What the game of base-ball is to this country--yes, and a great deal
more--cricket is to England. It is the national game, the most favored
among a people who are devoted to all kinds of out-door games and
sports.
Why, then, it may be asked, is it not more generally played in this
country?
The answer that has been given to several similar questions may,
perhaps, be given to this. We have too many railroads to build and too
many rivers to bridge to devote two whole days to a single game of
cricket.
Ay, my masters, build your railroads from ocean to ocean and from the
great lakes to the Gulf, bridge your mighty cañons and your roaring
torrents, but remember that the brain that works out the problems of the
engineer and the surveyor will work the smoother and last the longer if
it be greased occasionally with an excellent oil compounded of rest and
recreation.
It is very possible that most of our readers have never even seen a game
of cricket, especially if they live far from large cities. To the
Philadelphia boy cricket is as familiar as is base-ball to most boys. If
asked to name the "three Graces," he might answer, as pat as you please,
"E. M., W. G., and G. F.," giving the initials of the three famous
brothers Grace, whose names are familiar wherever cricket is played. But
as this paper is not for boys of any one place, but for boys all over
the country--nay, for boys wherever found--we will describe the game,
and try to show in what lies its great favor among those who know it.
Cricket is properly played by eleven persons on each side, though where
so many persons can not be brought together, a less number can play. One
side bats, and the other side bowls and fields. Two batsmen go to the
wickets, one at each end; and the first bowler delivers a ball to the
batsman opposite to him, while the fielders take their positions at a
greater or less distance from the wicket.
"Oh, well hit! well hit!"
Yes, well hit, indeed. The batsman has driven the ball right over the
bowler's head, and has already crossed between the wickets twice,
scoring two "runs." Yes, and he and his partner are trying another one.
Good! three runs off the first ball.
But another batsman is to receive the ball this time. It is the one who
was at the wicket whence the last ball was bowled. As they have made
three runs, the man who hit the last ball is at the other end now.
Ah, that was a good ball, and well he played it. There was no driving
that ball to "long on" or "long off" for three. It was well pitched up,
and had a spin on it that made it shoot along the ground instead of
rising; and so the batsman played back, and just got his bat down in
time to stop it, for it was bound for his middle stump. He is a cautious
player, the man at this end, and the bowling is straight and well
pitched.
After five balls, a man who has been standing by the bowler with his
coat on, and seeming to take no interest in the game, turns his back on
the bowler and batsman, and strolls off as if tired of looking on. Then
the fielders seem to be playing at "pussy wants a corner," for they walk
about and change places, and then another man begins to bowl from the
other wicket.
The fact is, you did not hear the man with his coat on call, "Over!"
Well, he did so. Not that the game is over, or the innings, or anything
else. They are simply going to bowl from the other end, and so all the
fielders have to change their positions so as to occupy the same
position with regard to the batsman. The man with the coat on is one of
the umpires (there is one at each wicket), and it is part of his
business to count the balls bowled. When one man has bowled four or five
balls, as the case may be, another man bowls the same number from the
other wicket.
"Well bowled! oh, good ball!"
The meaning of these cries arising from the spectators is that the new
bowler has sent the middle stump of one of the batsmen flying, and our
friend retires to the tent, where he is greeted with some little
applause by his comrade. And so one man out of the eleven is "out."
The next man walks up and takes his place, and the game goes on. He is a
careful player, this new man, but he is a hard hitter also. See how he
swung his bat round to his left side, and sent that last ball to "leg"
for four runs. Now he has the ball again, and for "over" after "over" he
and his partner give the fielders plenty to do. Look at the board on
which the score is displayed. It marks sixty runs, and only one man out.
This is getting serious. The Captain of the fielders calls one of his
men up to him, and says a few words. Some new tactics are to be tried.
The next "over" reveals what they are. The batsmen have become used to
the bowling, and so, like a wise man, the Captain puts on a fresh
bowler.
The new man's balls seem easy enough. See, there one goes for three or
four runs at least. But wait a little. This underhand bowling is
tempting, but it is also dangerous. A beautiful easy ball comes which
the batsman steps to meet, and drives high over the heads of the near
fielders, but away off there in the distance a man is posted to look
after just such balls as this. He sees it coming, keeps his eye on it,
runs backward a few paces, and it is in his hand before it touches the
ground. And so the second man is caught out.
By the time the third man is out, the score has reached a hundred, but
after that the wickets fall more quickly. The bowling is changed as
often as it is found that the batsmen can master it, and the fielders
are on the alert.
There is but one more wicket to fall, and the score bids fair to reach
two hundred. One hundred would have seemed a good score, had they not
already nearly doubled that number, and now they are straining every
nerve to gain the wished-for two hundred.
[Illustration: A GAME OF CRICKET--"RUN OUT."]
They are stealing runs now; that is, they are running where there is
great risk of the ball being thrown up to the wicket before they can
reach it; and if the ball strikes the wicket before the batsman reaches
it, he is "run out." Stealing runs is a risky game, and-- Yes; well,
there is a proof of it. Yonder long-legged fellow has slipped and
fallen, and though he stretches out his bat as far as possible, he can
not reach his "ground"; he is "run out," and the innings is over for one
hundred and ninety-nine runs.
The fielders retire to the shade of the tent, and two of them soon come
forth to take their places with the bat, while the remainder enjoy their
well-earned rest. Those who have had their innings take up their
positions in the field, and the first innings of the other side begins.
Then the excitement is renewed. Shouts of applause or encouragement
greet every good or unlucky deed of the players, and as the innings
draws to a close, the interest increases. It takes two innings on each
side to decide the match, and a game is never lost until it is won. Of
course in cricket there is good luck and bad, but in this game, as in
all others where skill plays the principal part, luck counts for but
little in the long-run. The best players nearly always win.
Cricket may be played six months in the year, and those who play it
think six months none too much. It is a social game also, and a good
club can always arrange matches with neighboring clubs, and so friendly
is the feeling among players that a visiting eleven nearly always
declare, when they go home after a match, that they were never better
treated in their lives. In the skill required, the variety of
excitement, and the friendly feeling that it promotes, lie the claims of
cricket to the favor it enjoys.
[Illustration: THE LITTLE ORPHAN.]