G'day ya Pommie b******! E-Book

David Lloyd

• Herausgeber: G2 Rights
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

A collection of personal memories of over twenty years of cricket and cricketers from David Lloyd, Lancashire and England cricketer and cricket commentator.

Leseprobe

Contents

Introduction

Playing Days

Great Characters

Judgement Days

Speaking from Experience

Introduction

Player – Umpire – Broadcaster

Poacher turned gamekeeper was certainly true when I retired from first-class cricket in 1983, took a year off, and then applied to join the umpires list in 1985. Most of the lads on the list are ex-pros, they ‘know the ropes’. Picking the seam, lip-ice on the ball, gamesmanship, bad light, nicked it and stood – we have all seen it, done it, been there.

There are a couple of meetings to attend at Lord’s before getting out in the middle at the start of the season. All the bizarre incidents from last season are talked about.

“It came on raining at 4.55 pm on the last day just before the statutory 20 overs. They were behind on the quota of overs for the day but play resumed at 5.08 pm – how many overs of the last 20 had been lost?”

The Grimsby fish man, Don Oslear, would know. And he did. His oratory blinded everyone with science, but he knew. Is this still the job for me? I thought we just counted to six and gave ’em out from time to time. After that meeting I realized that I had played for nearly 20 years and knew nowt about the game!

The next three years were perhaps the most enjoyable I have had in the game. Colleagues were very helpful, games were hard with plenty to think about, and players were players.

I don’t know what I had done to deserve my first fixture, Cambridge University versus Essex. They would all be there, Lever, Pont, East, Hardie and the like. Something was bound to happen. Essex fielded first, Lever came in from my end, slow half-volley, straight onto the bat, smack – the thing disintegrated – it was an orange!

Essex again, this time against Somerset at Taunton. We had done all the preliminaries, checked the wicket, gauged the balls, etc. There was no boundary rope or line, so the advertising boards were the boundary. No problem. Regulations state that if the ball hits the board full on, it is four. It has to clear the board for six. But, and this is the sting in the tail, the fielder can lean against the board to complete a catch. Got it!

David East, the Essex wicket-keeper, is batting. He gets a bouncer which he hooks brilliantly to deep square leg. Great shot. Hang on, Jon Hardy is under it, he leans on the board, arms aloft, takes the catch ... and the board falls over with Hardy sat on it! Why me? Decision? Out. Exit one unhappy East.

Still at Taunton, this time Somerset against Middlesex in the Sunday League. The game is on TV. Three balls to go, I.T. Botham on strike, twelve to win. Wayne ‘Diamond’ Daniel is purveying from my end. ‘Both’ stops him in his run-up, prods the pitch a couple of times and says to me:

“Who you backing?”

I reply: “Three to go, twelve to win is a good contest. Is there any chance of getting on with it because ‘Songs of Praise’ is on next and we’re running a little late?”

The first of the three is a 70 mph low full-toss, delivered from wide of the crease which Both hits into the car park. Two to go, six to win. He blocks the next one on purpose, just to get the crowd on the edge of their seats. The game stops, ‘Gatt’, ‘Embers’ and Wayne gather at mid-off. ‘Philippe Henri’ comes across to join them, wife and fielders were moved everywhere. At last, everyone is in position. ‘Diamond’ steams in. It is a similar delivery to the first. It gets a similar response.

The ball was last seen disappearing over the scoreboard. The crowd went mad. I was just pulling up stumps at my end when a bat clouted me across the backside. Both again.

“You stick with me, pal, I’ll make you famous!” he said.

Happy days, great times. Now I am into something different. Broadcasting. And I start off in that as the young apprentice. Some Test Match Special work and some BSB satellite TV.

Yes, Johners has offered me the biggest slice of chocolate fudge cake which I eagerly accept. One mouthful into it, he immediately asks me about the technicalities of away-swing bowling from close to the wicket. Much mirth and guffaws all round. I know Jonners promotes the Primary Club tie for batsman who have been out first ball. Pehaps he should strike one for all the summarisers who have fallen for the chocolate cake routine.

Lots of letters, too. Some complimentary and some not so. For instance Peter Baxter, the producer, received one which was very short and to the point, written on the back of a National Savings Certificate paying-in slip. It said:

“Why don’t you get shot of that biased Lancashire b .....” I can only assume he meant me and not Farokh Engineer. By the way, the postmark was Wakefield.

It is not all cricket either. During the Old Trafford Test match I was on with Christopher Martin-Jenkins when it started to rain. CMJ offered that “at least it would do the gardens good”. I agreed enthusiastically, which prompted him to ask if I was a keen gardener.

“Not really,” I replied “but I have just put a pond in.”

“Oh, do you have any fish in it?” he enquired.

“Yes, and a fair amount of algae,” I said.

Fred Trueman chipped in from behind that:

“I should be wary of herons if you have fish about.”

“I don’t think there are many herons in Accrington,” I said.

“Oh yes there are,” said our first caller. “There are two on the canal bank at Oswaldwistle.”

Thank you. Our next caller offered very interesting advice on the dispersal of algae and another was a noted authority on Koi carp, who would be only too pleased to come to my home and advise me on the welfare and general well-being of the fish. I really did not have the heart to say that it is only a six by four pool liner and the goldfish are from the local fair. Perhaps this puts the record straight.

Playing Days

THE OLD ENEMY

An Aussie Tour is different. They are the Old Enemy, just like Lancashire versus Yorkshire, Middlesex versus Surrey or Warwickshire versus Worcestershire but on a much grander scale. After all, we sent them there in the first place!

An affectionate welcome

In 1974 when I was first-timer on my one and only tour, I obviously looked forward to the experience with great anticipation. It was when we finally arrived and were going through the usual immigration routine that I had an inkling that the general public were going to be less than friendly towards us.

