Cricket 1903

402 CRICKET: A WEEKLY RECORD OF THE GAME. S ept . 10, 1903. importance was Eleven of Surrey against Twenty-two Gentlemen, and I made a score of 92, all run out, of course. In the return match I took ten wickets in the first inniDgs and twelve in the second.” “ You were a fast bowler ? ” “ I was very fast--faster than Wisden, and I suppose that Alfred Mynn, Martin Macyntire (in his day) and I, were all about as fast as each other. I remember that in one of the Surrey matches against Yorkshire, at Sheffield, a ball of mine broke a stump into five pieces, and the crowd got into a great state of excite­ ment, wondering what was up. I wish I had kept the pieces, but one doesn’t think of those things when he is young. Mr. Charles Hoare gave me a case of razors for my share in that match. The Sheffield ground was not very smooth in those days, I can tell you.” “ Was it much worse than other grounds ? ” “ Oh ! some of the grounds were not bad at all, and others were as smooth as a billiard table—at any rate I thought them so when I had to bowl. But once I was asked to play at Macclesfield against Clarke’s All England X I., and I went there. When I came on the ground old Clarke said to me, ‘ Oh, I suppose you think that you’re goiDg to bowl, don’t you ? ’ I said that was exactly what I ’d come for. ‘ Well then,’ he said,’ ‘ That’s just where you’ve made a mistake. I ’m not going to have half my team smashed up, and you won’t bowl, because if they try to put you on we shall walk off the field.’ Of course Clarke was a man of considerable importance, and so the Macclesfield people gave way fo him rather than have no match, for he would certainly have kept his promise. I didn’t bowl, but I made a lot of runs, so that I didn’t mind.” “ What did you think of Clarke’s bowling ? ” “ He was a great bowler. It is difficult to explain what there was in him which made him so good, but there was some­ thing peculiar about the ball when it came to you, and if you didn’t get it right in the middle of the bat you were almost certain to find that you had given a catch in the slips, though you had a better chance of escaping than usual because there was so much spin on the ball that the fielders often missed it. Clarke varied his pace very much. He was always very good at guessing when a man wanted to have a go at him, and he generally gave him just the sort of ball he didn’t want. I know that, speaking for myself, 1 was always very glad when I could get away from bis end. Once I saw him bowl 16 maiden overs in succes­ sion. Whether on modern -wickets against modern batsmen he would be successful if he were alive now I don’t know, but I fancy that if he had a really good wicket-keeper he would astonish some of them.” “ Who was, in your opinion, the best fast bowler you ever saw f ” “ The very best was, perhaps, Sam Bedgate, of Notts. He had such an easy action, and was so accurate, with a break either way, and a tremendous spin. He was a very difficult bowler to play, let alone to hit. Fred Morley was another great fast bowler, not at all easy to see, and not at all easy to play when you thought you saw the ball all the way. He would bowl you three or four balls without anything particular about them, except that they were awkward to deal with, and then for no earthly reason that I could ever see the next one would curl in to you in the most extraordinary way. I remember him bowling me once at the Oval. I knew absolutely nothing about the ball from first to last—never had a glimpse of it. On his day Martin Macyntire was a grand bowler, but he had a good many off days.” ‘ ‘ And the best medium-paced bowler ?” “ One doesn’t have to think long over that. It was unquestionably Buttress of Cambridgeshire. A ball from him was as peculiar in its character as the man himself, and that’s saying something. He always seemed to be watching you up to the instant that the ball left his hand, and he seemed to know instinctively just what you were going to try to do, much better than you knew yourself. Alfred Shaw was the best slow bowler I ever saw, or that ever was.” “ As regards your own bowling, what batsman did you fear most ? ” “ Well, I never bowled against Mr. Grace, although I have played on his side, so that I can’ t speak of him. But the man I feared most was Fuller Pilch. He and Mr. Charles Taylor were the two finest batsmen I ever saw in my life — remember, I am counting Mr. Grace out, as I did not see enough of him to be able to speak about him. In one of the matches between Kent and Surrey, Pilch played me with such ease that Martingell said to me, ‘ Why, Tom, I believe he could play you with a stump ! ’ And I believe he could. He had a most grace­ ful style. He did not use the cut very much, but his driving on both sides of the wicket was something worth looking at. Mr. Charles Taylor was a wonder­ fully pretty bat to watch, and he could hit with immense power.” “ Another magnificent batsman,” con­ tinued Sherman,” was George Parr. The book writers always speak of him as the finest leg hitter there ever was, and they are right. Owing to my great pace, I was naturally not very often hit hard to leg, but Parr used to do it—not very often, but still he did hit me there, and hard, too. He would just put his leg in front of the wicket and give a sweep, and away you went to square-leg at a pace which no fieldsman could get to. Parr wasn’t very particular about taking the ball off the wicket when he hit you to leg.” “ But isn’ t that supposed to be entirely an invention of modern days ? ” “ Well, I don’t know. But if some of the bowlers of the present time could try their hand at Tom Humphrey as he used to be they would be a little astonished, I think, at the way in which he would cut them off the middle and leg stumps, ball after ball. Ephraim Lockwood could do a little in that way, too, and so could Ilots of other men. I haye often watched Abel and Tyldesley and Ranjitsinhji make that side stroke which is so common nowadays, but it is not a modem invention. Mr. A. M. Hoare, a brother of Mr. Charles Hoare, played that stroke better than anyone I ever saw.” Sherman tells a delightful tale of the old days, when each side sometimes relied on its own umpire to distinguish himself. “ While I was at Farnborough, ’ ’ he said, “ a curious incident happened. I was looking on at a match between the town and Odiham, when the Famborough wicketkeeper suddenly left his place and stood at short slip, making a catch there off the next ball. But the batsman made no signs of moving, and when told that he was out he said : ‘ Oh, the wicket­ keeper was in the wrong place.’ When the bowler’s umpire told him that he must go, he appealed to the square leg umpire, who had been brought by the Odiham team. He promptly said ‘ not out.’ Then there was a bit of a row, and both sides came to me. So, as I didn’t want to make myself disagreeable, being merely a spectator, I advised them to write to the papers about it, and let them fight it out for them. As far as I remember, the batsman went on with his innings.” Sherman represented Surrey for about twelve years, at the time when the team included such famous players as Julius Ceeiar, Caffyn, Lockyer, Martingell, Mortlock, and Messrs. Miller, Dowson apd Lane. Towards the end of this time an incident occurred which resulted in his leaving the team for a time, although he afterwards returned. in all the dignity of large print he was flatly accused of selling a county match. But let him tell the story himself. “ I went in last when there were thirteen runs to make,” he said, “ and the excitement round the ground was very great. I got two 4’s, and seeing, as I thought, a ball coming which mejnt another four, or, perhaps, a five, I went for it for all I was worth and was stumped out. When I got to the pavilion I was told that I had done it on purpose to lose the match, and I was pretty mad about it, and said that I would play for the All-England Eleven in fu'ure. And I did for three years. It was a cruel thing and an unfair thing to say, and no one ever attempted to bring an atom of proof against me, for a very simple reason— there wasn’t any to bring, as I went in with the intention of winning if I could, and I was never more disgusted in my life than when I saw the bails off.” This is a very simple story, and, on the face of it, bears the impiess of truth. It is always a tall order for the last man to have to go in when even two or three runs have to be made, and, to put it mildly, a man who had sold a match would hardly be such a fool as to run things so fine as leave only four runs to tie, which his partner might get before he had another chance. Nor would he choose such an obviously silly way as to get out by being stumpad, and it is about time that the old man’s reputation should be completely rehabilitated. W . A. B b t t e s w o rt u .