BOWLING: BY A. G. STEEL.
[Illustration: ‘The demon bowler.’]
Everyone who knows anything at all about cricket will at once admit
that bowling is, to say the least, as important a feature of the game
as batting. The same share of fame has always been conferred on a
really good bowler as on an expert at the other great branch of the
game; but, though this has been so from the very earliest days of
cricket, there is no doubt that the number of good bowlers whose names
figure in the chronicles of the game is much smaller than the number
of good batsmen. This would seem to show that the art of bowling is
more difficult of attainment than its sister accomplishment, and in
face of this supposition, it seems strange that the energy devoted to
practising bowling by all beginners at the game should be so greatly
exceeded by that devoted to batting. The reason for this may easily
be found in the fact that the pleasure derived from making a long
score, and the indescribable feelings of delight experienced by every
keen cricketer when he has a bat in his hand, seem to offer greater
attractions than the more sober, less flashy, and apparently more
mechanical duties of a bowler. It is a great pity, in the interests
of the game, that at our large public schools and universities more
care is not taken to coach beginners in bowling. Hours upon hours are
devoted to the teaching of batting, but it is very, very seldom any
professional ever thinks of endeavouring to instil into his pupils any
of the most elementary rules of bowling.
A question which cannot fail to present itself to the minds of all
cricketers, and especially those who recollect some of the heroes
of bygone days, is whether the bowling of to-day is as good as it
used to be. This particular question--so often put, and answered so
differently--seems to me to be one which it is impossible to decide,
as the whole nature of the game has altered so much in the last few
years. This alteration is due, firstly, to the great improvement in the
condition of the grounds; secondly, to the corresponding improvement
in batting, for ‘the better the grounds the better the batsmen,’ is
generally a correct saying. Formerly bowlers were greatly assisted by
the unevenness of the grounds; whereas now, on our billiard-table-like
wickets, even our very best bowlers know well that their chance of
getting rid of a strong batting side for anything under 300 runs is
extremely remote. It is impossible to compare the tall-hatted old
heroes of the ball with bowlers of the present day. In olden days
the badness of the grounds caused the best batsman’s wicket to be in
frequent jeopardy, and fast erratic bowlers were well aware that there
would be ample compensation for any accuracy which might be wanting
in their delivery in the far from infrequent shooters and abruptly
rising balls which so often either levelled the stumps or compelled
the retirement of the batsman by a catch in the slips. Nowadays a
bowler is nothing unless he has command of the ball and can practise
variety: batting is so good and grounds are so level that the merely
accurate bowler may keep down runs, but he cannot get wickets, but this
fact is hardly realised yet, and our best bowlers--and these consist
almost exclusively of the professional class--seem to aim not so much
at getting rid of a batsman as at keeping down the runs by bowling a
good even straight length, and trusting to chance or the impatience of
the batsman for his dismissal. As, however, this subject is one which
will best be treated later on, and about which there is a good deal to
be said, we will leave it for the present, and turn our attention to a
short retrospect of bowling from the earliest days.
Round-arm bowling seems to have come into vogue in 1825. It has been
generally supposed that Mr. Willes was the first to start it, and the
following story is told of the way in which that gentleman found out
the advantages of the round-arm delivery. Mr. Willes, being a most
enthusiastic cricketer, and not content with the summer months for his
favourite sport, used in the winter daily to repair to his barn, and
there measure out the proper distance, pitch the stumps, and, with
his sister (also an enthusiast) as bowler, enjoy a good practice. Now
everyone who has seen ladies attempting to throw a stone or cricket
ball will remember that they invariably have a half-round, half-under
sort of delivery, and this Miss Willes, in common with the majority
of ladies, seems to have possessed. Her brother, accustomed to play
against what in those days was the only known style of bowling, viz.
under-arm, was somewhat perplexed and worried with this unknown
feminine species of ball, which doubtless he found difficult to tackle.
How amusing it would have been to have watched this keen cricketer,
probably not unconscious of his own merits as a batsman, entirely
puzzled by the deliveries of a lady! We are not told whether his
feelings of shame at being thus defeated, or of delight at discovering
this new style of bowling, predominated, but we _are_ told that shortly
afterwards he made his _début_ as a round-arm bowler, and met with
(until he was stopped by the conservatism of the crowd) the greatest
success.
From the year 1825 down to the present, round-arm bowling has been
universal, and it is now quite an exceptional occurrence to come
across a fast under-arm bowler of the old style. This is not much to
be regretted, as every attribute of good bowling which was obtainable
by the fast under-arm delivery is much more easy of attainment by
the round or over-arm style; and many accomplishments pertaining to
the bowler’s art are possible to the round-arm which, from the very
nature of the action, are impossible to the fast under-arm bowler.
Break, spin, and quickness from the pitch are common to both styles,
but certainly the two latter are made easier of acquirement by the
round-arm style; and with regard to break--an easier matter for the
under-arm bowler--the ball that breaks or twists the most is not
as a rule the ball that gets the most wickets. To a fast under-arm
bowler the variations in flight and pace, so well known to the best
round-arm bowlers, are unknown. Slow under-arm bowling, of course,
must be excepted from these remarks; later on in this chapter I shall
have something to say on the subject of this most useful style, which
unfortunately in later years seems almost to have died out.
It was formerly the reproach of amateurs that from the year 1875 to,
say, 1887 they had no bowlers. When Appleby and Buchanan retired from
first-class cricket in 1875, there was practically nobody except Grace
and Studd to carry on the lamp of amateur bowling till Woods, Jackson,
Kortright, Streatfeild, Wells, Bull, Jessop, Cunliffe, and Wilson by
their pace and accuracy have shown the public what can be done. Woods,
Kortright, Jackson, and Jessop for pace, Bull and Wells for slow, and
Cunliffe and Wilson for medium are all excellent in their respective
classes, and in the sixties, when the grounds would have given them
more assistance, they would have been far more deadly than now. Still
it is a fact that at most public schools more teaching ought to be
bestowed upon bowling. A few words of instruction or encouragement to
a beginner might have the effect of awakening in him the interest and
keenness about bowling which would eventually cause his development
into a good, or at any rate a fairish bowler. Who has not seen over and
over again a boy come up to a net where a companion is practising, and
picking up a ball, which as likely as not is about half as large again
as a match ball, proceed to hammer away at the batsman for about ten
minutes or more in all directions, with all pitches, and, what is worse
than everything, with different lengths of run? Then, perhaps, getting
a little tired, as any bowler will who bowls for long without a rest
(which he would get in a match at the end of each over), he exclaims,
‘Now I’ll give you some of Spofforth’s patents!’ and then, with a long
run and a kangaroo-like bound (but, probably, altogether unlike the
famous Australian bowler), he proceeds to hurl the ball wider and in a
more erratic style than ever. Then, perhaps, he will say, ‘Would you
like some of W. G.’s?’ and immediately assuming the well-known and
somewhat inartistic pose of the English champion, proceed to toss the
ball lifeless up in the air. Now this is not the way to learn how to
bowl. Bowling, like everything else worth doing, takes a lot of careful
practice before it can be expected to meet with success.
There can be no doubt that were boys carefully trained at school in
the art of bowling, as they are in that of batting, our universities,
from which the ranks of our first-class cricketers are usually
replenished, would be continually sending up men who could take the
position as leading bowlers now occupied by professionals. But, it
may be asked, if we have a supply of fairly good bowlers, what does
it matter whether they are professionals or amateurs? There are two
answers to this question: first, that the Gentlemen every year play
the Players, and are naturally always anxious to beat them; and,
secondly, that the more cricket gets into the hands of professional
players, the worse it will be for the game and its reputation. We
would not say one word against the personal character of the English
professional cricketer, for the great majority of this class are
honest, hard-working, and sober men. We only say that it is not in
the interests of cricket that any branch of the game should be left
entirely in their hands. Your professional, as a rule, is the son of
a small tradesman, or person in that rank of life, and has been born
in a neighbourhood where the greatest interest is taken in sport of
all kinds, cricket during the summer months being sedulously played.
These neighbourhoods are far more frequent in the northern than the
southern counties, the sporting tendencies of the people of Lancashire,
Yorkshire, and Nottingham being developed to a much greater extent
than in the more southern shires. These three counties, and especially
Notts, turn out large quantities of young professionals yearly.
A boy who has been born in one of these cricketing districts is sure to
devote a fair share of his time to watching the victories and defeats
of his village club, and consequently to imbibing that feeling of
‘pleasing madness’ connected with the game which attacks every cricket
enthusiast. The height of his ambition is to bowl a ball or two to the
village champion batsman, and when the opportunity arises to gratify
his wish you will see him, hardly higher than the stumps, bowling with
an action exactly similar to the crack village bowler, and scorning to
encroach so much as an inch over the line of the bowling stump. And oh!
what sleepless nights ensue from the anticipation of actually seeing
with his own eyes on the following Saturday one of the real cracks
of England--one who has positively played in Gentlemen _v._ Players,
or represented England against Australia! No wonder the boy becomes
imbued with keenness for the game, when everyone in the village, from
the parson to the old lady who keeps the sweetshop, is continually
talking about cricket. As the boy grows older he begins to make his
mark in the village club, and when he is eighteen or nineteen, to the
delight of his father, mother, sisters, and himself, he is selected
to make one of the twenty-two colts of his county that are chosen
to play against the county team. After having played in public, and
perhaps tasted the pleasures of success, the father finds that his son
is restless and disturbed in his trade, and wishes to give it up and
become a professional cricketer. So it happens that his name is sent up
to the county secretary as wanting a situation, and the young fellow
finds himself launched into the world on his own account as a cricket
professional.
