SOME GREAT BATSMEN

Hawera Star, Volume LIII, 10 March 1934, Page 8

SOME GREAT BATSMEN

' _ , WICKETKEEPER’S VIEWS it; . INTIMATE DRAMATIC ACTION!. INCIDENTS" THAT ESCAFE CROWD. T-f the pulse of cricket ever.. had . to be taken I believe its heart-beats would be found tb register more clearly than anywhere else a foot or two- behind the stumps, where’ wicketekeepers crouch (writes .H. B. Cameron, South Africa’s cricket captain arid) in *‘The Outspan”). The medical simile, is perhaps pardonable, for it comes to mind, readily as I lie convalescing in a nursing home. The sun comes streaming in through my western window and With it a whiff of fresh summer scents from a garden lately drenched by rain. Sonieiwheire to-day cricket as being played. In ,thfe .drowsiness of. a sick bed it is easy to imagine the scene and to picture some of the fair-away fields where I have been fortunate enough to squat behind the wickets while, some of the world.’® greatest batsmen 1 shuffled their feet in the. foreground. Here the game throbs about the vital end 1 of the wicket. In all the great area of a cricket field the most intimate dramatic action unfolds itself within these few yards of the bats- ' man’s crease. Here you feel the mood' of the game an'd' the players. Here all the cunning that the bowler commands takes effect, and here the batsman, counters with his rich or poor ability. Here happen! a hundred little incidents that escape the crowd, and even fields who are set away from- the wicket. The whole story of a match is told to the man behind the stumps. If he had. time. to. listen it would present a wonderful tale, but behind the wicket is no place for day-dreaming. Yet to the observant there is a great deal to be learned and seen by the wicketkeeper without upsetting his concentration on his own job. And 1 at times you see some funny things besides the endless parade of flannel. trousers in front of vou. I believe I have learned 80 per cent, of mv batting from watching the styles of great players who. I have seen, from behind the stumps, and naturally I learnt more as an- ordinary member of the team than as captain. Nearly all-the great players I can think of, except perhaps H. Sutcliffe, and W. 'M. Woodfull, have this in common, that in making a stroke their arms, legs and body all wprk in unison. They have absolute control of back-play, and the bat is swung at an angle to the ground' so that it hits the baTl late - . ■ I have long, since relinquished the thought ..that great players are necessarily correct players. In view of theway fundamentals are dTumtaied into the young player it is strange to discover that many of the leading batsmen disregard them. I have noticed this particularly in footwork. . They do hot always have their feet in. the correct position, but wherever tlieir feet may l>e tlieir arms and body cover the boll thoroughly. It. is. more common in Australia than anywhere else where cricket is played for batsmen to disregard orthodox methods of batting, and D. G. Bradman and W. H. Ponsford are two players who do not worry particularly about observing convention. Bradman does not always put his foot to the ball. He sometimes steps paslt i)t, as in the case of a “yorker,” and! still he drives it through the covers. But then Bradman’® batting is a law unto himself. Of all players I have seen he seems to be able to play his shots with a greater margin of safety than the aveiage Test cricketer. He is in position almost as the ball leaves the bowler’s hand. His, sense of anticipation is almost uncanny, and, backed by wonderful eyesight, he is very seldom caught ini two minds. Bradman, I believe, has the_ liveliest foot'w’ork of any Ixitsmiiii living. is tantalising to the wicketkeeper, for he often goes as far as two or three yards out of his crease, but he doesn t leave any of his confidence behind mthe block-hole, and consequently seldom if ever ■ provides an opportunity to stump him. TOG MUC H OF BRADMAN! ■Seeing great, batsmen over the top of the stumps reminds me of how much I once saw of Bradman. Xt was in the fourth Test match at Adelaide. The temperature was Toun’d about 98, and Bradman batted the whole day with a freshness and energy that suggested that he .must have had a cooling plant congealed on his person. I glared at the back of his body until I believe I knew every peculiarity of the weave of his flannels and the nickel on the buckles of his pads. He scored 299 not out that day, and in trying to make it 300 he actually ended up .running the same way as the other batsman, H. M. Thurlow, who was unable to keep up to Bradman’s pace and was run out. I have seen some players’ shirts clinging to them after half an hour’s batting.' Bradman’s was as dry after a day at the wicket as when he put it on first thing iff the morning. I bolieva he hardly perspired at all. Woodfiuill and Sutcliffe, although, both solid types of players, have very different" styles. Woodfull plays very slowly, standing still in his crease, but Sutcliffe comes well back on to his wick.etjjand, 'disregarding the orthodox back-play rule of keeping the left shoulder pointing toward- the bowleT, turn® full face to) play the ball. Neither Woodfull nor Sutcliffe lifts his bat very mu'ch, but both of them have a thorough understanding of Wickets and the way-the ball behaves oh .different pitches. • Bruce Miitcliell is similar tp,Sateliffe in that he plays liis defensive shots from Tar back ion the wicket. I remember in England in: 1919 the famous Wilfred Rhodes was prompted to' comment on Mitchell’s back play. Xt was while the side was playing Yorkshire at Bra-mall Lane. Mitchell scored 101 that day, but Rhodes said 1 Mitchell would! not make a run' when he met M. W. Tate’s swing bowling, on account of his back-play. Mitchell was bbwTed by

