Cricket 1886

SEPT. 23,1886, CKICKET: A WEEKLY EECOED OP THE GAME. 481 T H E DEMON B O W L E R B OW L IN G . ON An I n t e r v ie w w it h M e . S p o f fo r t h . [The following appeared in the Pall Mall Budget early in June, and is reproduced by permission.] T h e other day at Lord’s Mr. Spofforth, stopping a smart return of Lord Harris’s, was hurt and retired wounded. It is the fourth finger of the right hand that is injured, though the extent of the injury Mr. Spofforth scarcely knows as yet. Thousands of amateurs of cricket are thinking to-day about that broken finger, for it will be a very unfortunate affair if the supple finger and the long arm of the demon bowler are no longer to be seen in the contests of the next few weeks. Spofforth draws a big gate, and Spofforth opposed to W. G. is a sight that keen folks would go hundreds of miles to see. There is a satanic glamour about this Mephistopheles of cricket which perhaps has never surrounded any other player. He is a demon, and as such has pene­ trated the imagination of the million. His merits as a bowler is a matter one leaves to experts and the higher criticism. It sounds very like an anti-climax (but one must tell the truth) when one says that the demon was in bed, and very kindly discoursed in his pyjamas on bowlers and bowling, and the wiles of cricket. If he appeared less demoniacal under the circumstances, [it is excusable. Indeed, Mr. Spofforth, demon though he be, is exces­ sively modest, like all who have achieved world-wide fame, and it required some per­ suasion to induce him to fcpeak. There were some questions that he absolutely declined to answer. I asked him, for instance, how he would advise batsmen to play his bowling. If Mr. Spofforth were an egotistical man, with an opinion which nothing could move, one might have attributed this objeotion to diffi­ dence. He might have said: “ Well, my dear sir, it is impossible for me to advise vou. Batsmen can’t play my bowling—argal, there is no method of meeting it.” No such thing. Mr. Spofforth laughed uneasily, turned over on his side, stroked his bandaged hand, and laughed again, the same uneasy laugh. “ That is not a fair question. I think if I gave you my ideas as to how I should play my own bowling, which has been the result of years of study and arduous practice, I should be letting the cat out of the bag. I dare say I have a recipe—but no—I would rather not, thank you. If you ask Mr. Grace, or Barnes, or Shrews­ bury, or Mr. Walter Read, whom I consider the four best batsmen you have, they might tell you. But I prefer to keep the key to the problem locked up here,” said Mr. Spofforth, moving his hand. “ It is no secret, I aare say, but please don’t ask me.” It is just as difficult for the tyro of sport to emerge from obscurity as for the provincial politician to achieve fame in circles political. If he has brains and per­ severance and object, he is pretty sure to suc­ ceed. It is very interesting to hear Mr. Spofforth talk, sometimes looking down on his broken finger or t >ying with the splint, some­ times emphasizing a remark by a concentrated look from his piercing eyes, or a demoniacal smilewhich is reallyvery good natured. It was this same that suggested a question as to whether the demon ever lost his temper or got violent when he was being hit about “ Not a bit of it. I may feel disappointment if a man misses a catch, but angry if runs are got off me—never. That would be absurd. Runs are bound to be got, no matter who bowls.” Here are the chief points of our conversation:— “ What is the first duty of a bowler, Mr. Spof­ forth?” “ To lead astray the batsman,” replied he, with a cynical smile—“ to lead him astray by never allowing him to guess what is coming. So far as I am concerned I may send a very quick ball (I have never yet put all my strength into it), the next may be correspondingly slow. Therein, I consider, lies any power I may have as a bowler— this ability to vary the pace from the very quick to the very slow. Then I try to deceive him by break and variety of pitch. If you know your batsman from previous meetings, a good bowler. knows hisweak points. I am speaking of thebest known men in the world of cricket. When I am bowling against a batsman whose peculiarities I am not acquainted with, I generally guage him by his style, and have his stock inthree or four overs. I dare say a batsman would tell you the same thing about a bowler. "We try to lead each other astray, but the batsman is generally the first to betray himself. Having penetrated the armour, then I go for him, ticklinghim and tempting him. He fancies he has got my guage by one style of break. Then I try another, and