Cricket 1887
NOV. 2 4 , 1887. CR ICKET :' A W E E K L Y RECORD OF THE G AM E . 463 THE SORROWS OF CRICKET. In this present cricketing age when, it must be admitted by the most ardent enthusiast for the grand old game, the tendency, at least amongst ordinary players, is too prevalent of allowing the general welfare of an eleven to be subsidiary to the personal distinction of the individual, it is strange how, from various causes, partakers in what, after all, is but a relaxation and recreation, allow themselves to be agitated by feelings of disappointment and mortification which almost amount to absolute grief. Feeling* which were formerly amongst the old players but of momentary duration, and which soon became stifled by the general interest in the game, are now brooded over and treasured up; mishaps and buffets of ill-fortune are taken to heart, and are alluded to after wards with much the same pathos that we allude to a sad accident or a crushing blow. We may try to soften the wound by inventing excuses—and there never was such a fertile ground of exouses as the cricket field—so as, if possible, to swell our individuality, or, rather, to prevent its diminution in the eyes of our comrades; but the grief rankles, and, so far as we are concerned, the game, is.robbed of much of its charm and interest. To sit in a cricket pavilion and listen to the explanations and excuses of unfortunate batsmen is a very amusing recreation, for it is remarkable how very few men confess that they have been fairly and honestly beaten. Jones, caught in the long-field, explains that the bat twisted in his hand as he hit the ball. Brown, clean bowled, finds fault with the ground, and declares that if the fatal ball had not pitched in a hole he must have driven it over the boundary. Robinson, leg-before-wicket, flatly disputes the umpire’s fiat, and Robinson only acts on the apparent tradition amongst a certain class of players, that to be out leg- before-wicket is next to a physical impos sibility. Smith, run out, lays the blame on his partner, who did not back up, or who did not come when he was called. When none of these excuses can be decently urged there is always the light or the ground to blame—any thing, in fact, but the player’s own incapacity, or rashness, or want of judgment. So, from the almost universal prevalence of the habit, we may presume that some sort of consolation is obtainable from the making of excuses. But the sorrow remains, in spite of explanation and excuse, and however much the maker may flatter himself that he has succeeded in im posing upon his comrades by them, and has preserved his reputation, the canker gnaws at nis heart for the rest of the day with all the force of a genuine sorrow. A bowler is a man of many sorrows. He oannot get men to hold the catches for which he bowls, and regards his most artful efforts in the light of pearls cast before swine. Or there is an incapable man behind the wicket who allows leg-bails to go by, and misses palpable chances of catching and stumping. There is the sorrow of the famous lob-bowler who is treated with contempt by an unscientific Hercules with a true eye, who runs half-way along the pitch, and skies his cunningest deliveries over the boundary. There is the sorrow of the fast bowler, who beholds his straight balls pulled away, Nottingham wise, t) the leg side, and who is snicked and poked about for irritatiug fours and twos, and how ever ridiculous it may seem to include such feelings in the category of sorrow, any bowler will testify to their keenness. Of course the sorrows of the batsmen are more keen, for every man in an eleven aspires to make runs, but every man does not aspire to shine in another department of the game. A man may be heard to allude to the degradation of being last in the order of going in, as if a personal insult was thereby conveyed to him, an I to resent the super-position of Jones or Robinson, as if the cricket field was a sort of Verona, where Montagues and Capulets quarrelled over tho biting of a thumb. The long-field who catches the batsman’s splendid drive, becomes a personal enemy of the latter for the timo being, and the wicket-keeper who stumps him is eyed like a brigand or a burglar. But there is no pang like that which follows the clatter of one’s wicket after the first ball Sorrow may be the lot of the unfortunate bowler, of the peccant