BATTING
By P. F. WARNER
It has been said that good batsmen are born and not made, but my
experience is rather to the contrary. There are certain gifts of eye
and hand which all really good batsmen must possess, but I am strongly
convinced that early practice and good coaching have a very great
deal to do in the acquiring of all-round skill. A. E. Stoddart, whose
retirement from first-class cricket has proved such a loss, not only to
Middlesex, but to English cricket, is the only batsman who has attained
to the first rank who did not start to play the game quite early in
life, and he is the exception that proves the rule.
Any success I may have had as a batsman I attribute to my devotion to
the game from my youngest days. Early rising in the West Indies is the
custom, but so enthusiastic about cricket was I that I often got up
at half-past five, so as to practise to the bowling of a black boy on
a marble-paved gallery which provided the fastest and truest wicket
I have ever played on. Even now I am ashamed to recall the number of
broken window-panes I was responsible for, and many was the time that
my black hero and I have taken to our heels, to be speedily followed
by an irate nurse, who never failed to report the damage I had done
to headquarters. But despite many a scolding, and prophecies that I
should come to a bad end, I persevered in my wrong-doing, and to that
perfect marble wicket and a good coach I owe the fact that I was seldom
guilty of running away to square leg, a fault so common among boys.
Therefore the first essential is a thoroughly good wicket to practise
on, and a good wicket is not a difficult thing to obtain nowadays, what
with the improved condition of grounds all over the country. And let
me urge on every young cricketer the absolute necessity of practising
in earnest from the very beginning. Endeavour to play at a net exactly
as you would in a match, and if you are bowled out, try to feel almost
as disappointed as if a similar fate had befallen you in a game. Pay
attention to details, and if you make a bad stroke, notice where your
mistake lay, remember it, and take the lesson to heart. But practise,
practise, practise, and, if you are a keen cricketer, batting at the
net may be made almost as enjoyable as batting in a match. Well, then,
practise in earnest from the start of your career, and if possible
get some keen and intelligent cricketer—not necessarily a great
one—to coach you, but one with infinite patience and tact, who will
occasionally give a word of encouragement, for an encouraging word and
look do a greater amount of good than is generally imagined.
Having got a good wicket and a capable coach, see that a suitable
bat is in your hand, and I strongly advise every boy to play with a
bat suited to his strength and style; and here I may mention that
it is a thousand times better to play with too light a bat than too
heavy a one, for with too heavy a bat one cannot cut or time the ball
correctly; besides, it is hardly possible to play straight with it,
and a straight bat is the very essential of good sound batting. Giving
the young cricketer a good driving and well-balanced bat, see that
he puts on two pads, and at any rate one, if not two batting gloves.
Thus equipped, he will be ready to take his place at the wicket, and
the first thing our imaginary coach will have to teach him will be
his POSITION AT THE WICKET. No fixed rules can be laid down as to the
position a batsman should take up at the wicket, but undoubtedly the
best advice that can be given is to take up the position most natural
to him. The most popular way of standing is to place the right foot
just inside the popping-crease, with the left just outside it, pointing
towards the bowler or mid-off; but no two players stand exactly alike,
and as I have said before, the most natural position is the best.
There used to be a difference of opinion as to whether a batsman should
stand with his weight equally balanced on both legs, or on the right
leg only, but nowadays the universally accepted theory is that the
weight should be chiefly on the right leg. At any rate, W. G. Grace, K.
S. Ranjitsinhji, C. B. Fry, and A. C. Maclaren are all of that opinion,
and they certainly ought to know. L. C. H. Palairet’s method of
standing at the wicket is generally supposed to be the model attitude,
and another cricketer whose position might well be studied is R. E.
Foster, who, like Palairet, stands straight, but with a slight easing
of the knees, which helps him to get a quick start at the ball. Both
these cricketers stand as near as possible to their bats, without being
leg before wicket, and I am a strong believer in this, for the reason
that the nearer one is to the bat the more chance is there of playing
absolutely straight and getting well over the ball. I am quite aware
that there are one or two first-class batsmen who do not play with a
straight bat, but they are men of wonderful eyesight, and their success
has not altered my conviction that a boy should be taught to play with
a straight bat.
As for taking guard, it does not matter whether you take middle, middle
and leg, or leg stump. I have taken all three in a season. It is a mere
question of inclination.
The bat should be held, I venture to think, in the manner most natural
to the batsman, but the most common method is with the left hand
nearly at the top of the handle, and the right hand somewhere about the
middle; but there is no golden rule on the subject, and G. L. Jessop,
for instance, holds the bat with his right hand at the very bottom of
the handle. But Jessop is a genius, and his method should certainly
not be copied by the young cricketer, unless the style of play Jessop
adopts comes quite natural to him; then by all means he should be
allowed to cultivate it. I rather believe myself in holding the bat as
high up the handle with the right hand as possible—that is to say,
about an inch or an inch and a half interval between the two hands.