With regard to the young man’s prospect of success on starting in his
new life, we are bound to say that, assuming he has only the average
cricket ability of the ordinary professional, his chances of even
making a livelihood are not particularly bright. He may, and no doubt
will, earn as much as 2_l._ a week, or even more, during the summer
months; but at the end of August or beginning of September he will find
himself with very little money in his pocket, and seven of the coldest
and worst months of the year to face. He _may_ get employment in the
winter months--many professionals do, either as colliers or as porters,
or some other work. We have known them to do clerk’s work for railways
in the winter; but all work for men only willing to stick to it for a
few months is extremely uncertain, and there can be no doubt that many
cricket professionals have a bad time in the winter.
On the whole, professionals who have an assured place in their county
eleven have, for men of their social position, a very good time. They
only get nominally 5_l._ a match, but this often means a minimum wage
of 10_l._ a week, and besides this they are well known and consequently
well advertised, and this means a good deal. Many have shops for sale
of cricket goods and golf clubs, footballs and archery, _cum multis
aliis_. A great many become publicans, which, though many of us think
a loathsome profession, is at any rate a livelihood, and they become
publicans because they are well known and popular, and brewers like
such men to manage their public-houses. Even if they keep no shop,
they are constantly selling bats and balls, and a fair proportion of
them, the picked men of the profession, get permanent posts in public
schools. When there is no county match on a great many, especially in
the North, get engagements in the detestable modern one-day league
match. Leaving publicans out of the question, at the present day, from
our own knowledge, the following old and young professionals keep
cricket shops: Daft, Shaw and Shrewsbury, Gunn, Watson, Briggs, Sugg,
Nichols, Abel, the two Quaifes, Walter Wright, Baldwin, Peate, Ward,
Tunnicliffe, and George Hearne, and there are no doubt many more; while
the following have permanent engagements as coaches at schools, often
with a shop also: Wright of Nottingham, Louis Hall, Woof, Emmett, F.
Ward, Wootton, and Painter.
In addition to all this, in some counties there has arisen, in the last
year or so, a system of winter wages, or a bonus paid about Christmas,
and when all things are considered, we cannot help thinking that a
professional of ability who is steady has a better time of it than any
other working man; and even if not a publican or shopkeeper, many have
trades to which they can turn their hands in the winter.
The first-class professional cricketer is usually a well-made,
strong-looking man, ranging from two or three and twenty to thirty
five, with agreeable, quiet manners. He is a great favourite with the
crowd, and when his side is in may be seen walking round the ground
surrounded by a body of admirers, any one of whom is ready and willing
at any moment to treat his ideal hero to a glass of anything he may
wish for. It is greatly to the player’s credit that in the face of this
temptation to insobriety he is such a sober, temperate man. I have
never seen on a cricket field a first-class professional player the
worse for drink, and I have only on one occasion heard the slightest
whisper against the sobriety of such a man during the progress of a
match. I believe that, as a class, and considering the thirsty nature
of their occupation and the opportunities that offer themselves for
drinking, there is no more sober body of men than cricket professionals.
Having attempted to give a short, and it is hoped impartial,
description of the cricket professional, let us, before resuming the
subject of bowling, return to the assertion that the more cricket gets
into the hands of professional players the worse it will be for the
game and its reputation. At present cricket is perhaps the most popular
of all our national recreations; it is certainly the most popular
_game_, though football has lately made great strides in popular
opinion, and it is rightly considered to be the manliest and the freest
from all mischievous influences. What these latter are, and what a
pernicious and enervating influence they exercise on other branches
of our national sports, is known to everyone. I allude to the betting
and book-making element, which from the earliest days has been the
curse of sport. What is the worst feature about horse-racing? To what
do English lovers of true sport owe the fact that every racecourse is
the rendezvous of the biggest blackguards and knaves in the kingdom?
Is it not betting, and the pecuniary inducement it offers to every
kind of dirty, shabby practice? The sullying influence has spread
to the running-path, and even, if report says true, to the river
and football field. Happily there is never the slightest whisper of
suspicion against the straightness of our cricket players, and this is
entirely owing to the absence of the betting element in connection with
the game. It is an unfortunate fact that the tendency of first-class
cricket nowadays is to swamp the amateur by the professional. Some of
our best county teams are almost wholly composed of the latter class.
The time taken up in big matches is so great, owing to their being
drawn out by a late start and early finish each day, that the amateur
is beginning to realise his inability to give up from his business or
profession so much of this valuable commodity. What has happened in
consequence? Cricket--i.e. first-class cricket--is becoming a regular
monetary speculation. Thousands upon thousands troop almost daily to
see the big matches, flooding the coffers of the county or club, which
does its very best to spin out the match for the sake of the money.
If this continue, our best matches will become nothing better than
gate-money contests, to the detriment of the true interests of the game
and its lovers.
Bowling is as much worthy of the name of an art as any other branch
of sport. The skill, science, and practice which are necessary before
a man can throw a good salmon fly, or before he can reckon on bringing
down a good average of high rocketing pheasants, are equally necessary
for one who wishes to become an adept at bowling. Perhaps bowling
does not require the same oneness of hand and eye as batting, but
it demands, if possible, more practice and experience, and to a far
greater extent the exercise of mental qualities. The object of the
bowler is to outmanœuvre the batsman; he has either to hit the stumps
or draw him into some incautiousness or hesitation of play, which will
result in the ball being caught from the bat or in the batsman being
stumped out by the wicket-keeper. This is a wide field, and suggests at
once that to become proficient a bowler must think--and think deeply
too--not once or twice every few minutes, but before each ball, for
none should ever be delivered without a particular object. Every ball
must be part and parcel of a scheme which the bowler has in his mind
for getting rid of the batsman. The object of every bowler, whether
fast or slow, is always to bowl what is called a ‘good length’--i.e.
to pitch the ball so close to the batsman that he cannot play it on
the ‘bounce,’ or, in cricket parlance, ‘on the long-hop,’ and yet so
far from him that he cannot play it just as it touches the ground
or immediately on the rise--i.e. on the ‘half-volley.’ There can be
no precise measurement of the exact spot on which the ‘good-length’
ball must pitch, as it is constantly varying according to the state
of the ground, the pace of the bowler, and the size and style of the
batsman. When the ground is ‘slow’ and ‘sticky’ from recent rain, the
good-length ball will have to be pitched considerably farther than when
it is ‘hard’ and ‘fast,’ as of course the ball will come faster off
the ground when it is in the latter state than when in the former. The
reason why the bowling of this particular ball is always the object of
every bowler is because it compels the batsman to meet the ball with
the bat by forward play, and because in so doing he often loses sight
of the ball from the moment it touches the ground till it strikes the
bat. No one can be called a good bowler until he has the power at will
of bowling ball after ball of this sort. It often happens when two
batsmen are well set, and every wile and ‘dodge’ of the bowlers has
been tried without avail, that two bowlers will have to go on to bowl,
or try to bowl, nothing else but good-length balls, in the hopes of
keeping down the runs. If this can be done effectually, a batsman is
bound through impatience to make a mistake which in time may cost him
his wicket.
Every ball that leaves the bowler’s hand has, in addition to the
propelling power imparted by the bowler, one of four different motions.
The ball as it travels is either spinning from right to left; or
from left to right; or with a downward vertical motion; or an upward
vertical motion. It is a fact that it is well-nigh an impossibility for
a ball to leave the hand of the veriest beginner without having one of
these four motions to a certain extent imparted to it.
On these four rotary motions depends how much and in what direction
the ball will twist or deviate from its course, and also the speed and
height it will assume after touching the ground. One of the arts of a
bowler is to cheat the batsman by making the ball pitch in one spot
and, after the pitch, suddenly take a different direction; another is
to make the ball rise quicker off the ground than a batsman would be
led to expect from the ordinary rules of reflection. These arts are
accomplished by different movements of the fingers and hand at the
moment of delivering the ball; for the reason why every ball has a
certain amount of spin on it is because the fingers, being in contact
with the ball as it leaves the hand, cause it to rotate (though perhaps
so infinitesimally as not to be noticeable) on its journey to the
ground.
The spin, or rotary motion, from right to left is gained by grasping
the ball chiefly with the thumb and first and second fingers, the
third and fourth fingers being placed together round the other side
of the ball. The moment the ball leaves the hand the latter is turned
quickly over from right to left, and at the same time the first and
second finger and thumb, coming over with the hand, impart a powerful
twist to the ball, which leaves the hand when the latter is turned
palm downwards. There is also at the time of delivery an outward and
upward movement of the elbow which gives the arm the shape of a curve,
or almost a semicircle. The ball goes on its way spinning rapidly from
right to left, and the moment it touches the ground twists very sharply
towards the off side of the batsman. This ball, termed in cricket
parlance the ‘leg-break,’ when well bowled is perhaps one of the most
deadly of all balls, but it is also the most difficult for a bowler to
master. It is always a slow ball, as to bowl it fast with any accuracy
of pitch is an impossibility--at any rate, it may be assumed to be
so, as no bowler has ever yet appeared who could bowl it otherwise
than slow. Palmer, the Australian bowler, was about the fastest ever
known at this ball, but his faster ones were very inaccurate in pitch,
and he could only bowl them, strange to say, very occasionally. The
author, although he has played innings after innings against this
bowler, never remembers receiving a single fast leg-break from him.
