Cardus for Easter
Aditya Basrur
enjoyable This starts at page 144 of the second Australian Edition (January
1948).
---
There is Bill Worsley to begin with; he lives for me as completely and
satisfyingly on the strength of a few immortal words as the young man in
dickens, who opened his mouth only once and murmured "Esker".
Worsley belonged to the hinterland of the county [Lancashire] where
existence is carried on near the knuckle, where cobbled streets go up and
down hill, where in the pitch black of cold winter mornings mills' sirens or
"buzzers" awakened the dead, and the rattle of clogs was like the sound of a
sort of Last Day or Resurrection. From one of the pits of Lancashire emerged
this Bill Worsley, who kept wicket for the county in the great high noon of
Maclaren's reign. He got his chance unexpectedly. The Lancashire Eleven was
touring the West of England and the regular wicket-keeper received an injury
of the hand which rendered him a casualty for the rest of the summer. A
telegram was sent for reinforcements and was received by Bill Worsley on his
back in a seam of a coal-mine. After he had slowly read the telegram he
said, without emotion: "It's signed A. C. Maccle-aren" - he always
pronounced it that way - "and it ses Ah've to pack oop and go to Edgbaston,
Birmingham, and keep wickets for Lankysheer." He scratched his head and
added: "Ah'm non so sure as Ah rightly knows where Edgbaston is." But his
proud and admiring friends saw him to the train and bought the correct
railway ticket, and Bill departed, with a farewell message as he leaned out
of the carriage window: "Ah reckon Ah'll be back wi' thee all in a day or
two. Look after mi whippets."
He duly arrived at the cricket ground of Edgbaston. Lancashire were about to
play Warwickshire. Bill stripped and sat in a corner of the dressing room.
Nobody spoke to him and he, as he afterwards said, kept himself to
"hisself". He was discerned by Walter Brearley, the fast bowler and an
"amateur", meaning a "gentleman." Brearley, the kindest man and the
friendliest in the world, hailed the newcomer. "You are Worsley, aren't you
wicket-keeper for us today?"
"Yes, sir," replied Bill.
"Come and have a drink," said Brearley: "We'll just have one, to baptize
your first appearance for the county. This is your opportunity, Bill; just
you keep a decent wicket and you can say good-bye to the pit, and have a
grand life up and down the country. Come on, Bill - this way." Brearley led
Bill to the bar in the members' enclosure. When they reached the counter,
Brearley smote Bill on the back and said: "Now, Bill: what'll you have to
celebrate this famous day in your life?"
"Well," responded Bill politely, "if you don't mind, Maister Brearley, Ah'll
'ave a Creem de month."
Brearley was rather taken aback. "A what?" he said. And Bill repeated with
equal politeness: "A Creem de month, if you please, Maister Brearley."
Brearley concealed his astonishment and gave the order, including a can of
beer for himself, which he piccked up and drained at a draught. "There's
luck to you, Bill" he gulped. Whereupon Bill drank his green fluid and said:
"The same to you, Maister Brearley, and many of 'em."
Lancashire lost the toss, and Maclaren led his team into the field. When he
reached the middle he as usual spent some time distributing his forces,
waving men here and there, while Brearley measured his run and swung his
arms and prepared to attack. The two opening Warwickshire batsmen came to
the wicket, and Kinneir took his guard. All was ready. Then Maclaren at
first-slip withdrew his attention from the bowler and the precise position
to an inch of cover-point; he saw Bill Worsley "standing up," an inch or so
from the stumps. "Worsley," he said, "get back a bit - Mr. Brearley happens
to be pretty quick." "Just as you like, Maister Maccle-aren," said Bill,
retreating exactly four inches.
"Farther back still," shouted Maclaren impatiently: "he's fast, I'm telling
you."
"Just as you please, Maister Maccle-aren," reiterated Bill, retreating
another four inches. To himself Maclaren said: "Well, if he wants his
so-and-so head knocked off, very well."
