SPECIAL EXERCISES AND NOTES ON PRACTICE.
If any reader can easily perform the various movements of Cricket as
shown in the photographs and in the actual play of experts, he does not
require special exercises for Cricket. But--if we may judge by
results--he is the exception; he is the genius, the born player. How is
it that we have so long tolerated Carlyle’s ridiculous assertion,
“Genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains”? This is just
precisely what genius is not. In Cricket the genius-player plays
correctly without taking pains, almost without taking thought. For such
players this book is not written. It is written for beginners and
others, to suggest certain exercises and practice and principles of
practice which are not necessarily quite correct, but which are the
best which some of the most successful models have hitherto enabled me
to devise in order that care and art “may triumph over nature till art
becomes natural.” It is this second nature, this sedulously acquired
nature, which now has become so much a part of myself at Tennis or
Racquets that the sedulous attention is utterly denied by many. What I
have done at these games, others can do at Cricket.
Is such practice worth while? will be the question asked here, as in the
chapter on Training. Here, as there, the answer depends on whether
Cricket well (or better) played is worth while? What is meant by Cricket
well played? Enjoyment, health, physical and mental and moral education.
If these are brought or increased by improvement, and if improvement
results from such practice, then such practice is worth while. Only
personal experiment can decide on the merits or demerits of the system;
certainly it is economical of time as well as of money, since five or
ten minutes a day are quite enough.
The part-by-part system of practice has been defended at some length in
“The Training of the Body.” American athletes use it with great energy
and great success; examples are given in the chapter on Fielding. Mr.
Edward Lyttelton, in his book on Cricket, remarks of the learner that
“his principal task may be described as learning certain motions till
they become habits....” While he frequently advises bedroom-practice
with a bat and without a ball, he does not suggest bedroom-practice
without a bat. Yet it is by such practice first of one part of the
mechanism, then of another, that all the parts can be made good and easy
and then by degrees be combined harmoniously together in good and easy
strokes. Otherwise some part or parts will almost certainly be done
wrongly.
For many of the strokes and other movements of Cricket are not
natural--are even against the natural movements. The reader should study
what Ranjitsinhji says on pp. 152 and 158 of his book (First Edition).
He says: “Both batting and bowling call into play particular muscles” (I
suppose he means “combinations of muscles”) “which they alone can
exercise.” One might add wicket-keeping and fielding, with their quick
stooping and stretching to this side or to that. Let the forward-stroke
be again outlined, to show how little likely one is ever to master its
mechanism without mastering the parts of it.
In order to smother a ball successfully by forward-play, one needs an
eye to watch and observe intelligently and to send a report quickly and
accurately to the brain, and then to watch again; this, and what will
follow, one needs to have as nearly automatic as possible. One must have
a good brain to order and ensure correct and well-timed and co-ordinated
movements of the muscles; these include (1) a rapid and direct lunge of
the left foot, slightly to the left of the approaching ball, and with
the body-weight; (2) a firm right foot and straight right leg; (3) the
head coming (with the body-weight) over the left foot; (4) a rapid and
direct extension of left wrist, left elbow, left shoulder, the knuckles
of the left hand leading the way, the fullest force to come at the
instant when the bat shall strike the ball; (5) a straight bat (covering
the wickets as much as possible); (6) preservation or rapid recovery of
balance; (7) alertness to run forward, if necessary. These being some of
the requisites, how many are likely to possess them merely through
net-practice or games?
Of course some net-practice and games must come before and while the
part-by-part system is tried, if only to give interest to the system, to
show the difficulties of the game, to show the progress made,
and--because human nature is as it is. But too many games by themselves
will tend chiefly to accentuate and habituate the natural movements,
which are faults. The probability of many faults--I myself had nearly
all when I played--will be clear if we consider how many different
classes of movements are involved in the stock-in-trade of a good
all-round cricketer. We are so deluged by the general word “exercise,”
that we forget how many provinces it has, instead of being simply a
matter of large biceps and power to lift weights. Such symptoms have
little to do with success in Cricket; they may even have something to do
with failure in so far as--for example--they bring with them slowness
and neglect of the internal organs of the body. I notice that one book
of “Physical Culture” suggests a series of strain-exercises as useful
for batting, bowling, etc. I should consider these to be hindrances
rather than helps. Imagine a person who should practise fast throwing,
by movements against a strong resistance!
