Lives in Cricket No 18 - FR Foster

Chapter Three Early Years Frank Foster was a true ‘Brummie’ and a poor recording of a speech about ‘Bodyline’ suggests a trace of the Brummie ‘whine’, noticeable in another distinguished native born a couple of miles away as the crow flies, Enoch Powell, and now largely kept alive, at least in intelligible form, among Birmingham people of Asian origin. As William Foster became more successful he took his family to Mel Valley, where he could indulge his pastime of breeding Hackney ponies, and give his children large grounds in which to play. The first we hear of the family’s cricket interest is in some notes by Frank Foster for an unpublished autobiography. Foster had played truant from school and so omitted to give his teacher a letter from his mother saying they were to take a two-week holiday. On his return home ‘at the normal time’ so as to keep his truancy secret, ‘on the lawn my father, brother and sister are playing cricket. Dad calls out for me to field for him by the hedge. I hide the letter in a thick part of the hedge and within five minutes the ball is sent straight to me. Could I stop it? Oh dear no, and the ball nestled close to my guilt. Could I get it out? I could not. Someone else found it and the letter, and Frankie is sent to bed to await developments.’ William Foster used to tell a story of the young Frank’s keenness. When Frank was about six, his mother, looking out one day from an upstairs window, saw the boy throwing a ball against a wall, and catching it as it fell. She watched for some time, unseen by him, and noticed that Frank’s eyes were full of tears, and he was muttering ‘I will do it! I will do it!’ Later she discovered he was determined to take a hundred catches without a miss – remarkable for one of his age. William realised that Frank possessed cricketing ability denied the other Fosters and throughout the long summer evenings would organise cricket practice. Frank would spend much time bowling at a single stump. Father would place a penny on the stump, another on a length and if Frank dislodged both coins he won them, plus another sixpence from the proud, albeit poorer father. This practice, and parental encouragement, fused to huge natural talent, gave Frank Foster the self-confidence and aplomb to step into any grade of cricket without difficulty. When Frank was a small boy the family holidayed at Saltburn-by-the-Sea, Yorkshire, where there was an immense stretch of sand ideal for playing cricket. One morning Frank won half a crown from his father bowling at a single stump and, according to Frank, was seen by members of the Saltburn Cricket Club who chose him, aged about seven, in their team to play 21