The match began. Bill "stood up" to Brearley. Kinneir, a left-hander and a
most obstinate batsman on a good wicket, was in form. He scored ten in a
quarter of an hour - rapid work for him. Then he moved gently to the
off-side and beautifully glanced at a fine angle to leg. Worsley also moved
across, made a brillaint catch, and without a change of action or pause,
sent the ball high into the air with a one-handed jerk behind his back.
"What the ... what the ..." expostulated Maclaren. But Brearley said, behind
his hand, "Hush, Archie; you'll put him off! Marvellous catch!"
So Maclaren held his peace and the game was resumed. The next batsman was
the formidable W.G. Quaife, most notorious of stonewallers, almost beyond
the powers of known science to get out on a hard wicket under six hours. He,
too, began well and he, too, presently moved gently across his wicket and
glanced exquisitely off his pads, fine to leg. And again did Worsley swoop
on the ball, catch it, and with one comprehensive and encircling action jerk
it sky-high behind his back.
This was too much for Maclaren. In spite of Brearley's muffled, "Shush,
Archie, you'll only put him off. Marvellous catch!" - in spite of Brearley's
kind admonitions, Maclaren approached Bill. "Well caught, Worsley," he said,
"but damn it all, what's the idea of this behind-the-back foolery?"
"Well, Maister Maccle-aren," replied Bill, "we allus does it in t'Saturday
afternoon league - a little bit o' 'fluence, tha knows, sir."
"You can't do it here," said Maclaren, "in front of all these people. Bless
my soul. Now, Bill, get on with your job. You're doing splendidly. But no
more bits o' 'fluence, if you don't mind."
As it happened, one or two Warwickshire batsmen took root, and Lancashire
spent a long day in the field. But Bill acquitted himself well, though he
did not get any more chances to make a catch. When they all came to the
pavilion at close of play, it was discovered that Bill had been wearing
primitive gloves. [Aditya: what would these have been like?] His hands were
swollen and black. A pair of scissors was needed to cut his gloves away from
his wounded hands.
Brearley's heart went out to Bill. He took him to the bar, the same bar
where at the beginning of the day they had drunk to Bill's first appearance
for Lancashire.
"Come, Bill," said Brearley, "you've won your colours. You'll come with us
on the whole tour now. No more pit for you, my lad. You've done 'gradely.
BUt for God's sake, get some proper gloves - and drop all that behind the
back business. Can't do it at Lord's - Heaven help us. . . . Well, here's to
you, Bill. Let's celebrate the occasion properly now. What'll you have?" And
Bill replied, polite as ever: "Well, if you don't mind, Maister Brearley,
Ah'll have a Creem de month."
---
And, for Arvind Borde, who was so interested in Cardus's sex-life (p. 143):
---
There are many things about cricket, apart from the skill and the score.
There is, first of all, the leisure to do something else. Cricket, like
music, has its slow movements, especially when my native county of
Lancashire is batting. I married the good companion who is my wife during a
Lancashire innings. The event occurred in June 1921; I went as usual to Old
Trafford, stayed for a while and saw Hollows and Makepeace come forth to
bat. As usual they opened with care. Then I had to leave, had to take a taxi
to Manchester, there to be joined in wedlock at a registry office. Then I -
that is, we - returned to Old Trafford. While I had been away from the match
and had committed the most responsible and irrevocable act in a mortal man's
life, Lancashire had increased their total by exactly seventeen - Makepace
5, Hallows 11, and one leg-bye.
---
Aditya [ Who, if you don't mind, will have a Mango Lassi. ] Basrur
Aditya Basrur
"Aditya Basrur" <aditya...@very.hot.mail.com> wrote in message
news:c52jve$26p$1...@lust.ihug.co.nz...
> A bit from the Autobiography, on Worsley's first match. One of the most
> enjoyable
Sorry, didn't finish this sentence. It should read "One of the most
enjoyable anecdotes in the book so far."
Aditya [How far is Old Trafford from Manchester?] Basrur
CiL
<aditya...@very.hot.mail.com> wrote:
>
>---
I had read it , as you say a lovely lovely anecdote..
