Lives in Cricket No 48 - Maurice Leyland

162 In Memoriam Hilarem Springbok opponents inquired after him. The Yorkshire team of the 1930s was the best I ever played with.” That Evening Post carried one final tribute from staff writer Bill Bowes - a man who knew him as well as anyone in the game. Bill, eight years younger than his former colleague, had played alongside Maurice in 12 Championship campaigns with Yorkshire and in eight of his first dozen Tests for England. “Broad in’t back, broad in’t beam, a typical product of the Broad Acres with all the county’s gritty sandstone in his make-up, was Yorkshire’s popular left-hander,” wrote Bowes: He did not come easily into the Yorkshire side. His cheerful attitude to life and quick flash of wit, together with his brilliant fielding on the boundary edge, seemed to make up for many disappointments with the bat. He got opportunity to establish himself, and once with roots established, the tree grew like a mighty oak. Usually a hard-hitting batsman with a lovely drive past extra- cover, he had that great asset in his make-up - he could fight when fight was most wanted. The bigger the occasion the more he grew in stature. Only Herbert Sutcliffe bettered his scoring against the Australians Had it not been that Wilfred Rhodes and Norman Kilner were members of the Yorkshire side when Leyland first started there is no doubt he might have developed into a useful slow left-arm bowler. He had one or two good performances to his credit but mostly as fifth and sixth change. He threw his arm out in 1935, but he continued to be one of the best deep fields in the country. “One throw” he would say, “and I can’t throw again for ten weeks. I’ve got to use it when I’m sure of a run out!” He did. Time and again he would lob the ball back until the batsman, convinced Leyland couldn’t throw, went for the too short run. Even in his last game Leyland fielded on the boundary edge with respect. As a Yorkshire coach until 1963 he was respected by all the youngsters. He got fun out of the game. He poked fun at the long illness he suffered. “It doesn’t take the Beatles to make me rock ‘n roll,” he said. With ‘the Tyke’ there was always humour.