This is the manner in which L. C. H. Palairet holds his bat, and I have
always regarded and always shall regard him as the model for young
cricketers to copy.
The first principle the coach has to instil into our young batsman is
that he _must never move his right leg backwards_ in the direction of
short leg. He may move it to jump out to drive or to cut or to play
back, but _never should he move it away from the wicket_.
This is the first point to be mastered by the beginner, for if the
right leg is withdrawn away from the wicket, it is impossible to play
with a straight bat, which, as I have said before, is the very essence
of good batting. If a young batsman cannot refrain from running away,
he should have his right leg pegged down.
[Illustration:
_From a Drawing by_ _G. F. Watts, R.A._
_BLOCK OR PLAY._]
[Illustration:
_From a Drawing by_ _G. F. Watts, R.A._
_FORWARD PLAY._]
The second principle to be inculcated is that _a_ _straight bat is
essential to success in batting_, though I do not mean to say that the
bat should be held straight for every stroke, for the cut and the pull,
for instance, are not made with a straight bat; but what I mean is that
for defensive strokes, and in some scoring strokes, the bat must be
held straight. A batsman who plays with an absolutely straight bat is
nearly always a strong defensive player.
The third maxim is, _watch the ball_. Watch the bowler’s arm as he runs
up to bowl, and then the ball as it leaves his hand. Watch it closely
right on to your bat, and do not start with a preconceived idea of
where the ball is going to pitch, and do not make up your mind to make
a certain stroke before the ball is actually delivered.
PLAYING THE BALL
All strokes may be conveniently divided into two kinds, back and
forward, and back play and forward play may be further divided into
back and forward play for defensive purposes and back and forward play
with the object of making runs. I will deal first with _Forward play_,
and I will imagine that a good length ball has been delivered on a
hard, true wicket. To play this ball correctly the batsman should get
his left leg well out in the line of the ball, and then bring his bat
as close as possible to his leg. This is the secret of all forward
play, and the young cricketer cannot be too often urged to “get the
left leg well out to the bat” when playing forward. Care should be
taken not to overbalance oneself, but if body, wrist, and legs work
correctly, the ball may be forced past the fielder, and it is really
quite extraordinary the power that may be got into the stroke. The
position of the hands changes during the forward stroke, the left wrist
being on the side of the bat away from the wicket before the stroke
is played, and on the opposite side at the expiration of the stroke.
The ball must of course be kept down, and in order to do this the left
shoulder must be kept well forward, pointing in the direction in which
the stroke is made, and the bat must be at such an angle that the top
of the handle is nearer to the bowler than the bottom of the blade. The
whole weight of the body should be brought to bear on the stroke, and
the batsman must make the most of his reach, and the whole thing should
be one action and in one motion. Tom Emmett, the famous old Yorkshire
cricketer, who was our coach at Rugby during the five years I was
there, was never tired of teaching us this stroke. In playing forward
the bat must be quite straight, and at the moment of actual contact
with the ball the bat should be just behind the left leg. Now that
the wickets are so good, forward play is a very effective weapon both
of offence and defence to have in one’s armoury, and it is therefore
distinctly worth while for a batsman to acquire the highest efficiency
in it.
The off drive may range anywhere from the left of the bowler to just in
front of point, and the ball to be thus driven is one that is fairly
well pitched up on the off side of the wicket, but not necessarily a
half-volley. The great thing is to get well to the pitch of the ball,
watch it, and not slash wildly at it. Care must be taken not to have a
“go” at too wide a ball, for this is a favourite trick of slow bowlers,
especially left-handers, and often results in an easy catch on the off
side. There is one stroke, which is neither a genuine cut nor a genuine
off drive, which may for convenience sake be dealt with here. The left
leg is thrown out, as if the batsman were about to play a genuine off
drive, but the ball is hit later than in the off drive, and with a
horizontal rather than a perpendicular bat, the shoulders and forearm
being brought into play rather more than the wrist. In some respects
the stroke is very like the forward cut, of which I shall speak later,
and many cricketers do not consider it an off drive, but rather in the
nature of a cut. It is a useful stroke for a weak-wristed player. A
good length ball on the off stump should be played in the direction
of mid-off. A ball just wide of the off stump in the direction of
extra cover, and a ball about a foot wide on the off side, should be
played towards cover-point. The farther the ball is pitched outside
the off stump, the farther ought the left leg to be thrown across the
wicket, and the farther ought the left shoulder to be thrown forward.