If only in order to expose the fallacy that every form of
“exercise”--any and every exercise in a gymnasium or elsewhere--must be
useful for the motions of Cricket, let us note
THE DIFFERENT CLASSES OF EXERCISES
which are demanded by Cricket as a “trinity of games,” including the two
very complex arts of batting (forward-play, driving, back-play, cutting,
etc.), and of fielding (starting, running, catching, picking up,
throwing in, etc.).
Fast full movements are to be found in all these departments of the
game, as the photographs will show: for example, one often stretches out
quickly to the full reach in forward-play, in overhand bowling, in
fielding a ball nearly out of reach.
These and other features of play require not only a fast and full
movement, but also an independent control of the various muscles in
various combinations, and a rapid start.
Fast and partial (or arrested) movements are scarcely less important.
Thus the batsman must be able to draw certain strokes up with a sharp
jerk, lest he send a catch; the bowler to alter his action by using some
part of his mechanism only slightly; the fielder to let go the ball at
the right point during the action of the throw. The feint at boxing and
at all games often requires this partial or arrested movement of some
muscles, and therefore, again, independent control of these as well as a
rapid start.
Some movements will be fast, some less fast, some quite slow. One should
control the pace.
This must all be with balance: he who has played forward must
immediately be ready to run; he who has bowled, to catch or field or get
behind the wicket; he who has run to field a ball, to throw it in. “The
ready,” that is to say the most effective _point de départ_, must be
lost either never or for the smallest possible fragment of time.
In the first class of movements we had extensions, say of the left arm
in fielding, made fast and fully. Sometimes such extensions must be not
only _made_, but also _held_, as when one stoops to field a ball with
the left hand or stretches that hand out to make a high catch. At the
end of this complete and sustained stretch there must be mastery of the
mechanism: the hand must first yield slightly, then grasp safely.
Some strength is needed for forearm, wrist, thumb and fingers, etc. It
is probable that strength is a quality to be acquired last, or at any
rate after the rapid and ready and independent control of the muscles;
lest prematurely elaborated strength and strain bring sluggishness and
tardiness.
The numerous co-ordinations of muscles and muscle-groups (as outlined
above, in the case of the forward stroke), must be under the sway of the
well-timing eye which sends reports through the nervous system.
Exercises are needed in observation as well as--to use technical
language--in “quick and correct response to external stimulus,” in
“immediate and happy selection of harmoniously performing muscular
combinations.” To the accuracy of observation, and of choice of muscles,
the senses of hearing and touch also contribute their share. Some expert
players exercise them abundantly.
The imagination (based on the memory) must play an important part; aside
from any picture-painting in the mind, of oneself as batting correctly
but attackingly, bowling steadily but headily, fielding surely but
briskly, one must have as a kind of background during the game the
position of the wickets, the fielders, and so on.
It would be possible to classify the exercises differently. Thus we
might consider, for example, running (ordinary starting and running
forwards and backwards, sideways starting and sideways running forwards
and backwards--no easy task--), jumping, bending, turning, lunging,
stretching, and so on. There will be movements not only for the feet and
legs and trunk, but also for the neck in various directions, for the
shoulder (jerking and twisting), the whole arm, the forearm, the wrist,
the fingers; if one studies three or four catches, one sees how many
parts of the body are to be used.
But the feet and legs are the foundation. We hear much talk of the
straight bat and the straight line of the bat’s movement; but the feet
and legs, their positions, their poise, their motions--these are the
roots of success in Cricket as in Racquets and Tennis. I attribute
nearly nine-tenths of my mistakes at these games to-day to mistakes made
by the feet.
Last, but not least, we must mention the need for supplementary
exercises. Cricket should be not only trained for, prepared for, and
played, but also supplemented. Left-side exercises, in particular,
should correct the balance upset by the excessive use of the right side.
