GOOGLIES & CHINAMEN
An Occasional Cricketing Journal
Edition 24
December 2004
Because They’re Young
Warwickshire won the County Championship in 2004 by winning just five games. They were remarkably fortunate in winning the toss consistently but then accumulated huge first innings totals that put them in a position from which they could not lose. Their bowling was indifferent but if the opposition didn’t have the stomach for a rearguard action it would slowly work their way through them twice. Kent won seven games and finished second. It seems likely that other counties will emulate this approach in the future. Middlesex have already reinforced their batting by recruiting Ed Smith and Scott Styris for 2005 and they are certainly deficient in the bowling department. It will make for some even larger scores but the cricket will be tedious to watch. Eventually they will change the bonus point rules or it will be even wetter than 2004 and there will be some greentops which will sort out batting techniques.
Murray Hedgcock kindly sent me this note after the last edition: “Thanks for the flow of cryptic accounts of matches and personalities long ago. Despite living in this country for forty years, I still never quite feel that I have grasped the full flavor of English club cricket in its many manifestations - but then, as a non-drinker, I never quite got Australian cricket either. So I work my way through your salmagundi, picking a name here, a thought there, a proposal there, and enjoying it all. More power to your elbow.”
Robin Ager sent me these observations: “I don't see enough cricket live or on the box to have a definitive view of the England wicket-keeping situation. However, I'm not too impressed with Jones. I understand that it is generally held that Read and Foster are better keepers, but that Jones has the advantage with the bat. This summer, the out of favour pair averaged over 50 in first class matches, and Jones around 35. Normally, you might put the difference down to the fact that the latter was playing in test cricket, but I would have to be convinced that the NZ and WI attacks were significantly better than those of the counties. So, in my view, Jones is very lucky to have come into a winning side against moderate opposition. I would probably be better disposed towards him were he not an Australian in all but parentage. Is my prejudice showing? When I first re-established contact with you, I confessed to being fogeyish. Here's proof. At a recent Cricket Society meeting, around two-thirds in attendance said they had been to a Twenty20 match. Taking into account that I am, at 67, one of the younger members, I found it even more distressing when almost all of them said they would go again. Truly, the end of the world is nigh.” Robin, you are just fortunate that The Professor was unable to join us on September 5th.
Cracking Cousins
When a player joins a new club sometimes his credentials take him straight into the first eleven, sometimes even though he is undoubtedly of this standard he is asked to prove himself at the lower levels to satisfy club protocol. When Alf Langley joined Shepherds Bush in 1974 he fell into the latter category alongside another debutant who was of Australian extraction. The indignity of such an occasion can be softened by an understanding skipper who will protect such players from the possibility of a new ball dismissal by putting them in after a pair of stooges has taken off the shine, but even the best laid plans can go wrong. The Great Jack Morgan takes over the story:
By mid-1973, I had been playing exclusively first team cricket for some while and my enjoyment of it had been steadily decreasing. There were various reasons for this, but we won’t go into them here in case you decide to publish them! I found that I was asking myself questions like: Why are you doing this? How much fun are you having? Are you only playing because you like a few beers after? Can’t you think of anything better to do? And when I found that I was getting answers like: “habit, I expect”; “not much”; “probably”; and “definitely”, I knew it was time to retire, so I did. Yet at the start of the ’74 season, I found that I could not give it all away so easily and decided to give it another go.
I was probably rightly selected for the 3rd XI in their opening fixture of the season, which was over Sudbury way, I think, but I have no idea what the opposition were called. Anyway, we found the ground OK and Cousin Jim Revier and I were nominated as the opening pair in a side which contained several debutants, one of whom was a certain Alf Langley, who was listed to bat at no 4. It was the only time that Jim and I ever batted together and Jim immediately looked the superior player, scoring much the quicker. However, I finally managed to find a bit of form and actually overtook Jim in the forties, before he narrowly won the race to fifty. When we were both safely past our fifties, captain Maurice Richfield (who was umpiring at the time) apologetically asked us to get out so that Alf and others could have a bat. We immediately started to play some highly unorthodox strokes (OK, you’re right, we were slogging), but the ball kept hitting the middle of the bat.
It is remarkable that when you are desperate to stay in and get some runs, you can find umpteen different ways of getting out, but when you are actually trying to give your wicket away, you can’t. So when the score had reached 146 with Jim on 70 and me on 71, if memory serves, we both contrived to run ourselves out in order to get the Australian no 3 and the big no 4 to the crease. Strangely, after a mere 30 years, I recall little of the rest of our innings, though I think we reached a slightly disappointing total after such an auspicious beginning. I do remember, however, that the total was good enough to win us the match because I clearly recall taking the winning catch in the gully off Aussie opening bowler Jeff McClure in the very last over. The Acton Gazette headlined their report on the game: “Cracking Cousins”.
Since I am a pedant for exactitude in these matters I solicited Cousin Jim Revier to give his version of the events:
It was an early season Conference fixture which was played at the former Lyons Sports Ground at Sudbury Hill, which was by then Council owned. Jack and I opened the batting and it was to be the only time we ever batted together. A “new Aussie” was due in at number three and Big Alf at number four. I don’t remember who was number five, although if he had any sense he would have been padded up since this would have precluded him from umpiring duties. After a cautious start we soon began to feel comfortable due mainly to the fact that the bowling was total crap. On any other day we would have fancied tons but around four o’clock Maurice came out to take over as umpire and asked us, somewhat sheepishly, if we’d mind getting out so that the new lads could have a bat. We were nice youngish lads and of course agreed.
After giving catching practice for fifteen minutes we eventually both had to run ourselves out. This brought the “new Aussie” and Alf to the crease and suddenly the game looked a whole lot different. Having seen the great man bat before I expected Alfie to be peppering the trains on the adjacent Piccadilly line, but after scratching around for four in fifteen minutes he was dismissed, shortly after followed by the “new Aussie”. Unbelievable! This meant that both Alf and the “new Aussie” had succumbed to big match nerves or that Jack and I had truly tamed a fearsome attack. I lean towards the former but will accept the latter.
