Cricket 1914

T4 THE WORLD OF CRICKET. J a n u a r y , 1914. Cricketers I Have Met. B y S i d n e y S a n t a l l . There were very few cricketers playing regularly in first- class cricket last season who were playing when I began my career in May, 1894. Upon referring to Wisden I find the number to be eight. And a very select band they are : H. K. Foster, G. L. Jesop, C. P. MacGahey, J. T. Hearne, G. H. Hirst, T. Hayward, W . Mead, and W. G. Quaife, P. F. Warner and Denton played in three matches each that year. Twenty seasons would appear to stand for rather more than a genera­ tion of cricketers. We cannot all last like W. G. Grace and Jack Hearne ; and any player who survives a score of seasons of first-class cricket must think himself lucky. During my tw enty years’ experience I have come into contact with all sorts and conditions of cricketers, both on and off the field. Temperament plays a most important part in a man’s success ; but it is remarkable what differences there are. Some men are serious to a fault, others light-hearted, never caring what the morrow may bring. Shilton’s Little Ways. Jack Shilton, who played for Warwickshire during the eighties and early nineties, was one of the most remarkable men I have ever met. He was commonly known to the Edgbaston crowd as “ Lord W arw ick." He had remarkable confidence in his own ability, and we often pulled his leg about it. During one of our away matches in the North of England, Whitehead, another member of our team, arranged with a friend to ask him in the course of a discussion on the game who he considered to be the finest left-handed bowler in England. “ W ell,” said Whitehead, “ it is a near thing between Bobby Peel and Jack, but I think Jack is a bit the better.” Shilton walked over to Whitehead and very seriously shook him by the hand, thanked him for his good opinion. B ut he was greatly disgusted when he discovered later that it was a put up job. Shilton had some very quaint sayings. Derbyshire were struggling to save the game against us on a sticky wicket. When Chatterton came in to bat Shilton immediately went “ silly point.” The Derbyshire man, when in the act of walking up the wicket to put the ball marks down, turned to Shilton and said : “ Jack, I shall knock one through you.” To which Shilton replied : “ You get on with your gardening; I ’m all right.” Chatterton got a blob. Quaife. B illy Quaife has been my chosen comrade during all these long years, and a better pal no one could wish for. I well remember my first meeting with him. It was in September, 1891. We were both asked to play a match which had been arranged as a testimonial for Dick Lilley, who was recovering from a serious illness. It was also utilised as a trial match for young players. Thinking the game would be a whole day one, I arrived at the ground about 11 o ’clock, but found nobody there. After I had waited about half-an-hour, two players (who turned out to be the brothers Quaife) came out to the nets to practise. Though I had not changed, I asked William, who had commenced batting, whether he would mind me bowling. He readily con­ sented. When they had finished I overheard Walter say to his brother : “ This cove can bowl a bit.” It pleased me, you may be sure. The game started in the afternoon, and Billy and I were deputed to open the batting to the bowling of Shilton and Pallett. Before I had opened my account my future colleague ran me out rather badly. We have had many jokes about it since. I therefore bowled my first ball on the Edgbaston ground to Quaife, and received my first ball with him as a partner. It seemed then only the proper order of things that we should have been such close friends. There has been no player I have ad­ mired more, either as batsman or fieldman. The times he has saved Warwickshire from defeat are many. “ I t’s all right now, Billy is anchored.” That remark has been made in our dressing- room scores of times. On Tour in the South-West. He arranged some delightful tours in Devonshire and Cornwall, and some of the happiest days I have spent on a cricket field have been in those beautiful counties. During one of these tours a 100 yards race was arranged at Penzance. Billy Quaife, Fred Holland, and I were at scratch ; Ted Arnold had two yards s ta r t; Webb 4 yards ; W alter‘ Quaife and Charley Baldwin 6 yards ; Whitehead 8 y a rd s; and Harry Baldwin the limit, 10 yards. The latter, who was a very short, stout man, turned round