Before we come to details, to actual exercises, we must first know how
to do these exercises. A few hints on practice and its methods are
indispensable. I crave the reader’s patience while he listens to what
may seem unpractical, but is really no less essential than the exercises
themselves.
GENERAL HINTS ON THE EXERCISES AND ON PRACTICE.
The exercises which follow in the next section are not complete; they
are samples which each reader should supplement as well as correct.
There is need of individual observation here as everywhere; let every
one be prepared to amend and to add. This will make my suggestions far
more interesting and useful. For instance, let him watch how it is that
men get out or send chances; let him watch (in games or from behind
nets) each part of the stroke separately at first--the feet in
particular. Let him ask professionals and other experts about the right
pose and the right motion of each part.
Then let him practise part by part.
For if the whole movement consists of ten to twenty parts combined
together, and if of these ten to twenty parts at least five to ten parts
are naturally wrong, how can he ever learn the whole satisfactorily, how
can he ever unlearn the wrong and learn the right whole, unless he
unlearn the wrong and learn the right _parts_, one by one? As Mr. Edward
Lyttelton says, “On the principle of doing one thing at a time, it is
admissible in practice, especially at first, to concentrate the
attention upon each requirement separately. He ought to do the one, but
not leave the others undone!” Let me illustrate this. At one time I
could not write an essay; _all_ my essays were marked as very bad. Then
I found out by degrees that essay-writing (like batting or fielding) was
_a complex art_, and included, for me, the collection of true and useful
ideas, the selection of those which were wanted, the underlining of the
most important, the illustration of these by comparisons, contrasts,
etc., the arrangement of these and the others, care for the beginning
that it might be interesting, care for the ending that it might be
impressive, and then--and not till then--the expression of the ideas,
which was to be grammatical, clear, brief, forcible, appropriate,
musical, and indeed full of virtues. All these processes can be
considered separately; I believe that they can all be mastered
separately; I believe that an essay can possess any one or two or more
of these virtues without possessing the rest. I am trying to improve
gradually in each process separately. This also has been my method for
learning Racquets and Tennis and other games. I have called it the
part-by-part method. A perfect whole is not a mere collection of perfect
parts; it is a perfectly harmonious co-operation of perfect parts. The
perfect parts must be combined. Yet the common sense of the reader will
tell him that no perfect whole can possibly exist _unless every part_ of
it be perfect in itself. Let the genius do his work without knowing how;
duffers like myself must be content to begin by separate control of the
individual mechanisms. The combinations can be made later on.
Even if we insist on doing the whole as a whole, yet it is on each part
in turn that we must concentrate our mind and focus our attention.
Independent control must, as a general rule, precede the various
combinations. Such concentration on each part in turn need not produce
jerkiness: it has not done so (except at the beginning of the practice)
where I have applied it. It has seemed rather to send more blood to the
part used, to shorten the process of learning.
It is important that one should _at first look at the part which is
being used_, till it can attend to itself by itself; that is, until it
works easily and half-automatically. Or, if one likes, one can look at
the reflection of that part in a mirror: this plan has its advantages.
Choose whichever plan you prefer.
For every reason, including attention, slow and full breathing through
the nose is essential to good practice.
Correctness must precede pace, and correctness with me has always
demanded not only attention but also slowness at the start.
Pace is the next requisite. It comes to some extent with sheer
repetition; but it must also be increased purposely. It must precede
endurance and strength. For my own games I begin with no implement at
all, so as to preserve freedom; then I use a handle; then the racket. I
put speed and freedom and ease next after correctness.
Endurance can almost be left to take care of itself. The oftener one
does an exercise correctly and attentively, the less easily tired the
muscles will be.
Only one must not practise to excess. Before great fatigue or even
before great boredom, the exercise should be stopped or changed. During
the interval the newly-learnt movements will be more completely
“assimilated.” When the joints are well freed, the movements should be
not only fast but also full--that is, complete in both directions, so as
to empty out the capillaries of the muscles and allow fresh blood to
flow in.
