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The Name Game.
- Thread starter yaju
- Start date
Clarrie Grimmett (Australia) Wisden Cricketer of the Year 1931
This from Cricinfo Player Page -(from Wisden Obituary by Bill O'Reilly)
Profile:Wisden obituary
Born in Dunedin in the South Island of New Zealand on Christmas Day, Clarence Victor Grimmett must have been the best Christmas present Australia ever received from that country. Going to Australia in 1914, on a short working holiday which lasted for 66 years, he joined the Sydney club, which had its headquarters at Rushcutters Bay. Three years in Sydney District cricket were sufficient to warn him that Arthur Mailey, another great spinner, had literally been given the green light towards the New South Wales team and all fields beyond. This, and marriage to a Victorian girl, took Grimmett to Melbourne, where he played with the South Melbourne club. During his six years in Melbourne he was given only three invitations to play for Victoria, the third of which was against South Australia when, providentially, he collected eight wickets.
It was after his visit to Sydney with the Victorians, for the first Shield match after the Great War, that I managed to see him for the first time. In Sydney, in the match against New South Wales, Ted McDonald had performed outstandingly for Victoria and was consequently the cynosure of all eyes when the Victorian team, on its way home to Melbourne, played an up-country match in the mountain city of Goulburn. Not quite all eyes, however. The attention of one pair, belonging to a thirteen-year-old boy named O’Reilly, was rivetted on a wiry little leg-spinner whose name on the local score-board was Grummett. To me, from that day onward, Grummett he remained, and my own endearing name for him throughout our later long association was Grum.
We played together for the first time in an Australian team at Adelaide against Herbie Cameron’s South Africans in 1931, and for the last time in the Durban Test of 1936 when Vic Richardson’s Australian side became the first ever to go through a tour undefeated – a feat paralleled by Bradman’s 1948 team in England. On that 1935–36 South African tour, Grum set an Australian record for a Test series with 44 wickets, yet he came home to be dropped forever from the Australian side. He was shoved aside like a worn-out boot for each of the five Tests against Gubby Allen’s English team in Australia in 1936–37 and he failed to gain a place in the 1938 team to England, led by Bradman.
It was illogical to assume that age was the reason for his discard. He was 47, it is true, when the touring side was chosen, yet two years later, at the age of 49, he established an Australian record of 73 wickets for a domestic first-class season. Which raises, rather pointedly, the question of why the hell was he dropped? By now Don Bradman was Grimmett’s captain for South Australia, and also Australia’s captain. As such he was an Australian selector, and Bradman, it seemed, had become inordinately impressed with the spin ability of Frank Ward, a former clubmate of his in Sydney. It was Ward who was chosen for the first three Tests against Allen’s side in 1936–37 and who caught the boat for England in 1938. Bradman, it seemed had lost faith in the best spin bowler the world has seen. Grum’s departure was a punishing blow to me and to my plans of attack. His diagnostic type of probing spin buttressed my own methods to such a degree that my reaction to his dismissal was one of infinite loss and loneliness.
Unlike Arthur Mailey, the first of the Australian spin trilogy of the inter-wars era, Grimmett never insisted on spin as his chief means of destruction. To him it was no more than an important adjunct to unerring length and tantalising direction. Grimmett seldom beat a batsman by spin alone. Mailey often did. I cannot remember Grimmett bowling a long-hop, whereas Mailey averaged one an over. So much, in fact, did inaccuracy become a feature of Mailey’s success that he himself came to believe that it was an essential ingredient. Such wantonness was anathema to Grimmett, who believed that a bowler should bowl as well as he possibly could every time he turned his arm over. And Grimmett was perhaps the best and most consistently active cricket thinker I ever met.
He loved to tell his listeners that it was he who taught Stan McCabe how to use his left hand correctly on the bat handle – and I never heard Stan deny it. The flipper was originated by Grum during that Babylonian Captivity of his, and he used it to good effect in his record-breaking last season before the Second World War. He passed it on to men like Bruce Dooland and Cecil Pepper. He seldom bowled the wrong’un, because he preferred not to toss the ball high. On hard, true pitches he would bowl faster than his usual pace, taunting good batsmen to get to him on the half-volley. He was a genius on direction, and his talent for preying on a batsman’s weakness was unequalled. He never let a batsman off the hook; once you were under his spell you were there to stay.
Grimmett joined South Australia from Victoria in 1923, just in time to bowl his way into the final Test in Sydney against Arthur Gilligan’s 1924–25 England team. In his baptismal effort he took eleven wickets. In 79 Sheffield Shield games he tallied 513 wickets, an Australian record that will probably last for ever. The most successful Shield spinner in modern times, Richie Benaud, totalled 266 wickets in 73 matches, a relatively insignificant performance. Of Grimmett’s 106 Test wickets against England, nearly 70 were collected on English pitches in a land where savants say leg-spinners are ineffective. One wonders what colossal figures he would have amassed had he played all his first-class cricket in England. Had he done so, you can be sure there would not be half the present insistence on pacier finger-cutting.
It was lucky for me that I preferred to bowl downwind, an unusual trait in a spinner’s character. It allowed our partnership to develop and prosper. No captain ever had to worry which bowling end was whose. We competed strongly with each other and kept a critical eye on one another’s performances. In Johannesburg in 1936, all-rounder Chud Langton hit me clean over the top of the square-leg grandstand of the old Wanderers ground. Cackling gleefully, Grum left no doubt in my mind that it was the biggest hit he had ever seen. Silently I was inclined to agree. In Clarrie’s next over, Chud clouted him straight over the sightscreen and so far into the railway marshalling yards that the ball was never returned. From that delivery, until hostilities ceased for the afternoon, I never managed to get within earshot of my bowling mate.
Social life meant little to Grum. Not until late in his career did he discover that it was not a bad idea to relax between matches. In England in 1934 I bought him a beer in the Star Hotel in Worcester to celebrate his first ten wickets of the tour. It took him so long to sink it that I decided to wait for his return gesture till some other time on the tour. Later he told me, with obvious regret, that on previous tours he had been keeping the wrong company and had never really enjoyed a touring trip. That I thought was sad, but not half as sad as I felt when, at the very zenith of his glorious career, he was tipped out of business altogether. With Grum at the other end, prepared to pick me up and dust me down, I feared no batsman. Our association must have been one of cricket’s greatest success stories of the twentieth century.
Bill O'Reilly, Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack
This from Cricinfo Player Page -(from Wisden Obituary by Bill O'Reilly)
Profile:Wisden obituary
Born in Dunedin in the South Island of New Zealand on Christmas Day, Clarence Victor Grimmett must have been the best Christmas present Australia ever received from that country. Going to Australia in 1914, on a short working holiday which lasted for 66 years, he joined the Sydney club, which had its headquarters at Rushcutters Bay. Three years in Sydney District cricket were sufficient to warn him that Arthur Mailey, another great spinner, had literally been given the green light towards the New South Wales team and all fields beyond. This, and marriage to a Victorian girl, took Grimmett to Melbourne, where he played with the South Melbourne club. During his six years in Melbourne he was given only three invitations to play for Victoria, the third of which was against South Australia when, providentially, he collected eight wickets.
