Cricket 1893

NQV. SO, 1893 CRICKET g A WEEKLY EECORJ? OP THE GAME, 467 REMINISCENCES OF CRICKET. B y RICHARD DAFT. C h ar lie P arn h am . D u r in g m y career as acricketer I must have been associated withmany thousands of players. Every season brings me in contact with young players whom I may perhaps he still playing ten years hence. But there are scarcely any who take part in the noble game to day, who were known as cricketers in my early years. One by one they have dropped off. Many, alas! are no more, and those left alive have become too old to take any share in cricket matches at the present time. In fact, almost the only old cricketer who still dons the flannels "to keep me com­ pany,” as he says, is the subject of my sketch, Mr. Charles Parnham, or as he is better known, “ Charlie ” Parnham. Charlie is a native of Aslockton, a little village in Nottinghamshire, famous as being the birthplace of the celebrated Archbishop Cranmer. In his younger days Charlie was always one of the best cricketers outside the county team ; and had he not had a good deal of business to attend to when a young man, he would in all probability have found a regular place in the ranks of the Notts eleven. As it was, George Parr on several occasions found a place for him in the All England Eleven. As may well be supposed, Charlie was a Triton amongst minnows as regards cricket in his native village, where our national game five-and-thirty years ago was played in a very primitive fashion, and his temper I can well imagine would often be sorely tried by the clumsiness of his companions in the field. Charlie when a young man—like myself in earlier days—bowled “ slow round ” (we have both, since then, descended to lobs), and consequently required a good “ field ’’ for him to make his bowling a success. Good fielders were, however, often fewand far between. Charlie relates an account of one match, where, being one short on the morning before play began, they had to fetch a substitute from a neighbouring farm. This gentleman’s fielding was, I believe, very extraordinary. Charlie was bowling, and had told the farm labourer to go into the long field—thinking probably that he would be most out of the way there— and whenever a ball was hit in that direction, down he dropped on one knee as soon as he sawthe ball had passed the mid wickets, and awaited it’s coming like an infantryman preparing to receive cavalry. This performance always meant at least a couple of extra rutis to the batsmen, and no doubt the bowlers would heartily wish the out-fielder back at his agricultural duties—or elsewhere. In these da} s, CharlieParnhamthought nothing of rising at three o'clock in the morning, and doing a day’s work before a match began. He was, and is now, a batsman whom we are apt to speak of as a “ good old-fashioned one,” something after the Roger Iddison type. He is a fine built man to-day, although he has passed his fiftieth year. Standing nearly six feet in height and scaling over fifteen stone. His style of batting, although it could scarcely be called elegant, is far from being clumsy. He plays with a beautifully straight bat, can hit all round with a vigour which astonishes many slow bowlers, and has an excellent defence. Since my retirement from first-class cricket Charlie Parnham has ever been my “ comrade in arms ” in our local games. Strangers are apt to look on him as an easy customer to be got rid of when he appears at the wicket. Too often they find themselves mistaken. Once when we were playing at Matlock we had scored rather heavily for the loss of about half .our wickets by luncheon time. One of the opposite side who fat next to me at lanch remarked that although we hadgiven themsome trouble, still he had no doubt that they had now got rid of the best of us. “ For instance,” he went on, pointing to Charlie Parnham, “ that old gentleman there doesn’tlook as if he’d get many.” “ Which old gentle­ man?” I enquired, affecting surprise. “ That one,” ho repeated, pointing again to Charlie; “ the one with the grey whiskers." “ That one!” I exlaimed ; “ why, he is the safest man amongst us; we always call him ‘ the Anchor ’ of the team, he’s hardly ever been known to get less than 50 !” My friend looked rather incredulous, but later in the day, after Charlie had scored 60 runs, he came up to me and said, “ You were right, Mr. Daft, about that old chap; you never know when you’ve done with these old beggars! ” Charlie and I do a good deal of lob bowling in our matches now. A few years ago we had playing on our side at Skegness, a veteran like ourselves, who boasted a good deal about his lobs. On the last day of the match, the opposing side had to go in to bat three quarters of an hour before time—we being over 200 runs to the good. So, of course, the game was looked on by both sides as a drawn one. “ I tell you what,” said Charlie Parn­ ham, as we came out of the pavilion. “ let’s put old S----- on with his slows, and let him get knocked about well.” To this I agreed, and both Charlie and I looked out for some fun. Judge our astonishment when our rival, old S----- , securedtwo wickets in his first over, two in hissecond, and so on, tiil when time was called he had secured eight wickets (all that were taken). Charlie was very crestfallen at our rival’s success, and instead of con­ gratulatinghimwhen we got in the dress­ ing-room declared that if he had gone on at one end and myself at the other, the whole of the eleven would have been disposed of in less than half an hour from the commencement of their innings! Charlie and I are more troubled by the fielding as we grow older than by either the batting or bowling. We generally contrive to let our younger fellow players run after the balls we cannot manage to stop when we are out in the field. Still in spite of this we sometimes find a hundred yards sprint inevitable. As we grow older, feet as well as hands are used in fielding. I remember when Charlie was once fielding cover-point in a match he tried to stop a ball with his foot which was hit to him very hard. This he only partially succeeded in doing, and away the ball went towards the boundary. Charlie stopped for a moment and looked at me, who was at mid-off, but evidently soon discovered that I did not intend having anything to do with tho transac­ tion. so that thero was nothing for it but for him to dash after the ball himself. When lie returned panlipg to his place at cover-point, I remarked that I would have gladly gone after the ball after ho had passed it towards me ; but for tho fact of my being “ off side.” Joking apart Charlie is, for his age and weight, the best runner I ever saw. Indeed, at a hundred yards there are plenty of players ten or fifteen years his junior to whom he can give a start. Only a year ago he brought down endless ridicule on the head of a member of our local team, twenty years younger than himself, by defeating him in a sprint of 120 yards. Besides being so useful a cricketer, Charlie is excellent company of an evening in the smoke rooms of the hotels where we stay when on tour, as he has an inexhaustible supply of anecdote. Ono excellent story he relates of a Methodist preacher whomhe knew inhis youth. The reverend gentleman was to have taken the service at the opening of a new Chapel in a village some distance from where he resided. Being, however, unable to go at the last moment he sent a substitute. Great disappointment was evinced at the chape], when it was known that the great Mr. B—had not arrived, but had sent his deputy. “ Can you preach aswell as Mr. B—, do you think?” one of the heads of the chapel enquired of the sub­ stitute before service began. “ Well, I don’t think I can preach quite so well,” was the reply, “ but I can pray his head off!” This is one of many of my old friend Charlie’s stories. That he will live to play with me in many more matches for many years to come is my heartiest wish. He has been going to leave off cricket for the last fifteen years, according to his own account. At the end of every season he declares that he has played for the last time, but the following spring finds him once more hard at it on the tented field, where he can still hold his own in any local eleven, and will, I have no doubt, continue long to do so. For no man I have a greater esteem than for Charlie Parnham, and when he retires from cricket for good and all I shall in­ deed feel that I have lost a link with the past. Send 1ja. for Artistic Show Card of C b ic k e t with portraits of eiiher Arthur Shrewsbury, George Lohmann, Dr. w. G. Grac *(in four baiting posi­ tions), or Mr. 8 . M. J. Woods. Suitable for hang­ ing up in Pavilions, Club, and Dressing Booms.