Part 8

Peter Heward, an excellent wicket-keeper of Leicester,--of the same day as Henry Davis, one of the finest and most graceful hitters ever seen, as Dakin, or any midland player will attest,--once observed to me, “Players are apt to forget that a bad bowler may bowl one or two balls as well as the best; so, to make a good average, you must always play the same guarded and steady game, and take care especially when late in the season.” “Why late in the season?” “Because the ground is damp and heavy--it takes the spring out of good bowling, and gives fast underhand bowling as many twists as it has hops, besides making it hang on the ground. This game is hardly worth playing it is true; but a man is but half a player who is only prepared for true ground.” “We do not play cricket,” he continued, “on billiard tables; wind and weather, and the state of the turf make all the difference. So, if you play to win, play the game that will carry you through; and that is a straight and upright game; use your eyes well; play not at the pitch, nor by the length, but always (what few men do) at the ball itself, and never hit or ‘pull the ball’ across wicket.”

Next as to the _half-volley_. This is the most delightful of all balls to hit, because it takes the right part of the bat, with all the quickness of its rise or rebound. Any player will show you what a half-volley is, and I presume that every reader has some living lexicon to explain common terms. A half-volley, then, is very generally hit in the air, soaring far above every fieldsman’s head; and to know the power of the bat, every hitter should learn so to hit at pleasure. Though, as a rule, _high hits make a low average_. But I am now to speak only of hitting half-volleys along the ground.

Every time you play forcibly at the pitch of a ball you have more or less of the half-volley; so this is a material point in batting. The whole secret consists partly in timing your hit well, and partly in taking the ball at the right part of the rise, so as to play the ball down without wasting its force against the ground.

Every player thinks he can hit a half-volley along the ground; but if once you see it done by a really brilliant hitter, you will soon understand that such hitting admits of many degrees of perfection. In forward play, or driving, fine hitters seem as if they felt the ball on the bat, and sprung it away with an elastic impulse; and, in the more forcible hits, a ball from one of the All England batsmen appears not so much like a hit as a shot from the bat: for, when a ball is hit in the swiftest part of the bat’s whirl, and with that part of the bat that gives the greatest force with the least jar, the ball appears to offer no resistance; its momentum is annihilated by the whirl of the bat, and the two-and-twenty fieldsmen find to their surprise how little ground a fieldsman can cover against true and accurate hitting.

Clean hitting requires a loose arm, the bat held firmly, but not clutched in the hand till the moment of hitting; clumsy gloves are a sad hindrance, the hit is not half so crisp and smart. The bat must be brought forward not only by the free swing of the arm working well from the shoulder, but also by the wrist. (Refer to _fig. 1._ p. 115.) Here is the bat ready thrown back, and wrists proportionally bent; from that position a hit is always assisted by wrist as well as arm. The effect of the wrist alone, slight as its power appears, is very material in hitting; this probably arises from the greater precision and better time in which a wrist hit is commonly made.

As to hard hitting, if two men have equal skill, the stronger man will send the ball farthest. Many slight men drive a ball nearly as far as larger men, because they exert their force in a more skilful manner. We have seen a man six feet three inches in height, and of power in proportion, hit a ball tossed to him--not once or twice, but repeatedly--a hundred yards or more in the air. This, perhaps, is more than any light man could do. But, the best man at putting the stone and throwing a weight we ever saw, was a man of little more than ten stone. In this exercise, as in wrestling, the application of a man’s whole weight at the proper moment is the chief point: so also in hard hitting.

The whirl of the bat may be accelerated by wrist, fore-arm, and shoulder: let each joint bear its proper part.

NUTS FOR STRONG TEETH.--All effective hits must be made with both hands and arms; and, in order that both arms may apply their force, the point at which the ball is struck should be opposite the middle of the body.