suddenly revert to the first; or one puts, by the manner of holding the ball, a spin on that will not causc it to turn out of its course. The batsman may think by the action of the delivery that the ball will turn out of its course when it possibly finds it way to the wicket. But it is a difficult matter to explain. As I find a batman is inclined to hit, to play back, or to play forward, so I tempt him, sometimes trying to ‘beat the bat’—that is, going straightfor his wicket, at others alluring him to hit so as to place the ball in the hands of one of the field. When do I consider myself unlucky? Well, when 41beat the bat ’—that is, pass the bat—and miss the wicket by an eighth oi an inch. Then I feel angry. But every bowler knows these things. Personally I seldom go straight for bowling a man. I think Grace by far the best bat in the world. Some first-rate cricketers, after they have got twenty or thirty runs, will begin to slog. Grace never does this. He always means busi­ ness. He is up to every move. In fact, he is very difficult to lead astray. I think Crossland is a faster bowler than myself. In my Old days in Australia, long before I became known, a captain of a team would ask me to moderate my pace; but I used to use my own judgment, and did as I thought best. It was very disagreeable to be in­ structed how to bowl. But that is a thing of the past.” “ You must practise much and keep your eye and hand in, and your body in training?” “ I never practise. I seldom play in Australia— half a dozen times a year, perhaps, and asI watch myself closely I always find when I come over here that I am seldommuch good until after the fourth match. By that time I have got my muscles in trim and my eye in good order—(Mr. Spofforth now looks like a typical athlete, eyi clear and face ruddy and tanned)—the match tni other day againstOxford was'an exception. Then I am up to my best average to the end of th« season. Of course one has good days and bad days, for which there is no accounting. To return to the matterof practisingat cricket. To a certain extent it is good, of course, and material. But I have always found that I requirethe stimulus and excitement of a match to put me on my mettle. If I practise at a net in the usual wayone is apt to become careless. One bowls perhaps to a man who objects to getting hurt ingloriously, and very naturally, though he thinks nothing of it in a big match. So I hold—please remember that this is only my own opinion—that practice, unless very th« rough, very much in earnest, is not good, as it tends to becomecareless and slovenly, andteaches bad habits, which are with difficulty eradicated. You ask me about training. I take it that one of the beauties of cricket is that it requires none of the severe self-denial, the selection of particular diet in its practice. Personally I don’t always have a pipe or a cigar in my mouth, but I smoke, nor am I a total abstainer. No, I never make any difference in my habits, and the constant training of the cricket-ground is sufficient, at any rate, for men who are playing every day. Of course one wants wind and power of lasting, but a man never runs more than sixty or eighty yards at a time, and he has long spells in between. Those are my views. Do I ever feel nervous ? I cannot say that I ever do. Excited? yes, on occasions.” “ Do you ever try to frighten a batsman?” “ If a batsman is timid he is frightened long before I get at him. That’s the worst of apowerful imagination. I certainly never go for a batsman with right down intent to frighten him. If he don’t like my speed, that’s his look-out, not mine.” “ What do you consider your best performance in England?” “ Well, perhaps my best was in the great match at the Oval, when we beat you by seven runs. But I don’t think I ever bowled better than I did the other day at Oxford, when I took nino wickets for some thirty odd runs. But bowling performances depend upon so many things. Every bowler naturally likes what is called a ‘ sticky wicket ’— that is, a pitch that is soddened with rain, which is almost fatal to run-getting, though it is also fatal to very fast bowling.” “ Supposing you wished to train a boy tobecome a bowler, what would you advise?” “ Bowl with the brains. Brains, I assure you, enter more largely into sport than is generally imagined. But to return to your question. I can only tell you my own experience. I may say that I learned to bowl as one learns to read. In the days of my tuition I was a great copyist. I was always changing from one style to another. I saw a particular kind of delivery, or a variety of pitchy in another bowler. I watched him carefully, and then I did my best to imitate him. So