Tate, but not before lie had scored SS and spent seven hours at the wicket. His score rather refuted the argument that going back to swing bowling is dlangehous. X think it is quite safe as long as you watch the ball all the time. The most stylish players in the game to-day, in my opinion, are W. R. Hammond! and A. F. Kippax. Kippax probably has the more'pleasing technique. He -makes his shots with smooth, graceful movements and excellent timing, but Hammond is more effective. Both are ailtists when, they are able to give their ability free rein. It is- very questionable whether Frank Woolley is not still the best left-hand batsman playing cricket today, even though he has -passed his prime. I should place M. Leyland second on the list, but Woolley’s cricket is something that will live long after Leyland’s. Almost without exception every modem writer on cricket uses his most descriptive language in praising Woolley’s style, and nearly all South African Test players of to-day, particularly bowlers, have cause -to remember the pleasing but often long-delayed spectacle of the tall Kent player walking stiffly back! to the pavilion. Apart from- the beauty of Woolley’s stroke play, I shall 1 remember him as the -biggest hitter I have ever stood be-; hind. I shall never forget the match at Folkestone in 1929, when he decided to 1 hit Q. McMillan out of the ground. It was a straight drive. From behind the .stumps I watched the ball sail higher and higher on its flight. Like a stone that is dropped from! a high bridge or tall building it grew smaller and smaller, as though it would literally disappear from sight. Dimly it began to curve earthwards, and finally landed in the middle of a travelling circus, camped outside the ground. That was the biggest hit I have ever seen. McMillan made up for his rough treatment: when he landed a .ball in a woman’s lap at Canterbury, and, happily _ without Serious consequences;, hit a six on to the head of a man in .the stand at Lord’s.

Even, as late as 1929, when; he was 47, J. B. Hobbs was still a master batsman. His footwork was equal to that of any great player of that time. To me he was the marvellous batsman whose name I had heardi bandied! about in every back-yard icrieket match since I was a child —a great player whose brilliance only •the march of time could dim

SOLE. PRIVILEGE. So-me of the things it is the wicketkeeper’s sole privilege to hear in cricket are the remarks ancl comments made ffy: batSmpn. Some of them, never talk. Mitchell never mumbles a word, and Bradman seldom says anything, except at the. end of an over. Patsy Hendren, on the other hand, always carries on a con-: versation in his playful' humorous way.: He has often driven a ball through the. covers without letting the stroke inter-' fere with the story he might be telling. Wally Hammond talks at the wicket occasionally. I believe it is a wrong ,pol-> iey for a wicket-keeper ever to start' a' conversation in the course of a game.:

. Two of (the younger school of players who have impressed me at the wicket are Dempster, of New Zealand, who, though not in the world’s class,; is a very useful cricketer, and Jack l •Siedle', one of the safest batsmen South; Africa has produced. He is of the. solid, orthodox type, and we shall probably 'hear more of him as time goes on. ■ I shall remember keeping wicket to M. J. Susskind and Tate because of the difficulty in stumping them. They had such wide . areas to cover with their A hundred little incidents behind the stumps come tumbling back to; mind as I ponder over Test match experiences.. Ham'mond and Woolley used to cut the ball so far back that more than, once, I have momentarily caught the ends oil! , their bats in my gloves. And you can imagine my thoughts at Brisbane when,; I glared at WoodfulFs wicket after C. L Vincent had hit the stumps, and the bails did not fall. Dozens of times in a wicketkeeper’s career, too, there comes the occasion when, after the bats- , man has played 'the ball, it rolls back towards the stumps. Will it roll hard, enough -to dislodge a bail? "Will the, batsman turn round in time to 1 prevent it? They are nervous moments. I have often felt an urge to look up suddenly , into the eionds in' the hope that th'C ( batsman would follow my gaze and let, the ball roll on. But what human wicketkeeper in moments like these could: force himself to; take his eyes off that tantalising little ball?