Alf was in the first eleven the following week and so, probably, was the “new Aussie”. I was still in the thirds and I don’t think that Jack played much again. I never did score a hundred and I blame Alf!
The final word, at least until we get Alf’s version, comes from the Great Jack Morgan: “Incidentally, I didn’t enjoy the 1974 season any better than the ‘73 season and retired again halfway through the season, after the South Hampstead game, as it happens”.
The Hilda Ovary Trophy-Winners
Steve Thompson provided this picture of the Middlesex Young Cricketers from 1972. Its quality suffers from thirty odd years in the sunlight. But never mind there are some interesting faces. Starting with the distinguished looking gent in the jacket who is standing on the right who is none other than Jack Robertson who taught many of us how to play straight and along the ground in the indoor school at Finchley. Before that he had a distinguished first class career with Middlesex and England as an opening batsman.
David Latchman, who played for Northwood CC is far left standing. His brother, Harry was a regular in the Middlesex side for some years. Next to him is Graham Higgs who played for Alexander Park and then Shambles himself, Steve Thompson. The next three are: Dave Horne (Shepherds Bush), Ian Mansfield (Enfield), and Michael Ashmore (Brondesbury). Between Ashmore and Robertson is none other than Mike Gatting of meat pie fame.
The front row starts with Gary Black who regularly features in these columns from his schoolboy days when he featured in George’s Rolling Stones side at South Hampstead on a Wednesday in1968, through his famous opening partnership on a Sunday with David Jukes when deputizing for Alf Langley, to the Professor discovering earlier this year that he still plays first team cricket despite his knees. Next is Roger Powell of Hatch End who looks more like a member of the Moody Blues, followed by Mark Williams of Brondesbury. Richard Hayward played for Ickenham and Hampshire and finally Colin Tungate of Brondesbury.
I asked Steve what he remembered of his teammates and this auspicious occasion. He replied as follows:
It was taken at Lord's before a match against the Young Pros whose side featured NPD Ross and R O Butcher, as well as Arthur Francis, Rodney Ontong and Barry Lloyd all of whom went on to play for Glamorgan. It was Gatt's first match at Lord's; I opened with him and we put on all of 2! (Gatting 0, Thompson 17) The match ended in a dreadful draw which suffered from the theatre-factor of playing in the middle at Lord's. It was also the first time that I played with Nigel and he may recall that he caught Gatt behind the wicket. Ian Mansfield captained Enfield to the County League title in the 80's. Richard Hayward also played several seasons for Central Districts in New Zealand. The side went on to win the wonderfully named Hilda Ovary Trophy in 1973, this was then the County Young Cricketers' National Competition.
Apart from Gatting and Hayward the other two eye-catchers in the side were Higgs (a left-hander in the Gower mould who became Captain the following season) and, of course, Black. Hayward played for England Schools in '72 and somehow I managed to come through the pack and do the same the following year along with the Future England Captain. One observation is that apart from the Captain, Mark Williams, the rest of the side came from state schools - I wonder what the breakdown is now?
Graham Higgs' brother, Alan, played for Alexandra Park (before moving to Enfield) and featured in that memorable Sunday fixture in the shadow of Ally Pally. On leaving, I recall Ian Jerman waving an awful, unkempt ground behind with the words, 'that's the last time we play there!' We were drawn against them in the first round of the National the following season -away! Sorry - a bit of an aside but it might invite thoughts on “The Worst Grounds I've Played On”.
Jack was our manager for three seasons and was everything that he looked; gentle but with high standards and a wise word for everyone. Before the start of this game he reminded us of the perils of fielding on the Tavern side of the wicket which requires the fielder to overtake the moving ball before bending to pick up - in order to compensate for the slope. I remembered thinking at the time that my only previous experiences of overtaking a moving ball was when it was coming towards me! Needless to say I was not the fleetest of foot in our side and managed to field close to the wicket for the best part of 50 overs before being required to give the Home of Cricket an opportunity to see my arm in action. The impending embarrassment factor played on my mind for the entire pre-lunch session. Did I gamble and go for the relatively shorter Grandstand side of the wicket - with an up hill run and risk that I might have to throw or should I risk the opportunities offered by the acres on the Tavern side. It seemed to me to be at least an 80 yard carry ( a good 30 yards beyond my personal best) but might, with the help of the slope, allow me the luxury of chasing hard all the way to the boundary only to see the incline frustratingly defeat me as it had Bland and others throughout history. At least I didn't have to suffer the sarcastic wit of our keeper shouting “Let it go Steve” as was to be the case for several years to come when our grinning begloved editor was eagerly awaiting my on-the-full, bail-height return!
All ten to no avail
Denis Jones recalls epic struggles from the sixties between Latymer Upper and Battersea Grammar
Details of the Old Grammarians, and mention of Roy Payne and Mike Selvey reminded me of school matches between Latymer Upper and Battersea. It was in 1966, in a 1st XI match, that Graham Carter achieved the feat of taking all 10 wickets, including, I would presume, the two guys mentioned above. On that day, the game was washed out before Latymer's reply to the Battersea innings, but as the Battersea team took an early departure home, they gave a friendly warning that they also had a bowler who was capable of emulating Graham's achievement. Later in the season, in a return match, Mike Selvey duly demolished the top order of Latymer batting, including yours truly. Although we rallied, and made sure that another bowler took at least one wicket, I believe that Battersea took the honours that day. In those pre-crash helmet days, I recall frantically making up my own thigh pad for the first time just prior to the match against Battersea the following season, but on a slowish pitch neither Carter nor Selvey achieved the rapid pace of which they were both capable.
As mentioned when we met at South Hampstead, Graham Carter died approx 10 years ago. I had not seen him for some years beforehand, but through mutual friends, I understand that he succumbed to cancer. He was a fine cricketer and footballer, who seemed destined to play at top level in either of these sports. After our schooldays together, he often seemed to be complaining of niggling injuries, being unavailable to play quite regularly. In retrospect, I wonder if these were the very early symptoms of his cancer.