The fact of the hand having to turn over from right to left, and of
the ball being delivered underneath the hand, so to speak, causes it
to be extremely difficult to attain accuracy of pitch and direction.
There are many men who can bowl this ball in practice at the nets, but
who never dare attempt it in a match, having no confidence whatever
in their ability to bowl it straight, or even fairly straight. It is
no uncommon occurrence to see this ball, bowled by one who has tried
it in practice, travelling somewhere near to where point is standing.
There are some slow bowlers who have become fairly proficient at it,
and who have enjoyed at various times, and especially against batsmen
they have never met before, a certain amount of success; but it is
a style of bowling which should only be encouraged to the extent of
enabling every bowler to use it occasionally. If nothing but this ball
is bowled over after over, by constant repetition it loses its sting.
The batsman gets wary, and when the ball is pitched on his leg side
gets before his stumps to protect them, and hangs his bat in front of
him, thereby rendering the loss of his wicket extremely improbable;
and when it is pitched straight for the middle stump or on the off
side, knowing the danger of a hit at the pitch of this ball, he will
simply satisfy himself with protecting his stumps with his legs, and
with letting the ball pass the off stump without further protest. The
trap laid for the batsman in this style of bowling is the danger he
incurs by hitting unless he is actually on the pitch of the ball; if
he falls into the snare, the ball is perfectly certain to go up in the
air, and generally in the direction of cover-point or mid-off. This, of
course, is owing to the twist of the ball causing it to hit the side
and not the centre of the bat. Should the batsman in the act of hitting
miss the ball altogether, as is not infrequently the case, he pays the
penalty of being stumped unless he happens to be a fast-footed hitter.
Now, of course, these two traps are well known to every good batsman,
and consequently it is, as a rule, useless to bowl ball after ball of
this nature to him--one might just as well whistle for grouse at the
end of November to come and be shot.
This ball, therefore, should only be bowled at intervals, and when
according to the bowler’s judgment it may have a fair prospect of
success. Usually this happens on two occasions. The first is when
a batsman has just begun his innings, and is playing nervously and
without confidence; a twisting ball then from the leg side is extremely
apt to fluster and annoy him, and a catch in the slips or at point, or
a catch and bowl, is not infrequently the result. The second is when a
hitter is in, and is hitting to all parts of the field. Then the ball
may be bowled with a great chance of success, especially if the man
is anxious and impatient to hit every ball. He is extremely likely to
hit a little short of the pitch, with the above-mentioned result. It
is not a good thing for the bowler to worry the batsman with this ball
if the latter seems not to like it or to play it nervously; it should
at most be used not more than twice in an over. Let the bowler always
remember that too much of one particular ball, even if distasteful to
the batsman, will frighten and steady him, and perhaps in the end teach
him to play it correctly. There are some batsmen, and good batsmen
too, who never seem to be at home to this ball, although they may
have played it scores of times, and I remember once seeing an amusing
incident at a match in which a bowler who had adopted it was playing
sad havoc with the other side. The first three batsmen had all rushed
out to try and hit the leg-break ball, and, failing to do so, paid the
inevitable penalty of being stumped. Their captain was furious at their
rashness, especially as they were all three good players; he explained,
and rightly, that the proper way to play the ball was either by hitting
it on the full volley--i.e. before it touched the ground--or else
remaining inside the crease and playing it quietly. He went in himself,
intending to illustrate this principle, and, lo and behold! was stumped
the very first ball he received. He scraped forward a long way to meet
the ball, missed it, and remained in a most elegant Fuller Pilch-like
attitude, fondly imagining the toe of his boot was inside the crease.
It was, as a matter of fact, a good inch outside it. In that match
there were five stumped each innings off the same bowler, and the
captain was one of them both times. On another occasion a batsman with
rather thin and weedy looking legs kept jumping in front of his stumps
every time this ball was delivered. Finally the ball, discovering the
weak spot in this gentleman’s physical proportions, managed to find
(just above the knees) an opening large enough for it to pass through
and dislodge the bails. Great was his astonishment and disgust, and as
he retired crestfallen to the pavilion he said to the writer, who was
one of the fielding side on that occasion, ‘It was not the ball or the
bowler that did that; it was all owing to my confoundedly skinny legs!’
A dodge well worth trying with this ball is to bowl a good length about
two feet to the leg of the batsman; he is nearly sure to have a hit,
and there is a great chance of the spin on the ball causing it to be a
miss-hit, which may go straight up in the air, for the wicket-keeper,
point, or bowler to secure; even if it is a clean hit to leg it is
nearly bound to be in the air, and long-leg may possibly have a chance.
If this scheme is to be practised it will be generally a good thing for
the bowler to have his long-leg perfectly square, and bring his long
field on round till he is almost in the position of a forward long-leg.
This should be done by quietly waving the hand in such a manner as
to attract the attention of the batsman as little as possible. It is
impossible to lay down any rule for the way in which the fieldsmen
should be placed for this style of bowling, as this depends so much
upon the play of each particular batsman. A long-leg is, however,
nearly always necessary, and very often an extra man out on the leg
side, as mentioned already. Two men out in the field for the average
batsman cannot be dispensed with. The bowler himself, as a rule, will
know how to place his field for each batsman, but on no occasion should
he ever omit to have a short-slip. This is such a very likely place
to get a batsman snapped up that it should never be dispensed with to
any style of bowling, except perhaps to slow under-arm, and not always
then. A slow bowler who intends to use the leg-break, let us say, once
an over, or even once in two overs, and who relies on this ball as most
likely to secure wickets, may on ordinary occasions place his men thus,
but, as we said before, they must be changed to suit the circumstances.
If the ground is hard and fast, as a rule a third man cannot be
dispensed with; but if inclined to be slow, he may be brought forward
to extra cover-point, between cover-point and mid-off, or else put
deep in the field on the on side. The bowler may, however, see that
the batsman is wide enough awake to restrain himself from hitting
blindly at the pitch of this ball when straight or on the off stump;
it will then be advisable to try him entirely on the leg side--a man
may refuse the bait on one side but take it on the other. In these
circumstances extra cover-point, and sometimes even cover-point as
well, may be brought across the wicket and placed for half-hits wide
on the on--i.e. about half the distance from the batsman that a deep
field would stand. If the batsman assumes a poky style of play, it is
often advantageous, both for saving runs and getting wickets, to have
a short-leg a little nearer the stumps than the umpire, and the mid-on
as near to the batsman as he can venture consistently with safety. In
this, as in every other style of bowling, it is a sovereign rule to
make the batsman play to the ball--i.e. to keep it well pitched up, and
compel him either to hit or play forward.
A very novel style of this kind of bowling was seen on English cricket
grounds in the summer of 1884, when the Australian team of that year
included W. H. Cooper, so well known to all our cricketers who have
visited the colonies. He bowled round the wicket, and nearly every ball
almost a wide to leg. There was more spin and twist on the ball than
had ever been seen in this country before (excepting, perhaps, in the
bowling of Mr. Stratford, who played for a year or two for Middlesex,
but who never made his mark in first-class cricket). The ball seemed
to be twisted or screwed out of the side of his hand in the way a
billiard-marker will screw a billiard-ball along the table to a certain
spot, and then bring it back to him. But, unfortunately for him, he was
unable to combine any pace with this tremendous twist. The ball was
extraordinarily slow in the air, but directly it pitched it would spin
off the ground comparatively quickly, twisting into the batsman on the
faster wickets, sometimes as much as a yard or more. All his men except
two were on the on side, and he expected his wickets to be obtained
by the impatience of the batsman causing him to rush out, miss, and
get stumped, or else by wide hitting at the pitch of the ball on the
leg side, where there were seven fielders with seven pretty sure pairs
of hands waiting for it. In Australia he had met with a fair share
of success, especially against some of the English elevens which had
been over there. It was this latter consideration which induced the
Australian authorities to believe that he would be a useful addition to
their team. His bowling was most unsuccessful in this country. Whether
this was due to an accident to his hand on the voyage to England, or
from the light here being not so glaring and bright for our English
eyes as it is in Australia, cannot be said for certain, but I have a
strong opinion from my own experience that the reason of his success in
Melbourne against Englishmen was owing to the dreadful glare on that
ground.
One peculiarity of the leg-twisting ball is that when the ground is
soft and sticky it is comparatively of no avail. The ball then, of
course, twists to a greater extent than when the ground is hard, but it
leaves the pitch so very slowly that the batsman can either wait for
it on the long-hop or hit it on the full or half-volley. The leg-break
ball on a soft ground, if bowled at all, must be bowled faster than on
hard, in order to counteract the deadness of the turf. The best states
of the ground for this bowling, as indeed for most, are when the ground
has been hard and fast, and has since become crumbly and covered with
loose bits of grass and worn turf, and when there has been heavy rain
to saturate the ground which is being rapidly dried and caked by a
hot sun. In the former state the ball takes plenty of twist, and also
leaves the ground very quickly, in addition to sometimes getting up
uncomfortably high for the batsman. In the caked state the ball takes
lots of twist, and puzzles the batsman by the varied and uneven paces
at which it leaves the ground, sometimes coming sharply and high, at
other stopping on the ground and, in batsman’s parlance, ‘getting up
and looking at you.’