It was after his visit to Sydney with the Victorians, for the first Shield match after the Great War, that I managed to see him for the first time. In Sydney, in the match against New South Wales, Ted McDonald had performed outstandingly for Victoria and was consequently the cynosure of all eyes when the Victorian team, on its way home to Melbourne, played an up-country match in the mountain city of Goulburn. Not quite all eyes, however. The attention of one pair, belonging to a thirteen-year-old boy named O’Reilly, was rivetted on a wiry little leg-spinner whose name on the local score-board was Grummett. To me, from that day onward, Grummett he remained, and my own endearing name for him throughout our later long association was Grum.
We played together for the first time in an Australian team at Adelaide against Herbie Cameron’s South Africans in 1931, and for the last time in the Durban Test of 1936 when Vic Richardson’s Australian side became the first ever to go through a tour undefeated – a feat paralleled by Bradman’s 1948 team in England. On that 1935–36 South African tour, Grum set an Australian record for a Test series with 44 wickets, yet he came home to be dropped forever from the Australian side. He was shoved aside like a worn-out boot for each of the five Tests against Gubby Allen’s English team in Australia in 1936–37 and he failed to gain a place in the 1938 team to England, led by Bradman.
It was illogical to assume that age was the reason for his discard. He was 47, it is true, when the touring side was chosen, yet two years later, at the age of 49, he established an Australian record of 73 wickets for a domestic first-class season. Which raises, rather pointedly, the question of why the hell was he dropped? By now Don Bradman was Grimmett’s captain for South Australia, and also Australia’s captain. As such he was an Australian selector, and Bradman, it seemed, had become inordinately impressed with the spin ability of Frank Ward, a former clubmate of his in Sydney. It was Ward who was chosen for the first three Tests against Allen’s side in 1936–37 and who caught the boat for England in 1938. Bradman, it seemed had lost faith in the best spin bowler the world has seen. Grum’s departure was a punishing blow to me and to my plans of attack. His diagnostic type of probing spin buttressed my own methods to such a degree that my reaction to his dismissal was one of infinite loss and loneliness.
Unlike Arthur Mailey, the first of the Australian spin trilogy of the inter-wars era, Grimmett never insisted on spin as his chief means of destruction. To him it was no more than an important adjunct to unerring length and tantalising direction. Grimmett seldom beat a batsman by spin alone. Mailey often did. I cannot remember Grimmett bowling a long-hop, whereas Mailey averaged one an over. So much, in fact, did inaccuracy become a feature of Mailey’s success that he himself came to believe that it was an essential ingredient. Such wantonness was anathema to Grimmett, who believed that a bowler should bowl as well as he possibly could every time he turned his arm over. And Grimmett was perhaps the best and most consistently active cricket thinker I ever met.
He loved to tell his listeners that it was he who taught Stan McCabe how to use his left hand correctly on the bat handle – and I never heard Stan deny it. The flipper was originated by Grum during that Babylonian Captivity of his, and he used it to good effect in his record-breaking last season before the Second World War. He passed it on to men like Bruce Dooland and Cecil Pepper. He seldom bowled the wrong’un, because he preferred not to toss the ball high. On hard, true pitches he would bowl faster than his usual pace, taunting good batsmen to get to him on the half-volley. He was a genius on direction, and his talent for preying on a batsman’s weakness was unequalled. He never let a batsman off the hook; once you were under his spell you were there to stay.
Grimmett joined South Australia from Victoria in 1923, just in time to bowl his way into the final Test in Sydney against Arthur Gilligan’s 1924–25 England team. In his baptismal effort he took eleven wickets. In 79 Sheffield Shield games he tallied 513 wickets, an Australian record that will probably last for ever. The most successful Shield spinner in modern times, Richie Benaud, totalled 266 wickets in 73 matches, a relatively insignificant performance. Of Grimmett’s 106 Test wickets against England, nearly 70 were collected on English pitches in a land where savants say leg-spinners are ineffective. One wonders what colossal figures he would have amassed had he played all his first-class cricket in England. Had he done so, you can be sure there would not be half the present insistence on pacier finger-cutting.
It was lucky for me that I preferred to bowl downwind, an unusual trait in a spinner’s character. It allowed our partnership to develop and prosper. No captain ever had to worry which bowling end was whose. We competed strongly with each other and kept a critical eye on one another’s performances. In Johannesburg in 1936, all-rounder Chud Langton hit me clean over the top of the square-leg grandstand of the old Wanderers ground. Cackling gleefully, Grum left no doubt in my mind that it was the biggest hit he had ever seen. Silently I was inclined to agree. In Clarrie’s next over, Chud clouted him straight over the sightscreen and so far into the railway marshalling yards that the ball was never returned. From that delivery, until hostilities ceased for the afternoon, I never managed to get within earshot of my bowling mate.
Social life meant little to Grum. Not until late in his career did he discover that it was not a bad idea to relax between matches. In England in 1934 I bought him a beer in the Star Hotel in Worcester to celebrate his first ten wickets of the tour. It took him so long to sink it that I decided to wait for his return gesture till some other time on the tour. Later he told me, with obvious regret, that on previous tours he had been keeping the wrong company and had never really enjoyed a touring trip. That I thought was sad, but not half as sad as I felt when, at the very zenith of his glorious career, he was tipped out of business altogether. With Grum at the other end, prepared to pick me up and dust me down, I feared no batsman. Our association must have been one of cricket’s greatest success stories of the twentieth century.
Bill O'Reilly, Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack
Last edited:
Bhagwat Chandrasekhar (India) Wisden Cricketer of the Year 1972
This from Cricinfo Player Page -
TESTS
(career)
M I NO Runs HS Ave 100 50 Ct St
Batting & Fielding 58 80 39 167 22 4.07 0 0 25 0
Balls M R W Ave BBI 5 10 SR Econ
Bowling 15963 584 7199 242 29.74 8-79 16 2 65.9 2.70
Profile:
For a nation starved of wins abroad, Chandra was a rare jewel: he remains India's biggest matchwinner overseas with 42 wickets in five Tests. Batsmen didn't know quite what to expect from him and sometimes neither did Chandra himself, as he once admitted. An attack of polio in childhood left his right arm withered, but Chandra turned his handicap into an advantage. After a long, bouncing run-up, he delivered sharp googlies, spiteful topspinners and legbreaks at near medium-pace from the back of his hand with a whipping action. He could often be erratic, but no one among India's famed spin quartet was more likely to deliver an unplayable ball than Chandra. His 6 for 38 at The Oval in 1971 gave India their first series victory in England and he was instrumental in India’s first win in Australia in 1978, taking 12 for 104 at Melbourne. H Natarajan
Chandra: The man who made the 'King' his bunny
S Jagadish - 18 May 2000
On a gloomy August day at the Oval in 1971, a one man show was responsible for one of Indian cricket's finest hours. After the series win against the West Indies in their backyard, India played Illingworth's England side in England. While India were hardly world beaters, their opponents were a strong side. England had beaten West Indies and Australia, two of the best sides around at the time, and were unbeaten in Test cricket for over 3 years and 26 Tests.
