SORROWS OF CRICKET.

Marlborough Daily Times, Volume X, Issue 245, 22 December 1887, Page 3

SO RROWS OF CRICKET.

A contcnrporary in tho old country recently drew attention to the manner in which cricketers allow themselves to be agitated by feelings of disappointment and mortification which almost amount to absolute grief. Feelings which were formerly among the old players, but of momentary duration, and which soon became stilled by the general interest in the game, are now brooded over and treasured up ; mishaps and buffets of illfortuno are taken to heart and arc alluded to afterwards with the same pathos as wo allude to a sad accident or a crushing blow. We may try to soften the wound by inventing excuses—and there was never such a fertile ground of excusos as tho cricket field—so as, if possible, to swell our individuality, or rather to prevent its diminution in the eyes of our comrades. But the grief rankles, and as far as wo arc concerned, the game is robbed of much of its charm and interest. To sit in a cricket pavilion and listen to .he explanations and excuses of unfortunate batsmen is a very amusing recreation, for it is remarkable how very few men confess that they have been fairly and honestly beaten. Jones, caught |in tho long field, explains that his bat twisted m his hand as ho hit the bell. Brown, clean bo ivied, finds far’t with the ground, and declares that if the fatal ball had not pitched in a hole he must have driven it over tho boundary. Robinson, leg-before-wicket, flatly disputes the umpire’s fiat; and Robinson only acts on the apparent tradition among a certain class of players that to be out leg-before-W’vkct is next to a physical impossib:,ity. Smith, run out, lays the blame on his pai tner, who did not back up, or who did not come when he was called. When none of these excuses can be decently urged, there is always the light or the ground to blame—any thing, in fact, but the player’s own incapacity, or rash ness, or want of judgment. So, from the almost general prevalence of the habit we may presume that some sort of consolation is obtainable from the making of excusos. But the sorrow remains, spite of explanation and excuse ; and however much the maker may flatter himself that ho has succeeded in imposing upon his comrades by them, and has preserved bis reputation, tho canker gnaws at his heart for the rest of the day with all the force of a genuine sorrow. A bowler is a man of many sorrows. He cannot get men to hold the catches for which he bowls, and regards his most artful efforts in the light of pearls cast before swine. Or there is an incapable man bohiml the wicket, who allows leg balls to go by, and misses palpable chances of catching and stumping. There is the sorrow of the famous lob-bowler, who is treated with contempt by an unscientific Herci ’es with a true eye, who runs half-w'ay along the pitch, and skies his ounningest deliveries over the boundary. There is the sorrow of tho fast bowler, who beholds his straight balls pulled aw’ay, Nottingham wise, to the leg side, and who is snicked and poked about for irritating fours and twos ; and, however ridiculous it may seem to include such feelings in the category of sorrow, any bowler will testify to their keenness.