SHORT SLIP
●
WICKET KEEPER
╔╦╗
● ║║║
POINT ¯¯¯¯¯ LONG LEG
●
COVER POINT
●
MID ON
●
EXTRA MID OFF
╔╦╗
║║║
¯¯¯¯¯¯¯
● ●
MID OFF BOWLER
●
DEEP MID OFF
●
DEEP MID ON
The leg-break diagram.
These positions of the fieldsmen will suit under-arm bowling, except
that, perhaps extra mid-off may be put out on the on side.
The ‘leg-break’ ball is usually bowled from round the wicket, as
from this side there is more scope for the bowler to make the ball
twist. It is doubtless the best side of the stumps to choose for the
delivery of this ball, but every bowler should remember that it is very
nearly as good as a change of bowling to change from ‘round’ to ‘over’
the wicket, and this is especially so with leg-break balls. The ball
delivered from round the wicket generally leaves the hand a good foot
outside the extremity of the bowling crease; this means that it starts
about 4 feet 4 inches from the middle stump of the bowler’s wicket, and
in its journey through the air, even if pitched in a line with the leg
stump of the batsman’s wicket, it has to make considerable way from
the leg side of the wicket. This, of course, makes the ball go across
the wicket more from the pitch, and, as a rule, means that a leg-stump
leg-break ball round the wicket misses the wicket on the off side. A
batsman, if the ball is pitched off his wicket, may defend it, as the
rule of leg before wicket now stands, with his legs, and consequently
the bowler has not much chance of hitting it. When bowled from over
the wicket the leg-break ball, being delivered in a direct line with
the batsman’s wicket, will naturally, if pitched on the leg-stump or
between the legs and the wicket, not twist so much, thus making it more
likely to hit the wicket if missed by the batsman. There is also a
direct advantage to be gained by bowling over the wicket if the batsman
is inclined to get in front of his stumps, as there is always a better
chance for the bowler to get an appeal for leg before wicket answered
in his favour than when bowling from the other side.
●
SHORT SLIP
●
WICKET KEEPER
╔╦╗
║║║
● ¯¯¯¯¯
POINT ●
LONG LEG
● ●
MID ON HALF HIT
HALF HIT
╔╦╗ ●
║║║ ↑
¯¯¯¯¯ ● |
● BOWLER OR|
MID OFF _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _|
●
●
DEEP MID OFF
●
DEEP MID ON
Position of field if bowling on leg side.
Although, as previously mentioned, there has never been any instance
of the leg-break ball being bowled by a fast bowler, some of the best
bowlers of the past generation of cricketers used to bowl with a
considerable bias from the leg side, and were also of well over medium
pace. Martingell and Silcock were bowlers of this class. This old
style was very effective, and it is greatly to be regretted that it
has almost entirely disappeared from the game at the present day. It
differed from the slow ball that has been discussed only in the amount
of spin; and as there was so much less power expended in spinning or
twisting, the pace of the ball was greatly in excess of that which
can be got on to the slow leg-break. The ball was delivered round the
wicket, at the very extent of the crease, in order to make the angle
from the hand to an imaginary straight line between the two middle
stumps as great as possible. The hand was very little higher than the
hip when the ball was delivered, and instead of the hand and wrist
being completely turned over at the moment of delivery, as in the slow
leg-break, the fingers imparted a right to left spin to the ball.
The ball, coming from a great distance round the wicket and with a
considerable amount of leg spin, would be gradually working away to the
batsman’s off side every inch of its journey, both before and after
pitching. Catches in the slips and on the off side were numerous from
this style of bowling, and it required the batsman’s greatest care and
caution to guard himself against playing inside the balls. It is a
great pity we do not see more of this bowling now.
The next spin or twist on the ball which we will discuss is the rotary
motion from left to right. This, in cricket phraseology, is termed the
‘off’ break, and is far more universal than that from the ‘leg.’ In
fact, so common is it, and so easy to learn, that nearly everyone who
has ever bowled in a match knows more or less how to put this spin on
the ball. It is, of course, always easier to get spin on to a slow ball
than on to a fast one.
[Illustration: The leg-break.]
When the ball to be delivered is a slow one, the fingers and hand
may be twisted into almost any shape, as so little power is required
actually to deliver the ball; all the strength of hand, of wrist, and
of the fingers may be utilised for the purposes of spin alone. When the
ball has to be a fast one, the power necessary to propel the ball at
the required pace prevents so much of the power of fingers, &c., being
expended on spin. A slow ball always takes the spin, after leaving
the ground, to a greater extent than a fast one, because it is longer
on the ground when it pitches, and the spinning has more time to take
effect on the turf.
[Illustration: Likely balls; and what may become of them if not
correctly played.
_a_, a likely one for a wild hitter to get himself out on the off
side; _b_ and _c_, likely for a stump, or, if hit with straight bat,
a catch to deep field-off; _d_ and _e_, likely for ‘catch and bowl;’
_f_, long-leg and half-hit chances--short-slip and wicket-keeper
often get an easy chance off this ball.]
The natural spin on every ball which is bowled is from left to
right--i.e. the off break. Even when a fielder throws in a ball from
a distance it almost invariably has this spin on it. If you watch the
smallest boy in the street throwing a stone, you will find, nine times
out of ten, the stone has acquired this spin. It is then no wonder
that almost every right-handed bowler relies upon this twist as his
principal artifice. The twist depends rather more on the power of the
fingers than on the hand and wrist, as in the ‘leg-break.’ The ball is
usually, by a slow bowler, grasped firmly with all the fingers resting
on the seam, as this gives more purchase and resistance for the fingers
to operate. The latter at the moment of delivery spin the ball, almost
in the same way as they would spin a top, and instead of an upward and
outward motion of the elbow, as in the ‘leg-break,’ there is an inward
motion towards the side of the bowler. The hand is turned over outwards
when the ball is delivered, and, if properly bowled and pitched just
outside the off stump, and under good conditions of ground, the ball,
after the pitch, will change its course abruptly towards the batsman
and the wicket.
Differing from the ‘leg-break,’ this ball can with practice be
accompanied by a great accuracy of pitch--an accuracy which has been
attained almost to perfection by some of our best known bowlers. The
late James Southerton, the famous Surrey bowler, could bowl in this
style for hours with only a very occasional variation from a perfect
‘good length.’ Alfred Shaw, of Nottingham, in his day was perhaps the
greatest exponent of accuracy of pitch combined with the slow ‘off
break,’ or what is generally termed ‘break-back.’ This ball should be
bowled a good length, and generally about two or three inches outside
the off stump.
Of course the amount of twist the ball will take depends on the state
of the ground, and this should at once be apparent to the bowler. The
danger most to be apprehended by the batsman from the off break is that
in playing forward, if not quite on the pitch of the ball, he is very
apt, owing to the twist, to play outside, and allow it to pass between
his bat and right leg to the wicket. It is never a wise thing for the
bowler to use the ‘off break’ every ball, although there are many who
do so. Even if he is devoid of all other artifice, and has no command
over the arts of ‘change of pace,’ ‘flight,’ or the ‘leg-break,’ he
should often vary his style by a ball without any twist at all, and
this should not always be straight. If a batsman has been playing over
after over nothing but good-length ‘off break,’ a ball pitched about
the same spot, two or three inches outside the off stump, and without
any off break at all, will very often be found to go to hand in the
slips, because the batsman is expecting the break and plays inside the
ball.
[Illustration: The off break.]
The fast ‘off break’ is a most deadly ball, and Lockwood, Richardson,
Mold, and Hearne are four bowlers who have a consistent break. A slight
slope in the ground from the off side is always a great advantage to
fast bowlers who try the ‘break-back.’ This comparatively rare ball,
when it does come, is sure to try the very best batsman. Its difficulty
arises from the fact that the ball is of such a pace as to necessitate
quick forward play, when the sudden turn after the pitch causes it to
be missed. For playing ‘off breaks’ of all paces, it is a great and
golden rule for batsmen to remember: _Never allow space between the
bat and the left leg for the ball to pass through_. This rule, which
insures the left leg of the batsman being placed well across the wicket
when playing forward, if followed, will render it almost impossible for
him to be bowled out with an ‘off break.’ It is an astounding fact that
this simple rule, which should be patent to everyone, seems unknown to
all our best batsmen with one or two notable exceptions. W. G. Grace
has always played with his leg up to his bat, thereby preventing the
ball from finding an opening between the two. W. W. Read, of Surrey,
is another who plays thus. We do not express any opinion here as to
the bearing of this rule on the leg-before-wicket question. It is
sufficient for a batsman at present, as the rule now stands, that so
long as the ball does not pitch between the two wickets he cannot be
given out ‘l.b.w.’
[Illustration: ‘Off breaks.’
A, B, C, all good ones; D, if the batsman stands with his legs some
way from the leg stump, this is likely to bowl him off his legs; but
it is a beauty to hit on the on side.]
The two ‘spins,’ from the leg and the off, are the chief and most
important for all practical purposes. If a bowler by constant practice
has acquired the power of twisting the ball from off or leg at will,
and can at the same time bowl a ‘good length,’ he has laid a tolerable
foundation for future success. We say tolerable, because, in bowling,
twist, as we shall see later on, is not everything; it is an essential
element in good bowling, but it is only one of several, all of which
must combine together before anyone can earn the reputation of a
first-class bowler.