For the sake of economy of energy the unused parts should be loose and
relaxed, not tight and tense.
Exercises done thus, with a brisk snap, and a staccatoed 1´--2´, or--for
a forward-stroke--oút--báck, are far more valuable than the dull
strength-and-strain grinding of many so-called physical culture schools.
These extensions of the muscles should be not simply made and then
lost; they should be held for a second or two. This holding of the
extreme limit of reach will be a wonderful help for batting, bowling,
and fielding. Notice the full extensions in photographs.
The balance is to be recovered promptly or else not lost appreciably.
The different simple movements, thoroughly mastered, should be combined
in twos, and then in threes, the complexity being increased gradually,
but without the decrease either of correctness or of promptitude.
Strength--the power to lift or push or sustain heavy weights--is to come
last of all. The wrist needs considerable strength, but it must not get
that strength till after it has speed. Any strain that cramps one and
makes one slow is undesirable for the mind as well as for the body.
Faults should be detected by another, or by means of comparison between
photographs of experts and one’s self in a looking-glass. Having
detected the fault, correct it by concentrating the mind on the part
concerned, and then _exaggerating the opposite fault_. Thus, if you are
inclined to send catches in the slips, you are probably playing away to
the left rather than straight at the ball. Find out which part of your
mechanism is wrong; perhaps the left foot may be moving too much to the
left. If so, then correct that by moving it purposely too much to the
right. Find the error, and find the reason why it is an error.
Many short, sharp spells, with concentration, may be better than one
long spell.
The maximum of air and light should be admitted into the
exercising-place, and the minimum of clothing should be worn. There
should be a good wash and rub afterwards.
There are many odd moments when wrist- or finger-exercises may be tried;
or when a cricket-ball may be handled and fingered till it becomes a
familiar friend. Thus the grips of Hirst (see the photographs) and
others can be partially mastered in this way.
As to the imitation of others, authorities differ. Certainly I should
say, Do not imitate any marked peculiarities until you have control of
the chief muscles which you may have to use. It is only after mastering
the complete mechanism that you are in a position to choose. Premature
imitation is not advisable. Later on, it may be well to study some
expert of about one’s own build, and try whether certain of his habits
are useful to oneself or not.
So far from urging that less attention be paid to the learning of
Cricket, I urge that far more attention be paid to it _at the
beginning_, if Cricket is to be played at all. I should like to see a
few lessons thoroughly learnt; I should like to see these made
interesting by biograph-mutoscope illustrations, especially of bowlers.
A series of such illustrations would pay a Company well. The boys should
watch these and then reproduce them. I should urge more attention _at
the beginning; but, on the whole, less time_. A quarter of an hour’s
practice might often take the place of play or net-practice at the
beginning. There would be increased economy of time, and afterwards
increased skill and enjoyment. One would be training “Young England” in
method.
* * * * *
We may now give samples of
ACTUAL EXERCISES,
referring the reader further to the special Chapters on Fielding, etc.
We have already insisted on the importance of foot-and-leg exercises in
starting, running (sideways and backwards and forwards as well as
straight forwards), jumping, bending, and stretching. The exercises lie
at the roots of successful play, even if a few genius-players can bat
well without them. For batting one needs in particular the
sideways-running with the straight right leg as the basis of action.
The body-swing upon the hips, with powerful play of the muscles round
the shoulder, is scarcely less useful in all three departments of the
game: it has been described in a previous chapter. Every fast bowler
knows how his back under his arms (especially the latissimus dorsi
muscles) aches after his first day of practice.
The shoulders should be jerked up, down, backwards, forwards; and also
rotated. To keep both shoulders always back is not the ideal for a
cricketer, who must be able to move either shoulder in any direction
which the joints and muscles allow. If one feels the shoulders of good
players while they go through the action of batting (including the cut
of some players), bowling, and fielding, one is amazed at the amount of
work that they do, work for which the arm and wrist get much of the
credit.
The forearm also requires to be jerked powerfully and fully, especially
by the action (as already described) of whipping a peg-top.