Turn Right Where?
Gary Rhoades provides another installment in the saga of John Allports navigational shortcomings
I cannot recall precisely when, 1967 perhaps, but it was a midsummer third eleven game somewhere in the Pinner region. As usual, with so many colts and students in the side, car drivers were at a premium and so John Allport’s car was also at a premium. There were five in his car including a fair Barnsdale quota in Len Junior, our opening bat, and his brother Alan.
The cars set off from East Acton Lane in procession as usual and we arrived at the opposition’s ground at about 1.30pm. I say “we” but along the route the John Allport car had become detached from the others. Thankfully we won the toss and obviously we had to bat as there were only six players on the ground. Dave Perrin used to have the same routine even in the first eleven when tossing up before a match to decide whether it was to be a slogging day or a blocking day. Dave wasn’t present on this occasion but this was definitely a blocking day.
Allport’s car eventually arrived at the ground at about ten past four by which time we were three down for not very many. In order to make a game of it we batted on until well after five o’clock which did not impress the opposition one bit. If John Allport got lost on his way to an opposition once he got lost a dozen times. A rare skill.
Oak Vale Wanderers
Wynne Sharp sent me these recollections of her earliest cricketing experiences
My Dad, Charles William Stevens (Pop) was a cricket lover. When I was a small child, about l927, he was "Honorary Secretary" to a wandering cricket club, no ground of their own, called Oak Vale Wanderers ex Oak Vale in Shepherd's Bush, which was not that far from the Q.P.R. ground. I don't know how he got on to them, but he was the regular 12th man. He could hit a 6 sky-high - or get caught.
He built up a wonderful fixture list - all away games of course - including Herstmonceux in Sussex, LPTB I think, Highams Park, Walthamstow and other far-away places. They frequently hired a bus and everybody met up somehow, including our dog who was always sick on the bus.
My mother packed an attaché case that was quite large it seemed to me and I remember most of its contents: a large loaf, a large tin of red salmon, a slab of butter, wrapped in green leaves, a tin of pineapple chunks, bread board and knife, table cloth, cutlery, condiments, wipers for our hands, etc. I can't remember the etc, but it seemed an enormous amount to me.
The cricket bats belonged to the club and we kept them at our house,
standing in linseed oil on a tin tray in the corner. I am pretty sure they
were about twice the size of current bats. We also had the pads, which
Winifred Mary whitened, for sixpence - and, of course, mother washed the umpire's coats. When we had a fixture south or east of London, we used trains, probably Canon Street or Liverpool Street, via Bethnal Green Station - long trips anyway. The train would stop out of the station, over a very high bridge, and small boys down in the street miles below would shout "throw out your mouldies" and, if they were lucky, got a few coins. Coming back through East London, there would be a stop for hot food - pie and chips or stewed eels with mashed potatoes or cold jellied eels, which were lovely.
The chap who was always captain as I remember it was a red-haired man called Ernie Simmonds. There was also a chap called Dickie Bird, but I am sure he did not become an umpire. And apart from my dad's young brother, Les, I can't remember any other names. Ernie's wife was a very useful pianist and regularly played piano in the pavilion when the game was over, for singing and dancing. On reflection, I suppose it was because they were such a social side that they kept these fixtures. One of our regular games was along a lane which ran behind the Acton Main Line Station in Horn Lane. We would walk down this lane quite a considerable way, passing other cricket grounds. The Leamington was the evening venue then. Another of our fixtures was at Sandersons Wallpaper Company's ground on the Western Avenue. This was splendid and it had a swimming pool. Pop used to say to me "you ought to learn to do the scoring kid, you get five bob for that”, and my mother always replied "leave the child to grow up".
Spectators at Club Matches
When I first played at South Hampstead the boundary was encircled by a series of benches and old metal bucket seats. I think that there were also some rows of seats that must have been donated by a cinema. On match days many of these were occupied by spectators who would always take up the same positions around the ground. These were not club members but rather members of the public who would turn up to watch the games. Tony and Audrey Hawdon would speak about the hay days either side of the war when there would be spectators three deep around the ground. By the mid sixties the numbers had dwindled but there could still be around a hundred on a good day.
While the home side was batting it was normal practice to take round the collection box. If for any reason the vice captain forgot to set in motion this procedure the spectators would soon remind someone on a non fiduciary perambulation of the ground, since they wanted to recognize their afternoon’s entertainment by donating coins. The amounts collected were not vast but probably covered the cost of the match ball.
In the north east corner of the ground there was a tea hut by the Bowls Gate. The hut was manned by Lily Coleman and May Checkley on match days and they would serve tea and other refreshments to the spectators on the ground. This service differentiated the spectators from the Honorary Members who would obtain their beverages from the ladies preparing the players teas in the pavilion.
These arrangements changed when the new pavilion was built in1966. The kitchen was situated at the Milverton Road end of the pavilion and its window could be removed and all spectators were served from the resulting hatchway. The Honorary Members then had to mix it with the plebs. At 4pm the signal would go out and those who wanted their teatime fare would join what was often a substantial queue leading to the window.
Irritating trends in modern cricket-number 23 Andrew Strauss cracks another four through extra cover, walks down the wicket towards his partner, say, Andrew Flintoff, they both make fists of their right batting gloves and then mock punch each other’s fist. I had already decided to list this absurd play acting as an Irritating Trend when I received this from the Professor:
“Anyway it does seem pretty daft, as does the now compulsory touching of gloves that batsmen do when ever either scores a run. Just what the point of this particular form of male bonding is I don’t know, nor how it is that cricket has managed to do perfectly well in the last 300 years or so without it.”