The two other spins which can be put on the ball are what have been
called the ‘upward vertical’ and the ‘downward vertical.’ By the
‘upward vertical,’ I mean when the ball spins in its way to the ground
vertically, and upwards with regard to the bowler. It may be compared
to the spin imparted to the billiard ball in the screw stroke. This
is effected by striking the ball low down, which makes it revolve in
its course upwards. The effect this upward revolution has is seen when
the striker’s ball meets the object ball, the former having a decided
inclination to stop and return to the striker. In the same way a
cricket ball, when made to revolve upwards, has a tendency to stop and
go slower off the pitch than it went before it reached the ground.
This twist, as a matter of fact, is never practised; and it is a great
pity that more attention has not been paid to it. Of course it is very
much more difficult to make the ball revolve in this manner than in
either the leg or the off break, but it is quite within the powers of
the possessor of a fairly strong set of fingers. The lower half only
of the ball should be held, so that the upper half protrudes above the
hand and fingers, and at the moment of delivery, which must be from the
level of the shoulder or lower, the fingers and hand must impart as
much upward spin as possible.
The downward vertical spin is the reverse of this, and is caused by
the upper half of the ball being grasped instead of the lower, as in
the upward. This spin imparts to the ball a tendency to come quicker
from the pitch than the pace in the air would seem to suggest, and is
analogous to the ‘following up’ stroke at billiards. The latter is
made by striking the ball at the top, making it revolve downwards and
vertically from the striker. Very many bowlers possess this downward
spin in their bowling without being at all aware of the fact. They
know, as also do those who play against them, that every now and then
one of their balls will, in cricket slang, ‘make haste from the pitch.’
The batsman finds he has mistaken the pace of the ball, which flies
past him before he is anything like ready to play it, and when his
stumps lie prostrate, as often as not he will come back to the pavilion
with the old, old story, ‘Bowled with a shooter;’ whereas, in fact,
the ball has hit the middle or even upper part of his stumps. He has
entirely lost the ball from the pitch owing to his misjudgment of its
pace, and concludes erroneously that it has shot underneath his bat.
We have now considered the four kinds of spin which can be put on to
a cricket ball. Of course there may be combinations of two kinds, as,
for instance, the ball may be spinning from right to left or left to
right, and at the same time be revolving to a certain extent vertically
downwards or upwards; but it would be impossible to discuss the result
of every such combination.
The ball may break from ‘leg,’ and at the same time show by its
acceleration in speed after the pitch that it has been revolving
downwards as well, and the same may happen with the break from the
‘off;’ but such variations are beyond the reach of any practical
discussion.
Let us now turn to another element of good bowling--change of pace.
It does not require any great amount of technical cricket knowledge to
understand that, if a bowler delivers every ball at the same uniform
pace, his bowling is easier for a batsman to judge and play than
when he is continually altering and changing the pace. If a batsman
misjudges the pace of the ball he often loses his wicket. If he plays
too slow for a fast ball, or too fast for a slow one, he generally
makes a fatal mistake. As it is necessary for a shooter to accurately
judge the pace of a driven grouse before pulling the trigger, so is it
equally necessary for a batsman to judge the pace of the ball before
he plays to it. This power of judging pace only comes after long
experience; but when it does exist it seems to be exercised almost
intuitively, and without any conscious thought--indeed there is often
no time for thought.
Perhaps the one thing which made Mr. Spofforth, the famous Australian
bowler, superior at his best to all others, and has earned him the
reputation of being the best bowler that has ever lived, was his
wonderful power of changing the pace of the ball without making it
perceptible to the batsman. In his bowling the same run, action, and
exertion were apparently used for delivering a slow or medium-paced
ball as for a fast one. Many a time, especially on his first arrival in
England, when this bowling was strange to our batsmen, the ball seemed
to dislodge the bails long after the bat had completed the stroke, and
was perhaps high in the air. Change of pace, to be effective, must
not mean change of action; and the first thing a bowler who wishes to
practise this art must understand, is that the slightest variation
in style or action for a slower or faster ball will at once put the
batsman on the _qui vive_ and destroy the effect of the device.
C. T. B. Turner, the Australian bowler, was a great adept at changing
the pace of the ball without sounding any warning note to the batsman.
He is one of the very finest bowlers we have ever seen bowl; he has
great command over the ball, and a beautiful and easy delivery. His
performances in this country have been wonderful; the only defect
in his bowling which, in the writer’s opinion, keeps him from being
considered Spofforth’s equal is that his action is too easy to see. A
good batsman is not so likely to be deceived by him as readily as by
Spofforth’s windmill deliveries.
When a slow or medium-pace bowler wishes to deceive the batsman by
a change of pace, he has, of course, two courses open to him--either
to accelerate the speed of the ball or diminish it. When he wishes
to bowl a faster ball than usual, he must remember that the object
of the experiment is to make the batsman play slower to the ball
than he has been doing, and that this result will be far more easily
accomplished by pitching a good-length--if anything, a little further
than a good-length--ball, than by a short one. If the latter is bowled,
the batsman, although deceived in the pace up to the pitch, has time
to discover his mistake before the ball reaches him, and consequently
has his bat ready in time to stop it. If a ball is, however, pitched a
good length, or a trifle beyond it, and up to the pitch is successful
in deceiving the batsman, he will not have much chance of stopping it
afterwards.
Palmer, another of the famous Australians, sends down the best fast
ball that has been seen from a medium-pace bowler. There is no change
of action to warn the batsman, no longer or faster run, but the ball
comes with lightning rapidity, generally pitched well up, and very
often in the block-hole, making that most deadly ball a ‘fast yorker,’
about which something will be said farther on. The change from slow or
medium-pace bowling to quite slow is much more frequently practised
than the change to fast, and consequently we may presume it is more
easy of accomplishment. There are few slow or medium-pace bowlers who
do not try occasionally to deceive the batsman by making the high slow
ball pitch a little shorter than the rest have been doing. But although
there are many bowlers who endeavour thus to deceive, there are but few
who are really skilful in the art.
It is an extremely difficult thing to reduce the pace on the ball
without altering the action. Mr. Spofforth, the Australian, as we have
observed, excelled in this, as also did Alfred Shaw, of Nottingham,
when at his best. For many years Shaw had the reputation of being the
best slow bowler in England, and justly so. His most deadly device was,
after he had bowled three or four of his ordinary paced ones, to toss
the ball a little higher, a little slower, and a little shorter. Unless
the batsman detected the alteration in speed at the moment of delivery,
he made what was often a fatal mistake. If he hit, the ball would go
high in the air, generally in the direction of deep field-on; if he
played forward, a catch and bowl was the very likely result. If this
ball is bowled without deceiving the batsman, it generally meets with
a very heavy penalty, as, if rightly judged at first, it can generally
be either waited for and hit almost to any part of the field on the
‘long-hop’ or bound, or run down and driven past the bowler; but the
latter feat can only be accomplished by batsmen who are very quick on
their legs.
Some of the best exponents of this ball appear, just prior to
delivery, to greatly exert their bodies, and go through their whole
customary action, while the arm, dragged slower than usual through
the air, delivers the ball when the body is comparatively at rest.
This, no doubt, gives the batsman the idea that the ball is going to
be delivered before it really does leave the bowler’s hand. But it
would be quite beyond the capabilities of the writer to furnish any
intelligible hints as to how to bowl this ball; every bowler will with
practice find this out for himself.
As a rule, good bowlers of the present day bowl with their arms above
the shoulder, and it is a rudiment in the art that the action of
delivery should be as high as possible. The high delivery is certainly
the most successful where the ground is hard, fast, and true, as then
little or no twist can be put on to the ball, and the higher it is
made to bound the more chance there is of the batsman making an uppish
stroke. In addition to this advantage which the high has over the low
delivery, the higher the arm is raised above the shoulder the more
difficult it is for a batsman to judge the pitch and flight of the ball.
With regard to the amount of success that slow and fast bowling meet
with, a great deal depends on the state of the ground, but speaking of
England, and on hard wickets, fast bowlers are having the best of it;
at any rate, Richardson is far the most deadly, while Mold, Hearne,
Davidson, Bland, Cuttell, and Hirst are very successful. In a later
chapter, however, the causes are discussed which seem to show that head
bowlers, bowlers who change their pace and methods, will have to be the
bowlers of the future. But it is also true, as a general rule, that
slow bowling is more difficult to play than fast. The advantages that
it possesses over fast are as follows:--
First.--The slowly delivered ball describes a curved line in the air
both before it pitches and afterwards to the bat; and balls coming in a
curved line are far more difficult to play accurately than those which
come quick and straight from the pitch. If the batsman properly judged
the fast ball, by simply putting his bat straight forward he would
always meet and stop it. It is not quite so with the slower ball. The
ball, coming on to the ground in a curve, will leave it in a curve, and
may consequently go over the shoulder of the bat. Besides, the quicker
the ball is, the shorter time the batsman has to play it; his mode of
playing must be decided on instantaneously, so he has no time to get
into two minds on the subject.