Full extensions of the arm are to be made in various directions: for
example, one should reach up, down, out, across. They should be made,
and then _held_. At the end of them should be added some action of the
fingers. It must be remembered that the wrist and fingers have to do not
a little work at the full extension, whether in bowling or in fielding
or (occasionally) in batting. Let the wrist-joint go the full distance;
beyond that point let it move about, and let the fingers move about.
The hand needs to be shaken out as if it were a flag at the end of a
stick. Then let it be exercised in various directions. First let there
be the freedom, next the fast and full movements in each direction, next
the partial movements.
Finger-exercises can be tried at any vacant moment. The other hand can
help to free them and stretch them and strengthen them by resistance:
for here, as with the wrist, one does need some strength, some straining
power, against the ball or bat.
Massage is useful throughout these exercises, but is most easily
applied to the fingers. “Deposits,” which are causes and signs of fatal
stiffness, may thus be removed, while the use of oil rubbed in, and
attention to diet, will hasten the cure. The heat-treatment (known as
the “baking-cure”), and the electric-light treatment, are both to be
recommended.
Each finger should be exercised and developed separately, but the first
finger in particular, for the sake of batting as well as bowling: the
bat sometimes is held chiefly if not solely by this finger and the
thumb. The full extensions and full flexions should be eventually both
fast and strong, and also independent of the wrist-movements, so that
for instance, while the bowler’s wrist is still or putting on one break,
his fingers may move or be putting on another break, with intent to
deceive. The thumb must not be neglected. It can be freed and extended
and strengthened by the aid of the other hand.
As we suggested just now, a ball should occasionally be held in the
otherwise idle fingers, a Lawn Tennis ball being at first preferable
until the fingers have stretched and grown powerful. Various grips and
movements should thus become familiar. A box-full of old balls might be
used in order to practise bowling or fielding: the Lawn Tennis ball
exhibits the effects of a break or curl in the air far more clearly than
a Cricket ball. The practice may be by the player himself against a
wall, or with another player, a stump being put between the two, and a
third player acting as wicket-keep.
There should be practice of alertness, of control of the body’s weight,
after each set of large muscle movements. For Racquets and Tennis I
often practise in my bedroom a hard service of one kind or another, and
then I immediately recover that waiting position from which I must be
prepared to start in almost any direction _at once_. I suppose that
skating must be almost the ideal training for weight-control.
The following exercises may be found very useful for various reasons:
Peg-top whipping, some ball-game exerciser (like the patent for Lawn
Tennis, but adapted to Cricket), Fencing, Boxing, Bartitsu, Hockey,
Golf, Racquets, Tennis, Lawn Tennis, Fives, Squash, hopping and
skipping.
These are merely suggestions. Each reader is urged to devise his own
means of exercise. Let him work on the lines that Mr. C. B. Fry so
admirably lays down in an article in the “Strand.” He says, with
reference to his high jumping: “I believe what did me more good than
anything else was doing standing jumps regularly, every morning, over a
big arm-chair in my room;” and, again: “Although, like most other
footballers, I improved in value in some respects after I left school,
and became heavier and stronger, I have never since been able to kick as
neatly and accurately as I could then. I put this down partly to the
constant practice we used to have at school in kicking a football about
at odd hours, on a piece of ground called the paddock, and partly to the
constant playing of what we called ‘yard football.’ We used to play this
game in the asphalt yards attached to our houses, wearing tennis shoes
and using an indiarubber ball about a third the size of a football. This
game made one very accurate and quick with one’s feet. I have often
wished since I could get the same sort of practice.”
Mr. Edward Lyttelton is equally to the point, when he remarks: “The
truth must be insisted on; many a cricket match has been won in the
bedroom. And even with the ball a good deal may be done. I could name
two eminent batsmen who used, as boys, to wait till after the day’s play
was over, and the careless crowd had departed, and in the pavilion gave
ten minutes or a quarter of an hour to practising a particular style of
defence, about which more anon; the one bowled fast sneaks along the
floor to the other, at about ten paces distance. This, too, yielded
fruit in its time. Like all other great achievements, the getting a
score against good bowling is the result of drudgery, patiently,
faithfully borne. But the drudgery of cricket is itself a pleasure, and
let no young cricketer suppose that he can dispense with it, though some
few gifted performers have done great things with apparently little
effort.”