The wider the ball is, the more difficult it is to play, and a mistake
common amongst beginners is that, without considering the direction
of the ball, they advance the left leg straight down the wicket, just
as if, in fact, the ball had pitched on the off stump, and not, for
instance, a foot outside it. The left leg should be thrown _across the
wicket almost in a line with the flight of the ball_. If the batsman
plays forward at a ball a foot outside the off stump with his left leg
straight down the wicket, he will find that the weight of his body will
play no part in the stroke, and that should the ball break back he will
be bowled out; therefore always remember to get the left leg well out
to the bat, for apart from this being the golden rule for all forward
play, there is an added advantage to be gained from the fact that, if
the ball breaks enough to beat the bat, there will be little or no room
for it to pass between the bat and the leg.
But in forward strokes, as in all other strokes, the great thing is to
watch the ball carefully, for should you be playing forward with “your
head in the air,” that is to say, not looking at the ball, which at
the last minute does something unexpected, either bumping or hanging
on the pitch, you will for a certainty find yourself in trouble; and
therefore, until you are thoroughly well set and have got the exact
pace of the wicket, there should be a margin for emergencies, so that
it should be possible to alter one’s stroke at the last moment. The
best way of playing a ball which one has gone forward to, and which
one finds one cannot reach far enough to smother at the pitch, is to
adopt the “half-cock” stroke. This stroke is made by holding the bat
quite straight just over or slightly in front of the popping-crease
and letting the ball hit it. It is a most excellent defensive stroke,
and the proper way to play a ball whose length one has misjudged. W.
G. Grace uses this stroke very frequently, as does F. S. Jackson. In
making a forcing forward stroke the great thing is to swing the arms
well and carry the stroke right through, which if well timed will send
the ball very quickly to the boundary. Some batsmen play this forcing
forward stroke so hard that it is difficult to distinguish it from a
genuine hit, and I have a very vivid recollection of a grand innings
of a hundred odd which A. E. Stoddart played at Lord’s for Middlesex
against Kent some five or six years ago. The wicket was hard and
fast, and the power with which Mr. Stoddart forced good length balls
from W. M. Bradley to the off boundary was astonishing. In offensive
forward play great care should be taken not to bend the right knee,
for with the bending of the right knee comes the sinking of the right
shoulder, and if the shoulder sinks the batsman is very likely to
get under the ball. When a batsman who is a strong forward player is
thoroughly well set on a hard, true wicket, many of his runs will come
from off drives, especially if the bowling be fast or medium paced, and
the power one can get into an off drive, if body, wrist, and eye are
working together, is almost as great as in the case of a genuine hit.
It requires no great physique to be a powerful off driver, for a man
of very slight build, if he is timing the ball well—and by timing the
ball I mean the harmonious working of body, wrist, and eye—can make
the ball travel to the boundary as fast as a strongly and powerfully
built man. There are few better moments at cricket than when one
has forced a good length ball through the fielders on the off side,
standing well balanced where one is, and the ball making haste to the
ring. There is a very conscious feeling that brain, eye, body, and hand
have all acted in concert, and that a great deal has been accomplished
with a minimum of exertion.
BACK PLAY
As soon as a batsman has made up his mind to play a ball back, the
weight of his body should be transferred to the left leg, and the right
foot should be moved back towards the wicket and the left leg drawn up
to it.
Many writers on cricket have laid it down as a rule that the right leg
should never be moved in playing back, which may be all very well as an
elementary principle for a boy who is just starting cricket, but which,
I submit, with all respect, is altogether wrong if applied to one who
has got over the initial difficulties of the game. For myself, were
I coaching a boy, I should tell him to move the right leg in playing
back, though of course I would never allow him to move it away from
the wicket. With a moment’s thought it will be seen that a batsman who
moves his right leg towards the wicket must have a better chance of
playing the ball correctly than one who stands with his right leg glued
to the ground. In the first place, by moving back he makes the ball
which he is shaping at shorter than it would have been if he had stood
where he was by the distance that he stepped back. The ball is made
shorter by two feet if the batsman moves two feet towards his wicket,
instead of playing it where he originally stood, and the two feet more
which in this case the ball has to travel gives the batsman so much
the more time to judge and play it. Again, supposing a ball pitches on
the off stump or just outside it, the batsman will assuredly play that
particular ball more correctly if he moves his right leg across the
wicket in a line with the off stump than if he keeps it firmly planted
just off the leg stump. It stands to reason that if he moves his right
leg across the wicket in a line with the ball, he will be nearer the
direction the ball may take after pitching than if he adhered to his
original position. Moreover, should the particular type of ball we are
discussing break an inch or two from leg, the odds on his being caught
at slip or the wicket are very great, should he not move his right leg
across the wicket; whereas, should he bring his right leg across to
the off stump and watch the ball closely after it has pitched, he will
stand a far better chance of playing that ball in the middle of his bat
than if he had remained with his right leg rooted to the earth. I well
remember a very promising boy at Rugby, one who is now a county player,
being nearly ruined by one of the cricketing masters insisting on his
never moving his right leg, with the result that time after time was he
caught at slip or the wicket, for the simple reason that he was too
far off the ball when he played at it.