Thanks for typing it out, I can send it as a url link now to a few
friends.
btw did u read 'Hope n fear' some stories there
+++++++++
..The brutal scenes during Partition shook their insides. Amarnath
came close to being butchered in a bloodbath on a train journey, but
in the nick of time a police officer arranged for him a Sikh's kadha
to wear like a badge. On another train journey, Mahmood was almost
assaulted by a couple of extremists, but CK Nayudu brandished his bat
and rescued him. Amarnath lost his ancestral house in Lahore, along
with all his trophies and mementos, including the bat with which he
had lashed India's first Test century, a piece of equipment he
"literally worshipped".
For Mahmood it was a catharsis. Amarnath sent him a telegram asking
him to join the Indian team for Australia, but he declined. When the
chief minister of West Punjab followed up, at the request of his
Indian counterpart, Mahmood replied: "Barrey bhai, do you want me to
bring laurels for India?"
More at
http://ind.cricinfo.com/link_to_database/ARCHIVE/CRICKET_NEWS/2004/MAR/108642_WAC_27MAR2004.html
Robert Henderson
very.hot.mail.com> writes
>A bit from the Autobiography, on Worsley's first match. One of the most
>enjoyable This starts at page 144 of the second Australian Edition (January
>1948).
>
>---
>
>There is Bill Worsley to begin with; he lives for me as completely and
>satisfyingly on the strength of a few immortal words as the young man in
>dickens, who opened his mouth only once and murmured "Esker".
One of my favourite Cardus stories. Apropos the question of wicket-
keepers gloves, even the best gloves did not prevent fc keepers in
those days taking a terrible battering on their hands. Look at photos of
their hands when retired and they are frequently a mess of bumps and
broken knuckles. Often a professional keeper would play with broken
fingers because they were afraid to lose their place in the side. RH
--
Robert Henderson
phi...@anywhere.demon.co.uk
Blair Scandal web site at http://www.geocities.com/blairscandal/
Personal web site at http://www.anywhere.demon.co.uk
John Hall
Aditya Basrur <aditya...@very.hot.mail.com> writes:
>A bit from the Autobiography, on Worsley's first match. One of the most
>enjoyable
Thanks for the two extracts. Great stuff! Some small fraction of what
Cardus wrote might even have been fact. :)
--
John Hall
"It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless
information."
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)
John Hall
Aditya Basrur <aditya...@very.hot.mail.com> writes:
>Aditya [How far is Old Trafford from Manchester?] Basrur
Old Trafford is within the Manchester conurbation. I don't know how far
it would have been from the registry office that Cardus used.
Aditya Basrur
> In article <c52k8q$2ej$1...@lust.ihug.co.nz>,
> Aditya Basrur <aditya...@very.hot.mail.com> writes:
>> Aditya [How far is Old Trafford from Manchester?] Basrur
>
> Old Trafford is within the Manchester conurbation. I don't know how
> far it would have been from the registry office that Cardus used.
Is it especially far from the Trafford Centre (which was, at the end of 2000, apparently the largest
shopping centre in England)? My relatives stay in a vilage called Timperley, near Altrincham. From
what I remember, Manchester City was about half an hour's drive from where they stayed and the
Trafford Centre was about 45 minutes. My sense of direction is non-existent, though, so it's quite
possible we were travelling in different directions.
Aditya [ Who needs marriage as long as Laxman has a square cut? ] Basrur
CiL
<aditya...@very.hot.mail.com> wrote:
>When they all came to the
>pavilion at close of play, it was discovered that Bill had been wearing
>primitive gloves. [Aditya: what would these have been like?] His hands were
>swollen and black. A pair of scissors was needed to cut his gloves away from
>his wounded hands.
in good old days, they used to have raw meat stuffed in gloves as a
cushion .!