[Illustration: _SLOW BALL_]
[Illustration: _FAST BALL_]
Secondly.--In slow bowling there is always more actual hitting than
in fast, and the more hitting the greater chance there is of the ball
going up in the air. Fast bowling may perhaps be driven more--that
is to say, it may be pushed hard by good forward play in front of
the wicket in all directions; but it is not often with this style of
bowling that the bat is lifted high in the air, and the shoulders,
arms, and whole body combine together for a big hit or ‘slog,’ as it
is sometimes called, whereas slows often tempt the best of batsmen to
hit without quite getting on to the pitch of the ball, the consequence
being that the ball goes up in the air somewhere.
It is a very common occurrence to see a slow bowler who is bowling
really well, and with tolerable success, taken off at once on the
advent of some batsman who has earned a reputation for big hitting.
He himself may be nervous about the fearful smashing the batsman may
give him, and suggest to his captain to put on some fast bowler in
his place, or else the captain may make the change himself. What is
the usual result? The fast bowler compels the hitter to play a steady
game, and then, when the latter has just got his eye well set and fit
for hitting, on go the slows again, with the probable result of being
utterly knocked to pieces in a few overs. If the slows had been allowed
a chance at first, when the batsman’s eye had not got settled down to
the light, and he himself was still suffering from the nervousness
inevitable to every man on first going in, what a different tale might
have been told! It is always the best thing to put on slows to a big
hitter when he first comes in. His anxiety to begin to hit at once is
fostered by the slow, easy-looking balls that give him such time to
lift his bat and put his whole strength into the stroke; this anxiety
is often helped, too, by his nervousness, which in many instances
produces a tendency to hit.
On a certain occasion one of the biggest hitters our cricket grounds
have ever seen made about eighty runs without having a single slow ball
bowled to him. The captain at last put on a slow bowler out of sheer
desperation. As the slow bowler walked up to the wicket to bowl, the
big hitter turned to him and said, ‘What, are _you_ going to bowl your
donkey-drops? I’ll hit them all out of the ground.’ ‘If you _keep on_
doing it I shall have to go off,’ was the modest reply. The third ball
of the over there was a terrific slog; the bat fairly whistled with the
speed it went through the air, and the ball, touching the shoulder,
landed in short-slip’s hands.
There are only two exceptions to the golden rule to put on slows when
a hitter first comes in: the first is when there is something peculiar
connected with the condition of the ground which is making a fast
bowler at that particular time especially deadly; and the second, when
the condition of the game renders it imperatively necessary to keep
down the runs at all costs. In the latter case a slow bowler may prove
too expensive, as even the miss-hits of a strong hitter are apt to go
to the boundary.
Thirdly (to resume the consideration of the advantages of slow bowling,
interrupted by the anecdote and the statement of the rule and its
exceptions).--Slow bowling offers more opportunity to the wicket-keeper
for stumping than fast. It is so tempting for a batsman to rush in and
drive the slow tossed-up ball that often he chooses the wrong one,
misses it, and is left standing still a yard or two out of his ground.
Chances to the wicket-keeper are also much easier off slows than fast,
and consequently a great many more wickets are taken.
Fourthly.--The very slowness of the ball induces liberties of all sorts
to be taken, besides that of hitting mentioned above. The batsman,
when his eye is well in, often tries to score by placing balls to
a particular spot, which their pitch does not justify. A favourite
error that even the best batsmen fall into is that of trying to hit
the leg-stump half-volleys too much to the on side, and sometimes
absolutely to leg, a stroke which would never enter his head were a
fast bowler bowling.
Fifthly.--A slow bowler has much greater command of pitch, pace, and
spin than a fast one. The power which is expended by the latter on
the pace of the ball is available by the former for these more subtle
devices. There is consequently a much wider field for experiment open
to the slow bowler. Usually a fast bowler bowls away ball after ball
in the hopes of breaking down the batsman’s defence by a good-length
ball or a ‘yorker;’ if he fails to do this he retires in favour of the
next change. A slow bowler has many devices, of which actually bowling
the batsman out is perhaps very seldom resorted to. He should be able
to pitch the ball within a few inches of the spot he wishes, and thus,
when he has ascertained any particular weakness the batsman seems to
possess, he is able to take advantage of it. There are very few batsmen
who have not certain favourite strokes; some may have a partiality for
cutting, others for playing on the on side for ones and twos, others
for off driving; but whatever the particular _penchant_ may be, a slow
bowler’s business is to make himself acquainted with it and then take
the greatest possible advantage of it. Suppose a batsman shows by his
play that he is always on the look-out for a cut, and even goes so far
as to cut balls which should be driven or played forward to, on the
off side, a slow bowler by his command of pitch and pace may do much
execution. A ball pitched a trifle further up than usual on the off
side and a trifle faster may, and often does, induce the batsman to
try his favourite stroke, at the imminent peril of placing the ball in
the hands of point or third man, or of being caught at the wicket. A
slower and higher ball than usual pitched on the leg-stump will often
induce a batsman to try a favourite ‘on side’ stroke, at the risk of
playing with a cross bat and being bowled or out leg before wicket. In
fact, every fault that it is possible for a batsman to possess may be
taken advantage of by a slow bowler to a much greater extent than by
one of great pace. How often one sees a batsman who has given great
trouble dismissed by a slow bowler who seems to have absolutely no
merit whatever! The ball is tossed high in the air with apparently no
spin of any sort, and so slow as hardly to reach the wicket, and yet
the well-set batsman falls a prey to his over-anxiety to play the ball
where the pitch of it does not warrant.
Sixthly.--A slow bowler has the advantage over a fast one of having
what is equivalent to an extra man in the field, viz. himself. After
the ball is bowled he is firm on his legs, ready to run in for a catch
and bowl, or to dart to the on or the off side as the batsman shapes to
play the ball. No matter how hard the ball is returned from the bat, he
has always ample time to get down with the right hand or the left or to
jump high in the air; when the batsmen are running he is always able to
get behind his wickets ready to receive the ball when returned by the
fielder, a golden rule for every bowler which is too often neglected.
A fast bowler is generally unsteady on his legs after the ball is
delivered; the pace with which he runs up to the wicket carries him
on a few paces after the delivery, and he is thus generally unable to
exhibit the same activity and sharpness in fielding his own bowling as
a slow bowler does. In days gone by, when grounds were bad and rough,
slow bowling was not so successful as fast, but the general improvement
in the ground has altered this.
[Illustration: A hot return.]
And now, having seen some of the advantages slow bowling possesses
over fast, and before discussing the latter’s merits, let us see on
what principles a slow bowler should endeavour to bowl, and what
rules he should follow in order to attain success. Whilst speaking of
slow bowling we shall refer to any pace under that of medium, as the
rules and principles of medium are included in what is said on fast
bowling. Perhaps the most important thing that every bowler, whether
fast, medium, or slow, should realise is, as we have said before,
to keep the ball well pitched up when a batsman first comes in. The
importance of this rule is manifest, as a short-pitched ball requires
no play, whereas one pitched a good length, or even farther, requires
steadiness and accuracy of eye to play; because there is a moment after
its pitch when it is lost to the vision, and consequently if the eye
lacks accuracy the ball will be missed or bungled. An old professional
cricketer, one who has made his mark in times gone by both with bat
and ball, once observed to the author, ‘Anything rather than straight
long-hops, sir, when a man first comes in; wides and full-pitches are
better,’ and he was right; straight long-hops, which, alas! many of
our professional bowlers bowl only too often, in order to prevent runs
being made off them, do more to get in the eyes of batsmen than any
other sort of ball. Often and often one sees a bowler, and perhaps
one who has the name of being first-class, send down to a new batsman
straight long-hops one after the other--balls which it is impossible,
or nearly so, to score off, and then at the end of each over walk to
his place with a thoroughly satisfied air, as if adding one more maiden
over to his analysis had really helped his side on to the ultimate goal
of victory. It is always better for a bowler to see a fresh batsman
make half a dozen runs from well-pitched balls or half-volleys his
first over than to see him stop four straight long-hops.