With a strong batting lineup consisting of Brian Luckhurst, John Edrich, Keith Fletcher, Basil D'Oliveira and Alan Knott, England fancied their chances against an Indian side which had only Sunil Gavaskar who was still in his first international season, Ajit Wadekar and GR Viswanath. Even though Dilip Sardesai had made a memorable double hundred in the West Indies, he was at the end of his career. But India also had Chandra!
The rest, as the cliche goes, is history. Chandra ran through England to finish with 6/38 and match figures of 8/114. India then overcame the mandatory hiccups to win the Test by 4 wickets and the series by the margin of 1-0. There was no doubt about who India's man of the moment was, Bhagwat Chandrasekhar, who celebrates his 55th birthday today.
Chandra was termed a 'freak' bowler. He was also extremely unpredictable. His bowling ranged from the extremely unplayable to the downright mediocre. An attack of polio at birth left him with a weak right arm. However he fought the handicap to become one of India's best spinners ever.
He was not in the Bedi or Prasanna mould, buying the batsman's wicket by inviting him out of the crease to have a hit. Chandrasekhar bought his wickets by bowling at speeds which would make a medium pacer happy. His main wicket-taking ball was a skidding top-spinner. He also bowled googlies and rarely bowled the legbreak. He was an extremely attacking bowler. But at the same time, he has confessed that he himself did not know what the ball would do. Like Jeff Thomson once said about his own bowling, Chandra just trotted in and let it rip.
Chandrasekhar made his debut in 1963-64 against the visiting Englishmen led by Mike Smith. As a premonition of things to follow, he was dismissed for a duck. This was ironical considering he wanted to model himself on Richie Benaud, as an all-rounder. However he snared 4 wickets in the first innings and 1 in the second to finish with 5 wickets for the game. He got his first 5 wicket haul two years after his debut, 7/157 in a losing cause against the West Indies at Bombay.
After the Indian tour to Australia in 1967, he missed 4 years of international cricket. He sustained a leg injury during the Australian series and shortly after his return to India midway through the series, he was involved in a nasty scooter accident. Four years in the wilderness, he returned as part of Wadekar's Indian team to England in 1971. After that there was no looking back for Chandra.
In the 1974-75 series against the visiting West Indians he gave Vivian Richards a torrid time, snaring him twice on debut for 4 & 3. Coincidentally enough, Richards made 192 in the next match. But Chandra was dropped for that Test !
In 1979 when India toured England, Chandra had his man again. This time it was in a tour game against Somerset. Richards allegedly told wicket-keeper Surinder Khanna 'What has he been brought on for ?' when the acting captain Viswanath introduced Chandra into the attack a while after Richards started his innings. Predictably, Richards perished to Chandra's bowling. In fact, legend has it that when Richards came in to bat, Chandra welcomed him with the words 'Here is my bunny'. Such was Chandra's hold on Viv. He is probably the only bowler who can claim that honour !
When Chandra bowled, particularly at the Eden Gardens, the crowd used to get totally involved with the game. Chants of 'Chandra, Chandra' and 'Boowwlledd' filled the stadium as he ran in to deliver the ball . Most definitely, it would have been an unnerving experience for the batsman.
The most telling indicator of Chandrasekhar's contribution to Indian cricket in the 1970s has been the number of victories he played a major part in. In his 58 tests, he contributed to over 10 Indian victories. When India won at the Oval in 1971, he was the star. When India defeated England at Madras in 1973, Chandra made a vital contribution.
Chandrasekhar's 8 wicket haul at Auckland was instrumental in Gavaskar's first win as captain. When India created a world record making 406/4 in the memorable test at Port of Spain in 1976, he played his part with 8 wickets in the game. In the 1977-78 series in Australia, he bowled India to victory in consecutive Tests at Melbourne and Sydney.
Bhagwat Subramaniam Chandrasekhar was thus truly a great match-winner, the man who made 'King' Richards his bunny.
© CricInfo
This from Cricinfo Player Page -
TESTS
(career)
M I NO Runs HS Ave 100 50 Ct St
Batting & Fielding 58 80 39 167 22 4.07 0 0 25 0
Balls M R W Ave BBI 5 10 SR Econ
Bowling 15963 584 7199 242 29.74 8-79 16 2 65.9 2.70
Profile:
For a nation starved of wins abroad, Chandra was a rare jewel: he remains India's biggest matchwinner overseas with 42 wickets in five Tests. Batsmen didn't know quite what to expect from him and sometimes neither did Chandra himself, as he once admitted. An attack of polio in childhood left his right arm withered, but Chandra turned his handicap into an advantage. After a long, bouncing run-up, he delivered sharp googlies, spiteful topspinners and legbreaks at near medium-pace from the back of his hand with a whipping action. He could often be erratic, but no one among India's famed spin quartet was more likely to deliver an unplayable ball than Chandra. His 6 for 38 at The Oval in 1971 gave India their first series victory in England and he was instrumental in India’s first win in Australia in 1978, taking 12 for 104 at Melbourne. H Natarajan
Chandra: The man who made the 'King' his bunny
S Jagadish - 18 May 2000
On a gloomy August day at the Oval in 1971, a one man show was responsible for one of Indian cricket's finest hours. After the series win against the West Indies in their backyard, India played Illingworth's England side in England. While India were hardly world beaters, their opponents were a strong side. England had beaten West Indies and Australia, two of the best sides around at the time, and were unbeaten in Test cricket for over 3 years and 26 Tests.
With a strong batting lineup consisting of Brian Luckhurst, John Edrich, Keith Fletcher, Basil D'Oliveira and Alan Knott, England fancied their chances against an Indian side which had only Sunil Gavaskar who was still in his first international season, Ajit Wadekar and GR Viswanath. Even though Dilip Sardesai had made a memorable double hundred in the West Indies, he was at the end of his career. But India also had Chandra!
The rest, as the cliche goes, is history. Chandra ran through England to finish with 6/38 and match figures of 8/114. India then overcame the mandatory hiccups to win the Test by 4 wickets and the series by the margin of 1-0. There was no doubt about who India's man of the moment was, Bhagwat Chandrasekhar, who celebrates his 55th birthday today.