CiL
++++ Rowland Ryder+++++++++++
"In 1835 round-arm bowling was legalised, and Alfred Mynn, The Lion of
Kent, bowled, says G. D. Martineau, in his incomparable book The
Valiant Stumper, with a terrifying hum on murderous turf. Ned Wenman
(1803–1879) kept wicket to his bowling — barehanded and without pads"
++++++++
Amol Cricketwallah
> In article <c52jve$26p$1...@lust.ihug.co.nz>, Aditya Basrur <aditya_basrur@
> very.hot.mail.com> writes
> >A bit from the Autobiography, on Worsley's first match. One of the most
> >enjoyable This starts at page 144 of the second Australian Edition (January
> >1948).
> >
> >---
> >
> >There is Bill Worsley to begin with; he lives for me as completely and
> >satisfyingly on the strength of a few immortal words as the young man in
> >dickens, who opened his mouth only once and murmured "Esker".
>
> One of my favourite Cardus stories.
Yes, mine too, read it a long time ago.
However... Iam blanking on the name of this one little book, which
is irritating me. Twas a quite terrific little volume, very amusing,
often with pictures on one page and some accompanying prose on the
other. For example, it would have a picture of Dickie Bird, surrounded
by players, rubbing his knee after being hit while umpiring... and
on the opposite page would be a poem from long ago "Umpire Lee was
hit on the knee, by a very fast ball from Faber". Or there would
be a picture of Boycott defending stoutly - and on the oppose page
a full version of the poem that goes "Who am I to be put off me
stroke, mum, cos a few 'ooligans boos? An Englishman's crease is
his castle, I shall stay 'ere as long as I choose". Very nice little
book it was, damned if I can remember the name now sadly (had a
few nice things copied off it too, but have misplaced them).
Anyway, the point of that long spiel (well, other than to see if anyone
else has this book and can look it up)... they had this very same
extract about Worsley and Macc-le-aren. But then there was also
*another* extract, from a whole different match-report by someone
else entirely... and that suggested that, in an Ashes test if I
remember correctly, Macc-le-aren once caught a terrific catch in
the slips, and reacted by hurling it in the air behind his back in
triumph! That is, an identical "piece 'o 'fluence" (though, of course,
a much more "proper" and "decorous" one no doubt :-) I found this
a quite fun addition to the story - if anyone has heard it, or has
read the above book, twould be great if they could post/confirm.
Sadiq [ losing his memory in his old age ] Yusuf
CiL
Cricketwallah) wrote:
>But then there was also
>*another* extract, from a whole different match-report by someone
>else entirely... and that suggested that, in an Ashes test if I
>remember correctly, Macc-le-aren once caught a terrific catch in
>the slips, and reacted by hurling it in the air behind his back in
>triumph! That is, an identical "piece 'o 'fluence" (though, of course,
>a much more "proper" and "decorous" one no doubt :-) I found this
>a quite fun addition to the story - if anyone has heard it, or has
>read the above book, twould be great if they could post/confirm.
yep, I had read it but can't figure out where, which book is this.
R. Bharat Rao
"Amol Cricketwallah" <cricke...@hotmail.com> wrote in message
news:a374a779.04041...@posting.google.com...
> Sadiq [ losing his memory in his old age ] Yusuf
Et tu Sidi? You can't be 40 yet, so whats the deal?
Anyway, I shall be moseying down to Chicago in a couple of weeks -- last
week of April sometime, and should be able to get together -- at least late
after dinner at the latest. Send me email at
rao_b...@yahoo-nospam-this.com
with the obvious drop, and lets see if we can hook up...
Bharat
Sandaas
> "Amol Cricketwallah" <cricke...@hotmail.com> wrote in message
> news:a374a779.04041...@posting.google.com...
> > Sadiq [ losing his memory in his old age ] Yusuf
>
> Et tu Sidi? You can't be 40 yet, so whats the deal?
I think following the Indian team causes you to age prematurely. By my
reckoning, Sadiq must be aged somewhere between 32 and 34, which is
hardly a spring chicken, but getting on a bit nonetheless. Plus he's
put into a constant state of tension worrying about whether or not
India wins while trying to remain an undying optimist. So memory loss
is only to be expected. It probably keeps him sane.
Aditya