My guess is that it is a cricketer’s version of the Afro-Caribbean high five which is a flamboyant form of greeting. But even if this were the case it would only be appropriate when the new batsman first came to the crease. Who does Strauss expect to meet mid wicket after the first time of greeting his partner? He surely is not greeting Flintoff a couple of times an over? Or perhaps it is a form of clapping? No, the Professor’s right. It’s daft.
Rangers Reminiscences
The Great Jack Morgan was so moved by my Rangers reminiscences in the last issue that he felt compelled to add to my catalogue of players and make the inevitable corrections:
Jack Taylor was the Rangers manager of the fifties. Rangers were indeed tenth in 1956-57 and 1957-58 (this latter performance being crucial as it meant that the Rangers avoided the ignominy of being founder members of the fourth division), but failed to do even that well in all the other seasons of Jack’s managerial reign. It is true that the solid defence rarely changed, but Ron Springett really only played two seasons, being preceded by Harry Brown and succeeded by Ray Drinkwater. Wally Colgan definitely filled in for Pat Woods (though only on three occasions), but Albert Pounder never did, he was exclusively a right-winger. Others who deputised for Woods were: Bill Nelson (who also filled in on the left for Ingham), Albert Rhodes, Keith Rutter and Peter Carey (though not during Taylor’s era), before Peter Baker took over in ’61. Bernard Evans, Norman Golding and Brian Bedford were Stock’s signings and did not play under Taylor and Tesi Balogun was certainly not the UK’s first black player. Other forwards from the Taylor period: Clive Clark, Alex Dawson, Les Locke, Johnny Pearson, George Whitelaw, Mike Tomkys, Bill Finney, Doug Orr, Terry Peacock, Tom Standley, Eddie Smith, Bill Temby, Tommy Quigley, Gordon Quinn, Willie Clark, Bill McKay, Ernie Shepherd and Conway Smith. Stock took over in 1959.
And then he sent me more
Tommy Anderson and Brian Kelly were two more of Jack Taylor’s many forwards, who eluded my memory last time. It was certainly not a great period in Rangers’ history, but I do not remember too much dissatisfaction amongst the crowd. I suppose this was because the home performances were generally pretty solid, which kept the fans reasonably happy, while few people ventured to away games in those days so we were spared the consistently dreadful away form. I had the daft idea of picking a team from the Taylor era (daft because I didn’t see the first half of his reign and my youthful judgment may well have been suspect in the second half of his managership), but having had the idea, I felt that I might as well complete the task. I am going along with your unchanging defence en bloc. I thought Brian Nicholas looked a good player when I saw him play for Chelsea and I would be sympathetic to arguments for his inclusion, but as I never saw him play for the Rangers, I am happy to leave the standard defence unchanged. Selection of the forwards, however, is nothing like so simple, but I am happy to ink in the name of Bobby Cameron at number 10 as he was a fine inside forward capable of both creating and taking chances. Amongst some mediocre players, Rangers also possessed two fine wingers during this period, Mike Hellawell and Clive Clark, so it would be perverse to leave either of them out, but I concede that the best of Hellawell was revealed after he had left the Rangers, while the brilliance of Clark reached its maturity under Alec Stock
The trickiest part of this exercise, however is the selection of the two main strikers. Most of the strikers employed in the late fifties varied from the ordinary to the completely useless so I must look back to the mid-fifties and beyond and I will certainly not be able to afford the luxury of rejecting players just because I have not seen them play. I think I saw Conway Smith play for Rangers in the 1955/56 season, (but I cannot be sure because my dad did not buy Rangers programmes (“I know who the Rangers players are and I don’t care who the other buggers are”)) but I cannot remember him very well. A glance at his record of 84 goals in 180 appearances, however, indicates a class finisher and he takes the number 8 shirt, though why he was allowed to move on to Halifax Town (where he scored a further 73 goals in the league alone) seems inexplicable from this distance, especially as Willie Clark also left the club at the same time. I definitely saw Willie Clark play in the 55/56 season, but memories of him have faded rather as well, I’m afraid, but his record of 32 goals in 96 games is not quite as compelling as Smith’s. The number 9 shirt, therefore, goes to a player I did not come close to seeing, but Bert Addinall’s record of 74 goals in 172 appearances puts him in Conway Smith’s class, especially as most of his goals came when the Rangers were a struggling second division side. The best of the rest in the latter half of Taylor’s reign were probably Arthur Longbottom (who hit 67 goals in 212 matches) and Pat Kerrins, who was mainly a winger, but who had some success when switched to centre forward late in the 57/58 season. So here is my strange XI:
1 Ron Springett
2 Pat Woods
3 Tony Ingham
4 George Petchey
5 Keith Rutter
6 Peter Angell
7 Mike Hellawell
8 Conway Smith
9 Bert Addinall
10 Bobby Cameron
11 Clive Clark
There were no substitutes in those days, so I am not picking any. Following the long tradition of selling players in order to allow the club to survive, several of this team were sold on to richer clubs: Springett went to Sheffield Wednesday, Petchey to Crystal Palace, Hellawell to Birmingham City, Cameron to Leeds United and Clark to West Bromwich Albion. Brian Nicholas was also sold on to Chelsea, of course. Springett and Hellawell went on to represent the full England side and Springett was in the 1966 World Cup winning squad. Springett and Clark both returned to Rangers late in their careers, but failed to distinguish themselves. Happily, the arrival of Alec Stock in 1959 saw an improvement on the Taylor era and strong challenges for promotion were staged in both 60/61 and 61/62, when much entertaining football was played and a record 111 league goals were scored in 1961/62.
Strange Elevens
Last month’s Strange XI all obtained degrees from Durham University. The Great Jack Morgan has once again spent his abundant leisure time to good effect and has come up with this bunch who are qualified for a special Jazz Hat
Michael Vaughan
Scott Richardson
Michael Lumb
Richard Harden
Pieter Swanepoel
Gavin Hamilton
Lesroy Weekes
Andy Gray
John Blain
Richard Stemp
Steve Kirby
Earlier Editions
I will be please to email you a copy of the earlier editions of Googlies & Chinamen, if you missed or have mislaid them. If you received this edition through a third party, please send me your email address to ensure that you get on the main mailing list for future editions.
