The Summer Field

210 Few ever asked Bill Edrich, Denis Compton and Eddie Paynter, all outstanding bats, how they felt about Len Hutton’s 364 at the Oval in 1938; because those three made only 13 runs between them out of the record 903 for seven. Did they suffer guilt, or envy? We forget that we should feel compassion for the successful; because they suffer too. As Hutton batted, hour after hour in that timeless Test – not a true timeless Test, because no man is free of time – he could not rest. He was all the more lonely because he was always in company, of fielders on the field, and off the field teammates, the old players that gathered in the dressing room, and everyone who cared enough to send letters and telegrams – and included him in their prayers, Hutton recalled in old age. And yet no man could share his burden. Hutton acknowledged his debt to his Yorkshire and England teammate Hedley Verity: As my innings developed it was obvious that something out of the ordinary was in the offing and the ever kindly and wise Verity made it his duty to sit with me during every lunch and tea break while I nibbled at a sandwich and supped tea; we both knew that the most likely way I could lose my wicket was by sheer fatigue or a lapse in concentration causing a careless stroke. Hedley sat by my side like a faithful ally to make sure that my thoughts did not wander … his quiet natural dignity was an immense source of strength to me through those long hours. Which man, Hutton or Verity, was the more Christlike? * Into The Void The cover of It Isn’t Cricket, a 1955 English paperback edition of the memoir by Sid Barnes, Australian batsman and 1938 and 1948 tourist of England.