A Man of Honour

Geoffrey Tebbutt, an Australian cricket writer who saw plenty of Bill Woodfull, once described him as perhaps the most difficult First Class cricketer to write about. It is an understandable comment in many ways, but perhaps an expression of frustration as much as anything. After all there were many interesting matches that Woodfull took part in, and he was Australia’s captain in the notorious Bodyline Tests of 1932/33, without a shadow of doubt the series that has spawned more words than any other.

What made Woodfull a tricky man to commit pen to paper about was his enormous integrity. Not perhaps of itself a reason to cause writers to back off, but part of that was that he kept his opinions to himself, not only during his career but for the rest of his life. When I first decided to write this feature I was hoping to explain Woodfull’s views on and reaction to the Bodyline crisis, but there really isn’t very much to be said. He never wrote an autobiography and, not unusually for books in that genre, the one book he did write, an instructional one, shed no light on the real Bill Woodfull.

Writers aren’t assisted either by the way that Woodfull played the game. He didn’t bowl, and was not a batsman who set pulses racing. As a fielder there are no references that I have found to his being a good fielder, nor to his being a poor one. Steadiness, reliability and a rigid adherence to the coaching book rather than flair and unorthodoxy were the foundations of Woodfull’s game.

AG ‘Johnny’ Moyes was another who, like Tebbutt, watched Woodfull throughout his career. His early impressions of the young Woodfull were that he was a man who would always struggle to score runs, even though he possessed a remarkably sound defence. Of his technique in those days Moyes wrote he scarcely moved his bat from the popping crease, and his backswing was merely a gesture to convention, like a man opening a door an inch or two, then closing it hurriedly so nothing could enter.

As he developed Woodfull did score heavily, but nothing much changed. England’s captain on the 1924/25 trip to Australia, Arthur Gilligan, commented that his two-eyed stance, short back-lift, an absence of mannerisms, fads or moods, made him one of the least spectacular cricketers. In summary he concluded that Woodfull succeeded by sheer determination.

What turned Woodfull into a hugely effective scorer was a growing maturity. He did swing his bat a little harder, but the impeccable defence never wavered. What he learnt was the art of placement, how to angle his bat, and to make the most of his exceptionally strong wrists. Australian historian Jack Pollard wrote his runs came from firm clips in front of the wicket and a range of pushes and deflections. In his own way Woodfull was always looking for runs, and was a master at rotating the strike, but his reluctance to take risks is well illustrated by the number of boundaries he recorded.

At the Oval in 1926, against Surrey Woodfull top scored in Australia’s first innings 395 with 118. His only four was his last scoring stroke, the first time on record when a man had reached 100 without a single boundary to his name. In the final Test of the 1928/29 Ashes series, when Australia recorded a consolation victory against Percy Chapman’s side at the MCG Woodfull’s 102 contained just three fours. At the same ground three years later against South Africa Woodfull made his highest Test score, 161, and there were just five fours.

A factor in the way Woodfull batted might well have been a childhood attack of rheumatic fever. The fact of the disease was certainly what prevented his acceptance when he applied for active service in both world wars. Those who saw him play talk of his stiff shouldered approach to batting with his bat resembling a pendulum on the end of his arms. In addition his movement of his feet was often described as shuffling, and jumping out to drive in the manner of Victor Trumper was certainly not part of Woodfull’s game.

Over the years Woodfull acquired a number of nicknames as a result of the way he batted. ‘Old Steadfast’ and ‘The Worm Killer’ were two of them, but perhaps the best known was ‘The Unbowlable’. In fact a close look at his record indicates that he was as vulnerable to being bowled as anyone, and indeed in his final series in England in 1934 he was bowled on five of the seven occasions when a bowler took his wicket. The ball swung and seamed rather more in England of course, and it seems likely that the nickname was prompted more by his record in minor cricket than at First Class level, although a determination to guard his wicket always seems to have been uppermost in his mind.

It was 1922 before a 24 year old Woodfull first appeared in a First Class match. The lateness of his arrival was due to his teaching job preventing him playing in Melbourne district cricket, a pre-requisite for selection for the state side. He changed jobs in 1922 and it was that move that opened up the First Class arena to him.

Woodfull took the step up to the higher level in his stride and scored a century in only his second match, albeit a non-shield encounter against Western Australia. By the 1925/26 season he was firmly established and despite an unremarkable performance in the official trial match that was played to assist in selecting the party to tour England in 1926 he went through the season with an average of over 60. His was the last name selected for the side, captained by ‘Horseshoe’ Collins.

At the end of the tour England succeeded, by taking victory in the final Test after four draws, in regaining the Ashes for the first time since the war. So there was disappointment for Woodfull, although on a personal level the tour was a triumph. He became the first maiden tourist to average more than 50 in an English summer, and his final record of 1,672 runs at 57.65 made him the leading batsman in the side. He was into his stride right away, with 201 against Essex, followed by that 118 against Surrey. He was named one of Wisden’s Five Cricketers of the Year.