On the fall of a wicket the bowler should always remember that the
new batsman is entirely unaccustomed to the light and not yet warm
to his work, and that consequently the pet devices which may have
been clearly seen through and mercilessly punished by the retiring
batsman are for the present quite fresh for the new one. He should
consequently begin by doing all he can to get rid of him at once
before he gets ‘set.’ He should in the first two or three overs try
every effective ball he knows--and certainly in the first over he
should try a ‘yorker.’ This ball, called in days gone by a ‘tice,’ an
abbreviation of ‘entice,’ is certainly one of the most deadly balls
that can be bowled, if not absolutely the most deadly. We believe
that, if statistics could be kept of how every wicket fell during the
course of a season, more would be found victims to the ‘yorker’ than
to any other ball. We can find no derivation for the word ‘yorker,’
but are told that it came from the Yorkshiremen, who were fonder of
bowling this ball than any other. A story is told of a famous old
Yorkshire professional who, on being asked whether he knew why this
ball was called a ‘yorker,’ replied, ‘Of course I do.’ ‘Well?’ said
his questioner. ‘Why, what else could you call it?’ was the answer,
with a puzzled look and a scratch on the top of his head. The ordinary
definition of a ‘yorker’ is a ball that pitches inside the crease,
and this, no doubt, is correct so far as it goes, but it does not
go far enough. It really should be, any ball that pitches directly
underneath the bat. It is quite possible for a man to be bowled out
with a ‘yorker’ when he is two or three yards out of his ground, if he
misjudges the ball, and allows it to pitch directly beneath his bat,
although the ball pitches as far from the crease as he is standing. The
most deadly sort of ‘yorker,’ however, is the one that pitches about
three or four inches inside the crease. One mistake which the batsman
makes with this ball is that he imagines it is going to pitch shorter
for a half-volley, and gets ready to hit, when he finds the ball coming
farther than he expected, and is then too late to stop it. Another
grave error which many batsmen fall into is that of lifting their bats
up, after judging the pace and pitch of the ‘yorker,’ intending to come
down on it as it touches the ground, which really is at the very last
moment. It seems an easy thing to stop a ‘yorker’ in this way, but it
really requires the greatest nicety in timing, and a moment late means
that the ball has passed and the stumps are down. Whenever a batsman
is playing ‘yorkers’ by chopping down on them inside his crease, it
is as certain as can be that he is not at all at home with them, and
the bowler may hope for success with every one he tries. Even if the
bat does come down on a ‘yorker’ in the crease at the last moment, it
often dribbles on with the spin, and just dislodges the bails. The
only proper, workmanlike way to deal with ‘yorkers’ is to play them
forward. The bat should be thrust forward directly the ball is seen to
be right up to the batsman, and then it cannot fail to be stopped. One
great peculiarity of ‘yorkers’ is that it is impossible to bowl such a
ball to some batsmen. W. G. Grace hardly ever gets one; directly the
ball leaves the bowler’s hand he sees its destination, viz. an inch
inside the crease; he puts the bat out to meet the ball, and makes it
one of the easiest possible, viz. a full-pitch. If there were no such
thing as misjudgment on the part of a batsman, there would be no such
thing as a ‘yorker.’ It depends for its very existence on being taken
for something else. If every batsman were perfectly accurate in his
sight and judgment of pitch, every so-called ‘yorker’ would be neither
more nor less than a ‘full-pitch.’ However, as every batsman, we are
thankful to say, is liable to err in judging the pitch, and as nearly
every batsman when first going in is more liable to err with a ‘yorker’
than any other ball, the bowler should most decidedly try it. A slow
bowler should first try a medium-paced ‘yorker,’ somewhat faster than
his usual pace, and then a slower one. It is astonishing how many
wickets fall to slow ‘yorkers;’ the ball is mistaken for everything but
what it really is, viz. a full-pitch--for every ball pitching inside
the crease must be playable as a full-pitch.
When a bowler is put on to bowl by his captain, it is his duty to do
everything in his power to dislodge the batsman. It is really quite a
secondary consideration for him whether many or few runs are being made
off his bowling. It is the duty of the captain to tell the bowler when
he wants the pace in the run-getting to be diminished, and then, and
not till then, must the bowler begin to bowl straight and short with
that object. But until certain instructions are given, the bowler must
never stop for an instant in his endeavour to get the batsman’s wicket.
If he has experimented with every one of his arts and is unsuccessful,
or even if he becomes too expensive in run-getting before he has done
this, the captain’s duty is to take him off.
It is a common sight enough to see a bowler put on in a match who
simply dare not try the experiments which he has practised with
success, for fear of being hit for a four or two and taken off. He is
quite content to see ball after ball played full in the middle of the
bat straight back to him, knowing well that with such bowling he has
not the remotest chance of getting a wicket. In the hopes of getting
a wicket a slow bowler should often try leg half-volleys; they are,
of course, delightful balls for a batsman to hit, but, at the present
day, when the old George Parr leg hit is comparatively unknown--viz. to
fine long-leg all along the ground well behind the wicket--and the leg
hitting off slows is generally high and square, they often result in a
long-leg catch, and sometimes one at the wicket, through the batsman
hitting too quick at the ball. A bowler who has been sending down ball
after ball with the off break on should often try pitching one on the
same spot but without the break; the batsman is very apt to play inside
this ball, and place it in short-slip’s hands. In addition to the
change of pace which we have above commented on, it is a most excellent
thing occasionally to lower and heighten the action. Alfred Shaw used
continually, by lowering his action, to send in a ball which skimmed,
so to speak, from the pitch at a great pace, and much faster than his
ordinary balls. The raising of the arm higher than usual makes the ball
bound higher, which is very often an advantage, especially on rough
cut-up grounds. The good-length ball outside the off stump, pitched
perhaps eight inches to a foot wide of it, and without any break on
at all, is often a most telling ball, especially to eager, excitable
batsmen. The ball, not being straight, cannot be met with the full face
of the bat, and consequently, unless the batsman puts his left leg
right across the wicket, he must, in playing it, lift it up in the air,
when it is probably captured by cover-point or mid-off. If this ball
can be made to go ever so little from the leg side after it has pitched
it becomes more deadly, as then there is a much greater chance of the
batsman being unable to get over the ball sufficiently to keep it along
the ground.
There has grown up in late years a most deplorable practice amongst
batsmen of leaving balls on the off side alone, for fear of risking
their wickets. In every match, big and little, one may see batsmen jump
in front of their wickets time after time to off balls, allowing the
ball to go by unplayed at, or if it twists to hit their legs. We call
this a most deplorable practice, because it is not real cricket. The
true object of the batsman is to defend his wicket with his bat; let
him use his legs as well if he likes, but his bat he should certainly
use, and when he holds the bat high in the air and guards his wicket
with his legs, and legs alone, in our opinion he goes beyond the limit
of legitimate batting. A batsman is perfectly right in refusing to hit
or play at wide balls on the off side, but when he remains passive to
balls a few inches only outside the off stump, he not only acknowledges
his want of confidence in himself, but also degrades the dignity of
a cricket bat by substituting in its place his own usually nervous
legs. We remember seeing, some years back, a batsman who had completed
his hundred refusing, on a perfectly good wicket, to play ball after
ball on the off side. The famous old bowler David Buchanan was bowling
at one end, and could not understand how some of his most lovely
half-volleys were allowed to pass by unlooked at and despised. The
batsman, however, was thoroughly well roasted by his own side and the
other for his tame play; and it was satisfactory afterwards to learn
that he had given up his weakness for seeing long-hops and half-volleys
pass on the off without being first heavily taxed for the good of his
side. It is rather a difficult thing for a slow bowler to know what to
do when he has to bowl to a batsman of this sort. He might, of course,
go on bowling on the off side, and try to tire the batsman out and
make him play; but this, in these present days of good wickets and
lengthy matches, would take far too long. The best course for a bowler
to take is continually to alter his pace, and endeavour by pitching a
ball sharper from the pitch and quicker than usual on the off stump to
get the batsman out leg before wicket. Just the very slightest degree
outside the off stump is also a good place for this class of player; he
gets undecided whether to adopt his mawkish style of play or not, and
in his indecision is apt to make mistakes.
A favourite scheme for a slow bowler to get rid of a batsman is by
bowling him off his legs. This is always more easy of accomplishment
when the batsman’s legs stand some distance from the leg-stump and his
bat. When this is going to be tried an extra man should be put out on
the on side between long-leg and deep field-on, as the ball which is to
be bowled will, if hit by the batsman, generally go in that direction.
If the bowler can dispense with a long-leg, it is advantageous to have
a short-leg, perhaps a yard or two in front of the umpire, and also a
mid-wicket on as near to the batsman as he can with safety venture. The
ball should then be bowled with as much off break and as good a length
as possible, in a line with the leg-stump; if played at and missed on
account of the twist it hits the legs, and so cannons into the wicket.
If it is met with the bat there is always a chance of the twist taking
it into the hands of short-leg or mid-on. The place on which the ball
pitches must depend on the state of the ground and the amount of twist
that can be put on to the ball.
Spofforth, the Australian, was a bowler who used this ball very
successfully, as indeed he did most others. When he had the ground
in a suitable state--i.e. when it was sticky or else crumbled and
loose--he used to place a short-leg close in to the batsman about two
yards behind the wicket; he would also have another short-leg or mid-on
close in to the batsman and fairly straight. He would then bowl about
medium pace, pitching ball after ball a good length on the leg-stump,
and with as much off break as he could get on, which, of course, would
vary with the state of the ground. The result of this manœuvre was
to make the batsman’s chance of remaining at the wickets for long
extremely doubtful. The pace (medium) would compel him to play forward
to all good-length balls; the break-back and abrupt rise or kick then
made it very probable that he would either place the ball in the hands
of one of the expectant short-legs or else be bowled off his bat or
legs. The author recollects on one occasion having to play against the
redoubtable Spofforth under the above circumstances. After receiving a
few balls he came to the conclusion that it was absolutely impossible
to prevent being captured by one of the short-legs, who were both
standing ridiculously close, and every ball was rising uncomfortably
high. He determined to take the liberty of pulling, and did so once
or twice with success, till he paid the usual penalty of the practice
on a kicking wicket by being badly cut over. He then tried jumping in
front of his wicket and trying to slide the breaking balls off his bat
to very fine long-leg. Spofforth, however, was too much for him, and
almost immediately bowled a straight middle stump ball without any
break on it and rather faster than the others; it kept low, hit the
shin, and there was as dead a case of ‘l.b.w.’ as any bowler could wish
for.
A favourite trick of some slow bowlers is to bowl from different
distances. Sometimes the bowler will have one leg behind the wickets
and the other in front, and sometimes both behind; we have even seen
some bowl occasionally with the front leg as much as two yards behind
the wicket. The object of this is to deceive the batsman as to the
pitch of the ball by changing the distance the ball has to travel.