Take a bat in your hand, poise the body as for a half-volley hit forward, the line from shoulder to shoulder being parallel with the line of the ball. Now whirl the bat in the line of the ball, and you will find that it reaches that part of its circle where it is perpendicular to the ground,--midway between the shoulders; at that moment the bat attains its greatest velocity; so, then alone can the strongest hit be made. Moreover, a hit made at this moment will drive the ball parallel to and skimming the ground. And if, in such a hit, the lower six inches of the bat’s face strike the ball, the hit is properly called a “clean hit,” being free from all imperfections. The same may be said of a horizontal hit, or cut. The bat should meet the ball when opposite the body. I do not say that every hit should be made in this manner; I only say that a perfect hit can be made in no other, and that it should be the aim of the batsman to attain this position of the body as often as he can. Nor is this mere speculation on the scientific principle of batting; it arises from actual observation of the movements of the best batsmen. All good hitters make their hits just at the moment when the ball is opposite the middle of their body. Watch any fine Off-hitter. If he hits to Mid-wicket, his breast is turned to Mid-wicket; if he hits, I mean designedly, to Point, his breast is turned to Point. I do not say that his hits would always go to those parts of the field; because the speed and spin of the ball will always, to a greater or less degree, prevent its going in the precise direction of the hit; but I only say that the ball is always hit by the best batsmen when just opposite to them. Cutting forms no exception: the best cutters turn the body round on the basis of the feet till the breast fronts the ball,--having let the ball go almost as far as the bails,--and then the full power of the hitter is brought to bear with the least possible diminution of the original speed of the ball. This is the meaning of the observation,--that fine cutters appear to follow the ball, and at the latest moment cut the ball off the bails; for, if you do not follow the ball, by turning your breast to it at the moment you hit, you can have no power for a fine cut. It makes good “Chamber practice” to suspend a ball oscillating by a string: you will thus see wherein lies that peculiar power of cutting, which characterises Mr. Bradshaw, Mr. Felix, and Mr. C. Taylor; as of old, Searle, Saunders, and Robinson. Robinson cut so late that the ball often appeared past the wicket.

And these hints will suffice to awaken attention to the powers of the bat. Clean hitting is a thing to be carefully studied; the player who has never discovered his deficiency in it, had better examine and see whether there is not a secret he has yet to learn.

_The Tice._ Safest to block: apt to be missed, because a dropping ball; hard to get away, because on the ground. Drop the bat smartly on the ground, and it will make a run, but do not try too much of a hit. The Tice is almost a full pitch; the way to hit it, says Caldecourt, is to go in and make it a full pitch: I cannot advise this for beginners. Going in even to a Tice puts you out of form for the next ball, and creates a dangerous habit.

_Ground balls_, and all balls that touch the ground more than once between wickets, I have already hinted, are reckoned very easy, but they are always liable to prove very dangerous. Sometimes you have three hops, and the last like a good length ball: at each hop the ball may twist On or Off with the inequalities of the ground; also, if bowled with the least bias, there is much scope for that bias to produce effect. All these peculiarities account for a fact, strange but true, that the best batsmen are often out with the worst bowling. Bad bowling requires a game of its own, and a game of the greatest care, where too commonly we find the least; because “only underhand bowling,”--and “not by any means good lengths;” it requires, especially, playing at the ball itself, even to the last inch, and not by calculation of the pitch or rise.

Let me further remark that hitting, to be either free, quick, or clean, must be done by the arms and wrists, and not by the body; though the weight of the body appears to be thrown in by putting down the left leg; though, in reality, the leg comes down after the hit to restore the balance.

Can a man throw his body into a blow (at cricket)? About as much as he can hold up a horse with a bridle while sitting on the same horse’s back. Both are common expressions; both are at variance with the laws of nature. A man can only hit by whirling his bat in a circle. If he stands with both feet near together, he hits feebly because in a smaller circle; if he throws his left foot forward, he hits harder because in a wider circle. A pugilist cannot throw in his body with a round hit; and a cricketer cannot make anything else but round hits. Take it as a rule in hitting, that what is not elegant is not right; for the human frame is rarely inelegant in its movements when all the muscles act in their natural direction. Many men play with their shoulders up to their ears, and their sinews all in knots, and because they are conscious of desperate exertion, they forget that their force is going anywhere rather than into the ball. It is often remarked that hard hitting does not depend on strength. No. It depends not on the strength a man has, but on the strength he exerts, at the right time and in the right direction; and strength is exerted in hitting, as in throwing a ball, in exact proportion to the rapidity of the whirl or circle which the bat or hand describes. The point of the bat moves faster in the circle than any other part; and, therefore, did not the jar, resulting from the want of resistance, place the point of hitting, as experience shows, a little higher up, the nearer the end the harder would be the hit. The wrist, however slight its force, acting with a multiplying power, adds greatly to the speed of this whirl.

Hard hitting, then, depends, first, on the freedom with which the arm revolves from the shoulder, unimpeded by constrained efforts and contortions of the body; next, on the play of the arm at the elbow; thirdly, on the wrists. Observe any cramped clumsy hitter, and you will recognise these truths at once. His elbow seems glued to his side, his shoulder stiff at the joint, and the little speed of his bat depends on a twist and a wriggle of his whole body.