In playing forward, the golden rule is to get the left leg well
forward to the direction the ball is taking, and the bat well up to
the leg. The same rule applies in playing back. Get the right leg up
to the line of the ball, and the bat as near as possible to the leg.
The difficulty about moving back across the wicket is that the stroke
requires considerable quickness of eye and foot, and quickness of foot
is a point not half enough insisted on by the majority of coaches. All
the best back players play back in this classical way—Victor Trumper,
Ranjitsinhji, C. B. Fry, Tyldesley, A. C. Maclaren, and F. S. Jackson.
If the ball in question breaks back into the batsman, he is equally
well prepared for it, for he is well over the ball and better able to
contend with the break, because more easily able to move his bat and
get into position to play the stroke, than if he were standing firmly
fixed on his right leg. Any one who thinks about the matter at all
must see the advantage of playing in this way. It seems to me that in
cricket the nearer the striker’s body is to the ball, the more likely
he is to make a correct stroke, for the reason that his eye is nearer
to the object he is striking at. If then a batsman keeps his right foot
firmly fixed just off the leg stump to a ball which pitches on the off
stump or a couple of inches outside it, his eye is necessarily farther
away from that ball than if he moved his right leg across the wicket
in the direction the ball is taking. I do not think this point can be
insisted on too strongly by coaches. Besides, let any cricketer compare
the two methods of playing back, and he will, I am convinced, find the
one I have urged the easiest and most natural.
I am a firm believer in this method of playing back, not only because
all the famous players use it—and that in itself were sufficient—but
because from one’s own experience it has proved not only the easiest,
but by far the most effective. By drawing back the right foot towards
the wicket, not away from it, a batsman is often able to force the ball
away between mid-on and the bowler, or between mid-off and the bowler,
or between short leg and mid-on, the ball in the last instance being
played away by a quick turn of the wrist at the last moment.
“It is a mistake to play back behind the legs, for it is impossible
to put any power into a stroke when the bat is held nearer the wicket
than the batsman himself is standing.” These are the words of K. S.
Ranjitsinhji in the _Jubilee Book of Cricket_, and as Ranjitsinhji is
about the best back player in the world, he ought to know.
It is comparatively easy to play back as a defensive stroke, but any
one who aspires to be a really good batsman must learn to make his
back play a means of scoring runs. On a difficult wicket back play is
everything; in fact, it may be safely said that a good rule to bear in
mind on a sticky wicket is _to play back or hit_.
A batsman, unless he be an experienced one, ought not to try and
hook short balls round to leg, especially if the bowling is fast, but
a “rank long-hopper” may be hit to any point of the compass with a
horizontal bat; though, however short and bad a ball, it should be
carefully watched all the way, in case of an unexpected hang or rise.
Short and straight balls, if they do not get up to any height, may be
flicked round on the on side by a quick turn of the wrist.
In making the hook stroke the batsman should move back towards the
wicket, turn almost square to the ball, and hit with a horizontal
bat to the on side. The ball should be watched right on to the bat,
so that, if it does anything unexpected, an ordinary back stroke may
be substituted. Even a very short ball outside the off stump may be
hooked round to leg, especially if there are seven fielders on the off
side and only two or three on the on side. Shrewsbury, Tyldesley, A.
C. Maclaren, C. B. Fry, K. S. Ranjitsinhji, and Victor Trumper are,
or were, very good at this stroke, which may be made, by using the
wrists, with an almost straight bat. Men who play the stroke with their
arms, like A. C. Maclaren, hit across the ball. To hook a fast bowler
is a proceeding fraught with no little danger, and ought only to be
indulged in very occasionally, for it is a stroke that requires no
little skill and nerve, for often the ball comes shoulder or head high
to the batsman. A. E. Stoddart was particularly good at hitting this
type of ball round to leg. Indeed, all round there have been few finer
players to fast bowling than Stoddart. On slow wickets the hook stroke
is simply invaluable, and short straight balls may be despatched to the
boundary quite easily.
THE BACK GLANCE
A ball rather short of a good length pitching just outside the leg
stump should be played away on the leg side with a backward movement.
The right foot is put well back in a line with the leg stump, and the
left foot drawn up beside it, but different cricketers play the stroke
differently. Ranjitsinhji, for instance, moves his left leg across the
wicket towards point, faces the ball, and plays it at the last instant
by a quick turn of the wrist. Other batsmen turn almost right round,
and others get right in front of the wicket. The ball must be watched
right on to the bat, and the ball should glance away somewhere behind
the umpire, or in the direction of long leg. It is a most useful and
fascinating stroke, and can be employed to balls pitching on the middle
and leg stumps, especially to a break-back bowler, though of course
there is a danger here of being given l.b.w.