it was with pace. In the early days of Australian cricket, and before the visits of English cricketers, no bowler had discovered how to break a ball. This was an art I found out for myself. Then it was only by dint of constant perseverance that I overcame prejudice. The critics and the press used to run me down. They likened me to a bull running at a gate. But I didn't care a jot. I weighed the criticisms in my mind and went on trying this, that, and the other. Somehow I generally got wickets, and that satisfied me. If I came off that was enough. I knew I couldn’t be far out. They said I threw, and they were right. I did throw once, but when I foimd that out, after the differ­ ence had been explained to me (of course, that is a long time ago), I went to work and corrected it. Ah! it is not easy to make a name. I tried and tried again for years. If I bowled well they said it was luck; if I took wickets it was luck; my break was luck again or the wicket.” “ A great bowler is born and not made, eh, Mr. Spofforth? Great bowling is a heaven-born gift?” “ Not a bit of it,” replied the demon, smiling. “ As I have said, you must use your brains if you have got any. No, I should say a bowler is made— he must be born, you know. You ask for my own experience. In my youthful days I had cricketing aspirations, and cricket in the colonies was at a low ebb. In those days, when I was very keen and very ambitious, I thought I should like to become a bowler, and I really studied it as a problem. I used to think for myself how such and such a pitch, or such and such a speed, would affect a batsman. I used to propound mentally the most difficult combinations to overcome a batsman. Having thought of a certain style, as a billiard player might of a particular stroke, I went down to the ground to give it practical effect. An Eng­ lish professional player who was engaged by us, and who was in those somewhat remote days by far the best bowler in Australia, used to go to the wickets, and I used to try my new idea. He would then criticise. And thus I was constantly trying, first as a mental problem, then as a practical result. By this means I used to guage myself for years.” “ Whom do youconsider the best Englishbowler —from your own experience?" “ If by my own experience you mean whom do I personally, as a batsman, consider the most for­ midable, I cannot answer you. Every batsman has his own pet bowler off whom he can generally get runs, and every batsman his own peculiar bugbear whom he detests, from a cricketing point of view. Now, I sometimes meet with men who really like to play my bowling, and who generally score off it, while there are otherswhowould avoid it. As a bowler, and judging with a critical eye, in my own opinion, Peate is far the best and most dangerous English bowler. As I have said about myself, some find they can play Peate better than a much less formidable bowler. But him I place first, though I must ask you to say that I only give this as my own individual opinion, though I express it very strongly. He constitutes the first- class in the lists; there are many competitors for the second, whom I need not enumerate.” “ Will Australia continue to send us such cricketers as your famous team?” “ Cricketers, I think, come in cycles. The best Australians now before the public were the best men six or eight years ago. I speak generally; of course every year brings new recruits, but. if you think my opinion worth repeating, it is that there are interregnums in cricket.” “ Dangers of cricket? Very few I should think. Of course aman gets hurt sometimes. I have had my right hand broken twice. That was at Scar­ borough in 1880. It was badly set, and had to be broken again. But those are mere trifles after all —the chances of war,” continued Mr. Spofforth, smiling. And, shaking his left hand, I departed. CLAPTON v. MR. F. H. CITY’S XI. Played at Clapton on September 11. F. H. C it y ’s XI. J. Buchanan, c Low, b Emmerson ... 5 W. Austin, 1 b w, b Nixon ...............45 C. Gowland, st Low, b Emmerson ... 3 J. A. Jenkins, b Em­ merson ............... 0 B 18,1b 10,wl... 29 G. W. City, b Davis Pickett, c Armstrong, bEmmerson........52 W.B.Tyndall, bNixon 19 J. W. Lowles, c and b Emmerson........ 13 F. H. City, b Emmer­ son ..................... 0 C. E. Munro, c Wm. Low, b Emmerson 4 F. Hallam, not out ... 17 C la pt o n . Wm. Low, b Pickett 3 I J. C.Shenton, J. W. Emmerson, b j Pickett ........ Pickett .............. 11 B 12, w 2 ... J. H. Douglas, not out 12 S. A. AsBer, c F. H. Total ... City, b Pickett ... 11 ' W. H. Davis, M. Armstrong, W. Briggs, Walter Low, S. S. Nixon, and C. M. Tebbit did not bat. Total ...196 b ... 0 ... 14 ... 51