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An Occasional Cricketing Journal
Edition 24
December 2004
Because They’re Young
Warwickshire won the County Championship in 2004 by winning just five games. They were remarkably fortunate in winning the toss consistently but then accumulated huge first innings totals that put them in a position from which they could not lose. Their bowling was indifferent but if the opposition didn’t have the stomach for a rearguard action it would slowly work their way through them twice. Kent won seven games and finished second. It seems likely that other counties will emulate this approach in the future. Middlesex have already reinforced their batting by recruiting Ed Smith and Scott Styris for 2005 and they are certainly deficient in the bowling department. It will make for some even larger scores but the cricket will be tedious to watch. Eventually they will change the bonus point rules or it will be even wetter than 2004 and there will be some greentops which will sort out batting techniques.
Murray Hedgcock kindly sent me this note after the last edition: “Thanks for the flow of cryptic accounts of matches and personalities long ago. Despite living in this country for forty years, I still never quite feel that I have grasped the full flavor of English club cricket in its many manifestations - but then, as a non-drinker, I never quite got Australian cricket either. So I work my way through your salmagundi, picking a name here, a thought there, a proposal there, and enjoying it all. More power to your elbow.”
Robin Ager sent me these observations: “I don't see enough cricket live or on the box to have a definitive view of the England wicket-keeping situation. However, I'm not too impressed with Jones. I understand that it is generally held that Read and Foster are better keepers, but that Jones has the advantage with the bat. This summer, the out of favour pair averaged over 50 in first class matches, and Jones around 35. Normally, you might put the difference down to the fact that the latter was playing in test cricket, but I would have to be convinced that the NZ and WI attacks were significantly better than those of the counties. So, in my view, Jones is very lucky to have come into a winning side against moderate opposition. I would probably be better disposed towards him were he not an Australian in all but parentage. Is my prejudice showing? When I first re-established contact with you, I confessed to being fogeyish. Here's proof. At a recent Cricket Society meeting, around two-thirds in attendance said they had been to a Twenty20 match. Taking into account that I am, at 67, one of the younger members, I found it even more distressing when almost all of them said they would go again. Truly, the end of the world is nigh.” Robin, you are just fortunate that The Professor was unable to join us on September 5th.
Cracking Cousins
When a player joins a new club sometimes his credentials take him straight into the first eleven, sometimes even though he is undoubtedly of this standard he is asked to prove himself at the lower levels to satisfy club protocol. When Alf Langley joined Shepherds Bush in 1974 he fell into the latter category alongside another debutant who was of Australian extraction. The indignity of such an occasion can be softened by an understanding skipper who will protect such players from the possibility of a new ball dismissal by putting them in after a pair of stooges has taken off the shine, but even the best laid plans can go wrong. The Great Jack Morgan takes over the story:
By mid-1973, I had been playing exclusively first team cricket for some while and my enjoyment of it had been steadily decreasing. There were various reasons for this, but we won’t go into them here in case you decide to publish them! I found that I was asking myself questions like: Why are you doing this? How much fun are you having? Are you only playing because you like a few beers after? Can’t you think of anything better to do? And when I found that I was getting answers like: “habit, I expect”; “not much”; “probably”; and “definitely”, I knew it was time to retire, so I did. Yet at the start of the ’74 season, I found that I could not give it all away so easily and decided to give it another go.
I was probably rightly selected for the 3rd XI in their opening fixture of the season, which was over Sudbury way, I think, but I have no idea what the opposition were called. Anyway, we found the ground OK and Cousin Jim Revier and I were nominated as the opening pair in a side which contained several debutants, one of whom was a certain Alf Langley, who was listed to bat at no 4. It was the only time that Jim and I ever batted together and Jim immediately looked the superior player, scoring much the quicker. However, I finally managed to find a bit of form and actually overtook Jim in the forties, before he narrowly won the race to fifty. When we were both safely past our fifties, captain Maurice Richfield (who was umpiring at the time) apologetically asked us to get out so that Alf and others could have a bat. We immediately started to play some highly unorthodox strokes (OK, you’re right, we were slogging), but the ball kept hitting the middle of the bat.
It is remarkable that when you are desperate to stay in and get some runs, you can find umpteen different ways of getting out, but when you are actually trying to give your wicket away, you can’t. So when the score had reached 146 with Jim on 70 and me on 71, if memory serves, we both contrived to run ourselves out in order to get the Australian no 3 and the big no 4 to the crease. Strangely, after a mere 30 years, I recall little of the rest of our innings, though I think we reached a slightly disappointing total after such an auspicious beginning. I do remember, however, that the total was good enough to win us the match because I clearly recall taking the winning catch in the gully off Aussie opening bowler Jeff McClure in the very last over. The Acton Gazette headlined their report on the game: “Cracking Cousins”.
Since I am a pedant for exactitude in these matters I solicited Cousin Jim Revier to give his version of the events:
It was an early season Conference fixture which was played at the former Lyons Sports Ground at Sudbury Hill, which was by then Council owned. Jack and I opened the batting and it was to be the only time we ever batted together. A “new Aussie” was due in at number three and Big Alf at number four. I don’t remember who was number five, although if he had any sense he would have been padded up since this would have precluded him from umpiring duties. After a cautious start we soon began to feel comfortable due mainly to the fact that the bowling was total crap. On any other day we would have fancied tons but around four o’clock Maurice came out to take over as umpire and asked us, somewhat sheepishly, if we’d mind getting out so that the new lads could have a bat. We were nice youngish lads and of course agreed.
After giving catching practice for fifteen minutes we eventually both had to run ourselves out. This brought the “new Aussie” and Alf to the crease and suddenly the game looked a whole lot different. Having seen the great man bat before I expected Alfie to be peppering the trains on the adjacent Piccadilly line, but after scratching around for four in fifteen minutes he was dismissed, shortly after followed by the “new Aussie”. Unbelievable! This meant that both Alf and the “new Aussie” had succumbed to big match nerves or that Jack and I had truly tamed a fearsome attack. I lean towards the former but will accept the latter.