THE FORWARD GLANCE
A good length or slightly overpitched ball just outside the leg stump
should be played in the following manner: The left leg should be thrown
down the wicket in a line with the ball, and the moment the ball
touches the bat, the bat should be pushed forward by a quick turn of
the wrist, the whole weight of the body being put into the stroke. The
body is thrown well forward, with the result that the ball will go
round to leg at a great pace.
I have found this a very useful stroke to bowlers like Mold,
Richardson, and Lockwood, who break back into one, and, as in the
case of the back glance, the stroke may be made to a ball pitching on
the middle and leg stump to a break-back bowler. At Lord’s it is a
particularly effective stroke if one is batting at the end opposite
the Pavilion, for the slope in the ground tends to accentuate the off
break of any bowler who is on at the Pavilion end. Altogether it is a
very productive stroke in first-class cricket. The back glance and the
forward glance have practically taken the place of the leg hit, though,
with the new-fashioned type of leg-break bowling as practised by Vine,
Braund, Armstrong the Australian, and others, the genuine leg hit was
more often seen last season than in some past years; but with six or
seven men on the on side, it is extremely difficult to hit a leg ball
without running the risk of being caught somewhere on the leg side,
especially as the Braund type of bowler bowls a good length outside the
batsman’s legs.
The square leg hit is made by advancing the left leg down the wicket,
and hitting the ball just as it passes the left leg. It is either just
before the ball pitches or on the rise, according to the length of the
ball. It is a very difficult matter to keep the ball down, the complete
success of the stroke depending upon perfect accuracy of timing. This
hit ought only to be attempted to a ball short of a half-volley. If the
ball is a half-volley or well up, the correct stroke is in front of the
wicket or square to leg with a vertical bat.
[Illustration:
_From a Drawing by_ _G. F. Watts, R.A._
_THE DRAW OR PULL._]
I am inclined to think that the glance stroke is preferable to the
square leg or long leg hit, for it is quite as good for scoring
purposes, and the ball can be watched right on to the bat, and placed
and kept down with far greater certainty.
THE PULL
differs from the hook stroke in that it is more in the nature of a
drive. The pull stroke is used to hit a ball pitched outside the
off stump round to leg, and the stroke may be applied either to a
half-volley or a good length ball outside the off stump.
W. W. Read used to be the great exponent of this stroke, and
Ranjitsinhji also plays it with wonderful certainty. It is a dangerous
stroke, for the ball which can thus be treated requires very careful
choosing, and it is the difficulty of choosing the right ball which
makes the stroke dangerous. The left foot should be thrown out to the
pitch of the ball, and just as the ball rises from the ground it should
be hit round on the on side with a horizontal bat. It is often a very
useful stroke on a sticky wicket, to a bowler who is breaking back,
though there is some risk of being caught at deep square leg, rather in
front of the wicket, by the fielder who is almost invariably placed
there when the wicket is helping the bowler.
A straight half-volley is a ball which every player ought to be able to
drive, and it should always be hit in the most natural direction. It is
a mistake to try and pull a straight half-volley. The chief point to
remember in hitting a half-volley is to get as much swing as possible
into the stroke. One or two batsmen swing the bat so far back that they
occasionally hit themselves with the back of the bat on the head. The
shoulders should come greatly into play in the drive, for they give
added power to the swing of the arms, and throw the weight of the body
with great force on to the left leg at the moment of hitting the ball.
In driving, the back of the left hand remains facing the bowler,
instead of being on the opposite side of the handle, as in the case
of forward play. The bat, as in forward play, must be kept as near as
possible to the left leg. Batsmen who are quick on their feet often
jump out to the pitch of a ball, and thereby make it a half-volley.
Victor Trumper, the finest batsman Australia has ever produced, is the
great exponent of this stroke, and the rapidity with which he gets to
the ball is astonishing.
It is, if successfully played, a very useful stroke, for nothing is
more apt to put a bowler off his length than by thus attacking him. It
is of course a stroke more suitable for slow bowling than for fast.
[Illustration:
_From a Drawing by_ _G. F. Watts, R.A._
_THE LEG VOLLEY._]
[Illustration:
_From a Drawing by_ _G. F. Watts, R.A._
_THE CUT._]
THE ON DRIVE
Nearly every batsman prays for a half-volley on the leg stump, or one
pitching within three or four inches of the leg stump, for, if properly
timed, it is a stroke which sends a thrill of joy through the batsman.
If the ball pitches on the wicket, the hit should be made between the
bowler and mid-on, though with a break-back bowler the ball may often
be forced wide of mid-on’s right side. If the ball pitches outside the
leg stump, it should be hit anywhere to the right of mid-on.
The whole body should work in agreement, the arms should swing freely,
and the stroke should be well followed through. Nearly all the great
batsmen play this stroke to perfection, but none better than F. S.