Chandra was termed a 'freak' bowler. He was also extremely unpredictable. His bowling ranged from the extremely unplayable to the downright mediocre. An attack of polio at birth left him with a weak right arm. However he fought the handicap to become one of India's best spinners ever.
He was not in the Bedi or Prasanna mould, buying the batsman's wicket by inviting him out of the crease to have a hit. Chandrasekhar bought his wickets by bowling at speeds which would make a medium pacer happy. His main wicket-taking ball was a skidding top-spinner. He also bowled googlies and rarely bowled the legbreak. He was an extremely attacking bowler. But at the same time, he has confessed that he himself did not know what the ball would do. Like Jeff Thomson once said about his own bowling, Chandra just trotted in and let it rip.
Chandrasekhar made his debut in 1963-64 against the visiting Englishmen led by Mike Smith. As a premonition of things to follow, he was dismissed for a duck. This was ironical considering he wanted to model himself on Richie Benaud, as an all-rounder. However he snared 4 wickets in the first innings and 1 in the second to finish with 5 wickets for the game. He got his first 5 wicket haul two years after his debut, 7/157 in a losing cause against the West Indies at Bombay.
After the Indian tour to Australia in 1967, he missed 4 years of international cricket. He sustained a leg injury during the Australian series and shortly after his return to India midway through the series, he was involved in a nasty scooter accident. Four years in the wilderness, he returned as part of Wadekar's Indian team to England in 1971. After that there was no looking back for Chandra.
In the 1974-75 series against the visiting West Indians he gave Vivian Richards a torrid time, snaring him twice on debut for 4 & 3. Coincidentally enough, Richards made 192 in the next match. But Chandra was dropped for that Test !
In 1979 when India toured England, Chandra had his man again. This time it was in a tour game against Somerset. Richards allegedly told wicket-keeper Surinder Khanna 'What has he been brought on for ?' when the acting captain Viswanath introduced Chandra into the attack a while after Richards started his innings. Predictably, Richards perished to Chandra's bowling. In fact, legend has it that when Richards came in to bat, Chandra welcomed him with the words 'Here is my bunny'. Such was Chandra's hold on Viv. He is probably the only bowler who can claim that honour !
When Chandra bowled, particularly at the Eden Gardens, the crowd used to get totally involved with the game. Chants of 'Chandra, Chandra' and 'Boowwlledd' filled the stadium as he ran in to deliver the ball . Most definitely, it would have been an unnerving experience for the batsman.
The most telling indicator of Chandrasekhar's contribution to Indian cricket in the 1970s has been the number of victories he played a major part in. In his 58 tests, he contributed to over 10 Indian victories. When India won at the Oval in 1971, he was the star. When India defeated England at Madras in 1973, Chandra made a vital contribution.
Chandrasekhar's 8 wicket haul at Auckland was instrumental in Gavaskar's first win as captain. When India created a world record making 406/4 in the memorable test at Port of Spain in 1976, he played his part with 8 wickets in the game. In the 1977-78 series in Australia, he bowled India to victory in consecutive Tests at Melbourne and Sydney.
Bhagwat Subramaniam Chandrasekhar was thus truly a great match-winner, the man who made 'King' Richards his bunny.
© CricInfo
Last edited:
lord_of_darkness
Cricket Web XI Moderator
Charl Willoughby
Arthur Mailey (Australia)
This from cricinfo player page -(Wisden obituary)
Profile:Wisden Obituary
Arthur Mailey, who died in hospital in Sydney on December 31, three days before his 82nd birthday, played as a leg-break and googly bowler in 21 Test matches for Australia between 1921 and 1926. In that time he took 99 wickets for his country, including 36 in the 1920–21 series against JWHT Douglas’s England team. That, like his nine wickets for 121 runs in the second innings of the fourth Test at Melbourne, remains a record for an Australian bowler against England.
Though sometimes paying the penalty for uncertainty of length, Mailey at his best was a difficult bowler to play. He spun the ball considerably and was always prepared to buy his wickets. As Wilfred Rhodes said of him: He never gave up. He would have nought for 100 and might finish with six for 130.
Mailey visited England twice with Australian sides. Under WW Armstrong in 1921, he took in all matches 146 wickets at an average cost of 19.61 and when HL Collins was captain in 1926 and the leg trouble suffered by the fast bowler, JM Gregory, thrust extra work upon him, Mailey dismissed 141 batsmen for 18.70 runs each. His most noteworthy achievement outside Tests was the taking of all ten wickets for 66 runs in the Gloucestershire second innings at Cheltenham in 1921, a performance which inspired the title of his autobiography in 1958: Ten for 66 And All That.
His slight physique did not prevent him from bowling for long spells and in 1926 his feats included 9 wickets for 86 runs v Lancashire at Liverpool and 7 for 74 and 4 for 81 in the second meeting with Lancashire at Old Trafford; 7 for 110 and 8 for 83 v Nottinghamshire; 6 for 45 and 5 for 86 v Hampshire and 5 for 29 and 5 for 58 v Northamptonshire. Mailey also toured South Africa in 1921, taking in the three Test matches 13 wickets for 11.76 runs apiece.
Mailey began his working life as a labourer, but became a writer on cricket of note and humour, a cartoonist and, late in his life, a painter in oils. After his playing days he made frequent visits to England, South Africa and New Zealand with touring Test teams.
Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack 1968
This from cricinfo player page -(Wisden obituary)
Profile:Wisden Obituary
Arthur Mailey, who died in hospital in Sydney on December 31, three days before his 82nd birthday, played as a leg-break and googly bowler in 21 Test matches for Australia between 1921 and 1926. In that time he took 99 wickets for his country, including 36 in the 1920–21 series against JWHT Douglas’s England team. That, like his nine wickets for 121 runs in the second innings of the fourth Test at Melbourne, remains a record for an Australian bowler against England.
Though sometimes paying the penalty for uncertainty of length, Mailey at his best was a difficult bowler to play. He spun the ball considerably and was always prepared to buy his wickets. As Wilfred Rhodes said of him: He never gave up. He would have nought for 100 and might finish with six for 130.
Mailey visited England twice with Australian sides. Under WW Armstrong in 1921, he took in all matches 146 wickets at an average cost of 19.61 and when HL Collins was captain in 1926 and the leg trouble suffered by the fast bowler, JM Gregory, thrust extra work upon him, Mailey dismissed 141 batsmen for 18.70 runs each. His most noteworthy achievement outside Tests was the taking of all ten wickets for 66 runs in the Gloucestershire second innings at Cheltenham in 1921, a performance which inspired the title of his autobiography in 1958: Ten for 66 And All That.