Alf was in the first eleven the following week and so, probably, was the “new Aussie”. I was still in the thirds and I don’t think that Jack played much again. I never did score a hundred and I blame Alf!
The final word, at least until we get Alf’s version, comes from the Great Jack Morgan: “Incidentally, I didn’t enjoy the 1974 season any better than the ‘73 season and retired again halfway through the season, after the South Hampstead game, as it happens”.
The Hilda Ovary Trophy-Winners
Steve Thompson provided this picture of the Middlesex Young Cricketers from 1972. Its quality suffers from thirty odd years in the sunlight. But never mind there are some interesting faces. Starting with the distinguished looking gent in the jacket who is standing on the right who is none other than Jack Robertson who taught many of us how to play straight and along the ground in the indoor school at Finchley. Before that he had a distinguished first class career with Middlesex and England as an opening batsman.
David Latchman, who played for Northwood CC is far left standing. His brother, Harry was a regular in the Middlesex side for some years. Next to him is Graham Higgs who played for Alexander Park and then Shambles himself, Steve Thompson. The next three are: Dave Horne (Shepherds Bush), Ian Mansfield (Enfield), and Michael Ashmore (Brondesbury). Between Ashmore and Robertson is none other than Mike Gatting of meat pie fame.
The front row starts with Gary Black who regularly features in these columns from his schoolboy days when he featured in George’s Rolling Stones side at South Hampstead on a Wednesday in1968, through his famous opening partnership on a Sunday with David Jukes when deputizing for Alf Langley, to the Professor discovering earlier this year that he still plays first team cricket despite his knees. Next is Roger Powell of Hatch End who looks more like a member of the Moody Blues, followed by Mark Williams of Brondesbury. Richard Hayward played for Ickenham and Hampshire and finally Colin Tungate of Brondesbury.
I asked Steve what he remembered of his teammates and this auspicious occasion. He replied as follows:
It was taken at Lord's before a match against the Young Pros whose side featured NPD Ross and R O Butcher, as well as Arthur Francis, Rodney Ontong and Barry Lloyd all of whom went on to play for Glamorgan. It was Gatt's first match at Lord's; I opened with him and we put on all of 2! (Gatting 0, Thompson 17) The match ended in a dreadful draw which suffered from the theatre-factor of playing in the middle at Lord's. It was also the first time that I played with Nigel and he may recall that he caught Gatt behind the wicket. Ian Mansfield captained Enfield to the County League title in the 80's. Richard Hayward also played several seasons for Central Districts in New Zealand. The side went on to win the wonderfully named Hilda Ovary Trophy in 1973, this was then the County Young Cricketers' National Competition.
Apart from Gatting and Hayward the other two eye-catchers in the side were Higgs (a left-hander in the Gower mould who became Captain the following season) and, of course, Black. Hayward played for England Schools in '72 and somehow I managed to come through the pack and do the same the following year along with the Future England Captain. One observation is that apart from the Captain, Mark Williams, the rest of the side came from state schools - I wonder what the breakdown is now?
Graham Higgs' brother, Alan, played for Alexandra Park (before moving to Enfield) and featured in that memorable Sunday fixture in the shadow of Ally Pally. On leaving, I recall Ian Jerman waving an awful, unkempt ground behind with the words, 'that's the last time we play there!' We were drawn against them in the first round of the National the following season -away! Sorry - a bit of an aside but it might invite thoughts on “The Worst Grounds I've Played On”.
Jack was our manager for three seasons and was everything that he looked; gentle but with high standards and a wise word for everyone. Before the start of this game he reminded us of the perils of fielding on the Tavern side of the wicket which requires the fielder to overtake the moving ball before bending to pick up - in order to compensate for the slope. I remembered thinking at the time that my only previous experiences of overtaking a moving ball was when it was coming towards me! Needless to say I was not the fleetest of foot in our side and managed to field close to the wicket for the best part of 50 overs before being required to give the Home of Cricket an opportunity to see my arm in action. The impending embarrassment factor played on my mind for the entire pre-lunch session. Did I gamble and go for the relatively shorter Grandstand side of the wicket - with an up hill run and risk that I might have to throw or should I risk the opportunities offered by the acres on the Tavern side. It seemed to me to be at least an 80 yard carry ( a good 30 yards beyond my personal best) but might, with the help of the slope, allow me the luxury of chasing hard all the way to the boundary only to see the incline frustratingly defeat me as it had Bland and others throughout history. At least I didn't have to suffer the sarcastic wit of our keeper shouting “Let it go Steve” as was to be the case for several years to come when our grinning begloved editor was eagerly awaiting my on-the-full, bail-height return!
All ten to no avail
Denis Jones recalls epic struggles from the sixties between Latymer Upper and Battersea Grammar
Details of the Old Grammarians, and mention of Roy Payne and Mike Selvey reminded me of school matches between Latymer Upper and Battersea. It was in 1966, in a 1st XI match, that Graham Carter achieved the feat of taking all 10 wickets, including, I would presume, the two guys mentioned above. On that day, the game was washed out before Latymer's reply to the Battersea innings, but as the Battersea team took an early departure home, they gave a friendly warning that they also had a bowler who was capable of emulating Graham's achievement. Later in the season, in a return match, Mike Selvey duly demolished the top order of Latymer batting, including yours truly. Although we rallied, and made sure that another bowler took at least one wicket, I believe that Battersea took the honours that day. In those pre-crash helmet days, I recall frantically making up my own thigh pad for the first time just prior to the match against Battersea the following season, but on a slowish pitch neither Carter nor Selvey achieved the rapid pace of which they were both capable.