The Almanack stated that Woodfull possessed unlimited patience, he watches the ball most carefully, plays with a very straight bat and gets remarkable power in the strokes he plays so late. Three former Ashes captains wrote accounts of the tour. Of Woodfull Monty Noble observed the more one gets to know him the greater one likes him. Woodfull is a teetotaller and a non-smoker, but, above all, he is a fighter. That last quality has been proved again and again with big scores made in the most adverse conditions. ‘Plum’ Warner was straight to the point; He is a terribly difficult batsman to get out. Lastly there was Gilligan who, as noted, had already seen Woodfull’s qualities first hand. There is something of the ‘I told you so’ about his praise of Woodfull in his summary of the tour, and he looked back to an innings of 60 he had played against his own side on a treacherous Melbourne sticky, and made the assessment that Woodfull had improved by 50 per cent since then.

Under Percy Chapman in 1928/29 England retained the Ashes with a convincing 4-1 win but again Woodfull stood firm against them. He averaged over 50 for the series and scored centuries in the second, third and fifth Tests. On two occasions Woodfull carried his bat against the English, and it would surely have been three had not Jack Ryder declared with nine wickets down to save exposing 50 year old rabbit Bert ‘Dainty’ Ironmonger to Harold Larwood. It must have been a tricky decision for Ryder – Woodfull was unbeaten on 275 at the time, and never did make a triple century.

In addition to leading Victoria Ryder was also Australia’s captain, a position he relinquished after the 1928/29 defeat, so Australia needed a new captain for 1930. Woodfull cannot have been a difficult choice. With the bat his figures were all but the same as in 1926, 1,434 runs at 57.36, although he was not the leading Australian this time. Alan Kippax bettered his average by a tiny margin, and Don Bradman by more than 40. There was only one Test century, but he went past 50 three times as well to average 57.50 for the series. Wisden’s verdict on the captaincy question was by his tact, advice and unfailing spirit, Woodfull welded the men into a first rate combination. On his batting the Almanack observed that he was even more resolute than before, although an increase in his repertoire of strokes was also noted.

In his next season at home Woodfull struggled uncharacteristically. Australia won their first ever series against West Indies 4-1 but Woodfull was down the order and averaged only 34. There were just a couple of fifties, but returning to his opening berth improved his form. It was only a temporary blip however as in the following season, when South Africa visited Australia for the first time in more than 20 years Woodfull averaged more than 70 in the 5-0 victory.

And then there was 1932/33. Woodfull’s batting was undoubtedly affected by his traumatic experiences against Jardine’s men. His average in the Tests and for the season as a whole was just 33. It had never before dipped below 42 and was in the forties only twice. Bodyline had been trialled before the first Test and Woodfull’s slow footwork meant that he had been hit then. He was also hit in the first Test, won comfortably by England by ten wickets, but from which, in light of Stan McCabe’s rousing 187 not out in the first innings when he flayed Larwood and Voce to the leg side boundary, the Bradmanless Australians emerged with not all their confidence destroyed.

After he had scored just 7 and 0 he selectors did not confirm Woodfull’s appointment as player or leader for the second Test until shortly before it began, something that even Jardine expressed disquiet about. Woodfull with the bat enjoyed a little more success this time, scoring 10 and 26, but on a helpful wicket the Australian spinners won the day and, the runs they needed to have something to bowl at having been scored by Bradman, to the Australian supporters all appeared reasonably well again.

Some of the Australians, most particularly vice-captain Vic Richardson, wanted to retaliate. The story goes that Australia did not have the firepower to fight back, although Richardson in particular never accepted that. What certainly is true is that Australia had no genuinely fast bowler who could begin to match Larwood and Voce for accuracy, but there were certainly a few speedsters about. Above all there was the Queensland aboriginal Eddie Gilbert, who Bradman thought the quickest he ever faced, but Gilbert had a questionable action and did not have a good season anyway. A better bet might have been Aussie Rules star Laurie Nash, who was certainly Richardson’s choice. Nash had played once against South Africa and had played with some success against the tourists in the game where Bodyline was initially unveiled. He certainly wanted to retaliate, and at the best of times enjoyed a reputation as a maverick, so it is hardly surprising Woodfull didn’t want him selected.

In the final Test Harry ‘Bull’ Alexander came in to the side for what was to prove his only Test. Distinctly quick, if nowhere near Larwood’s pace, ‘Bull’ played with Woodfull at Victoria. He took just the wicket of Verity and was at no point given a leg side field. He had neither the raw pace or control to really worry the English batsmen but Jardine managed to rile him and as a result he threw everything he could at the England skipper and hit him more than once, to the delight of the Sydney Cricket Ground. Jardine’s refusal to flinch in the face of his bowling left Alexander with an enduring respect for his courage.

But Woodfull wasn’t prepared to compromise his principles in any way. In later years Bill ‘Tiger’ O’Reilly wrote that he saved Australia from the disgrace that a wholesale bodyline war would have entailed …….. his name will grow in stature as the years by. Even Richardson, despite not agreeing with his captain, believed that his stand added to his already great reputation as a sportsman. Wholly unselfish in outlook Woodfull also made it clear to all his tailenders that they were not expected to take risks and should sacrifice their wickets if they felt in danger.

