Clem Hill's Reminiscences

first over. I was as much bewildered as the batsmen were. They missed nearly every ball, being beaten for pace. I really thought, when I stopped the first one, that I was going to be carried back to the boundary. My hands were knocked to pieces. I gave up wicket-keeping. H.R.Orr, the captain of that Western Australian team, and I met in Melbourne last week, and after a lapse of 40 years exchanged reminiscences. I did not know him. Hughie Trumble introduced us. And now for my third piece of luck. Stoddart’s team of 1894 was playing South Australia on the Adelaide Oval. I was made twelfth man. Jack Noel dropped out through injury, and I took his place. My lucky star in the ascendant again. When the Englishmen returned to Adelaide after having played in the eastern states I scored 150 and 56 against them. Tom Richardson, the best fast bowler I ever faced, was a fine old stick. I recollect that once when I hooked him round to the square-leg boundary – the shot that my sports master had objected to – Archie MacLaren came up and said, ‘Great shot, Clem, my boy!’ and turning to Richarson enquired, ‘What do you think of the boy hitting you like that?’ To which Richardson replied, ‘I don’t mind being hit for four with a stroke like that.’ After such a score – my first century in first-class cricket – imagine how disappointed I was when I found that I had not been chosen to go to England. The reason was that Bill Howell, playing for New SouthWales in Adelaide, had bowled me with a real trimmer, which I attempted to glance. It pitched outside the leg stump, and hit the off peg! And a couple of other small scores had followed. I was sitting in the Sydney Cricket Ground recently when Howell reminded Harry Moses and Hugh Massie, two former internationals, of that ball and of how he nearly robbed me of my first trip to England. I have to thank Sydney cricket enthusiasts and my good fortune again for my inclusion in the team for England after having been omitted. I made 206 not out against New South Wales, and this I followed with 74 on a sticky wicket for the Rest of Australia against the team to go to England. A demand went up for me to be one of the tourists. Then Jack Harry, who had been chosen as the second wicket-keeper, hurt himself, and the selectors decided to leave him behind. Jim Kelly was picked to take his place. There was no Board of Control. The cricket associations in New South Wales, Victoria and South Australia each had a selector. The selected team met and decided to send an extra man, and I was invited. There was an amusing incident in that match, Rest of Australia versus the Australian XI. Alf Johns, who had been chosen as wicket-keeper for the touring side, was anxious to be a success on the Sydney ground, and he knew that so far as taking the other bowlers was concerned he would be quite at home, but Tom McKibbin was always a puzzle to any wicket-keeper when he was bowling at his best on a sticky wicket. He could bowl a leg-break with scarcely any alteration of his action at all, and no end of watching. With the idea of assisting Johns it was arranged between the two that Tom should touch his cap when he A Matter of Luck 16