fieldsmau, of the bats man, but to be bowled first ball is sheer agony, and that plain, bold, white ring on the telegraph~boardv which seems to jump into prominence quicker than any other figure, has been the source of untold cricket-field grief a:id vexation. What enjoyment remains for the owner of the “ duck,’' especially if the “ duck ” be the result of the first ball ? What i3 it to him if his side wins a glorious victory ? He has done nothing towards it; he might have been at home for all the influence his presence has had on the issue of the game. Little salve is it for him to capture a wicket or two; better far, he opines, is it to do than to prevent others froan doing—that is to say, if he himself be not a bowler. Moreover, it is so exquisitely humiliating to have arrayed one self in all the panoply of pads and g lo v e 3 , to have taken careful guard, to have surveyed the position of the field with the air of a general seeking out a weak spot in the enemy’s army, and to return the next minute, bat, pads, gloves, and all, sad, angry, and humbled, the object of the silent but poignant ridicule. The fieldsman’s sorrows are the lightest of all, and are confined to the dropping of catches, over throwing, and the misfielding of balls. The momentary humiliation of missing an easy catch is certainly very great, but unless the mistake have a remarkable influence upon the state of the game, it may be far more easily atoned for by the making of some runs, than the fatal “ duck’s egg ” can be atoned for by good fielding—at least, such would seem to be the case generally. Even the sole inactive occupant of the cricket field—the umpire— has his sorrows, and heavy ones. Unless he be known by fame and name he is very open to the accusation of being partial—his decisions may be said never to be accepted with entire unanimity, and although he be abovesuspicion, he is certain tooffend someone during the course of the match—a bowler for having no-balled him, a crack bat for having given him run outor leg-before-wicket. Finally, the shoulders of the captain of a team should be of Atlantean dimensions. He must, be ready to bear indis criminate ridicule and abuse ; he must possess sufficient suaviter in modo to soothe carpers, cavillers, and advisers, and enough of the fortiter in re to act according to his own judg ment. The veriest greenhorn in the crowd who cannot distinguish between a fair catch and a bump-ball criticises him ; he puts him self on to bowl too often, or keeps himself on too long; his judgment in the change of bowlers, in the disposition of the field, in the order of going in, is sure to be objected to by someone. Great things are expected of him individually, and excuses are not readily accepted for non-performance; and, whatever the issue of the match may be, some good- natured friend or other is sure to opine that with different captaincy it might have been otherwise—that if it be won it might have been won more easily, and if it be lost it might have been won. From all of which it may be fairly concluded that the captain who can successfully fulfil all these conditions is an extromely rara avis , who is born and not made. But, after all, although there is a ridiculous side to the earnestness with which Englishmen play cricket, this very earnestness is the essential of the game, and is by no means to be deprecated. Better it is that a man should take his misfortune to heart, even to an almost absurd extent, than that he should play with listless apathy, careless of his own reputation, and bound by no esprit de corps to the side he represents. The taking to heart of misfortunes means the learning of lessons, and may be said to be at the root of the marvellous improvement in English cricket all round since the visit of the first Australian teams to the Old Country. The inte’ligent foreigner long since remarked that we take our pleasures sadly, but he was too superficial in his observation, and should have said that we enjoy ourselves earnestly. Cricket is eminently a sociable game, but tho sociability has a stamp of sternness and even severity about it which admits of no intrusion of flippancy and half-heartedness; and, it may be said, that there is very often far more mirth and joking at an English funeral feast than in a cricket pavilion during the progress of & great match. Moreover, cricket has in its way become just as much a science as the “ ologies,” and it is trite to remark that Science will not unfold her hidden secrets to those who approach her with cap and bells on head and jibe in mouth .