Besides the exercises outlined here, each player should certainly use
_supplementary_ exercises, especially for the breathing muscles, the
abdominal muscles, the erector spinae, and the trapezius. So many of
them are needed to correct deformities that I prefer not to offer any
samples here. Some system should be chosen which gives exercises
graduated according to the individual.[6]
The left side needs to be used in exercises and in games. A few words
must be said about this much-neglected half.
The left side probably should not be trained up to the same pitch of
excellence and versatility as the right side. Not only are some of the
organs on the two sides different (for example, the stomach, liver, and
heart), but apparently the supply of blood to the two sides is not
equal. On the other hand, our present neglect and consequent atrophy of
the left side is scandalously unfair and obviously disastrous in its
general results on health and physique. Even for Cricket alone, we
require the left side for fielding, and (far more than most people
imagine) for batting, especially in forward-play. Moreover, there should
be more than one left-hand bowler in each team. Such a bowler’s ball
approaches the batsman from an unusual direction and with an unusual
break, tending to elicit catches on the off-side. The Americans, led by
Professor Tadd, have shown that the left arm can draw and model and do
other things practically as well as the right; and the majority of
children brought up on Tadd’s principles are nearly ambidextrous.
But how can _we_ become left-handed? Well, apart from left-side
exercises, and such forms of sport as Boxing and Fives, we can employ
the left hand in opening doors, cutting bread, and so on. Occasionally
left-handed games and matches would certainly vary the dulness of a
season’s Cricket--and this will apply equally to Lawn Tennis and other
games.
But at present we are too truly a stiff-legged people, slow to start; as
well as a one-sided people, not masters of our full forces. The reason
for mental stupidity and atrophy must be partly physical. Brain-work
alone--especially such as we are generally offered as intellectual
“education”--is little likely by itself to remove such national faults.
A word may be said in conclusion, with reference not to “educators” but
to teachers of Cricket.
While teaching a beginner, let them insist on the essential elements of
good play, and give the reason why those elements are essential. Why not
flourish the bat? Why not draw the right foot away to the leg-side? The
answers to such questions are most helpful, and are very likely to
induce a player to correct mistakes when otherwise he might not be
convinced that he was radically wrong or know how he was radically
wrong.
The practice of part-by-part should be encouraged, Mr. Edward
Lyttelton’s hints about bedroom exercise being constantly borne in mind.
The movements should be explained and illustrated and _performed_ by the
teacher not only as complex wholes but also as simple parts. The teacher
should say, for example, “Watch my left foot while I play forward. No;
stand behind me, and watch its line. Now watch my left elbow.” He should
at first work slowly. Comparisons and contrasts are among the best of
helps. Compare cutting to peg-top whipping; compare the left-foot lunge
to the fencing lunge; contrast the alertness of the fielder and (if he
have Abel’s activity) of the batsman with the fixed “stance” of the
golfer, whose eye must not follow the ball’s flight at once.
Let the teacher urge the beginner to correct his faults by exaggerating
in the opposite direction: if the batsman’s right leg inclines to bend
itself, let it be kept rigidly stiff, ridiculously straight.
Individuality must not be crushed. But it must not be fostered unless
the player already has the necessary mechanisms of the various parts of
play--batting and bowling--under control. The player must not hope to
form his style out of a stock-in-trade consisting of less than half the
muscular elements which practically _every_ successful player possesses.
The genius-player may safely be left to move along his own lines, with
occasional supervision. The duffer-player, like myself, must not be left
to do so; first he must learn to use those muscles, and especially those
large muscles, which the best players use--for example, in forward-play,
the full extension of right leg and left wrist. Then, if I may repeat
the old metaphor, having mastered the spelling and the vocabulary, let
him at length write his own writing; having collected the bricks and
mortar and wood, let him at length build his own building.