As mentioned when we met at South Hampstead, Graham Carter died approx 10 years ago. I had not seen him for some years beforehand, but through mutual friends, I understand that he succumbed to cancer. He was a fine cricketer and footballer, who seemed destined to play at top level in either of these sports. After our schooldays together, he often seemed to be complaining of niggling injuries, being unavailable to play quite regularly. In retrospect, I wonder if these were the very early symptoms of his cancer.
Turn Right Where?
Gary Rhoades provides another installment in the saga of John Allports navigational shortcomings
I cannot recall precisely when, 1967 perhaps, but it was a midsummer third eleven game somewhere in the Pinner region. As usual, with so many colts and students in the side, car drivers were at a premium and so John Allport’s car was also at a premium. There were five in his car including a fair Barnsdale quota in Len Junior, our opening bat, and his brother Alan.
The cars set off from East Acton Lane in procession as usual and we arrived at the opposition’s ground at about 1.30pm. I say “we” but along the route the John Allport car had become detached from the others. Thankfully we won the toss and obviously we had to bat as there were only six players on the ground. Dave Perrin used to have the same routine even in the first eleven when tossing up before a match to decide whether it was to be a slogging day or a blocking day. Dave wasn’t present on this occasion but this was definitely a blocking day.
Allport’s car eventually arrived at the ground at about ten past four by which time we were three down for not very many. In order to make a game of it we batted on until well after five o’clock which did not impress the opposition one bit. If John Allport got lost on his way to an opposition once he got lost a dozen times. A rare skill.
Oak Vale Wanderers
Wynne Sharp sent me these recollections of her earliest cricketing experiences
My Dad, Charles William Stevens (Pop) was a cricket lover. When I was a small child, about l927, he was "Honorary Secretary" to a wandering cricket club, no ground of their own, called Oak Vale Wanderers ex Oak Vale in Shepherd's Bush, which was not that far from the Q.P.R. ground. I don't know how he got on to them, but he was the regular 12th man. He could hit a 6 sky-high - or get caught.
He built up a wonderful fixture list - all away games of course - including Herstmonceux in Sussex, LPTB I think, Highams Park, Walthamstow and other far-away places. They frequently hired a bus and everybody met up somehow, including our dog who was always sick on the bus.
My mother packed an attaché case that was quite large it seemed to me and I remember most of its contents: a large loaf, a large tin of red salmon, a slab of butter, wrapped in green leaves, a tin of pineapple chunks, bread board and knife, table cloth, cutlery, condiments, wipers for our hands, etc. I can't remember the etc, but it seemed an enormous amount to me.
The cricket bats belonged to the club and we kept them at our house,
standing in linseed oil on a tin tray in the corner. I am pretty sure they
were about twice the size of current bats. We also had the pads, which
Winifred Mary whitened, for sixpence - and, of course, mother washed the umpire's coats. When we had a fixture south or east of London, we used trains, probably Canon Street or Liverpool Street, via Bethnal Green Station - long trips anyway. The train would stop out of the station, over a very high bridge, and small boys down in the street miles below would shout "throw out your mouldies" and, if they were lucky, got a few coins. Coming back through East London, there would be a stop for hot food - pie and chips or stewed eels with mashed potatoes or cold jellied eels, which were lovely.
The chap who was always captain as I remember it was a red-haired man called Ernie Simmonds. There was also a chap called Dickie Bird, but I am sure he did not become an umpire. And apart from my dad's young brother, Les, I can't remember any other names. Ernie's wife was a very useful pianist and regularly played piano in the pavilion when the game was over, for singing and dancing. On reflection, I suppose it was because they were such a social side that they kept these fixtures. One of our regular games was along a lane which ran behind the Acton Main Line Station in Horn Lane. We would walk down this lane quite a considerable way, passing other cricket grounds. The Leamington was the evening venue then. Another of our fixtures was at Sandersons Wallpaper Company's ground on the Western Avenue. This was splendid and it had a swimming pool. Pop used to say to me "you ought to learn to do the scoring kid, you get five bob for that”, and my mother always replied "leave the child to grow up".
Spectators at Club Matches
When I first played at South Hampstead the boundary was encircled by a series of benches and old metal bucket seats. I think that there were also some rows of seats that must have been donated by a cinema. On match days many of these were occupied by spectators who would always take up the same positions around the ground. These were not club members but rather members of the public who would turn up to watch the games. Tony and Audrey Hawdon would speak about the hay days either side of the war when there would be spectators three deep around the ground. By the mid sixties the numbers had dwindled but there could still be around a hundred on a good day.
While the home side was batting it was normal practice to take round the collection box. If for any reason the vice captain forgot to set in motion this procedure the spectators would soon remind someone on a non fiduciary perambulation of the ground, since they wanted to recognize their afternoon’s entertainment by donating coins. The amounts collected were not vast but probably covered the cost of the match ball.
In the north east corner of the ground there was a tea hut by the Bowls Gate. The hut was manned by Lily Coleman and May Checkley on match days and they would serve tea and other refreshments to the spectators on the ground. This service differentiated the spectators from the Honorary Members who would obtain their beverages from the ladies preparing the players teas in the pavilion.
These arrangements changed when the new pavilion was built in1966. The kitchen was situated at the Milverton Road end of the pavilion and its window could be removed and all spectators were served from the resulting hatchway. The Honorary Members then had to mix it with the plebs. At 4pm the signal would go out and those who wanted their teatime fare would join what was often a substantial queue leading to the window.
Irritating trends in modern cricket-number 23 Andrew Strauss cracks another four through extra cover, walks down the wicket towards his partner, say, Andrew Flintoff, they both make fists of their right batting gloves and then mock punch each other’s fist. I had already decided to list this absurd play acting as an Irritating Trend when I received this from the Professor:
“Anyway it does seem pretty daft, as does the now compulsory touching of gloves that batsmen do when ever either scores a run. Just what the point of this particular form of male bonding is I don’t know, nor how it is that cricket has managed to do perfectly well in the last 300 years or so without it.”