—Eveninj Standard. Times M oat in Inns.not out.Runs an Inns. Aver. . 4 ... 0 ... 236 ... 108 ... 59 . 10 ... 0 ... 415 ... 107 ... 41.5 . 8 ... 1 ... 263 ... 103* ... 37.55 . 10 ... 2 ... 279 ... 105 ... 34.87 . 8 ... 1 ... 193 .... 62 ... 27.14 . 5 ... 2 ... 77 ..,. 34* ... 25.66 . 14 ... 2 ... 307 .... 100 ... 25.58 . 4 ... 0 ... 93 ... 48 ... 23.25 . 7 ... 1 ... 124 ... 46 ... 20.66 .. 14 ... 0 ... 286 ... 79 ... 20.42 . 21 ... 4 ... 344 ... 61* ... 20.23 ,. 10 ... 0 ... 189 ... 78- ... 18.9 . 7 ... 1 ... 88 ... 56 ... 13.66 . 11 ... 1 ... 141 ... 37 ... 14.4 , 4 ... 1 ... 52 ... 35* ... 14 ,. 7 ... 0 ... 97 ... 25 ... 13.85 6 ... 0 ... 74 ... 27 ... 12.33 .. 14 ... 1 ... 154 ... 56* ... 11.84 ,. 9 ... 5 ... 47 ... 14* ... 11.75 n 20 ... 2 ... 198 ... 58 ... 11 . 5 ... 1 ... 39 ... 25* ... 9.75 .. 8 ... 0 ... 71 ... P6 ... 8.87 .. 12 ... 1 ... 87 ... 24 ... 7.9 . 4 ... 0 ... 29 ... 20 ... 7 25 . 8 ... 0 ... E6 ... 23 ... 7 .. 5 ... 0 ... 35 ... 11 ... 7. .. 7 ... 2 ... 31 ... 11* ... 6.2 .. 10 ... 0 ... 55 .. . 10 ... 5.5 . 12 ... 1 ... 59 ..,. 15 ... 5.86 .. 4 ... 0 ... 20 .i. 7 ... 5 .. 5 ... 0 ... 17 ... 9 ... 34 5 ... 0 ... 7 ... 3 ... 1.4 SURBITON CLUB. Matches played 25—won 14, lost 8, drawn 8. BITTING AVERAGES. G. W . Ricketts .. M. J. Dauglish C. A. Trouncer .. W. T. Graburn E. A.. Mackintosh.. J. R. G a rrod ......... R. Howell ......... W . Roffey ......... R. A. Read .......... A. R. H oldship G. H. W indeler .. C. S p icer................. E. Brookes ......... F. B. W indeler S. T. Hanmer J. F. N ew ton ......... E. A. Read ... .. P. Castle ... ... .. W. T. B a th o ......... Rev. A. E. Beavai B C. Lucas ......... J. A. Perkin ......... Rev. C. R. Bailey .. Durward Lely C. W. Croudy......... J. H. Pigot ......... L. Easum ......... G. Piukerton ... .. C. A. H ew itt......... J. E. Raven ......... H. C. Paice ......... V. H. H ow ell......... The following played in three innings o n l y P 0. Bates 6-^0—10*. The following played in two innings only J. E« W im ble, 1*—14 ; G. E. Bowring, 6—2* ; R. P. Sewell* 5—89; R. C. H eberden,30—0; C. M. W ilkins, 9—0 » L. Haughton, 16—2 ; W . B. Windeler. 4—7; El Trouncer 0—1*; R. Case, 3 -0 * ; K. Me Upine, 3—5 • R. B. Perkin. 1—1; S. Castle. 0—81; G. Haughton; 3—0; W . Fairbanks; 0—90 ; G. Roffey, 2*—14. , The following played in one innings only J. D Vans Agnew 3, G . Chancellor 0, F. Game 0, F. H. Capper 1, F. W . M ills 1. E. H. W yles 8*,L. W elstead 0, W. E. Hewitt 0, F. Rawlings 2, A. W. Cooper ", H. A. Perkin 0, A. C. Challis 0, G. Bird 17, F. Cor bett 5*, S. N. Castle 4. BOW LIN G AVERAGES. Balls. Mdns. Runs. W kts.Aver* E. A. M ackintosh... Rev. C. R. Bailey ... ‘•.C. Paice ... G. Pinkerton ... A. R. Holdship G. H. Windeler J .R . Garrod ... C. W . Crowdy P . C a stle.......... C. A. Trouncer V. H. Howell ... G. W. Ricketts J. E. Raven ... W . T. Graburn L. Easum R. Howell The following bowled in less than three innings —Rev. A. E. Beavan. 20—0—15-U ; F. B. vvindeler, 45—1—24—0 ; K. Me Alpine, 3 9 -1 —17—3 ; R P. Sewell, 3^—1 -1 0 -0 ; A. C. Challis. 40— —2 9 -] ; W . B. Windeler. 110 -5 -4 1 -5 ; M. J. Dau^lish. 8—L - 0 - 1 ; W . Fairbanks. 30—0—2 2 -1 ; C. M. Wilkins. 5 —0—H—1 ; P. C. Hates, 60 3—29—3 ; F. Gama, i*5 - 6 - 3 2 —1 ; R. C. Heberden, 4 0 -0 —3 5 -2 ; O. A. H ewitt, 10—0 -16—0 ; J. H. Pigot, 6 7 -3 -3 7 —1; F Corbett, 3 5 -0 -3 1 —0. G. H. W indeler bow led 5, P. C. Bates 1, and L. Easum 1 no-balls G. H. W indeler bowled 3, E. A. M ackintosh 2. C. W. Crowdy 1. C. R. Bailey 2, G. W. Ricketts 2, A. R . H oldship 2, and G. Pinkerton 1 wides. 417 . . 26 ..,. 144 .. ,. 21 ... 6.8. 832 .. 49 . ,. 320 ..,. 39 . .. 8 2 377 .,.. 23 . .. 152 ..,. 15 . .. 101 930 . . 48 . ,. 444 ... 39 . .. 11.33 687 .,. 30 .. . 311 .. . 27 . . V *S8 123S ... 74 .. ,. 517 ... 42 .. 12.8 1 ‘.34 ... 9 . .. 124 .,,. 10 ... t 115 ... 4 .. . 54 .. . 4 ... 13.5 105 .,. 6 . ,. f*G ., 4 ... 14 315 .,. 12 .. . 153 .. . 10 ... 15.3 105 .. . 7 .. . 33 ... 2 ... 36 5 170 .,. 11..,. 68 . . 3 ... 2:66 180 ... 13 ... 80 . . 3 ... 26 66 135 ... 11 . . 44 ... \ .... 41 215 .,. 6 .. 113 ... 3 ... 47 66 19) ... 4 .. r>9 .,. 2 ... 51 5 N E X T IS SU E , D ECEM BER 29.
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