WHEN I VISITED AUCKLAND

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23085, 9 July 1938, Page 17 (Supplement)

WHEN I VISITED AUCKLAND

old enemy sea-sickness en route. and when we reached Auckland, manager Mailey suddenly announced that there would be a civic reception to us at tho Town Hall. It was the lirst we had heard about any civic reception, and, so it later transpired, the local mayor was similarly uninformed. He was, subsequently gathered, much surprised to hear that a collection of cricketers ltad arrived at the Town Hall, and were waiting there for something and somebody to hapjien, but being a very tactful mayor, lie put off what ho was doing at the time, and came along and gavo us a civic rece)>tion. So that was all right in the end. Next we went to Suva. Fiji. Hero we were expected, and after we had been greeted on arrival by a tremendous crowd of natives, we went on (attain to a Town Hall), to be welcomed officially by the Lord Mayor in all his robes. This mayor said he regretted he had not been able to give us a civic reception. Well, it was a pretty good one. whatever it was. According to programme, we should have played a match at Suva, but it had been raining for months there and the cricket ground was a quagmire. It was on this very ground that Kingsford-Smith landed after his marvellous Pacific flight, anil if you had seen the ground, you would have realised what a wonderful landing he must have made. We got no cricket in Suva, but we did—some of us—get some "kava." This is a native drink, and those of our party who tasted it agreed that it.s principal virtue was. that in a very short space of time, it made you a bit wobbly about the knees. To make up for the lack of cricket, the natives staged a Rugby football match for our benefit and edification. They wore no boots, and to see how far and strongly they could kick the ball with bare feet was ail astonishment. Fijian Fast Bowler Before we left, one, Edward Thakabou, the local fast bowler, six feet three inches in height, accompanied by a native policeman, came and asked me if my name was Bradman. They said they had heard of me. When I told them that 1 was the said Bradman, they started to l'eel my arms and shoulders, and to laugh. Tho size of me appeared to amuso them, and although they made no at-

THE late Jock Cameron, who captained the South Africans in Australia, was an immensely powerful man, and as a batsman he could hit like a horse kicking if he got going. The story of him and Hedley Verity in a match in England always amuses inc. •'Jock" was giving Hod ley lots of stick, crashing and bantling him all over the field, and at the end of one verv expensive over. Arthur Wood, tho Yorkshire wicket-keener. remarked to Verity: "Well bowled, Hcdley—you've cot him in two minds," "Two minds?" said Vcritv. "What do you mean ?" "Well, he doesn't know whether to lit you for four or six." was the roplv. What an inexplicable thing that, such a splendid athlete' as Cameron was. he Bliould have been cut off in the prime of his life. And what a further unhappy thine that another member of that South African team, which came to Australia. Neville Quinn, also, should have died in early manhood. I rank Quinn as having bad the most pace off the pitch of any medium-paced bowler 1 have ever met. I am not forgetting Maurice Tate. but. as I have previously said, Tate was at his very best in Australia before 1 played against himCollapse of Africans Quinn, a left-hander, did not swing the ball a great deal, but his slight dip either nay was very deceptive. Time after time he had the inside of my right leg black and blue, from play inn back to him. and being too late to stop the ball. Generally speaking, slower lefthanders have a hard task in Australia. We hardly ever produce bowlers of the class of Wilfred Rhodes. J. C. White. Hcdley Verity. Each of these had a fair amount of success on our wickets, but mainly because of their great experience. their accuracy and command of flight. Jack White, especially, simply tantalised batsmen with his uncanny flight till they could not stand the strain anv longer, and fell into his traps. A rather odd thing happened in one of these Ai-stvalia v. South Africa tests: Clarrie Griinmott and 1 played, but he 4id not bowl a ball, and 1 did not makn a stroke. The match lasted only two days, nnd. although we made but 153 in our first innings, we eventually won by an innings. '' The reason of this was that the Africans collapsed utterly against Bert Ironmonger (five wickets for six runs, first time"; six for eighteen, second time), and so Clarrie was not called upon. As for me, just as we were going out to field* I caught one of my boot sprigs

in some matting in tho dressing-room. Jell, and sprained mv ankle. Because of the rule that in test mntches the captains must declare tlieu elevens before tossing, 1 was "in" tho Australian team officially, but out of it for al! practical purposes. "My Wife Too" Be a cricketer and see the world. . . Cricket got me from little Bowral to big Sydney—from Australia to England —enabled me to rub shoulders with South Africans. Now, in 1932, it was to take me to America and Canada. . And not only me, but my wife, too —for by this time I had become married to a girl I had known nearly all my life, Jessie Menzies, with whom I had been playmates ever since we were kids together at Bowral. To go on a cricket tour to America and Canada, where tho game has no very great hold, was a gamble for one. a sheer adventure for two, but we took it —and were very glad we did, for it is doubtful if otherwise either of us would have ever seen these wonderful countries. We had little or no idea of what lay ahead of us, but you must sometimes take a chance in life, and the trip turned out to be a great experience with lots of fun. Arthur Mailey, the old test match howler, was prime mover in tho adventure. Arthur is a super-optimist. When gates were low, and it seemed as if the tour was going to be a financial flop, he just refused to be worried. Reception in Auckland No matter what went wrong and plenty did go wrong—he was certain that something would turn up—and something always did. Mr. Micawber would not have been in it with Mailey. We went by way of New Zealand, I being a victim of influenza, and my