Jackson.
THE CUT
There are three classes of cuts: the forward cut, the square cut, and
the late cut.
The forward cut is made at a shortish ball outside the off stump, the
right foot being kept still, but the left foot brought across in the
line of the ball. It is a stroke that requires very accurate timing,
but when timed well, the ball often goes to the ring like a flash of
lightning, somewhere between point and cover-point. W. L. Murdoch plays
this stroke particularly well, as do A. O. Jones, H. K. Foster, and W.
Gunn, while C. H. B. Marsham made the great majority of his fine 100
not out in the ‘Varsity match of 1901 by its means. It is a somewhat
dangerous stroke, for should the ball hang or bump unexpectedly, an
uppish hit will in all probability follow.
The square cut sends the ball just behind point, and is made by moving
the right foot across the wicket in a line with the off stump; and just
as the ball is passing the batsman’s body, the bat is brought down by
a quick movement of the arms, while more power is added to the stroke
by a sharp flick of the wrists. The bat should be slanting downwards
towards the ground, in order to get well over the ball.
Tyldesley of Lancashire plays the same cut as well as any one else,
though he often hits across the ball rather than over it, a fine
stroke, harder than if he had got over the ball, being the result. His
method is, however, a little dangerous, as there is a chance of the
ball going up, though Tyldesley seems to have brought the stroke to
perfection.
In the late cut the right foot is moved across to the same position
as in the case of the square cut, but the ball is hit _after_ it has
passed the batsman’s body. The most suitable ball for the late cut is
one pitched wide of the off stump, not quite so short as the ball for
the square cut, but still short of a good length. It is essentially a
wrist stroke, and a man with a weak wrist will be wise not to attempt
it. Late cutting requires a little manœuvring-ground, and care must be
taken to avoid cutting at a ball too near the wicket.
There are few players who cut late really well, for the stroke requires
the greatest nicety in timing and a strong, flexible pair of wrists.
Ranjitsinhji makes this stroke with great certainty and brilliancy, but
then he possesses an extraordinarily supple pair of wrists.
There is another kind of cut, called the “chop,” which should be used
to a short ball outside the off stump which keeps low after pitching.
The bat should be brought down with great force horizontally, and if
well timed the ball will go very hard. This is a favourite stroke
of Sir T. C. O’Brien, K. G. Key, Victor Trumper, and R. E. Foster,
who in the ‘Varsity match of 1900 brought off this stroke on several
occasions off E. M. Dowson’s bowling. On a hard, true wicket, against
fast or medium-paced bowling, forward play is the best; against slow
bowling and lobs play back or hit is, generally speaking, the soundest
advice that can be given a young cricketer, though on some wickets slow
bowling may be played forward to, and even forced forward. But every
really good slow bowler varies his pace. Five out of the six balls
may be more or less of the same pace; but one ball out of the over is
generally a fast one, or at any rate medium pace. Rhodes, the Yorkshire
left-hander, bowls a very good fast ball, which comes across quickly
with his arm, and the same may be said of Blythe of Kent and Cranfield
of Somerset; while amongst slow right-handed bowlers C. M. Wells, for
instance, is constantly varying the flight and pace of the ball. But in
distinguishing the different styles of play which should be adopted
in playing fast and slow bowling, it is well to remember that to fast
bowling one plays forward to score runs, while to slow bowling you play
forward to defend your wicket; though, as I have said before, a slow
bowler may often be pushed forward between the fielders for one and two
and sometimes four runs.
I do not think that batsmen jump out enough to slow bowling, for there
is nothing so demoralising to a bowler as a batsman who comes out of
his ground and hits when the ball is at all overpitched. Remember, if
you do make up your mind to jump out and hit, to get right to the pitch
of the ball; forget, too, for the moment, that there is such a person
as the wicket-keeper.
When the bowling is fast enough to compel the wicket-keeper to stand
back, I have found it a good plan to stand a foot or two outside the
popping-crease. This tends to put the bowler off his length, for he
finds his good length balls hit on the half-volley, and this, for the
time at any rate, is apt to disconcert him.
[Illustration: _EIGHTEENTH CENTURY BATS, WHICH BELONGED TO THE FOURTH
DUKE OF BUCCLEUCH._]
[Illustration: _CELEBRATED BATS._
_The one on the left belonged to Alfred Mynn, 1850; the centre one
was originally used by Merser, of Kent (left-handed batsman); and the
right-hand bat by E. Bagot, 1793._]
In playing lobs you may stand in your ground and play back,
occasionally scoring a single, but in dealing with lobs offensive
tactics are the best, for, as a great general once said, “The best
method of defence is to attack.” Lobs should therefore be either hit on
the full pitch or played back, and the batsman should stand a little
easier on his right leg than if he were playing fast or medium bowling,
so as to be ready to jump out and take the ball on the full pitch the
moment he sees that it is slightly overpitched. By far the best lob
bowler of the present day is D. L. A. Jephson, the Surrey captain, for
he varies the flight and pace of the ball extremely cleverly, often,
indeed, sending in quite a fast good length ball. He can, too, make
the ball break both ways, and many people think that he might with
advantage to Surrey bowl more than he does.
