The Summer Field
135 Why the drastic loss of productivity? That the authorities felt they had to order a minimum – which teams took as their norm – is a clue. Some blamed bowlers with needlessly long run-ups, or captains for wasting time to avoid defeat or to save their fast bowlers. Significantly, Len Hutton as the first professional captain of England did both, to save the fourth Test at Leeds in 1953, and in Australia in 1954/55 respectively. That professional teams bowled perhaps a fifth more slowly than the previous norm, in whatever climate, or whatever their mix of slow and fast bowlers, suggests that players were rebelling against hours of work that changed for the worse. As Lord Desborough put it in his 1932 essay: ‘As the money comes in, the fun goes out and cricket and football have become serious professions.’ The pro’, the son of a worker rather than a lord, like any workman was sensitive to changes in his working conditions, besides his pay. While professional pay rose from the 1970s – and with perks such as a sponsored car went beyond the average – it came at a price in working hours. A go-slow on the field was the unspoken response. Contrast the hours of Charles Bray, the 1930s amateur Essex captain, with Essex and Derbyshire fast bowler Tony Palladino, speaking to an audience in May 2013 when rain cut short a one-dayer at Derby. Bray recalled in old age that as the London editor of an Irish newspaper he had to write a ‘London letter’ of 1000 words after play: ‘Rarely did I get home until 2am and I had to be back at Leyton by 10.30 the next morning.’ In other words, players only had to report for work shortly before play. Tony Diment of Leicestershire described the pro’s leisurely routine as well as anyone in the county’s 1956 yearbook: the late breakfast just before 9.30am (‘much to the annoyance of the hotel staff’) so the players were not left hungry before lunch; and the ‘ritual stories’ as men caught up from the morning paper with other players and teams. At the ground, the captains walked slowly towards the wicket for the toss while the rest drank tea. Palladino spoke of getting to the ground for 8.15am on match days, and going in the gym, ‘as bowlers like to be loose’. The coaches liked to have players from 9.45am, whether to do ‘strength conditioning’ or catching practice. As fielders took until perhaps 6.20pm to finish the minimum overs, that made for a long summer of long days. Nor did a 20-over match, begun in the afternoon or at 7pm, give a restful morning; Palladino spoke of originally playing the FIFA football game on his Xbox, which left his mind ‘drained’. He learnt his lesson and went in the gym instead. The 21st century county professional could claim the season was a grind; yet it had long been so. Yorkshire were playing 30 or more three-day games from at least the 1890s; and that total of 90 days’ play happened to match the 2013 total – of 16 four-dayers, 12 one-dayers and ten 20-over matches - if a county reached the two one-day competitions’ semi-finals and finals. What was new, then, was the players’ self-confidence to do their jobs, given the chance, a fifth or more slowly. We return, then, to the narcissism of the 21 st century player, forearms bulging with gym-made muscles and green with tattoos, like the rest of us trying not to work too hard, yet forgetting that sport is there to satisfy others, whether members, TV subscribers, or sponsors. Batting and Bowling
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