Bradman Tells of His Marriage And the Cricket

HOW ARTHUR MAILEY "TALKED" AN OPPOSING BATSMAN OUT

Continuing "My Life Story,'* By Don Bradman —(Copyright)

tempt to hide their mirth, I felt it prudent, in view of the disparity m our respective statures, to join heartily in the hilarity. They made no secret of the tact, that they very much doubted any ability au a cricketer in mo; and if the stories L hoard of the prowess of Mr. Thykabou wore correct, maybe it was just as well we did not play at Suva. Jf wo had, he and his policeman friend might have had still more reason to doubt me. Ono old gentleman came a two days' march in the hope of seeing us plav. When he found that the match was off, he immediately turned about and started to march off home again. This is no fairy tale. Apparently a two days' trek is a mere trifle in Suva. Our next port of call was Honolulu, and here we were under the American flag, for the first time in our lives, where most of us were concerned. Baseball with Coconuts The famous Waikiki beach is certainly fine, but I have 110 hesitation in saying that some of the surfing beaches in Australia —Bondi, Palm Beach and so on —are quite equal, if not superior to Waikiki. At, present, Australia is a'bit too far for holiday-making Americans, but with air transport going ahead, the time should come when luxury seaplanes or flying-boats will bring people from Now York and other big centres in tho United States to, say, Sydney Harbour. When we saw the native boys trying to play baseball with coconuts, we quickly realised that cricket is not the game in Honolulu. Still, it was a grand hit of travel experience to have visited such a beautiful place. It was bitterly cold, and we had our heavy overcoats well on when wo reached Victoria, Vancouver Island; and we positively began to shiver standing on deck while local photographers kept us waiting as they experimented with some new kind of flashlight, which absolutely refused to function. The cricket ground at Cowichan, where we played our first game, was in a superb setting—a small field, perfectly grassed, and entirely surrounded by lovely ornamental trees. And some of the cricket plaved there that day was rather extraordinary. At ono stage of the game, Vic. Richardson, our skipper, and I, put up fifty runs in seven minutes, and Stan McCabe hit ono ball so hard in a knock of 150. that it fractured a small bone in a woman spectator's leg. Six different balls were lost during the day in the near by bush; at one time, four were in use, as they were found and thrown back by members of the crowd. We were booked for a banquet in the evening, but so little time had we had to sort out our belongings, that ono of tho team found himself in evening clothes, minus shoes; another with only a pair of shoos to his name in the way of dinner dress. A good deal of local borrowing had to take place before most of us were ready to go to that banquet. We bad some good laughs at Victoria. One of the locals told lis that he had been playing cricket for twentv years and had never dropped a catch. We were prepared to see some sensational fielding from him, but it must have been his unlucky day. He promptly dropped a couple of sitters when we batted. Another expert chosen as a bowler, announced that he would not be able to oblige in that resnect because he had a bad back. He said it was lumbago. He went in to bat, and when he was rubbing his back I went up to sympa-

thise with him, and picked up his bat to "feel" it. It looked a larger bat than most, which was little wonder, for it must have weighed about three and u-hidf pounds! It certainly was the heaviest bat 1 had ever handled. 1 promptly diagnosed the cause of his "lumbago" for him. We Arrive in Paradise Brockton Point (.Vancouver) has the most beautiful cricket ground I know. No doubt, I am in danger of being outlawed by champions of lovely Adelaide Oval, and other choice spots, but I can't help that—Brockton Point for me. I cannot imagine a lovelier place for cricket, and in the distant future, when

HEDLEY VERITY a world's cricket tournament has to be played off, and a neutral ground is required. Brockton Point may bo the place chosen. Nothing but complete harmony could j prevail in such surroundings. Quite j seriously, it is just about incomparable, i The ground itself is on the edge of a ; beautiful wooded park. Straight ahead, you look toward the j Bocky Mountains, with their snow- j capped peaks showing up majestically, j while in the foreground, an arm of the j harbour runs behind the score-board, i and lazy old ferries dawdle across the : bowler's arm. To the right, there are small clumps j of ornamental trees; beyond the liar- j bour is Vancouver, city of tall and stately buildings. "We played three games here, and j Arthur Mailey took a bagful of wickets, j But ] always vow and maintain that | ho took one of them by Questionable j subterfuge. A certain batsman came in, and Arthur sensed he might he a hitter. So he offered him a cigar if ho could hit a six. j He promptly hit a six, a beautiful j one that sent the ball soaring away into j the woods. ; But, as with many a better batsman i before him, he was tempted to hit another six—and win another cigar oif j Mailey. That was his undoing, for the wily j Arthur sent him a ball that turned j about twelve inches more than the pre- j vious "bait" one. But how was he to guess that? j Mailey knew too much about bowling j (and human nature) for that chappie. ! Still, it was not always necessary for him to talk his victims out or to lure them to destruction with offers of cigars, and he put np a phenomenal performance for one of his years in taking more than two hundred wickets on this tour. (To be contiaued daily.)