Batting on a hard, true wicket and on a sticky, difficult one are two
entirely different things, and one often sees a man who is a fine
player on a fast wicket absolutely at sea when rain has ruined the
pitch. A left-handed bowler like Rhodes is then in his element, for
he pitches the ball a good length on the leg stump; it comes across
quickly to the off, and you stand a very good chance of being either
bowled, or caught by David Hunter at the wicket, or snapped up by eager
and lengthy John Tunnicliffe at short slip. Haigh, also of Yorkshire,
is an extremely difficult bowler on this kind of wicket, for the amount
of off break he can get on the ball is prodigious; while Trumble,
the Australian, is probably as hard a bowler to play under these
circumstances as ever lived.
As a rule the hitting or “long-handle game,” as it has been called,
pays best under these circumstances, but some men who are really strong
in their back and on side play can play their ordinary game. A strong
defensive back player can often get a good length ball which breaks
back away on the on side for two or three runs, while a good puller has
a great advantage on this kind of wicket. The man who does not watch
the ball, and watch it well, will have little or no chance on a sticky
wicket. At one time there were very few men who could play at all
successfully on a really difficult wicket, but of late years, what with
the general improvement in back play—due chiefly to Ranjitsinhji’s
influence on the game—the number, though far from being large, has
increased. Victor Trumper, F. S. Jackson, Ranjitsinhji, C. B. Fry, A.
C. Maclaren, T. L. Taylor, and Tyldesley are the best batsmen we have
under conditions favourable to the bowler, and I shall never forget an
extraordinary innings Ranjitsinhji played at Brighton in July 1900 for
Middlesex _v._ Sussex. When stumps were drawn on the second evening
of the match, Ranjitsinhji was not out 37, the game up to that time
having been played on a perfect wicket. Rain, however, fell heavily
in the night, and with the sun coming out next morning, the wicket
was altogether in favour of the bowler. Vine made 17, but no one else
on the side that day got more than 5, excepting Ranjitsinhji, who was
last man out, l.b.w. to Trott, for 202! He gave one chance in the long
field when he had made about 160 runs, but apart from this, his batting
was absolutely without a flaw. Most of his runs came from hard drives,
chiefly to the on, and strokes on the leg side. It was an astonishing
innings, and its full significance was possibly not appreciated until
Tate, on an exactly similar wicket, dismissed a powerful Middlesex
eleven for just over 100 runs.
[Illustration: _WAR-WORN WEAPONS._]
[Illustration: _RELICS OF PAST ENGAGEMENTS._]
A few words now on running. Never attempt a run if you feel any doubt
as to its safety, for it is better to lose a possible single than to
run out your partner. At the same time, I do not think that cricketers
as a rule run as well as they ought to between the wickets. The
Australians are an exception; they are extraordinarily quick.
Always back up two or three yards; when you call, call in a decided
manner. If your partner calls you, run hard if you intend to go; if
you do not, stop him at once. The great thing is to make up your mind
instantly.
If you are the striker, and you play the ball in front of the wicket,
_always say_ something—either “Yes,” “No,” or “Wait.” If you hit the
ball behind the wicket, your partner at the bowler’s end should call,
but as to whether the striker or non-striker should call the hit to
third man many cricketers differ. The best plan, in my opinion, is to
arrange with your partner. In that event a disaster is not likely to
occur.
Always run the first run as hard as you can, and always look out for
a second run when the ball is hit to the long field, for even to a
Tyldesley, a Denton, or a Burnup, good runners, who understand one
another, may often with safety get two for a drive to the long field
when a slower runner would be content with a single.
There are, too, very few third men to whom one cannot run. I do not
mean to say that a run should be attempted to third man when the ball
goes hard and straight to him on the first bounce, but for a stroke
a little to one side of him there is frequently a run. But the two
batsmen must use their own discretion—and as has been said, _it is
a thousand times better to lose a run than to risk running out your
partner_. I was twice run out in the ‘Varsity match of 1896—to a
great extent my own fault in the second innings,—and since that
game—memorable for the fact that Oxford, going in with 330 runs to
win, hit off the number for the loss of four wickets, and for the
no-ball incident which led eventually to an alteration in the follow-on
rule—I have taken particular pains to improve my running between the
wickets. I am not often run out now, and I hope I but seldom run my
partner out—_Experientia docet sapientiam_.