His slight physique did not prevent him from bowling for long spells and in 1926 his feats included 9 wickets for 86 runs v Lancashire at Liverpool and 7 for 74 and 4 for 81 in the second meeting with Lancashire at Old Trafford; 7 for 110 and 8 for 83 v Nottinghamshire; 6 for 45 and 5 for 86 v Hampshire and 5 for 29 and 5 for 58 v Northamptonshire. Mailey also toured South Africa in 1921, taking in the three Test matches 13 wickets for 11.76 runs apiece.
Mailey began his working life as a labourer, but became a writer on cricket of note and humour, a cartoonist and, late in his life, a painter in oils. After his playing days he made frequent visits to England, South Africa and New Zealand with touring Test teams.
Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack 1968
masterblaster
International Captain
Michael Procter (SA)
Peter May (England) (Wisden Cricketer of the Year 1952)
This from Cricinfo Player Page -
Profile:
Peter Barker Howard May, CBE, died at his home in Hampshire on December 27, 1994, four days short of his 65th birthday. In the 1950s PBH May – the initials were part of the style of the man – came to represent the beau ideal of English batsmanship and sportsmanship. He was tall and handsome with a batting style that was close to classical, and he was the hero of a generation of schoolboys. To his contemporaries at Charterhouse he was a heroic figure much earlier: from a very young age it was clear that he was going to play for England and he glided towards greatness in an effortless-looking manner.
Peter May was born at Reading on December 31, 1929. He was an instinctive cricketer, though there was no background of the game in his family. When he was 13, the headmaster of Charterhouse barred him from the First XI for his own good, but as a 14-year-old in 1944 he made 108 against Harrow, an innings that had an extraordinary impact on the school. In four years in the school First XI he made 1,794 runs, averaging 54.36. He was advised, but not all that much, by the former England player George Geary. By 1947, his last year at school, he was clearly the best schoolboy batsman in the country, scoring an unbeaten 183 against Eton and 148 and 146 in the representative matches at Lord’s.
He then had to do two years’ national service as Writer May of the Royal Navy – the scorecard abbreviation Wtr puzzling at least one MCC member who thought he must be the mess waiter. By his second year, his clerical duties were being heavily interspersed with cricket and in 1949 he played enough to come third in the national averages behind Hardstaff and Hutton. That autumn he went up to Cambridge: in 1950 their batting side was as strong as any in the country and he was not immediately dominant, but he scored an unbeaten 227 against Hampshire, stepped into the Surrey team and quickly won his county cap.
By 1951 he had made enough runs in every type of cricket – including a century for the Gentlemen– to be picked for the Fourth Test against South Africa at Headingley. He scored 138, an innings that seemed like a revelation. He played in all four Tests against India in 1952 and, though he was dropped for the three middle Ashes Tests of 1953, he returned to score 39 and 37, important in context, at the Oval and was picked for the West Indies tour, where he made his second Test century, a far more dogged 135 on a matting pitch at Port-of-Spain to earn a draw.
This secured May’s place once and for all, and he became a crucial member of two of the most successful teams English cricket has ever seen: Surrey, who won the Championship every year between 1952 and 1958, and an England team that never lost a series in the same period. May adapted his method and his mental approach to Test cricket and moved from being a promising batsman to a great one. Once Gubby Allen saw him get out at Fenner’s and muttered: "That was the most unconscious stroke I have ever seen." After his Headingley century Allen sent him a telegram: "Charge of unconsciousness unconditionally withdrawn".
In Australia in 1954–55, May was Hutton’s vice-captain, and the following year, when Hutton became ill, inherited the leadership. He captained England in 41 Tests, still a record despite the later growth of Test cricket, and was an unchallenged figure of authority. England won 20 of those Tests and lost only ten. May’s stature as a batsman increased each year, even on the indifferent pitches of 1956. In the First Test at Edgbaston against West Indies in 1957, he scored 285 not out, sharing a stand of 411, England’s highest ever, with Colin Cowdrey, saving the match and blunting Sonny Ramadhin’s mastery of English batsmen once and for all. England went on to win the series 3–0. In 1958, in the wettest, most bowler-friendly summer of the century, he averaged almost 64, 17 more than any other batsman. In both these years, he followed on where Stuart Surridge had left off in 1956 and captained Surrey to the Championship.
That was May’s apogee. England went to Australia in 1958–59 as hot favourites, but were met by bowlers widely suspected of throwing, and slumped to a 4–0 defeat. May was greatly upset by newspaper criticism of the presence on tour of his fiancée, Virginia Gilligan, especially when one report said they had been secretly married. They actually married that April, and from then on his enthusiasm for the game semed to wane. He missed much of the 1959 season with an abscess, which also forced him home from the West Indies tour that winter. It was 1961 before he returned to cricket and, when he was bowled round his legs by Richie Benaud at Old Trafford, his dismissal sealed the fate of the Ashes. Three weeks later he played his last Test and in 1962 effectively retired from first-class cricket, though there was always the hope, in other minds, that he might return, and Wisden delayed its retirement tribute until 1971.
May became an insurance broker and underwriter at Lloyd’s and concentrated on his growing family: four girls, all of them sharing their mother’s love of horses, which their father, though no horseman, happily took on. For many years his cricketing involvement was low-profile, though he served as a Test selector from 1965 to 1968, and was president of MCC in 1980–81. However, in 1982 he agreed to return to the limelight by becoming chairman of selectors with a specific brief to get a grip on the players’ behaviour. He never gained a rapport with a new generation of cricketers and did not seem to have much disposition to choose between them. Had he stuck to the original plan and retired after the 1985 Ashes series, his reputation would have been largely undamaged, but he stayed on until 1988, working through four captains in the last summer alone. By the end, players were being picked and dropped with bewildering rapidity.
England were less strong relative to other countries in the 1980s than in the 1950s. Both as a batsman and as a captain, May had the advantage that the best bowlers were nearly always on his side. His failure against Heine and Adcock in South Africa in 1956–57 has led some to wonder whether he could have coped with the sustained battering that modern batsmen receive. But, 18 months earlier in England, he dealt with the same bowlers so effectively that he was close to a century in every match. Richie Benaud, perhaps his most formidable opponent, called him not merely the greatest English batsman to emerge since the war – which is the conventional judgment – but the only great one. As a captain, May was a hard but unfailingly courteous competitor. He was not an imaginative tactician but his resources meant this was not a serious disadvantage. He was helped too by the presence of a great chairman of selectors in Gubby Allen.
Peter May will be remembered best as a batsman, upright in everything he did, especially the on-drive which, famously, he perfected as a schoolboy. In 66 Tests he scored 4,537 runs at 46.77; in first-class cricket he scored 27,592 runs at 51.00 with 282 catches. He scored 85 centuries, his early retirement preventing him becoming the first amateur since WG Grace to score a hundred hundreds. His gifts were sublime, indeed mysterious, and he bore them with honour, modesty and distinction. The fear that we will never see his like again meant his early death was felt all the more keenly.
