Cricket 1886

NOV. 25,1886. CEICKET: A WEEKLY EECOED OP THE GAME. 467 want experience of this branch of the sport, let them try it for an over. All sorts and kinds of enduranceare required, moral as well as physical—not so much the endurance required for a long innings, the excitement carries that along somehow— but the endurance required for a long day’s fielding by tired fielders, to look cheerful and to get across quickly to your place when you would like to be lying flat on your back. On one of the many occasions that it has fallen to my lot to have to field against an enormous total, our bowling was not very strong, and was quickly collared, and runs mounted at a terrific pace. After about two hours of it I passed close to one of our bowlers and he said the few simple words, “ It’s dogged as does it.” This phrase has stuck to me a good deal, and I have used it to myself many times in quite other matters, and I hope with benefit. This doggedness is a part of an Englishman’s character, it is a real virtue and should be encouraged in every possible way. Nowhere can it be practised better than as a bowler keeping up an end against a big score. They do not lose heart, they keep on to the end, and whether that end is a wicket or ‘ time,” they will do their level best. Modesty is also a strongly marked virtue belonging to the noble game. Cricketers are, as a rule, modest. There are of course excep­ tions, as to every rule, but the game is so fearfully uncertain that you will find there is every encouragement, at least, to be humble. Until the runs are made you cannot have the least certainty that you will make them. Until you have actually played the ball, and have done with it, you cannot tell that you may not have to be returning to the dressing room in a few moments, a truly miserable mortal. Every reason here for humility. Pride most certainly goes before the fall of a wicket, and one is not likely to be very con­ ceited when it is quite possible you may have only one or two overs in the, whole of a three- day match. A great lesson in self-confidence or reliance upon a man’s own unaided efforts is taught in an uphill innings, in bowling, and in almost every department of the game, and to be suc­ cessful, a cricketer must be temperate in drinking, and temperate in eating too, must go to bed not too late, and generally keep steady, or he will one day find himself shunted from the eleven. Perhaps one of the most special qualifica­ tions of the game is good temper. A man if he is not good-tempered or cannot keep his temper under due control will not be a success­ ful cricketer. All sorts of trials and annoy­ ances will happen to everyone in the field. They should all be taken as they come as a part of the day’s work. To be badly run out when well set, to be given out by an umpire when you know you are in, to have to field through a cold dreary afternoon in a north­ east wind in May on a losing side—these and a multitude of other things are a great trial to a man’s temper. I am not saying that a man should be indifferent whether he scores or not. I know young fellows who really do not care a straw whether they get a pair of spectacles or not. To be so indifferent or good-tempered, or whatever you call it as that, is to show a oor appreciation of the game, and it is very oubtful whether such a one will ever take the pains to become a good cricketer; but the annoyance of being out, keen as it is, must be suppressed, it must be kept under. It is a reat game, cricket, for the temper. It is so ifferent from other games. At lawn tennis a man makes a bad shot, what of that ? he can shoot away all the afternoon. A man misses an easy shot at a partridge. Never mind, there is another covey at the corner of the barley—but for a real solid trial of temper take a young man who has travelled a long way, over a hundred miles perhaps, to play in a good match. The weather is just turning from a dull cold mist into warm sunshine. Friends and sisters, perhaps a pretty cousin, too, are just arriving on the ground. There comes a ball down that debatable twenty-two yards of turf—a straight half volley. He hits a little too quickly, perhaps with a slightly crooked bat, and the fearful sound ot the rattling bails is a sensation, for which no other game has an equivalent. The young batsman with something under double figures to his credit walks back to the pavilion, out­ wardly unconcerned, but with his left hand locked very tightly, and with a very clear mark of teeth on the lower lip. As he reaches the pavilion some kind friend, generally a satirical beast, says, “ Hard lines, old chap, what did it do ? ” “ Bowled me,”’ is the answer, and nothing more is said on the sub­ ject. This, believe me, is no mean trial of reserve and self-command. He who cannot control his temper on the cricket ground will if he does not take care make only a poor show of his life, and an unhappy home for wife and children; and as a control of temper is one of the grreatest needs of daily life, let the boy begin early, and the earlier the better, to learn the lesson in the best of all schools, the cricket field. He will, moreover, learn many other quali-j ties more important to him than Greek or Latin; of greater influence for good in the world of action than the theorems of Euclid or Algebraic formulae. A thoroughness in detail, in other words an attention to small duties, of which life is principally composed, but which are often sadly neglected. A good school captain will make his team play up, they will continue to play up through the whole of their lives. To get across quickly to your place between the overs, to field with two hands on every occasion when you can get them both to the ball, to back up the fieldsman next you, even when it entails that wearisome trot from short-slip or point to behind the wicket-keeper, perhaps for a dozen times before there is any occasion ; never to be careless or slovenly in fielding, to cultivate a quick “ unwound up ” return—these are a few of the opportunities that the teacher of cricket has of instilling some good practical lessons into his pupils. Quiokness of eye, promptness in meeting difficulties, moral or physical what­ ever they may be, coolness in a crisis, “ a right judgment in all things,” an indisposition to fret at all the imaginary troublis of daily life, these are the fruits of such a game as that we are considering, fairly played and developed to its fullest extent. The opportunity which one man grasps so readily, but which another lets pass by him, that “ tide in the affairs of men, which, when taken at th* flood, leads on to fortune,” what is this but the quickness of the hand and judgment following the eye, why such a thing happens many times in nearly every match. The words of the poet might really almost have been written— “ There is a chance in the careers of men, Which taken at the wicket leads on to fortune— Omitted, all the progress of the match, Is bound in shallows and in miseries.” Let any one compare the chances missed in the field with the chances missed in life, they are in both cases attributable to bad judgment, carelessness, sloth, or conceit. The question of health, of course, is para­ mount, especially in these days when only a close application to the desk or to the counter will enable a man to make both ends meet. There is no healthier game than cricket. It possesses all the charm of being played in an uncertain climate like that of England. Boys get not to fear a cold day, nor do they need an umbrellato protect them from the sun. There is no very violent exertion in it, nothing in the way of undue strain to be compared with foot­ ball, with running, or with rowing. You cannot hurt yourself at cricket in the way of over-exertion, if you try. Nature stops you every eighteen yards and gives you a breath, also after every four or five balls bowled. The muscles are brought into free play, whether all of them or not let the doctors decide, enough at any rate to make one suffer excru­ ciating agony after the first day’s practice at the nets. Here I cannot avoid giving cricketers apiece of advice, not so much young ones, they do not stand in much need of it, but men whose occupations are more or less sedentary during the winter. Be sure every morning from the first of October to the end of April, to have five minutes’ Indian club exercise while you are dressing, the less clothes on the better. The clubs should not be heavy, and the exer­ cises, or quite enough of them for your pur­ pose, are most easily learnt out of any little primer of athletics. Be sure to give special attention to that exercise which makes you touch the ground and draw up the body to your full height again very quickly some dozen times, in fact, “ to sit down on your heels.” If you do this you will find it much easier to get down to the ball in the field than is so often the case with cricketers who have passed the first blush of youth. How often you hear men say “ I am not so young as I was, I can’t get down to the ball.” This get- ing down to the ball quickly up to the age of Tom Emmett, say forty-five, will prevent your ever becoming what is popularly termed a “ crock.” In the field of cricket and of other sports, the man with less brains than his neighbour will argue thus:—“ Never mind, old fellow, I wouldn’t change with you! I rowed in the eight! I make both ends meet, and as to what I have I have health enough to enjoy it.” In business, in a street row, in all the bustle and turmoil of life, let us have a cricketer by our side if we can, let him have brains too as well, but if he has only one of the two, let it be the cricket first, it will be more useful. Therefore I am for more cricket at school, not less, more scientific teaching, more good coaching, more interest taken in it by masters, more interest taken in it by parents. Let it be recognised as a fundamental part of school teaching, and not as a necessary evil, and let men re­ visiting their old school be prouder of nothing than that their names were to be found in the lists of the School Eleven. PADDINGTON CLUB. Matches played 40—won 25, [drawn 6, lost (j. B A T T IN G A V E R A G E S. Times Most in Inns, not out Runs an Inn. Aver. J. Bates........ ... 16 ... 3 . . 585 ... 130 .. 45 A Wilkins ... ... 6 .... 1 .. 155 ... 43 ... 31 W. Winter ... ... 9 ... 0 . . 137 ... 54 .. 15.2 H. Tyler ... 15 ... 2 . . 191 ... 95*.. 14.9 G. R. Wood... ... 10 ... 0 . . 148 ... 92 .. 14.8 W. F. King ... ... 15 ... 1 . . 158 ... 85 .. 11.4 A. E. Arscott ... 15 ... 2 . . 175 ... 61 .. 13.6 J. H. Oxenham ... 13 ... 0 . . 146 ... 27 .. 11.3 W. Gander ... ... 22 ... 0 . . 239 ... 38 .. 10.19 W. G. Hills ... ... 21 ... 5 . . 172 ... 42 .. 10.12 J. H. Jackman ... 6 ... 0 . . 59 ... 21 .. 9.5 G. Allen........ ... 7 ... 2 . . 44 ... 19 .. 8.4 G. MacDonald ... 12 ... 1 . . 87 .. 13 .. 7.10 A. E. Westell ... 15 ... 1 . . 106 .. 32 .. 7-8 E. Stickley ... ... 14 ... 1 . . 84 .. 31*.. 6.6 J. Porter ... 8 ... 1 . . 45 .. 17*.. 6.3 W. P. Arscott ... 13 2 66 .. 17 ... 6 J. G. Ives Under 5 innnings. ... 4 ... X ... 36 .. 31 .. 10.1 H. J. Hillier... ... 3 ... 0 .. 26 .. 20 ... 8.2 R. H. Beachcroft 2 ... 0 . . 15 .. 13 .. 7.1 6.3 J. Izod .............. ... 4 ... 0 .. 27 .. 12 ... B O W L IN G A V E R A G E S . Overs. M dns. Runs. W kts. Aver. H. T yler ... ... 67.1 ... 21 ... I ll ... 27 .. . 4.3 E . Stickley ... ... 94.4 ... 31 ... 131 .. . 29 .... 4.15 G. R . W o o d ... ... 96.4 ... 29 ... 164 .. . 37 .. . 4.16 W. G ander ... ...128.3 ... 36 ... 227 ... 43 .. . 5.12 W. W inter ... ... 83.4 ... 18 ... 190 .. . 31 .. . 6.4 W .F . K ing ... ... 69 ... 16 ... 150 .. . 11 ..., 13.7 U nder 50 overs. A. W ilkin s ... ... 27.1 ... 6 ... 44 .. . 15 ..., 2.14 E . A . L on g ... ... 28.4 . .. 11 ... 45 .. . 12 ..., 3.9 A . E . W estell ... 2J ... 5 .i .. 48 ... . 12 ... 4 A . E . A rscott ... 31 .... 10 .. 48 .. . 9 ... 5.3 W. G . H ills ... ... 41.2 . 6 ... 120 .. . 17 ... 7.1 Next Issue December 30