to us when we were at the post, and said : “ All you fellows will see of me will be my back ! ” And I do believe he would have been correct, had he not been forced to retire about ten yards from the tape to adjust his garments ! I won the race. Shortly afterwards I read that Holland was considered to be the fastest runner in first-class cricket, so I felt highly flattered. “ Jimmy ” (A. E.) Street, when a member of the Sussex X I, went on one of those tours. He did not get many runs, but scored heavily at table whenever there was junket and cream about. “ Sammy ” Woods. My first meeting with S. M. J. Woods took place at Penzance. It was in 1897. I had often seen him play before, notably in the 'Varsity match of 1891. In that game he came in when his side required four to win and had no wickets to fall. He promptly banged the first ball he received from G. F. H. Berkeley, the Oxford left-hand bowler, past mid-off for four. It was typical of the man. In the game at Penzance he was on tour with the Somerset Moonlighters. Arnold and I had been engaged to play for Penzance against them I wonder whether Mr. Woods re­ members the billiard match at the Western Hotel, when he kept reminding me what he should do with my bowling on the morrow. After the match both teams attended a smoking concert, and the famous Cantab invited me to sit next to him. At Shakespeare’s Town. I have also participated in some very pleasant matches at Stratford-on-Avon, where I often played for Mr. Frank Ashby. It was there I first met my old friend George Cox. I have no doubt he remembers th at midnight trip up the River Avon, after the sumptuous repast at the Swan’s Nest Hotel, and the exciting wrestling match between Harry B u tt and “ Tim ” K illick in the bed-rooin the next morning. It does one good to look at George, he always appears so fit and well. One cannot help noticing the peculiar twinkle in his left eye as he comes up to bowl, and the manner he scrutinises you when he bowls a “ snorter,” which with a bit of luck you manage to stop. If only we all had the same temperament as he is blessed with ! Field and Hargreave. Frank Field, the fast bowler of our team, had he not been a cricketer might have made a fortune as corner man in a Christy Minstrel troupe. When the last M.C.C. team returned from Australia, after recovering the mythical “ ashes,” the three Warwickshire representatives : F. R. Foster, Kinner, and Smith, were entertained by the County Club to a banquet. A t that time we were in the midst of the great coal strike. During the evening Field was called upon for a speech. After congratulating his colleagues on the part they had played in the struggle, he said : “ I have no doubt the * ashes ’ will come in very useful, as we in England have been struggling for the last three weeks with but poor success to get even the smallest piece of coal ! ” Frank is a splendid trier and one of the keenest cricketers I have played with. One of his first county matches was at Northampton. He and I slept together. About daybreak he woke me out of a sound sleep, saying : “ Syd, it’s coming down in sheets ; you will bowl them out neck and crop ! ” We won the match, but his prediction failed. When Hargreave was in our side, a heated argument generally took place at the end of each imnings as to which of the two had displayed the best cricket. The pair once put on 22 for the last wicket at Leeds, against Hirst and Haigh, without getting a run with the bat. David Hunter spent most of the time throwing his arms up in the air, thinking the ball must hit the wicket. Speaking of Hargreave reminds me of an amusing incident that occurred at Coventry a few years ago, in which “ D icky ” Barlow, the famous old Lancashire player, figured. He was um­ piring in one of our matches there, and when in the act of relating some of his best bowling performances was interrupted by Sam, who chirped in : “ Ah, Dicky, you ought to have played in my time, I should have knocked the cover off the ball ! ” “ Come and have a try,” responded the old warrior. Thereupon they went out on the field, and to the disgust of the Warwickshire man he was clean bowled by the first ball Barlow sent him ! Hargreave was splendid company, and always full of fun. He was a fine juggler. Many a time he has almost frightened the life out of a waitress just as we have been sitting down to dinner, by picking up the plates and glasses, and performing all kinds of tricks with them.