THE ART OF CRICKET

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 317, 30 March 1928, Page 10

THE ART OF CRICKET

LESSONS OF FIRST TEST BATTING METHODS ANALYSED MEMORIES OF THE LONG AGO WHILE the Test Match atmosphere is in the process of being rapidly transferred from one end of New Zealand to the other, the time is opportune to review the outstanding features of the first Test, at Auckland, and the lessons which can be learnt from a classic contest between some of the greatest players in the game to-day.

A NICE easy wicket. The recent showers had just been sufficient to take the gloss off the pitch, which means that extra bit of “zip” dangerous to any batsman before he is set. A stiff breeze almost dead up and down the wickets—a breeze which was a handicap to the bowlers from either end. Add to this that New Zealand was without a first-class bowler, and it will be admitted that the Australians —who won the toss —could ask for nothing better. This lack of first-class bowling on the New Zealand side Is to be deeply regretted, not only from a match winning point of view, but from the educational value and aspect. Had New Zealand had a Spofforth, what an educational feast it would have been for the keen young cricketer to watch how two of the 'world’s best batsmen would have played him. The variety of strokes he would nave forced them to employ, and unearth, while he was feeling, feeding for some weakness! However, as it was, we saw Ponsford and Woodfull play the same bowling for some hours. Their style was diametrically opposed from their stance to the finish of their stroke. REMINISCENT OF FRY Woodfull stands upright, legs and arms straight—in fact, his arm action looks ungainly and awkward. He reminded me forcibly of that other »rreat batsman of bygone days, C. B. Pry, who played in that straight-armed

manner. What power they must have in their shoulders and wrists! Woodfull seldom brings his bat back higher than the of his leg. He gets to the pitch of the ball smoothly, and the way the ball leaves his bat and travels proves the timing and power of the stroke that to the eye looks powerless. • The ultra-good length ball that calls for defence he treats with the smallest expenditure of energy. The shortest of pulling back of the right leg (he is right-handed), his bat lifted back about five inches from the ground, and then to meet the ball in a scooping movement, with a short follow through. It is curious to watch his treatment of the short ball: At the last possible moment, or thus the eye sees it, ins bat and two arms fly out like a signal arm, and swoop on that ball and dispatch it to the boundary, or to a fielder who does not appreciate the compliment. A STYLE OF HIS OWN And thus with all his strokes. He never looks to flurry or hurry. He never looks as if he were going to miss the ball. Beauty of stroke or style he has not got. His style is his own, and the cleverest cricketing plagiarist could never copy it, but the youth who studies the principles on which Woodfull has built up his game will find a sure foundation on which to build. Beauty and style simply do not come into Woodfull’s consideration. Ilis business is that his bat shall be over and master of the ball. Let it come through the air, twisting and humming; if it is a good length Woodfull is out and over it; if an ultra-good length, Woodfull -watches it on to the bat; if a loose one, he smites it well and truly from above. PONSFORD AT THE WICKETS Ponsford employed the same ciples, but in a different way. Directly he faces the bowlers he reminds one of a terrier standing before a rat-hole, with wagging tail and eagerness oozing from every hair. Knees bent, holding his bat well down the handle, and beautifully balanced on his feet. In every stroke arms, wrist, feet, all synchronise. A full step back, his bat swung up behind shoulder high, to come down and meet that ball, fullfaced, and then follow through, right through. A beautiful circle. Unlike Kippax, who immediately forces one’s attention to his wonderful wrist play, his arms go first, and then the real stroke. The timing and contact with the ball is made by a lightning flick of the wrists. Ponsford’s strokes are made by a beautiful uniformity of arms, wrist, and feet, his dynamic force seeming to explode simultaneously. Kippax, to the spectator, is the merry

adventurer. He gives the watcher a thrill as he turns his body square to the bowler, and with a horizontal bat or a flick of those wrists pulls a ball off his middle stump. Probably this stroke made by him is one of his safest shots, but it does not look safe to the spectator, who is kept keyed up by these antics. When one comes to think of the two men, Kippax and Ponsford, they are alike in their batting inasmuch as both are the concentrated essence of energy, which they explode against the ball —• one in beautiful symmetrical movements, the other in rugged, uncouth, and powerful gestures. Energy, determination, and intense concentration on their job is their keystone. The chief lesson these great batsmen teach us is that the meeting of the ball, the attacking of the ball, is the natural method of defence. Many good judges have said that Ranjitsinghi, magnificent cricketer as he was, with his effortless back strokes and gliding and wrist work, ruined English cricket. His game was his natural game. Behind the quickness of his vision was his Oriental brain, that does not lend itself to attack if more subtle methods are equally efficacious. Australia was blessed at that period with equally as great cricketer in Victor Trumper. “Up, Guards, and at ’em!” was his slogan. To see him jump down the pitch to a. bowler of the pace and calibre of Tom Richardson, and dispatch him to the boundary, was a sight to see and lean back and die blissfully. ATTACK THE BEST DEFENCE Australia has kept his methods. England sold her birthright, and has gone down to defeat monotonously ever since. Thank the god of games, Ranjitsinghi’s meteoric brilliance is a sight of the past, and the coming generation of Englishmen show signs of returning to their legitimate methods.| Once again we shall see the beautiful forward strokes and drives, and when someone will demonstrate how to treat a leg ball as W. G. Grace, Darling, and Co. once used to do, the leg theory will be killed, and those mighty games between England and Australia will once more be titanic. Another lesson the best batsmen of this Australian team have demonstrated to the lovers of cricket in New Zealand is that the batsman who stays at home to a slow break or a googley bowler has a most unprofitable and uncomfortable time. T. C. Lowry, the New Zealand captain, proved this most successfully. On the play of the match, New Zealand has nothing to learn from Australia either in bowling or fielding. Merritt, when he has developed more pace through the air, will be as good as virimmett, and Badcoek keeps as good a length a§ any of them. Catches were dropped by both sides —probably the easier lot by the Australians. During the last half-hour's play on Saturday the light was none too good. Woodfull and Schneider were batting. A heavy wind was blowing down the field. Thousands of spectators had left the field, and had generously left their newspapers on the ground, and the wind caught them and blew them all over the playing area. The area was smothered with twirling, twisting, gigantic snowflakes. Every cricketer knows how one piece of paper blown across or down the pitch distracts the eye. Those hundreds must have been a nightmare to Woodfull and Schneider, especially Schneider, as a “Sun” upmust be very nearly as tall as himself. There were hundreds of boys who, at a word, would have been only too proud to. have collected those papers in a very few minutes. It would have been a courteous act. It was not done. H.P.R.