Gubby Under Pressure

convinced it meant that he would not play on the whole trip. Since then it has done nothing but get worse and what is even worse, he has given up hope himself.’ What Allen does not go on to describe is his frantic dash back from the Kalgoorlie goldfields when he hears from Howard that Ames was determined to return to England. Allen had taken advantage of the three day break between matches to accept an invitation from a business associate to tour the gold mines, and was actually deep underground when the message reached him. Allen’s uncharacteristic silence concerning his dramatic journey back was forced upon him by the MCC ban on air-travel for any player under contract. He knew his parents might pass his letters on to Plum Warner, so he dare not mention what happened next for fear of a reprimand from Lord’s. The manager of the mine had driven him to a local airport and placed his single-engined plane and pilot at his disposal. It turned out to be less of a time-saver than anticipated. Flying against buffeting winds, the little plane was thrown about to such an extent that Allen was made violently sick and unable to continue. The pilot made an unscheduled landing beside the main road to Perth, where Allen hailed a passing motorist who agreed to take him back to the team’s hotel. There he found Ames flat on his back and in some distress. Writing to Warner a month later with a review of the tour to date, Allen revealed: ‘I had a terrible time with Leslie in Perth, as he cried his heart out and said he wanted to go home. Finally I had to snap him up and tell him he had no guts and I honestly believe that did the trick’. Ames himself would later admit to biographer Alan Hill, ‘But for Gubby I would certainly have gone home.’ The team was about to start a three night continuous train journey across the Nullarbor Plain, followed by 125 miles of what Bruce Harris called ‘bumpety bump’ motoring, to Clare to play a one day game. Hardly something that Ames, in his condition, would have appreciated, so it was time for Allen to take positive action. ‘I have packed him off by boat to Melbourne, in the care of Robbie, to see some doctors as it is too quick to send him home, but I am sure there is no hope and I shouldn’t be surprised if he is on his way home by the time you get this letter. It has left a terrible gap in the Test XI and is a really serious blow. I have not told the press how serious I think he is, as I don’t want people to become unduly alarmed until I know for absolute certain.’ A week later, writing from Adelaide, Allen remained despondent. ‘Ames and Robbie telephoned me fromMelbourne last night, the latter’s finger is much better, but I am afraid it will be some time before he will be able to spin the ball properly, as he broke the most important finger on his bowling hand. Ames’ position is much more worrying and he has been much worse than I have led the papers to believe. The doctor whom he went over to Melbourne specially to see telephoned me to say that he ought to have his tonsils out. I found out that he had taken no swabs from his throat and, as the specialist in London said they were quite all right just before he left, I have rather lost faith in him. Also he made the ludicrous statement that he would be fit to play two weeks after the operation. Perhaps he thinks Test matches are child’s play. I know how I felt after I had mine out and Hammond took a good ten weeks before he was any good. However we shall have to make some decision when we have heard what the swabs show on arrival in Melbourne tomorrow.’ Managing the show 20