For me the Game and the Game’s Literature and statistics went hand in hand. They flourished in ideal surroundings in the idyllically placed Castle Park School, overlooking Bulloch Harbour. There cricket was a religion, it would be more accurate to say the religion, while the school library had a well-stocked devotional section which included Wisden and, most importantly, Neville Cardus.
Aged about twelve I already had the reputation of being “a walking Wisden”. Not that I was an armchair cricketer, far from it, but probably sensing that I would never be a top performer, I could delve into another sphere totally unrelated to my own performance: that of my heroes! This sphere went hand in hand with reading the newspapers avidly. I was lucky in that my father took The Manchester Guardian, as it then was. Every morning (starting in summer 1950), before cycling off to Castle Park, I would read Denys Rowbotham on the current Lancashire match. The most distinguished Lancashire batsman of his era, Cyril Washbrook, excited the pen of this supreme stylist . Style celebrated style. Washbrook became my top English hero, for Rowbotham invested him with a special aura. Even in his decline Washbrook could produce a magical innings which Rowbotham would describe in memorable prose, having inherited the literary mantle of Cardus.
During the 1952 season I became aware that there was a magazine, The Cricketer, to which I was introduced by W.P.Toone (WPT), the Founder of Castle Park, and High Priest of the religion of Cricket. With incredible perceptiveness he had me sent copies of The Cricketer, founded in 1921 by his contemporary Sir Pelham (‘Plum’) Warner, for the duration of the school holidays. I became hooked. Shortly afterwards I became a subscriber to the magazine, conscious of my debt to WPT. The Cricketer did not only deal with the current game but with its history and literature. There was a strong literary flavour to the magazine, with the striking name of L.E.S.Gutteridge making an impression on me. Since I had started my life-long Cardus phase around 1950 I was probably aware that the great writer had been similarly fascinated by the gutteral sounding name of “Gaukrodger” of Worcestershire, a cricketer of modest accomplishment. Whatever the reason, “Gutteridge” from the outset became a favourite of mine with his learnèd articles about the early literature of the game and the top-hatted heroes of Hambledon. In summer 1960 I called on Gutteridge who ran what Wisden in his obituary (2001) described as “an unrivalled centre for cricketana”. There I spread myself, acquiring Wisden back to 1880 and The Cricketer in a beautifully bound run from 1921 to 1952. Gutteridge took me to the Lord’s pavilion during the Gentlemen v.Players match where he introduced me to Sir Pelham Warner, in the Long Room. Sir Pelham indulged in a eulogy on the batting of young Charles Fry, grandson of his great contemporary C.B.Fry. Forty four years later, at the launching of A Breathless Hush…The MCC Anthology of Cricket Verse, I had the pleasure of meeting ‘young Charles Fry’, by now President of MCC, in the Long Room, and passed on Sir Pelham’s praise. I had made it at last; in a sense turning out for MCC, though not as a player. How sensible of me to develop my non-playing skills!
THE EPITAPH
The Cricket-Poet, idle now,
Who sang the fame of Warner,
Sits moping with defeated brow,
Lamenting “Poets’ Corner”.
His friends implore, “Your brain bestir,
Or sip the juice of Rhône!”
He groans, “The Wisden-Cricketer
Prints prose, and prose alone.”
A Gravestone with this Epitaph
Will soon expose their crime:
Here de-composes one
Who suffered Martyrdom for Rhyme.
I, who had sung the 75th Birthday of The Cricketer now ‘sang’ the obsequies of “Poets’ Corner”, to my mind an act of Poetic Justice; a decent rounding off.
I had been brought up to observe the importance of birthdays as providing an opportunity for thanking people who deserved well of me. For the seventy fifth birthday of The Cricketer I produced an Ode which was published in their special birthday issue. In the Ode I had mentioned two of my poetical team-mates to-be in ABH, R.C.Robertson-Glasgow and G.D.Martineau, whose expertly crafted verses continue to delight me, but by 2004 they had both long since been summoned to “the Great Pavilion in the Skies”. I also took care to mention Arthur Langford and his wife who kept the magazine alive during the War, making many sacrifices to ensure its survival.
The Cricketer continued until September 2003 when it was run out for 82, or in commercial terms taken over by The Wisden Cricket Monthly. The new magazine, The Wisden Cricketer (TWC), immediately discontinued “ Poets’ Corner” , which , under the kindly critical eye of Amanda Ripley, had given my verse regular airings. The New Regime was however sporting enough to publish my Lament, in keeping with a time-honoured Irish tradition, on this Act of Bards being barred. “The Epitaph” appeared as a Letter to the Editor, conferring on me honour without profit for my labours in this instance. The Cricketer had held the labourer worthy of his hire.
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