CRICKET OF YORE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20420, 23 November 1929, Page 1 (Supplement)

CRICKET OF YORE.

BY MATANGA.

heroes of old story.

Tho death of Arthur Lillcy, once a great figure in tho cricket world as a wicket-keeper, sends hir.ny minds back along the history of this typical English game. Lillcy, by the way, was one of tho best of wicket-keepers. Not tho very best. Australia, by general consent, produced tho best of all in Blackham, a marvel of quickness and brilliance. But Lilley was in the great quartette highly esteemed by so keen a judge as Ranjitsilmji. MacGregor, Storor and Hunter were the others, and Ranjitsihnji, while loth to put any ono of them above tho others, owned to a fancy for Lilley. There have been some fine exponents of wicketkeeping since that day. Australia has gi\cn proof that tne art did not die there with Blackham, and Walker's performance against tho visiting Englishmen at Adelaido lately suggests that thcro arc moro to follow. One thing is suro. No side can hopeto get a victory unless a really capable man is there to don the gloves. It pays to select him regardless of his skill in other parts of the game. On occasion ho may bo a good bat. That often happens, But, by virtue of his post, he has to bo a fieldsman of super-excellence, and his share usually contributes most to the necessary task of getting the other side out. Nothing can so dishearten a bowler or spread slackness in, tho field as a poor player behind tho stumps. A reliable wicket-keeper is the bowler's trusted partner. Ordinarily, lie saves more runs than tho average batsman makes. Ho sees most of tho game, too, and is an in-

valuablo adviser when it comes to tactics.

So, to recall Lillcy as a great wicket keeper is to say that ho was a grca cricketer.

Wicket-keeping seldom gets its duo recognition. It is best dono without fuss. MacGregor is remembered as a model of tranquility. Ho was uncannily sphinxlike, a veritable rock in patient steadiness, but apt to turn tho fortune of the game with a sudden discomfiture of tho most confident batsman. This quiet characteristic of all the best wicket-keep-ers has misled inany an unobservant onlooker into a belief that tho job can be dono by those who aro deadly dull. It canLOt. In passing, then, let the plain truth be spoken, and tho ArLhur Lilleys be given their due.

More Than a Game. It is well to follow the awakened thought about the old days of cricket back to things sometimes forgotten. For this game is much more than a game. Andrew Lang described it as a liberal education. It has dono a good deal to build a worthy national character. Some may not understand this. There is much, indeed, about cricket that is not easily understood, as must be said of many good things. Yet it has done something to keep alive ideals of fair play," as a familiar saying bears witness, and even to foster a decent code of manners. No game is quite like ib; in tho blending of quiet poise with grace and power of movement. Ibrahim Pasha, so the story goes, went one day to Lord's to see a cricket match. The visit was part of a well-meant round of entertainment for him. For two hours he stared in scarce-concealed weariness at the best that England had to show of this sort, and then sent a message to tho captains of the opposed elevens: ho did not wish to hurry them, the message said—an Egyptian viceroy of those days was nothing if Dot polite—but he would be much obliged if, as soon as their men wero tired of running about after tho ball, they would begin the game. Most Englishmen, looking on, would have enjoyed such a game, even when there was little running about after the ball. They would have shared the intense alertness of players watchfully poised. Beneath tho orderliness of the onlooking crowd is a keenness of appreciation of much that is far from spectacular. Ranjitsihnji took a German friend to 6ee a match at Kennington Oval. Notts was playing Surrey. The huge crowd assembled quietly, watched, fur the most part, quietly, and dispersed quietly. It was amazing, said this foreign friend of the Indian prince Why, there were only four or five policemen on tho ground, and these seemed as much absorbed in the game as were the folk they were supposed to keep in ordor! At least .300 policemen, he said, would bo required in his country to keep such a crowd from rioting.

Hero Worship. Out from a far past behind that significant, comment comes picture after picture of cricket crowds looking on in rapt attention. And Jiow they, even then, worshipped their idols of the cricket field! There was Harris, as John Nyrcn tells. A king of bowlers, this Harris. When preparing for his run before delivering the ball. he°" would have made a beautiful study for the sculptor. Phidias would certainly have taken him for a model. First of all lie stood erect like a, soldier at drill; then, with a graceful curve of the arm, he raised the ball to tho forehead, and, drawing back his right foot, started off with his left," and so on. Nyren was by no means singular in his reverent admiration. Lord Frederick Beauclcrk used to call Harris' bowling

" one of the grandest sights in-the universe," and the I'ev. John Mitfoid, Lamb's friend, applied to it Akenside s words about the Pantheon—it was " simply and severely great." And 'so with the batting. There 'was William Baldham, once, a mighty performer before the Lord with a bat, as Stevenson_might have said: " One of tho most beautiful sights that can bo imagined, and which would have delighted an artist, was to seo him make himself up to hit a ball; it was the beau ideal of grace, animation and concentrated energv." Mr. Mitford is ;is enthusiastic as Nyrou--" Michael Angelo should have painted him."

A Surviving Spirit. Ill,it was cricket of yore. We are less ornate in our superlatives nowadays. These fine figures of speech have followed the top hats oft the fields; but happily the spirit of cricket hero worship has remained. As the season returns to this land " down under," and an English team comes to extend our best players, names fragrant in old cricket story will bo heard again and again. They are more than names. They are stepping-stones back to a day when this game of games took deep root in the Homeland, on village green, as well as whore gentlemen loved to congregate. Duleepsihnji, nephew of tho prince of batsmen, will revive memories of that prince, and by way of " W.C." and Lilley and Baldham and Harris we shall go back to the bravo days of old, and be moved to emulate the men who made the early traditions (hat survive so potently. "The gamo lias changed somewhat, but its spirit is tho same.