There can be no doubt but that Bodyline worried Woodfull and after his twin failures he came up with his own strategy for dealing with it, similar to that adopted by his great friend Ponsford, and entirely dissimilar to the contrasting methods of attack taken up by Bradman and McCabe. The Woodfull way was that unless he felt he could safely play the ball with his bat he would stand there and let it hit him. The method was not entirely successful, and of course the Australians lost the last three Tests, but Woodfull justified his policy by making a half century in each of them. Over the series as a whole no Australian faced as many deliveries as Woodfull did. He batted for over 19 hours in total and was hit countless times.

The controversy came to a head in the third Test, the infamous battle of Adelaide. Jardine won the toss and batted and, with England perilously place at 30-4, Australia’s series reached its high point. England recovered sufficiently to get to 341. In Australia’s reply Gubby Allen, bowling off theory as he always did, removed Jack Fingleton in his first over. At the other Larwood quickly built up his full head of steam. The last delivery of his second over, and he too was bowling off theory at this point, moved in a little, bounced, and struck Woodfull a fierce blow over the heart. The crowd, who almost to a man had roared their approval in the England innings every time a batsman was hit, reacted badly. In Jardine’s words pandemonium broke loose. Clearly in some distress the game was held up for a few minutes whilst Woodfull sorted himself out. He could have retired hurt, but clearly did not feel it would be in the best interests of his side to do so.

More than one contemporary writer suggested that when, at the start of his very next over, Larwood switched to the Bodyline field, had the match been at Sydney or Melbourne someone would have produced the spark that was all that would have been needed to produce a crowd invasion. Woodfull was fourth out at 51 having scored 22. He was bowled by Allen. Ponsford, who was dropped on two, and Vic Richardson then saw Australia through to the close at 109-4.

After Woodfull’s dismissal the England manager Warner and his assistant Richard Palairet went to the Australian dressing room to express their concern at the injury Woodfull had sustained. He rebuffed Warner with the famous comment I don’t want to see you Mr Warner. There are two teams out there. One of them is trying to play cricket. The other is not. The last thing that Woodfull wanted was for the story of his exchange with Warner to get to the press, but it did, almost straight away. The question of who was responsible for the leak was an open sore in Australian cricket for years. At the time most believed the culprit was Fingleton, already a member of the press. Fingleton hotly denied the allegation, and blamed Bradman, who in turn denied responsibility.

Woodfull’s career was now drawing to a close and all who knew him believed that something of his enjoyment of the game left him in 1932/33. What he was keen to see was a change in the law to outlaw Jardine’s tactic, and he served on the Australian committee that, once the MCC saw what was involved in the 1933 home season, helped achieve that aim. His final ambition on the field was to lead Australia to regain the Ashes. In 1934 at 36 he achieved that ambition, although his own game failed to scale the heights it had in the past. On the tour as a whole he did well enough, averaging more than 52 and comfortably exceeding 1,200 runs. In the Tests however he scored just one half century and was a shadow of the player he had once been. But he lead the side to victory and his sound judgment and leadership ensured that a tour with plenty of potential to go badly wrong was a success.

There was to be one final First Class match for Woodfull, played for the joint benefit of himself and Ponsford, for whom it was also a last hurrah. The pair evoked memories of their great days by sharing in yet another century partnership and Woodfull became one of the few to complete his career with a century. He also, thanks to ‘Chuck’ Fleetwood-Smith, took his only First Class wicket. Oddly for a man who in his youth had been a promising googly bowler he only ever bowled 26 deliveries in the First Class game, eight of them in that last match. To this day only Bradman, Ponsford and Vijay Merchant can boast a higher career average than Woodfull’s 64.99. His Test average falls some way short of that on exactly 46, but were two matches against New Zealand in 1928 to be included, and they were billed as Tests at the time, then that figure would rise to 50.85, a more appropriate reflection of his value to Australian cricket.

It was only a couple of years later that Woodfull stopped playing cricket altogether, and save for one year in the 1950s when he was a Victorian selector he never involved himself in the game’s administration. In time he rose to become the Principal of Melbourne High School. According to some sources Woodfull was offered a knighthood in November 1934 for his services to cricket, but that he turned the honour down on the basis that he did not consider that merely playing cricket justified such an award. If this is true, and it seems it very likely was, then had he accepted he would have been the first ever cricketing knight, beating Warner by three years.

In the end, in 1963, Woodfull did accept, for his services to education, an OBE. He died of a heart attack in 1965, at the relatively young age of 67. His widow apparently always maintained that the blow from Larwood at Adelaide in 1932/33 was responsible, although a more objective opinion as to cause would probably look at the legacy of the childhood rheumatic fever. Woodfull never did discuss his cricket career, and his thoughts on all the controversies that he played through died with him, although they would doubtless still have done so even if he had run up a century in years. We can, for example, only speculate as to what he really thought of his opposite number in that most acrimonious of series, Jardine. We do however know what Jardine thought of Woodfull, as he described him in In Quest of the Ashes, as a placid and great-hearted cricketer. One suspects if Woodfull had ever been pressed for a public expression of his view of Jardine that it would not have been dissimilar.