Wisden Cricketers' Almanack
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Peter Barker Howard May, CBE, died at his home in Hampshire on December 27, 1994, four days short of his 65th birthday. In the 1950s PBH May – the initials were part of the style of the man – came to represent the beau ideal of English batsmanship and sportsmanship. He was tall and handsome with a batting style that was close to classical, and he was the hero of a generation of schoolboys. To his contemporaries at Charterhouse he was a heroic figure much earlier: from a very young age it was clear that he was going to play for England and he glided towards greatness in an effortless-looking manner.
Peter May was born at Reading on December 31, 1929. He was an instinctive cricketer, though there was no background of the game in his family. When he was 13, the headmaster of Charterhouse barred him from the First XI for his own good, but as a 14-year-old in 1944 he made 108 against Harrow, an innings that had an extraordinary impact on the school. In four years in the school First XI he made 1,794 runs, averaging 54.36. He was advised, but not all that much, by the former England player George Geary. By 1947, his last year at school, he was clearly the best schoolboy batsman in the country, scoring an unbeaten 183 against Eton and 148 and 146 in the representative matches at Lord’s.
He then had to do two years’ national service as Writer May of the Royal Navy – the scorecard abbreviation Wtr puzzling at least one MCC member who thought he must be the mess waiter. By his second year, his clerical duties were being heavily interspersed with cricket and in 1949 he played enough to come third in the national averages behind Hardstaff and Hutton. That autumn he went up to Cambridge: in 1950 their batting side was as strong as any in the country and he was not immediately dominant, but he scored an unbeaten 227 against Hampshire, stepped into the Surrey team and quickly won his county cap.
By 1951 he had made enough runs in every type of cricket – including a century for the Gentlemen– to be picked for the Fourth Test against South Africa at Headingley. He scored 138, an innings that seemed like a revelation. He played in all four Tests against India in 1952 and, though he was dropped for the three middle Ashes Tests of 1953, he returned to score 39 and 37, important in context, at the Oval and was picked for the West Indies tour, where he made his second Test century, a far more dogged 135 on a matting pitch at Port-of-Spain to earn a draw.
This secured May’s place once and for all, and he became a crucial member of two of the most successful teams English cricket has ever seen: Surrey, who won the Championship every year between 1952 and 1958, and an England team that never lost a series in the same period. May adapted his method and his mental approach to Test cricket and moved from being a promising batsman to a great one. Once Gubby Allen saw him get out at Fenner’s and muttered: "That was the most unconscious stroke I have ever seen." After his Headingley century Allen sent him a telegram: "Charge of unconsciousness unconditionally withdrawn".
In Australia in 1954–55, May was Hutton’s vice-captain, and the following year, when Hutton became ill, inherited the leadership. He captained England in 41 Tests, still a record despite the later growth of Test cricket, and was an unchallenged figure of authority. England won 20 of those Tests and lost only ten. May’s stature as a batsman increased each year, even on the indifferent pitches of 1956. In the First Test at Edgbaston against West Indies in 1957, he scored 285 not out, sharing a stand of 411, England’s highest ever, with Colin Cowdrey, saving the match and blunting Sonny Ramadhin’s mastery of English batsmen once and for all. England went on to win the series 3–0. In 1958, in the wettest, most bowler-friendly summer of the century, he averaged almost 64, 17 more than any other batsman. In both these years, he followed on where Stuart Surridge had left off in 1956 and captained Surrey to the Championship.
That was May’s apogee. England went to Australia in 1958–59 as hot favourites, but were met by bowlers widely suspected of throwing, and slumped to a 4–0 defeat. May was greatly upset by newspaper criticism of the presence on tour of his fiancée, Virginia Gilligan, especially when one report said they had been secretly married. They actually married that April, and from then on his enthusiasm for the game semed to wane. He missed much of the 1959 season with an abscess, which also forced him home from the West Indies tour that winter. It was 1961 before he returned to cricket and, when he was bowled round his legs by Richie Benaud at Old Trafford, his dismissal sealed the fate of the Ashes. Three weeks later he played his last Test and in 1962 effectively retired from first-class cricket, though there was always the hope, in other minds, that he might return, and Wisden delayed its retirement tribute until 1971.
May became an insurance broker and underwriter at Lloyd’s and concentrated on his growing family: four girls, all of them sharing their mother’s love of horses, which their father, though no horseman, happily took on. For many years his cricketing involvement was low-profile, though he served as a Test selector from 1965 to 1968, and was president of MCC in 1980–81. However, in 1982 he agreed to return to the limelight by becoming chairman of selectors with a specific brief to get a grip on the players’ behaviour. He never gained a rapport with a new generation of cricketers and did not seem to have much disposition to choose between them. Had he stuck to the original plan and retired after the 1985 Ashes series, his reputation would have been largely undamaged, but he stayed on until 1988, working through four captains in the last summer alone. By the end, players were being picked and dropped with bewildering rapidity.
England were less strong relative to other countries in the 1980s than in the 1950s. Both as a batsman and as a captain, May had the advantage that the best bowlers were nearly always on his side. His failure against Heine and Adcock in South Africa in 1956–57 has led some to wonder whether he could have coped with the sustained battering that modern batsmen receive. But, 18 months earlier in England, he dealt with the same bowlers so effectively that he was close to a century in every match. Richie Benaud, perhaps his most formidable opponent, called him not merely the greatest English batsman to emerge since the war – which is the conventional judgment – but the only great one. As a captain, May was a hard but unfailingly courteous competitor. He was not an imaginative tactician but his resources meant this was not a serious disadvantage. He was helped too by the presence of a great chairman of selectors in Gubby Allen.
Peter May will be remembered best as a batsman, upright in everything he did, especially the on-drive which, famously, he perfected as a schoolboy. In 66 Tests he scored 4,537 runs at 46.77; in first-class cricket he scored 27,592 runs at 51.00 with 282 catches. He scored 85 centuries, his early retirement preventing him becoming the first amateur since WG Grace to score a hundred hundreds. His gifts were sublime, indeed mysterious, and he bore them with honour, modesty and distinction. The fear that we will never see his like again meant his early death was felt all the more keenly.
Wisden Cricketers' Almanack
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The Baconator
International Vice-Captain
ronnie irani
Langeveldt
Soutie
Indika de Saram
masterblaster
International Captain
Ill assume I start with D
Damien Fleming (Aus)
Damien Fleming (Aus)
Reverend David Sheppard (England) Wisden Cricketer of the year 1953
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Mental tenacity drove David Sheppard to the top. A tall, graceful, off-sided batsman, he possessed limitless powers of concentration, and became a leading figure in what one might term the Cambridge Movement of the early 1950s. In 1952, as Cambridge captain, Sheppard topped the first-class averages with 2262 runs at 64.62, having made his Test debut against West Indies two years previously. He captained England in two Tests in 1954, and against Australia in 1956 he became the first ordained minister to play for England, scoring a memorable 113 in the process. Inevitably, his first-class appearances became fewer, but in 1962 he made 100 at Lord’s in the last Gentlemen v Players match, and that winter he toured Australasia again, his century at Melbourne contributing to England’s only victory of the series. One or two unfortunate dropped catches, however, led to Fred Trueman’s affectionate jibe: “It’s a pity t'Reverend don’t put his hands together more often in t’field.”
