BATSMAN'S HEAVEN.

Dominion, Volume 5, Issue 1332, 9 January 1912, Page 6

BATSMAN'S HEAVEN.

GETTING "SET." A STUDY'IN PSYCHOLOGY. [By "Old Haot."] Even those of us wlio have only played very minor cricket know the glorjous glow of satisfaction which pervades our whole being when we feel wo are really "set" at tho wicket. Isn't it magnificent, to see a really "crack" bat doing execution when ho pets really ".«*t"? How he hits all round tho wicket, times each stroke, scorns to anticipate exactly what the attack poi'tends, where' the ball will pitch, how it will break, what particular ftroko— ar.d. that stroke only—will .send it whizzing past the field to tho boundary. Changes uf bowling are tried, tho position of fieldsman after fieldsman altered, all without avail. Ho keeps on driving, cutting, hitting to leg, snicking between the slips, three figures show up on the telegraph board, are long passed, and it tfenis as if short of sheer physical'exhaustion he might go on- for ever. Sometimes he does—that is, lasts through the entire innings and "carries out his bat"—more often not; very, very frequently, indeed, the tide turns after one of the intervals. The Word of the Master. Host great bats have enjoyed this exhilarating sensation, but few,have gono into its philosophy, or, rather, psychology. Let us see what Dr. W. G. Grace" has had to say on the subject. A good' many years ago, when he was little past his prime as a cricketer, he was questioned alxtut this phenomenon, and this is what —in effect—he said. On days when he sp l thoroughly "set" his experience wn3 that the ball gradually increased in size until it became so big, that to miss it was virtually'impossible. , Not only that, but it: filled his whole consciousness, so that everything else faded' away—crowd, pitch, field, in fact everything except that monstrously magnified ball had ceased to exist. As forms own mental condition so far as he was- aware he never "thought" at all; was hardly conscious of the bat in his hands,, certainly didn't discriminatingly choose his strokes, in fact was simply hitting and running automatically. The proper strokes tu plat-fin each ball came to him," so to speak, almost' as if another than he were supplying the motor power to set going his arms, shoulders,_ wrists, and legs. Now, tho "Doctor's" experience is by no means peculiar to him—many other notable batsmen have when interrogated admitted their experience of precisely the same set of sensations. The absence of anxiety, of' any conscious thought, the apparent increase in the size of the ball, the curious absorption under the effects of which everything barring that ball is more or less blotted out—the 'occurrence of all these phenomena seom common to all bats who have known what it is to got thoroughly "set." And the explanation thereof is comparatively simple, even for those whocan lay claim to no knowledge of even .the veriest rudiments of psychology. That Sub-Conscious Mind, i n Take Grace's statement, borne out by the testimony of many others, about the increased size of the ball. Of course, in a concrete sense. tho ball does not grow bigger. The illusion is purely subjective. With great concentration upon one object all other objects become faint and dim, if they do not entirely fade.away. Thus we all know that if vo are looking very intently at some object in the distance our attention is not likely to be attracted unless we are spoken to.in a more than average loud tonev jo when once the will' hag issued its.mandate that that ball— and that only—shall bo the - batsman's care, the tendency of the conscious mind is'to lose sight of, and to take no heed of,.anything else, nnd in fact,.'if all within is working perfectly harmoniously, to withdraw from participation in the business in hand altogether, leaving the guidance of tho body to the ''subconscious" mind—that is to say, leaving the individual'in the very best state of consciousness for action. Ho has learned his strokes, ho has by dint of long experience and careful study and assiduous practice gained tho knowledge of the thing, but laborious thought, conscious mental effort, and reflection are worse than, useless when swift, accurate, nnd constant action are demanded. All these things he has learned must have beeomo part of himself, must have been absorbed and assimilated through his conscious mind, and, sinking in, come up qgain through the "sub-conscious" mind in tho form of that swift, easy, automatic action which wo so admire.

This is what has happened when a man gets "set," and the more perfectly the body has been trained (not necessarily in the physical culture sense) the moro perfectly it will respond to each subconscious effort, the less muscular and nerve resistance will there be (o each impetus, the more beautiful will bo the coordination and the more perfect ■ and pleasing to witness will be the results.

Here again—but this is rare—when the "subconscious" mind, directing action — of which it is the only true and neverfailing governor—is working truly and unerringly, a man will realiso that the conscious part of his marital equipment is not entirely dormant, but is working also on independent lines, or as the psychologists would style it, on "another plane." Xhen wo get a form' of "double consciousness"—tho "snb-conscious" mind performing its function and tho "conscious mind," apparently completely detached, surveying the whole proceedings —the field, the bowler, the spectators, the surrounding features of the landscape, the man himself—as from an altitude, with an absolute sense of isolation, as if, indeed, it belonged to another person. Why Does He Ever Get Out? How comes it, then, if may bo asked, that there does—in most cases—come a period to this "perfect state for action" with the result that there is a return to the pavilion amid the cheers of the multitude? The explanation is' fairly obvious. The. "centurion" may become physically weary, the actual bodily labour of hitting and running may be beginning to tell upon him, and thus his limbs may ho longer respond without effort or friction to tho stimuli of his sub-conscious mind. I'ollowing on that, finding that he no longer hits with the sruuo vigour, nor "places" with the same exquisito accuracy, he may begin to worry; behold, the conscious mind comes into play again, he starts "thinking" about what to do instoad of doing it automatically, he is in "two minds" about a stroke—and the end has come! As has been said frequently, his breakdown will occur after an interval, at a time when it might bo thought that refreshed and strengthened by tho rest he . ought to go on hitting away more powerfully and moro accurately than ever. But the hiatus may—and generally does—nieau that his mental "state" has entirely changed. He has .come out of the condition of consciousness in which he was before his rest, and getting back again is a difficult, sometimes an impossible, matter. He lias been pleased with himself over what he has done, has been congratulated by the onlookers upon his' success, he goes in again with the intention piling up such a score "as never was." ■ All of which tend to make him self-conscious, to cause him to reflect rather than to let himself go automatically, to use, once again, that conscious mind > which is so valuable when time servts for calm, but which is no use as a propelling power in tho face of the necessity for swift, determined, decisive action. As in Cricket, So with other accomplishments demanding perfect co-ordination between mind and body, swiftness aad power, delicacy of touch, instant decision._ Paderewski, tho great virtuoso, has said that when playing a piece perfectly, however difficult from tho point of view of execution, it was impossible for him to mislinger a note—and precisely for tho same reason as that given by Dr. Grace in connection with batting. The keyboard of tho piano simply increased enormously in size—to his sub-conscious vision, of course. _^_____^_