Keep your body as composed and easy as the requisite adjustment of the left leg will admit; let your arms do the hitting; and remember the wrists. The whiz that meets the ear will be a criterion of increasing power. Practise hard hitting,--that is, the full and timely application of your strength, not only for the value of the extra score, but because hard hitting and correct and clean hitting are one and the same thing. Mere stopping balls and poking about in the blockhole is not cricket, however successful; and I must admit, that one of the most awkward, poking, vexatious blockers that ever produced a counterfeit of cricket, defied Bayley and Cobbett at Oxford in 1836,--three hours, and made five and thirty runs. Another friend, a better player, addicted to the same teasing game, in a match at Exeter in 1845, blocked away till his party, the N. Devon, won the match, chiefly by byes and wide balls! Such men might have turned their powers to much better account.

Some maintain that anything that succeeds is cricket; but not such cricket as full-grown men should vote a scientific and a manly exercise; otherwise, to “run cunning” might be Coursing, and to kill sitting Shooting. A player may happen to succeed with what is not generally a successful style,--winning in spite of his awkwardness, and not by virtue of it.

But there is another cogent reason for letting your arms, and not your body, do the work,--namely, that it makes all the difference to your sight whether the level of the eye remains the same as with a composed and easy hitter; or, unsteady and changing, as with the wriggling and the clumsy player. Whether a ball undulates in the air, or whether there is an equal undulation in the line of the eye which regards that ball, the confusion and indistinctness is the same. As an experiment, look at any distant object, and move your head up and down, and you will understand the confusion of sight to which I allude. The only security of a good batsman, as of a good shot, consists in the hand and eye being habituated to act together. Now, the hand may obey the eye when at rest, but have no such habit when in unsteady motion. And this shows how uncertain all hitting must be, when, either by the movement of the body or other cause, the line of sight is suddenly raised or depressed.

The same law of sight shows the disadvantage of men who stand at guard very low, and then suddenly raise themselves as the ball is coming.

The same law of sight explains the disadvantage of stepping in to hit, especially with a slow dropping ball: the eye is puzzled by a double motion--the change in the level of the ball, and the change in the level of the line of sight.

So much for our theory; now for experience! Look at Pilch and all fine players. How characteristic is the ease and repose of their figures--no hurry or trepidation. How little do their heads or bodies move! Bad players dance about, as if they stood on hot iron, a dozen times while the ball is coming, with precisely the disadvantage that attends an unsteady telescope. “Then you would actually teach a man how to see?” We would teach him how to give his eyes a fair chance. Of sight, as of quickness, most players have enough, if they would only make good use of it.

To see a man wink his eyes and turn his head away is not uncommon the first day of partridge shooting, and quite as common at the wicket. An undoubting judgment and knowledge of the principles of batting literally improves the sight, for it increases that calm confidence which is essential for keeping your eyes open and in a line to see clearly.

Sight of a ball also depends on a habit of undivided attention both before and after delivery, and very much on health. A yellow bilious eye bespeaks a short innings: so, be very careful what you eat and drink when engaged to play a match. At a match at Purton in 1836, five of the Lansdowne side, after supping on crab and champagne, could do nothing but lie on the grass. But your sight may be seriously affected when you do not feel actually ill. So Horace found at Capua:--

“_Namque pilâ lippis inimicum et ludere crudis._”

STRAIGHT AND UPRIGHT PLAY.--To be a good judge of a horse, to have good common sense, and to hit straight and upright at Cricket, are qualifications never questioned without dire offence. Yet few, very few, ever play as upright as they might play, and that even to guard their three stumps. To be able, with a full and upright bat, to play well over and to command a ball a few inches to the Off, or a little to the leg, is a very superior and rare order of ability.

The first exercise for learning upright play is to practise several times against an easy bowler, with both hands on the same side of the handle of the bat. Not that this is the way to hold a bat in play, though the bat so held must be upright; but this exercise of rather poking than playing will inure you to the habit and method of upright play. Afterwards shift your hands to their proper position, and practise slipping your left hand round into the same position, while in the act of coming forward.

But be sure you stand up to your work, or close to your blockhole; and let the bowler admonish you every time you shrink away or appear afraid of the ball. Much practice is required before it is possible for a young player to attain that perfect composure and indifference to the ball that characterises the professor. The least nervousness or shrinking is sure to draw the bat out of the perpendicular. As to shrinking from the ball--I do not mean any apprehension of injury, but only the result of a want of knowledge of length or distance, and the result of uncertainty as to how the ball is coming, and how to prepare to meet it. Nothing distinguishes the professor from the amateur more than the composed and unshrinking posture in which he plays a ball.