This is doubtless an excellent theory, but in our opinion it is not
of much worth in actual practice. We have seen bowlers of all sorts
repeatedly try this experiment, but in our experience it never meets
with any appreciable success. This is perhaps owing to the fact that
the batsman can always see very clearly when the bowler does not come
up the whole way to the wicket, and is accordingly on the alert for a
shorter pitched ball than usual. The only practiser of this trick who
ever seems to turn it to good account is Tom Emmett, the left-handed
Yorkshire veteran; he usually bowls his slow wides from some distance
behind the crease, and certainly obtains a fair share of wickets with
these balls; but even in his case we think that it is generally not so
much the difference in the distance that the ball has to travel which
causes disaster to the batsman, as the latter’s anxiety and impatience
to score from slow wide off balls, which look so easy and are really
so deadly. However, though our opinion of this bowler’s ‘dodge’ is
not particularly high, we still think it is worthy of trial at times
by every slow bowler. A slow bowler should try every wile that can
possibly be attempted; by adopting slow bowling he has undertaken to
use the ‘wisdom of the serpent’ in the guise of the ‘harmlessness of
the dove,’ and has sacrificed pace to cunning and thought. No slow
bowler is worth his salt who merely tosses the ball into the air and
trusts to chance for success, even if it has a little spin on it; he
must continually think and diagnose every particular case which comes
before him, and then adopt the measures necessary for each one. With
this object it is the duty of every slow bowler to take advantage of
any local peculiarity which the size and situation of the ground may
afford. He should almost always have the choice of ends, except on
occasions when the captain of the side considers that for some reason
his fast bowler is more likely to get rid of the batting side for a
small score than the slow, and then, of course, the fast must have the
choice.
For example, in the University matches from 1878 to 1881, Oxford was
so overmatched by Cambridge that in each of these years before the play
began it was considered by the outside public as a foregone conclusion
for the latter. The really knowing ones, however, who thoroughly
understood the game, were aware that there was one man on the Oxford
side who might any day get rid of the best side in England for a very
small score. That man was Mr. Evans, the famous fast bowler. He was the
only man on the side who, humanly speaking, seemed capable of turning
the chances of the game. He consequently chose his own particular
end--the one he thought most suited to his style, quite irrespective of
any mediocre slow bowler that was on his side; and the havoc he played
amongst the Cambridge wickets for those four years may be seen from the
old scores. It is, however, an exception when a side depends almost
entirely on its fast bowling, and it is only when this exception arises
that a slow bowler (assuming him to be one who is competent to judge)
must not have his choice of ends. Of course we mean his choice of ends
at the commencement of an innings, as after that it is the captain’s
duty to put any bowler on at either end, and it is the duty of every
bowler to obey his captain cheerfully.
As already remarked, every slow bowler should take advantage of every
local peculiarity that may offer itself. For instance, there may be a
ground where a high tree is behind one of the wickets; the slow bowler,
if he thinks this tree will help him at all, should take his measures
accordingly. We hope none will think we are advocating anything at
all unfair in the game, or anything that is even on the line between
fairness and ‘not quite straight.’ As a rifle-shooter takes advantage
of a lull in the wind to pull his trigger, as a deerstalker of every
rock and unevenness of ground to approach his game--in short, just
as in every kind of sport natural facilities may be utilised--so in
bowling every peculiarity of time and place should be enlisted on the
side of the bowler in his (in these days of good wickets and good
batting) by no means easy task of getting rid of the batsman. If a
bowler, who, we will say, usually bowls over the wicket, perceive that
by bowling round the wicket he may make his bowling more difficult to
see, and consequently more effective, on account of a tree, house, or
hedge that is directly behind that side of the wicket, he should most
certainly change and make the most of that advantage. An injudicious
and talkative batsman often materially assists a bowler by such remarks
as, ‘I can’t see your bowling a little bit. When tossed high in the air
that beastly tree is right behind;’ or, ‘When you bowl over the wicket
the ball gets right in a line with the dark windows of the pavilion,
and I can’t see it at all.’ Can anyone imagine for a moment that a
bowler will not do his very best instantly to make the most of the dark
branches of the tree or the windows of the pavilion? The sun, too,
often materially assists a slow bowler, especially during the last hour
or hour and a half of the day’s play. If there are any trees round the
ground, the shadows, beginning to lengthen, will often lie right across
the pitch, and if there is one anywhere near where a good-length ball
should pitch, it is advisable to try pitching one occasionally on it.
If the sun is behind the bowler’s wicket and getting a little low, the
bowler should try by bowling high slow ones to get it in the line of
the batsman’s vision. Every possible advantage within the limits and
spirit of fair play may be considered legitimate for a bowler. Local
advantages of ground and weather are certainly within these limits, but
any peculiarity of dress or tricks of manner, which are in themselves
calculated to baulk or annoy a batsman, are not.
For example, bowling with a long loose and flapping sleeve in order
to distract the batsman’s attention from the ball, a habit which of
late has been seen on our English grounds, is in itself intrinsically
unfair and unworthy of any true cricketer. And again, waving the arms
behind the ball after it has been delivered, or any other trick adopted
in order to worry or harass the batsman, is manifestly unfair. Some
batsmen are extremely fastidious, and are distracted by the merest
trifle. The writer remembers on one occasion taking part in a match
when a batsman objected to a bowler on the ground that he was wearing
a stud made of some bright material or stone, which glistened so in
the sun that it diverted his attention from the ball. This, of course,
sounded absurd, but the bowler at once removed the glittering nuisance,
and rightly too.
A slow bowler must bear in mind what has before been mentioned, viz.
that it is often almost as good as a change of bowling to change
from over to round the wicket, or _vice versâ_, quite apart from
the advantage he may gain from any local obstruction to good light.
Supposing a slow bowler has been ‘on’ for some time over the wicket, as
a rule the great majority of his balls have been pitched a few inches
outside the off stump and breaking in to the middle or middle and leg.
The batsman has got thoroughly into the way of playing this particular
ball, and does not show any signs of making a mistake. The bowler goes
round the wicket, and although he still continues to pitch a little
outside the off stump, the ball is quite different now from what it
was from over the wicket. It is, of course, impossible to get as much
‘break-back’ spin on to the ball when bowling round as over the wicket,
because the ball is delivered several feet from a straight line between
the two wickets, but in most conditions of the ground it is possible
to get a certain amount on. The change in the direction of the ball,
or rather in the spot from which it is delivered, combined with the
diminution in the amount of break, makes it often a most effective
change and one well worth the trial. In addition there is always from
round the wicket the chance of a batsman playing inside a ball which,
delivered without any spin at all, keeps going across the wicket, as it
is technically called, ‘with the arm.’
[Illustration: A pokey batsman dealing with a high-dropping full-pitch.]
We cannot omit, when enumerating the different balls of which a slow
bowler may avail himself, one which is by no means used as often as
it should be, viz. the full-pitch. In slow bowling there are three
different kinds of full-pitches--the high-dropping full-pitch, which
will pitch either on the top of the wicket or a few inches before it;
the ordinary slow full-pitch, which reaches the batsman about the
height of his knees; and the medium-paced full-pitch, which will hit
the stumps nearly at the top. The high-dropping full-pitch is a ball
that is seldom used, the reason for its rarity probably being the
extreme difficulty of bowling it accurately and the certain punishment
it will meet with if it falls at all short either in height or length
of what it should be. It should be delivered as high as possible; there
is no limit to the height this ball may go in the air, as the higher
it ascends the more difficult it is to play. It should be bowled so
that it reaches its highest point when it is almost directly over the
head of the batsman, and should pitch on the very top of the stumps.
It is strange that this ball is not more often practised by slow
bowlers, as, especially to the pokey, nervous style of batsmen, it is
fraught with considerable uneasiness and requires some skill to play
properly. To really first-class punishing batsmen it is a ball which
has comparatively no terrors, and on which not much reliance can be
placed, though it should always, in our opinion, be tried at least once
to every batsman who is getting ‘well set.’ But to the poker, the man
who refuses to do anything but stick his bat in front of the wicket,
who lets half-volleys, full-pitches, and long-hops pass unscathed and
unplayed on both sides of him--to him who considers he is doing his
side good service by wasting three hours of valuable time for a dozen
runs on his side of the balance, and three hours’ wear and tear of the
wicket on the other--to him who helps so greatly to fill up the records
of drawn matches, the high-dropping full-pitch is an excellent ball. He
does not know what to do with it; he is afraid to step back to play it
for fear of hitting his wicket, and he hardly likes to be so bold as to
try to cut or hit it on the on side. One of the most amusing sights we
have ever seen at cricket was one of these batsmen having ball after
ball of this sort bowled to him; it was not till after he had nearly
lost his wicket a dozen times, only keeping it by exceptional good
luck, and had afforded the greatest merriment to players and spectators
alike, that he burst out from sheer desperation into wild and furious
hitting--a line of conduct which had the immediate effect of compelling
the bowler to desist from his lofty attacks.
The second kind of full-pitch--the one reaching the batsman about the
height of his knees--is the most usual of full-pitches, and enjoys the
distinction of being considered the easiest of all balls to hit. A
good batsman can hit this ball from a slow bowler to almost any part
of the field; consequently, though it often happens in the chapter of
accidents that a wicket falls to this ball--a catch in the country
perhaps, or a hard catch and bowl--it is of all balls the very worst
for a slow bowler to deliver, except perhaps a long hop.