The Gentle Art of Bluff

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 245, 6 January 1928, Page 10

The Gentle Art of Bluff

Are Englishmen ever guilty of sharp practice in cricket? I should think so —and Australians also (says a writer in the “Australasian.”) But before any heat is generated it may be as well to explain that the only acts I can quote were deliberate, and the perpetrators made no secret of it. The games against odds in the country were not always taken quite seriously, and on one occasion at Stawell on their way to Adelaide for a Test match MacLaren and Lilley stood out for a rest and Charlie Robson, the Hampshire wicketkeeper, was given command of the side. It was a hot day, with the temperature well set for a century, and Robson hated the idea of keeping wicket under that sun. In toSsing, he took care to spin the coin so that it fell behind him, then turned, picked it up quickly, and after a moment’s diplomatic indecision, said, “Well, I suppose we might as well bat first.” “Did you win the toss, Charlie?” asked A. O. Jones as he came in. “No, Jonah; I cannot tell a lie,” was the solemn answer. “I really lost the toss, but I won the bluff, and that did just as well.” Away back in the grey days, when W. G. Grace brought his first eleven to Australia, J. A. Bush, also of Gloucester County, was wicketkeeper. Going in against Warrnambool, his wicket was skittled first ball, but he helped the umpire to fix it up again, and. remarking to the Warrnambool wicketkeeper, “Somehow, I never could play a trial ball,” went on batting.