David Sheppard was an inspiring organiser of the Mayflower Centre in London, and was Bishop of Woolwich before becoming Bishop of Liverpool in 1975.
Christopher Martin-Jenkins
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Mental tenacity drove David Sheppard to the top. A tall, graceful, off-sided batsman, he possessed limitless powers of concentration, and became a leading figure in what one might term the Cambridge Movement of the early 1950s. In 1952, as Cambridge captain, Sheppard topped the first-class averages with 2262 runs at 64.62, having made his Test debut against West Indies two years previously. He captained England in two Tests in 1954, and against Australia in 1956 he became the first ordained minister to play for England, scoring a memorable 113 in the process. Inevitably, his first-class appearances became fewer, but in 1962 he made 100 at Lord’s in the last Gentlemen v Players match, and that winter he toured Australasia again, his century at Melbourne contributing to England’s only victory of the series. One or two unfortunate dropped catches, however, led to Fred Trueman’s affectionate jibe: “It’s a pity t'Reverend don’t put his hands together more often in t’field.”
David Sheppard was an inspiring organiser of the Mayflower Centre in London, and was Bishop of Woolwich before becoming Bishop of Liverpool in 1975. Christopher Martin-Jenkins
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Arthur Gilligan (England) Wisden Cricketer of the year 1924
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Arthur Edward Robert Gilligan who died at his home at Pulborough, aged 81, was one of the most popular and inspiring captains that England or Sussex ever had. Those whose memories go back that far will always feel that his tour of Australia in 1924–25, although England won only one Test, was the moment when we first had cause to hope that the dark days were ending, that soon we would be once more competing with Australia on level terms. In two or three seasons by his insistence on fielding and on attacking cricket and by his own superb example he raised Sussex from being nothing in particular to one of the biggest draws in England.
For all too short a span, before injury reduced his effectiveness, he was himself an exciting cricketer—the best really fast bowler we had produced for many years—though even then we did not quite put him among the great, a batsman of whom one might say that, however low he went in, no match was irredeemably lost until he was out for the second time, and one of the finest mid-offs anyone could remember.
But even at the height of his career his services to cricket did not stop there. Unless he was touring abroad in the winter, he was touring Sussex, speaking at dinners, lecturing and doing all he could to spread the enthusiasm for the game that he himself felt; and this continued for years after his retirement. His first-class career ended in 1932—indeed he played little cricket of any kind afterwards—but he went on working tirelessly for Sussex cricket and, when opportunity offered, for England.
He had been Chairman of Sussex and in 1967 was President of the M.C.C. He remained fit and active to the end. Throughout the summer of 1976 he might be found watching at Hove or Lord’s or Arundel, as clear in mind and alert as ever, endlessly appreciative of good cricket and showing the utmost kindness and encouragement to the young, but equally uncompromising in his condemnation of anything which savoured of sharp practice or ill temper. In between he was still playing golf regularly at Pulborough, where he had gone round in under his age, and in the winter he was off to follow an England side in Australia or the West Indies, or to ski on the continent.
At Dulwich, where he also distinguished himself as a runner and a hurdler, he was four years in the XI and Captain in the last two, 1913 and 1914, in both of which seasons he played for Surrey II in the holidays. The war stopped his cricket till 1919, when he got his blue at Cambridge and in the second innings against Oxford took six for 52. This was widely acclaimed as the best fast bowling seen in the match for many years. For Cambridge against Sussex that year he created some sensation by making 101 going in last; he and J. H. Naumann, who like himself later played for Sussex, put on 177 in sixty-five minutes. However it must be admitted that Sussex had, as not infrequently at this time, a very weak bowling side.
Later Gilligan played three matches for Surrey, but in 1920, after again playing for Cambridge, he transferred to Sussex, for whom he continued to play till 1932, captaining them from 1922 to 1929. At first he was only a useful county player, but in 1922 he jumped right to the front, taking 135 wickets with an average of 18.75 and playing for the first time for the Gentlemen. That winter he went with the M.C.C. to South Africa and next summer for the only time did the double.
In 1924 he was picked to captain England and in the first Test at Edgbaston he and Tate bowled out South Africa on a good wicket for 30, Gilligan’s share being six for 7; in the follow-on he took five for 83. There can be no doubt that just at that period these two were the most formidable combination in the world. A week or two earlier in consecutive matches for Sussex they had bowled out two of the strongest batting sides in England, Surrey for 53 at the Oval and Middlesex for 41 at Lord’s, Gilligan on this occasion taking eight for 25. At the end of June that year he had taken seventy-four wickets at fifteen runs each.
At the beginning of July, batting for Gentlemen v. Players at The Oval, he was struck over the heart by a rising ball from Pearson of Worcestershire, a medium pace off-spinner and a man universally liked and respected. It was clear that he was badly hurt, but no one guessed how badly. He undoubtedly increased the damage by insisting on going on playing and even more by scoring 112 in the second innings in an hour and a half and adding 134 for the last wicket with Michael Falcon. As he himself wrote some years later, That was probably the worst thing I ever did. He was never able to bowl really fast again and indeed was never more than a change bowler. When he captained England in Australia that winter, his ten wickets in the Test cost him 51.90 runs each and his highest score was 31. Except for his brilliant fielding and inspiring captaincy he was a passenger. In 1926 he was a Selector and the following winter made his last tour abroad, captaining the M.C.C. in India, not then a Test-playing country.
At his best, Gilligan was a genuinely fast bowler, who bowled at the stumps or for catches in the slips. His action may have been slightly low, but he was accurate and regarded it as a cardinal sin to bowl short. He was an attacking batsman, who believed especially that fast bowlers needed hitting. His twelve centuries in first-class cricket must have been scored at an average rate of over a run a minute. Nearly all of them he made going in late, when runs were desperately wanted. Moreover, they were usually against strong sides—two against Lancashire, two against Kent, one each against Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire, Surrey and the Players. At mid-off he has had few rivals.
As a captain, he may not have been in the top rank of tacticians, but no one excelled him in getting the best out of his side and inspiring them in the field. From every point of view he was a cricketer with whom England could well do now.
After he retired from active cricket he became a popular radio commentator on Test matches and will be especially remembered for his partnership with another much loved cricketer, Victor Richardson. Gilligan was, as may be imagined, a master of the diplomatic comment if any tiresome incident occurred.