There was no: “Hi, lovely to see you, have an enjoyable stay in Australia,” from a courteous passport official.

No, it was: “G’day, ya Pommie b......., come over for another good hiding, have ya?”

Tony Greig assured me that ‘ya Pommie b......’ was really a sign of affection. I was not convinced.

There were, of course, many official functions to attend. A chance to meet new friends and interesting people. John Edrich and Fred Titmus would always arrive last. They had been before.

There were also standard questions asked by our ‘new friends’.

“G’day, ya Pommie b......, what do you think of our Sheelaghs, what do you think of our sea, what do you think of our sun?”

There were also standard answers.

“Yes, there are no ladies in England, the sea is miles away, and I do beg your pardon, but what is the sun?”

The Australian cricket connoisseur would also attend these functions and after the inevitable one-way introduction would ask the very perceptive question:

“Can ya hook?”

Before you could get any sort of reply out he would always come back with:

“Good for you, mate, ’cos when Thommo gets going you’ll need plenty of practice.”

An Australian welcome

Have you heard the one about the Australian Rules Ladies Football presentation evening when the Master of Ceremonies said:

“In the audience tonight we have members of the England cricket team. I hope all you ladies give them the clap that they deserve!”

The wit of Jeff Thomson

Thommo was a great fast bowler for a relatively short period of time. A very easy approach, javelin thrower’s action and searing pace. He will, I am sure, be remembered for his one and only quote;

“I love to see blood on the wicket.”

I recall thinking at the time, as I was the opening batsman, that he meant mine and not his. All very disconcerting for this son of Accrington, renowned for his cover drive.

A difference in interpretation

I mention that Thommo was exceptionally pacey, particularly in Australia, but not so in England. Over here he had to contend with the great Test Match umpires, like Tommy Spencer. Tommy knew that ‘if he is on the line, he’s mine’. Thommo’s first over in England went into double figures in terms of deliveries. Tommy had him.

A bit different over there. I remember mentioning in the dressing room after a particularly long and hostile spell from Thommo that he was over the front line and, therefore, noballing for the majority of deliveries. I was encouraged to point this out to the umpire after the break. I thought I did this quite tactfully in saying to the umpire that:

“He gets quite close, doesn’t he, sir?”

There were, in fact, no foot markings behind the front line.

The umpire replied, “He’s close enough. Anyway, we don’t agree with that law over here.”

I couldn’t resist it. It just came out.

“You do when we’re bowling,” I said.

A painful introduction

The wicket at Perth is like lightning. I should know, it was there that I first faced Jeff Thomson. Thommo hit me with what the press usually says is ‘a blow in the groin.’ My abdominal protector was completely inverted. It hurt. I was assisted from the field and took no further part in the day’s proceedings.

The following morning I was still feeling one below par, so to speak, and asked Mike Denness when he would like me to bat. He said, “Next.”

Our two lads went out to resume the innings as I settled into a corner of the dressing room to get mentally prepared. After two minutes there was a terrific sustained roar. I deduced that we hadn’t hit a six. Out I went. Will it be bouncer or yorker? Whatever it was it hit me straight in the throat and I went down for another compulsory eight count. Thommo retrieved the ball from my feet, looked me straight in the eye and we both said in unison, “G’day ya Pommie b ......!” Always remember, all you future tourists, this is a term of affection.

It always pays to be friendly

Thommo has been well documented but our chaps can rest assured whenever they go out there the Aussies will find a new one. They always do. Thomson, Pascoe, Hogg, Hughes, McDermott. Yes, there will always be another one out there.

It is always best to get these quickies on your side. Pass the time of day with them and generally be pleasant especially if you are an opening batsman. It works. The third Test on the 1974/75 tour was at Sydney and everything had been going well. No broken bones or fatal injuries. In fact the game was played in a jolly good spirit – until Dennis Lillee came in to bat.

Dennis had given us a rough time in the previous two Tests and so I started to chat to him to get him in a favourable mood for when it was our turn to bat.

The usual things like: “How’s the wife?” and “Good luck Dennis, enjoy your knock.”

Tony Greig obviously wasn’t seeing the situation as I was and bowled him a bouncer first ball, which struck him on the point of the elbow. I immediately asked Dennis if he was OK, and pointed out that I thought that the ball had jumped up from a good length.

Keith Fletcher, fielding at gully shouted in that Eastenders’ accent:

“Well done, Greigy, give ’im another.”

The atmosphere of the game suddenly changed. Lillee reared round and said:

“Who said that?”

“I did,” said Fletch defiantly.

We finished the day’s play and retired to our hotel. We were all together in the ‘team room’ watching the News when an interview with Dennis Lillee came onto the screen. Now, as England players, we were not allowed to give interviews during a game but it seemed that all the Aussie players had their own programmes It was either the ‘Ian Chappell Show’ or the ‘Jeff Thomson Show’ or the ‘Rod Marsh Show’. This one was certain to be the ‘Dennis Lillee Show’.

After all the usual questions about the game in progress, Lillee was asked:

“How do you get on with the England team, what sort of blokes are they?”

“The Poms are good sorts,” he replied. “I get on well with them all.”

He then leaned forward and looking straight to camera continued:

“Except that little weasel, Fletcher. I know you are watching and I will sort you out tomorrow.”

We all had a good laugh about it, but it was not so funny if you happened to be Keith Fletcher.

The next day Australia made inroads into our batting and the moment of truth arrived when Fletch had to go out and bat. No helmet, no visor, just his MCC cap with St George on his horse as the badge. Lillee met him at the gate and escorted him to the middle.

“Now it’s my turn, ya Pommie b ......”