Lives in Cricket No 3 - George Duckworth

criss-crossing the nation’s railroads in the fatiguing quest of six days a week of senior cricket. To the despair of the ardent biographer, the smooth production line of George Duckworth’s wicket-keeping was of unrelentingly high quality, with practically every match throwing up several catches or stumpings and very few byes. One might point to Dover in 1926 or Worcester in 1936, when he had six victims in an innings against Kent and Worcestershire, respectively. One might enjoy in retrospect the scenes at Maidstone in 1928 and Old Trafford in 1936, when he had preyed on eight Kent and Warwickshire batsmen in each of those games. But these were not purple patches; they were the stunning highlights of a glittering career. George Duckworth would have gone home or to his cricket digs with a warm feeling of satisfaction, glowing at the thought of a good day’s work done, but these were not days or games that were so extraordinary. The fall of a wicket in the 1920s and 1930s was not the signal for a hysterical cavalcade of gauche embraces and awkward high fives. The cricket professional of that hour would no more have thought of indulging in such an emotional outburst in the face of someone doing their job correctly, than the wiredrawer in a Warrington works would have expected expressive adulation on completion of a decent piece of wiredrawing. One suspects that, even on those occasions of high achievement, the taciturn Harry Makepeace would have been more likely to recall the one miss, rather than the six successes. It is in this context that George Duckworth would tell the story against himself of his first meeting with George Gunn, the somewhat unorthodox but extremely effective Nottinghamshire batsman, whose tendency it was to stroll forward to greet his attackers. The young wicket-keeper was astonished to see him amble forward towards Ted McDonald, and, ever alert to opportunities, decided to creep forward himself, even as the quick bowler was into his stride, fancying a miraculous stumping. ‘If I could stump him off Mac’, thought George, ‘well, I’d surely get my county cap.’ George Gunn walked forth again, gently stopped the ball on the rise, and turned to the hovering young wicket-keeper. ‘Good morning, young lad’, he said, ‘nice morning, isn’t it?’ Duckworth said he never felt so silly in all his life. The Cricket 31