He was prominent too in the golfing world, being President of the English Golf Union in 1959 and also, up to the time of his death, of the County Cricketers’ Golfing Society. His two brothers were only less distinguished as cricketers than himself. F. W., the eldest, who played against him in his two ‘Varsity matches, captained Oxford and kept wicket for Essex for many years in the holidays, while the youngest, A. H. H., succeeded him as Captain of Sussex and took an M.C.C. side to Australia and New Zealand in 1929; his daughter married Peter May.
The three brothers were in the Dulwich XI together in 1913. Well might a newspaper of that day say, The Gilligans of Dulwich seem destined to become as famous in sport as the Fords of Repton, the Lytteltons of Eton and the Fosters of Malvern. Indeed their only rivals among their contemporaries were the Ashtons of Winchester and the Bryans.
Wisden Cricketers' Almanack
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Arthur Edward Robert Gilligan who died at his home at Pulborough, aged 81, was one of the most popular and inspiring captains that England or Sussex ever had. Those whose memories go back that far will always feel that his tour of Australia in 1924–25, although England won only one Test, was the moment when we first had cause to hope that the dark days were ending, that soon we would be once more competing with Australia on level terms. In two or three seasons by his insistence on fielding and on attacking cricket and by his own superb example he raised Sussex from being nothing in particular to one of the biggest draws in England.
For all too short a span, before injury reduced his effectiveness, he was himself an exciting cricketer—the best really fast bowler we had produced for many years—though even then we did not quite put him among the great, a batsman of whom one might say that, however low he went in, no match was irredeemably lost until he was out for the second time, and one of the finest mid-offs anyone could remember.
But even at the height of his career his services to cricket did not stop there. Unless he was touring abroad in the winter, he was touring Sussex, speaking at dinners, lecturing and doing all he could to spread the enthusiasm for the game that he himself felt; and this continued for years after his retirement. His first-class career ended in 1932—indeed he played little cricket of any kind afterwards—but he went on working tirelessly for Sussex cricket and, when opportunity offered, for England.
He had been Chairman of Sussex and in 1967 was President of the M.C.C. He remained fit and active to the end. Throughout the summer of 1976 he might be found watching at Hove or Lord’s or Arundel, as clear in mind and alert as ever, endlessly appreciative of good cricket and showing the utmost kindness and encouragement to the young, but equally uncompromising in his condemnation of anything which savoured of sharp practice or ill temper. In between he was still playing golf regularly at Pulborough, where he had gone round in under his age, and in the winter he was off to follow an England side in Australia or the West Indies, or to ski on the continent.
At Dulwich, where he also distinguished himself as a runner and a hurdler, he was four years in the XI and Captain in the last two, 1913 and 1914, in both of which seasons he played for Surrey II in the holidays. The war stopped his cricket till 1919, when he got his blue at Cambridge and in the second innings against Oxford took six for 52. This was widely acclaimed as the best fast bowling seen in the match for many years. For Cambridge against Sussex that year he created some sensation by making 101 going in last; he and J. H. Naumann, who like himself later played for Sussex, put on 177 in sixty-five minutes. However it must be admitted that Sussex had, as not infrequently at this time, a very weak bowling side.
Later Gilligan played three matches for Surrey, but in 1920, after again playing for Cambridge, he transferred to Sussex, for whom he continued to play till 1932, captaining them from 1922 to 1929. At first he was only a useful county player, but in 1922 he jumped right to the front, taking 135 wickets with an average of 18.75 and playing for the first time for the Gentlemen. That winter he went with the M.C.C. to South Africa and next summer for the only time did the double.
In 1924 he was picked to captain England and in the first Test at Edgbaston he and Tate bowled out South Africa on a good wicket for 30, Gilligan’s share being six for 7; in the follow-on he took five for 83. There can be no doubt that just at that period these two were the most formidable combination in the world. A week or two earlier in consecutive matches for Sussex they had bowled out two of the strongest batting sides in England, Surrey for 53 at the Oval and Middlesex for 41 at Lord’s, Gilligan on this occasion taking eight for 25. At the end of June that year he had taken seventy-four wickets at fifteen runs each.
At the beginning of July, batting for Gentlemen v. Players at The Oval, he was struck over the heart by a rising ball from Pearson of Worcestershire, a medium pace off-spinner and a man universally liked and respected. It was clear that he was badly hurt, but no one guessed how badly. He undoubtedly increased the damage by insisting on going on playing and even more by scoring 112 in the second innings in an hour and a half and adding 134 for the last wicket with Michael Falcon. As he himself wrote some years later, That was probably the worst thing I ever did. He was never able to bowl really fast again and indeed was never more than a change bowler. When he captained England in Australia that winter, his ten wickets in the Test cost him 51.90 runs each and his highest score was 31. Except for his brilliant fielding and inspiring captaincy he was a passenger. In 1926 he was a Selector and the following winter made his last tour abroad, captaining the M.C.C. in India, not then a Test-playing country.
At his best, Gilligan was a genuinely fast bowler, who bowled at the stumps or for catches in the slips. His action may have been slightly low, but he was accurate and regarded it as a cardinal sin to bowl short. He was an attacking batsman, who believed especially that fast bowlers needed hitting. His twelve centuries in first-class cricket must have been scored at an average rate of over a run a minute. Nearly all of them he made going in late, when runs were desperately wanted. Moreover, they were usually against strong sides—two against Lancashire, two against Kent, one each against Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire, Surrey and the Players. At mid-off he has had few rivals.
As a captain, he may not have been in the top rank of tacticians, but no one excelled him in getting the best out of his side and inspiring them in the field. From every point of view he was a cricketer with whom England could well do now.
After he retired from active cricket he became a popular radio commentator on Test matches and will be especially remembered for his partnership with another much loved cricketer, Victor Richardson. Gilligan was, as may be imagined, a master of the diplomatic comment if any tiresome incident occurred.
He was prominent too in the golfing world, being President of the English Golf Union in 1959 and also, up to the time of his death, of the County Cricketers’ Golfing Society. His two brothers were only less distinguished as cricketers than himself. F. W., the eldest, who played against him in his two ‘Varsity matches, captained Oxford and kept wicket for Essex for many years in the holidays, while the youngest, A. H. H., succeeded him as Captain of Sussex and took an M.C.C. side to Australia and New Zealand in 1929; his daughter married Peter May.
The three brothers were in the Dulwich XI together in 1913. Well might a newspaper of that day say, The Gilligans of Dulwich seem destined to become as famous in sport as the Fords of Repton, the Lytteltons of Eton and the Fosters of Malvern. Indeed their only rivals among their contemporaries were the Ashtons of Winchester and the Bryans.
Wisden Cricketers' Almanack