Many batsmen, when nearing their 50 or 100, attempt the most absurd
runs. This fault is more common amongst professional cricketers than
amongst amateurs, for the reason that all the counties, with the one
exception of Yorkshire, give their professionals a sovereign for every
50 runs they make. This so-called “talent-money” has been the cause
of many a run-out. Yorkshire gives no “talent-money,” but over and
above the usual fee of £5 or £6 a match, each professional is “marked”
according to his work in a particular game. For example, if a man made
25 runs on a bad wicket at a critical time, or even 10 not out in a
one-wicket victory, he would be marked according to the merit of his
performance in the eyes of his captain—in this case Lord Hawke. A fine
bowling feat or a fine catch would be similarly rewarded. Each mark
represents five shillings, and this system might with advantage be
adopted by other counties.
[Illustration: _GEORGE PARR, THE FAMOUS NOTTINGHAM BAT._]
[Illustration: _“N. FELIX” (N. Wanostrocht)._]
There is one thing that no coaching will teach a young cricketer, and
that is confidence. Time alone can give him that, for confidence is a
plant of slow growth. I do not believe the cricketer who says he has
never been nervous—he is certainly not a first-class cricketer if he
adheres to that statement; but nervousness will gradually disappear as
a batsman gains confidence in himself. I have known men who when they
first played county cricket were almost paralysed with nervousness, but
who after two or three years’ experience went out to bat with every
confidence. Nervousness is undoubtedly a great handicap, and young
players should try to overcome this weakness as soon as possible.
Too much confidence is a mistake, for, to go back again to the Latin
grammar, _nimia fiducia calamitati solet esse_. But too much confidence
is better than no confidence—and by confidence I do not mean conceit,
but a belief in one’s own capabilities, founded on past deeds.
There are cricketers, too, who are so superstitious as to be almost a
nuisance. There is the man who thinks he cannot make runs unless he
goes in in a particular place. These men are somewhat annoying, but I
think a captain should always try to humour them, if by so doing he is
not upsetting the batting order of his side.
The typical instance of superstition affecting one’s play at cricket
seems to me to have been exemplified in the case of the Rugby boy who,
alighting at the St. John’s Wood Station on the Metropolitan Railway,
for the Rugby and Marlborough match, saw the advertisement of Mr. John
Hare’s play, _A Pair of Spectacles_, staring him in the face. That boy
had made heaps of runs during the summer at Rugby, but he came on to
the ground fully convinced that he would make a pair of spectacles, and
make them he did.
Again, G. O. Smith, to whose splendid batting Oxford were mainly
indebted for their victory over Cambridge in 1896, had a firm
conviction that he could only make runs in a certain pair of trousers;
and G. J. Mordaunt, the Oxford captain of the previous year, took it as
an evil omen, when, on awaking on the morning of the ‘Varsity match,
he saw from his bedroom window the flag with “Druce” in large letters
on it flying from the Baker Street Bazaar. W. E. Druce was captain
of the Light Blue eleven that year, and Mordaunt’s feeling of coming
disaster was, I regret to say, justified by the result of the match,
for Cambridge beat us by 134 runs.
Coaches should be careful to avoid cramping the style of a young
batsman, and of suppressing individuality and budding genius. Batsmen
cannot be all of one type. Had G. L. Jessop been made to play according
to the rules laid down, a great hitter would have been lost to the
world, and England would never have won that last test-match at the
Oval, for there would have been no Jessop on the side to accomplish
what was, perhaps, the finest piece of hitting ever seen on a
cricket-ground. It is useless trying to make a Barlow into a Lyons, or
a Lyons into a Barlow.
Always endeavour to reach the ground in good time before a match
begins, and to have five or ten minutes’ practice; though there are
some batsmen who do not believe in too much net practice. Every man
must of course decide what suits himself best, but I cannot believe
that a few minutes at a net can do anything but good, for one gains a
sight of the ball, and gets the pace of the wicket.
If you are put in to bat anywhere but first, always remember that it is
your duty not to take more than two minutes in getting to the wicket,
for that is the limit allowed by law. This is most important, for you
have no right to keep your partner waiting, and to waste time.
No one will ever become a great batsman without enthusiasm, and
enthusiasm of the kind which will carry him through the inevitable
disappointments and troubles of his early career. The path to success
is not easy, and success comes only to the few. But the goal once
reached, he must be a poor man indeed who does not feel a glow of pride
on seeing the magic figures 100 going up on the big scoring-board at
Lord’s beneath his name; for believe me, the satisfaction is so great,
and the applause such sweet music, that it is worth while taking the
greatest pains to attain the proficiency necessary to the achievement
of the feat. There is, too, a subtle charm and fascination about
the game which creates among its devotees a bond of fellowship and
_camaraderie_ which nothing can alter.
[Illustration:
_From a Drawing by_ _G. F. Watts, R.A._
_THE BOWLER._
(_Alfred Mynn_).]
[Illustration]