My guess is that it is a cricketer’s version of the Afro-Caribbean high five which is a flamboyant form of greeting. But even if this were the case it would only be appropriate when the new batsman first came to the crease. Who does Strauss expect to meet mid wicket after the first time of greeting his partner? He surely is not greeting Flintoff a couple of times an over? Or perhaps it is a form of clapping? No, the Professor’s right. It’s daft.
Rangers Reminiscences
The Great Jack Morgan was so moved by my Rangers reminiscences in the last issue that he felt compelled to add to my catalogue of players and make the inevitable corrections:
Jack Taylor was the Rangers manager of the fifties. Rangers were indeed tenth in 1956-57 and 1957-58 (this latter performance being crucial as it meant that the Rangers avoided the ignominy of being founder members of the fourth division), but failed to do even that well in all the other seasons of Jack’s managerial reign. It is true that the solid defence rarely changed, but Ron Springett really only played two seasons, being preceded by Harry Brown and succeeded by Ray Drinkwater. Wally Colgan definitely filled in for Pat Woods (though only on three occasions), but Albert Pounder never did, he was exclusively a right-winger. Others who deputised for Woods were: Bill Nelson (who also filled in on the left for Ingham), Albert Rhodes, Keith Rutter and Peter Carey (though not during Taylor’s era), before Peter Baker took over in ’61. Bernard Evans, Norman Golding and Brian Bedford were Stock’s signings and did not play under Taylor and Tesi Balogun was certainly not the UK’s first black player. Other forwards from the Taylor period: Clive Clark, Alex Dawson, Les Locke, Johnny Pearson, George Whitelaw, Mike Tomkys, Bill Finney, Doug Orr, Terry Peacock, Tom Standley, Eddie Smith, Bill Temby, Tommy Quigley, Gordon Quinn, Willie Clark, Bill McKay, Ernie Shepherd and Conway Smith. Stock took over in 1959.
And then he sent me more
Tommy Anderson and Brian Kelly were two more of Jack Taylor’s many forwards, who eluded my memory last time. It was certainly not a great period in Rangers’ history, but I do not remember too much dissatisfaction amongst the crowd. I suppose this was because the home performances were generally pretty solid, which kept the fans reasonably happy, while few people ventured to away games in those days so we were spared the consistently dreadful away form. I had the daft idea of picking a team from the Taylor era (daft because I didn’t see the first half of his reign and my youthful judgment may well have been suspect in the second half of his managership), but having had the idea, I felt that I might as well complete the task. I am going along with your unchanging defence en bloc. I thought Brian Nicholas looked a good player when I saw him play for Chelsea and I would be sympathetic to arguments for his inclusion, but as I never saw him play for the Rangers, I am happy to leave the standard defence unchanged. Selection of the forwards, however, is nothing like so simple, but I am happy to ink in the name of Bobby Cameron at number 10 as he was a fine inside forward capable of both creating and taking chances. Amongst some mediocre players, Rangers also possessed two fine wingers during this period, Mike Hellawell and Clive Clark, so it would be perverse to leave either of them out, but I concede that the best of Hellawell was revealed after he had left the Rangers, while the brilliance of Clark reached its maturity under Alec Stock
The trickiest part of this exercise, however is the selection of the two main strikers. Most of the strikers employed in the late fifties varied from the ordinary to the completely useless so I must look back to the mid-fifties and beyond and I will certainly not be able to afford the luxury of rejecting players just because I have not seen them play. I think I saw Conway Smith play for Rangers in the 1955/56 season, (but I cannot be sure because my dad did not buy Rangers programmes (“I know who the Rangers players are and I don’t care who the other buggers are”)) but I cannot remember him very well. A glance at his record of 84 goals in 180 appearances, however, indicates a class finisher and he takes the number 8 shirt, though why he was allowed to move on to Halifax Town (where he scored a further 73 goals in the league alone) seems inexplicable from this distance, especially as Willie Clark also left the club at the same time. I definitely saw Willie Clark play in the 55/56 season, but memories of him have faded rather as well, I’m afraid, but his record of 32 goals in 96 games is not quite as compelling as Smith’s. The number 9 shirt, therefore, goes to a player I did not come close to seeing, but Bert Addinall’s record of 74 goals in 172 appearances puts him in Conway Smith’s class, especially as most of his goals came when the Rangers were a struggling second division side. The best of the rest in the latter half of Taylor’s reign were probably Arthur Longbottom (who hit 67 goals in 212 matches) and Pat Kerrins, who was mainly a winger, but who had some success when switched to centre forward late in the 57/58 season. So here is my strange XI:
1 Ron Springett
2 Pat Woods
3 Tony Ingham
4 George Petchey
5 Keith Rutter
6 Peter Angell
7 Mike Hellawell
8 Conway Smith
9 Bert Addinall
10 Bobby Cameron
11 Clive Clark
There were no substitutes in those days, so I am not picking any. Following the long tradition of selling players in order to allow the club to survive, several of this team were sold on to richer clubs: Springett went to Sheffield Wednesday, Petchey to Crystal Palace, Hellawell to Birmingham City, Cameron to Leeds United and Clark to West Bromwich Albion. Brian Nicholas was also sold on to Chelsea, of course. Springett and Hellawell went on to represent the full England side and Springett was in the 1966 World Cup winning squad. Springett and Clark both returned to Rangers late in their careers, but failed to distinguish themselves. Happily, the arrival of Alec Stock in 1959 saw an improvement on the Taylor era and strong challenges for promotion were staged in both 60/61 and 61/62, when much entertaining football was played and a record 111 league goals were scored in 1961/62.
Strange Elevens
Last month’s Strange XI all obtained degrees from Durham University. The Great Jack Morgan has once again spent his abundant leisure time to good effect and has come up with this bunch who are qualified for a special Jazz Hat
Michael Vaughan
Scott Richardson
Michael Lumb
Richard Harden
Pieter Swanepoel
Gavin Hamilton
Lesroy Weekes
Andy Gray
John Blain
Richard Stemp
Steve Kirby
Earlier Editions
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