A CONTRAST

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XXII, Issue 175, 9 July 1932, Page 1 (Supplement)

A CONTRAST

Two Wonderful Fast Bowlers of Other Days THE OPEN-HEARTED RICHARDSON; SOPHISTICATED LOCKWOOD. Ranjitsinhji thought that Lockwood was the most difficult fast bowler he had ever played against—not because of Lockwood’s pace but because of his “slow” ball (writes “Cricketer,” in an appreciation, in the “Manchester Guardian” of W. H. Lockwood, the famous bowler, of Surrey and England, who died a few weeks ago.

“1 don’t think it is a’slow at all when it comes,” said “Ranji.” “He does not seem to alter his action in the slightest. I can generally tell when other bowlers give me a ‘slow’. . . but Lockwood’s is a mystery to me.” And herein lay the difference between Lockwood and Tom Richardson—surely the two most beautiful fast bowlers ever seen in action at the same time, for, of course, both men attacked for Surrey many days and often, scattering wickets magnificently. Richardson was a simple-hearted giant whose energy passed naturally into fast bowling; the rhythm of his beautiful body needed no spur from mind or will-power. Momentum was all in Richardson’s attack. Richardson's bowling had m it something of the man’s own fiankness; it contained no subtleties. His pace was as open and honest as that of a wind which Upsets apptecarts and seems to laugh joyously as it does so. There was no frankness about Lockwood’s attack. His bolts seemed to come catastrophically out of the sullen air bred about the field wherever Lockwood moved. Temper was required to stir Lockwood to greatness. Nobody ever called Richardson’s breakback spiteful, unplayable though it could be on the hardest ground. He felled your wicket as the honest woodman fells his tree —regretfully, maybe, but as part of the bright day’s work. Vicious Bowling. Lockwood's bowling was vicious, and, as we have seen from “Ranji’s” comments, it was not to be trusted. Richardson's action told you ambiguously that he was going to send along a fast ball. And never did he let cunning of mind go counter to the honest limbs in galloping motion. “I will not deceive you,” he seemed to say to the batsman, like the dear old lady in Dickens. “Here's a fast ball; it will break back on to your teg stump. Try and stop it sir; I’m sure you are clever enough. Well tried sir!—l think yon played it on!” Lockwood’s action would advertise as fast a ball as evei Richardson bowled and lo! energy was suddenly masked, bewitched, transformed, and a ball came along hanging in the air, hovering wickedly over the wieket like ume circling evil thing! Richardson always bowfed well; the loveliness of his rhythm made it impossible for .him to bowl ill, for his action, so to say, “went by itself,” as though uninfluenced by anything so capricious as sinful human will. Lockwood’s bowling was as sophisticated as Richardron’s was open-hearted, which means that Lockwood was the more ration’d bowler of the two. And reason will sometimes waver and tell the body not to work in vain, whenever the facts announce a lost cause. Richardson bowled by faith, not by reason, and foi him no cause was ever lost. At Old Trafford in 1896, in the Test match against Australia, Richardson bowled throughout a long day when England was losing all the time. He bowled till reason in every onlooker was astonished; he bowled until even his own great nature was abused. And when the game ended and Australia, despite al) his efforts, had won Richardson simply shook himself like a superb animal and then walked off the field. He had tried his best, and the attempt had been worth while—so did his spirit console his weary limbs. Lockwood’s energy would blow hot and cold. At one hour he was a bowler becalmed; the next hour a whirlwind posseted him. Whenever Lockwood bowled badly batsmen couM not believe

their good fortune; they had an uneasy feeling that they were enjoying some fool’s paradise on the pleasant slope of a volcano. Any minute an eruption might take place and consume theml Richardson’s Endurance. In the winter of 1894-1895 Lockwood and Richardson went to Australia with Stoddart’s team. The season was terribly hot; day after day the sun fell upon the hard earth, making a fiery ordeal for bowlers to pass through

Richardson achieved wonders of endurance and skill, but Lockwood was found wanting. He bowled in the Test matches only 124 overs, and he took five wickets for 340 runs. Richardson bow-fed 309 overs for 849 runs and 32 wickets. He quite lacked the horse sense that sniffs in the wind trials and torments beyond a thoughtful man’s power to tolerate. In England, and on an occasion of his own choosing, Lockwood was the cleverest fast bowler since Spofforth. He had something of Spofforth’s genius to combine with speed certain crafty tricks of spin and flight. “There was something in his action,” said C. B. Fry (who wrote on cricket like an Aristotelean), “which made the ball sometimes behave as though it were a slow ball bowled very fast. Although his off-break was considerable there is no doubt that he more often than not beat the batsman before the ball pitched.” Lockwood swung his arm over on high with a proud poise of the body. He ran along the grass with a springing run and attacked from the extreme edge of the crease, and so caused the ball to travel diagonally to the wicket. Nowadays we would have talked of Lockwood’s “in-swinger,” but in his day the language of cricketers was plain and modest. All the honours came his way; no Players team or England team was possible without him. In his career he took 1376 wickets at an average of 18 runs, wonderful work considering the marled excellence of the Oval. He could bat and hit hard; twice he reached 1000 runs in a season, and in firstclass cricket he scored 10,673 runs at an average of 21. He touched the heroic heights in the Oval Test match of 1899, tvhen on a hard unflawed pitch he bowled fifty’ overs against one of the greatest of Australian batting sides and took seven wickets for 71. Three years later, in the unforgettable Old Trafford Test match which Australia won by three runs, Lockwood, on a soft pitch, took eleven wickets for 76. On the opening day Victor Trumper scored a century before lunch, but Lockwood did not attack until the interval, because, it was said, he could not find a foothold. During the summer of 1898, at the Oval, Lockwood and Richardson bowled Yorkshire all out twice in a single day. Can it be wondered at that such an epoch is now thought or by old players and lovers of cricket as an age of giants?