Practice alone will prevent shrinking: so encourage your bowler continually to remind you of it. As to practising with a bowler, you see some men at Lord’s and the University grounds batting hour after hour, as if cricket were to be taken by storm. To practise long at one time is positively injurious. For about one hour a man may practise to advantage; for a second hour, he may rather improve his batting even by keeping wicket, or acting long stop. Anything is good practice for batting which only habituates the hand and eye to act together.

The next exercise is of a more elegant kind, and quite coincident with your proper game. Always throw back the point of the bat, while receiving the ball, to the top of the middle stump, as in figure, page 114; then the handle will point to the bowler, and the whole bat be in the line of the wicket. By commencing in this position, you cannot fail to bring your bat straight and full upon the ball. If you take up your bat straight, you cannot help hitting straight; but if once you raise the point of the bat across the wicket, to present a full bat for that ball is quite impossible.

One advantage of this exercise is that it may be practised even without a bowler. The path of a field, with ball and bat, and a stick for a stump, are all the appliances required. Place the ball before you, one, two, or more feet in advance, and more or less On or Off, at discretion. Practise hitting with right foot always fixed, and with as upright and full a bat as possible: keep your left elbow up, and always over the ball.

This exercise will teach, at the same time, the full powers of the bat; what style of hitting is most efficacious; at what angle you smother the ball, and at what you can hit clean; only, be careful to play in form; and always see that your right foot has not moved before you follow to pick up the ball. Fixing the right foot is alone a great help to upright play; for while the right foot remains behind, you are so completely over a straight ball, and in a form to present a full bat, that you will rarely play across the ball. Firmness in the right foot is also essential to hard hitting, for you cannot exert much strength unless you stand in a firm and commanding position.

Upright and straight hitting, then, requires, briefly, the point of the bat thrown back to the middle stump as the ball is coming; secondly, the left elbow well up; and, thirdly, the right foot fixed, and near the blockhole.

Never play a single ball without strict attention to these three rules. At first you will feel cramped and powerless; but practice will soon give ease and elegance, and form the habit not only of all sure defence, but of all certain hitting: for, the straight player has always wood enough and to spare in the way of the ball; whereas, a deviation of half an inch leaves the cross-player at fault. Mr. William Ward once played a single-wicket match with a thick stick, against another with a bat; yet these are not much more than the odds of good straight play against cross play. At Cheltenham College the first Eleven plays the second Eleven “a broomstick match.”

When a player hits almost every time he raises his bat, the remark is, What an excellent eye that batsman has! But, upright play tends far more than eye to certainty in hitting. It is not easy to miss when you make the most of every inch of your bat. But when you trust to the width alone, a slight error produces a miss, and not uncommonly a catch.

The great difficulty in learning upright play consists in detecting when you are playing across. So your practice-bowler must remind you of the slightest shifting of the foot, shrinking from the wicket, or declination of your bat. Straight bowling is more easy to stand up to without nervous shrinking, and slow bowling best reveals every weak point, because a slow ball must be played: it will not play itself. Many stylish players are beaten by slow bowling; some, because never thoroughly grounded in the principles of correct play and judgment of lengths; others, because hitting by rule and not at the ball. System with scientific players is apt to supersede sight; so take care as the mind’s eye opens the natural eye does not shut.

Underhand bowling is by far the best for a learner, and learners are, or should be, a large class. Being generally at the wicket, it produces the straightest play: falling stumps are “no flatterers, but feelingly remind us what we are.” Caldecourt, who had a plain, though judicious, style of bowling, once observed a weak point in Mr. Ward’s play, and levelled his stumps three times in about as many balls. Many men boasting, as Mr. Ward then did, of nearly the first average of his day, would have blamed the bowler, the ground, the wind, and, in short, any thing but themselves; but Mr. Ward, a liberal patron of the game, in the days of his prosperity, gave Caldecourt a guinea for his judgment in the game and his useful lesson. “Such,” Dr. Johnson would say, “is the spirit and self-denial of those whose memories are not doomed to decay” with their bats, but play cricket for “immortality.”

PLAYING FORWARD AND BACK.--And now about length-balls, and when to play forward at the pitch, and when back for a better sight of the rebound.

A length-ball is one that pitches at a puzzling length from the bat. This length cannot be reduced to any exact and uniform measurement, depending on the delivery of the bowler and the reach of the batsman.

For more intelligible explanation, I must refer you to your friends.