Cricket 1907
404 CKICKET : A WEEKLY RECORD OF T-HE GAME. S e p t . 12, 1907. 8. J. Snooke was also a most valuable run-getter, his chief scores being 157 v. Somerset, and 114 not out v. Derby shire. A t one time it appeared probable that Mackay, the Australian, who had settled in South Africa, would come oyer, but the announcement of the intention, made exclusively in Cricket, showed public opinion to be against his inclusion, and it was eventually decided not to bring him. H e would cartainly have strengthened the batting greatly but there can be no doubt that the South African authorities adopted the wiser course in leaving him behind, much though Englishmen would like to have seen him. The best all-round man on the side was distinctly Faulkner. Making well over a thousand runs, he also took more than seventy wickets at moderate cost. In the first innings of England in the Test match at Leeds he took six wickets for 17 runs, causing quite a sensation, and in the same week, against Lancashire at Manchester, played an excellent innings of 106 not out. In Sherwell the side possessed a skilful wicket-keeper and captain, and a bats man capable, as he proved at L ord’s, of making a hundred iu a Test match. He enjoyed to the full the confidence of those under him, and infused an amount of enthusiasm into the team the value of which could not easily be over-rated. The side never accepted defeat until the last ball was bowled, and played several very fine up-hill games, eg., against Kent, Sussex, and Surrey. They are a team which will always be recalled with the greatest pleasure by those whose good fortune it was to meet them on, or, as in the case of the writer, o ff the field. [Next week the complete averages, &c., will he given.] SOME REMINISCENCES. During the past season frequent showers provided the disconsolate in mates of the pavilion with many oppor tunities of harking back to brighter and kindlier times. In my own case the musings go as far back as the t&ll-hat- and-braces era, which Dr. Grace recently stated was before his time, and, though I never wore either on the cricket field myself, I well remember the days when the A ll England Eleven came on tour so attired to meet a local twenty-two of the town near which they played, “ and district,” and the figures and features of such heroes as Alfred Mynn, Felix, George Parr, Grundy, Box, &c., &c., quos enumerare longum est, and what a discussion was caused by the first appear ance of Clarke, the Nottingham slow under-hander, in a tall white hat. The cricket matches in the summer holidays, what a jo y they were ! Village matches, I mean, and played b y village lads under the captaincy of the young Squire, at home from his first school— probably against a similar team from a neighbouring village, and with the Squire or Parson to pretide at lunch, and with their womankind looking on during the afternoon. I remember equipping my self—it must have been my first match— with a brand new pair of dogskin gloves, as bright a yellow as I could pro cure. However, in spite of the yellow gloves I held a catch, whilst standing at point, to which performance my father, the Rector, at lunch spoke to the 'point to such effect that I discarded them for the afternoon and brought off a subse quent catch handsomely. A t m y next school, one of King Edward Y I.’s, where, by-the-way, Isaac Newton’s initials, carved on a window sill in Upper School, are still preserved, I did not stay long enough to form one o f the Eleven. I did so, however, in a South o f England college which has always maintained a high reputation for playing the game, and where I learnt as much cricket as classics. When the coach and four arrived for the Eleven away we went, twelve precious souls (including the umpire) all agog to bat, and bowl, and win. Well, sometimes we did, and some times we didn’t ; Eton blue and white were the college colours, which I mention because I remember our wicket-keeper (one of the most genial and kindly of masters) wore a light blue cap as a cockshy for the field, which always struck me as a good idea, and, as the Americans would phrase it, “ real cunning.” Then came cricket in the army, and matches, mostly inter-regimental, on the Gurragb, at Aldershot, Shorncliffe, Walmer, Portsmouth, and, as a bon bouche, Jersey and the other Channel Islands, until we had to take the field in New Zealand, where, owing to Sir G— e G— y having lost the toss, the Maori innicgs lasted for some years, and I can’ t say we made more than a draw, not altogether in our favour, at its conclusion. Their knowledge of the ground was worth a good deal to them, and though we complained, when we did get an innings, that to keep so many “ long-fields o ff” was not playing the game, they stuck to their guns. We had rifl 8, but no ammunition, which is a detail, but so “ English you know .” We got some cricket in New Zealand as our friend, the enemy, periodically drew stumps in order to plant their crops.—I may say here that our General’s plan of campaign was to secure them at maturity, possibly to save the owners all trouble on that account, but which they, on their part, always considered was not playing the game on ours.—Our wickets were very different from those of to-day, being usually pitched on a track through the fern, which was more or less cut down for some distance around, not only to facilitate the ball travelling, but also to prevent the crowd, represented by hostile Maories, encroaching too closely on the game. It used to be said that the umpires always carried revolvers. After the New Zealand match was drawn, we had some Australian ex periences, but that was long before the days of Australian cricket as we under stand it now, for our various detachments in Sydney, Melbourne, and Adelaide played, and held their own against, the strongest clubs in New South Wales, Victoria, and South Australia. We after wards proceeded to the West Indies, with Barbados as headquarters, and, although it was the warmest station we had ex perienced, we played more cricket, ^nd I should think put away more shandy gaff, than anywhere else. Our principal opponents were naval teams. A sa former Lord Henry Bentinck said of his winter neighbours at Lincoln, and how he got through the lon g evenings after hunting: — “ Oh! capital chaps; excellent fellow s; best of company. Cards, of course “ it isn’t whist ” — of which he was facile princeps — “ but capital chaps, ca p ita l;” so a like description applied to sailor cricketers. B y putting them in first we generally managed to make the game last until lunch-time, after which pleasant gathering it was the custom to adjourn to the rocks at Hastings for a batfiing parade iu a natural salt-water pond (if I may e o describe it), and especially protected by a natural reef only just covered at high water, and thereby safe from the numerous sharks, which subalterns blessed with vivid imagina tions declared did “ sentry-go” outside, gnashing their teeth audibly when the bathers were unusually young and tender. Inside the reef dwelt, has always dwelt, and, I hear, still dwells, an historical, perhapB pre-historical, barracouta, which I take it every bathing party since the acquisition of the island has made a daily attempt— at least— to capture, the programme being to join hands, and advance on him in a line extending from shore to reef. He would retreat before us steadily, and in good order, until shoal water was reached, when it was “ R ig h t- about turn,” and “ Charge, Couta, ch arge!” The strength of a line is its weakest link, and there always was, and always will be, a weak or missing link in that thin buff—-not red — line which thinks to bring to bag that solitary Couta. Codrington College had an excellent ground, and a team good enough to extend us thoroughly, and we were certainly strong as a regi mental team. What I chiefly remember in connection with our matches there was the gloriuus swimming bath, and the treat of a plunge and a long swim after cricket. I don’ t think anyone who has not played cricket in the tropics can properly appreciate either a swim, or a shandygaff: there was no tea interval there. After my season in the West Indies my innings as a soldier cricketer praoti- cally cim e to an end, being run out by Mr. Cardwell. It wasn’t a case of “ play or p a y ” either; we were still keen to play, but he said, “ A ll righ t; play by all means, only there will be no pay when you are o u t ! ” And so, in company with many another cricketer and companion-in-arms, there was nothing for it to those who could not afford to make a present to their country of what they had paid into its coffers b u t—the Pavilion. A. M.
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