against Essex — Wadsworth was in the side as a batsman — and this was the only county game the tourists lost.

They needed only 113 runs to win, but it was a pig of a pitch on the third day, with everything in favour of Essex’s trio of talented spinners. Nine were down for 61 when Milburn joined Richard Collinge. In a brave stand, they added 36, Milbum finishing with 17 not out, the best score of the innings — although Brian Hastings had also made 17. Four days later. ’Milbum held out, with Hedley Howarth, to save a match with Middlesex. Selfless, skilled, determined: Barry Milburn is the epitome of the team man. He has just written one of the great storied of New Zealand first-class cricket