Spirit On The Water (18 page)

The war in Europe of course was still not over but when it finally was, in May 1945, five ‘Victory Tests’ were arranged around the country between an England XI led by Hammond and an Australian XI made up of Australian servicemen. Then, at the end of August, there was a showpiece match at Lords between England and the Dominions.

It was a classic game, described by
Wisden
as “one of the finest matches ever produced.” In the context of the end of six years of world war, it certainly was. Wally Hammond captained England and Learie Constantine captained the Dominions. Keith Miller, a pilot with the RAF and not yet a Test player for Australia, scored a
spectacular 185. The gifted Martin Donnelly had joined the New Zealand Expeditionary force as a private, moved to the Armoured Division, fought through the Italian campaign and arrived in England in 1945 as a Major. He scored a brilliant 133 for the Dominions. Wally Hammond scored a century in both innings for England. Learie Constantine, a black man leading ten white men, was outstanding in the field. His run-out of Phillipson precipitating a narrow victory for the Dominions.

County cricket resumed in 1946 and Hammond was back captaining Gloucestershire. He was top of the national averages once again that season and a tour of Australia was planned for the following winter. Having converted from professional to amateur in 1938 and captained England just prior to the war, Hammond was the natural choice to be captain. There were however lots of reasons for him not to go.

He was still the best batsman in England, even at the age of forty-three, but his physical powers were on the wane. He had been invalided out of the RAF at the end of 1944 because of fibrositis. (Strangely, both Bradman and Hutton were also discharged from the services on medical grounds.) The fibrositis affected Hammond’s back and could strike at any time. He often played in pain in the summer of 1946 although few knew about it.

Even more pressing than his physical problems was his love life. His divorce proceedings were going through and he had brought Sybil, his wife-to-be, over from South Africa. Going on tour to Australia meant leaving Sybil on her own in England for over six months. She moved in with his mother although the two did not get on well. Despite the misgivings he must have felt, Hammond agreed to go on the tour to Australia; indeed he was keen to have one more go at the old enemy and bring back the Ashes. It would be a fitting climax to his career.

The boat voyage to Australia was relaxed and the England captain put his domestic troubles behind him. He saw the trip almost as a goodwill mission after both countries had suffered so much from the ravages of war. Bradman, with memories of the ‘Bodyline’ tour and England’s 903 for 7 at the Oval in 1938, was to see it rather differently. The tour started well and Hammond scored a double century against Western Australia. Then, before the First Test, he received a phone call from Sybil. She couldn’t get on with his mother and was moving out. She knew very few people in England and must have conveyed how miserable she was in a strange, cold, wet and ration-ravaged country.

Hammond, a difficult person at the best of times, immediately became withdrawn and hardly spoke to his team mates from then on. Much to the chagrin of his colleagues, he and the tour manager, Rupert Howard, used to travel by car between destinations. The rest of the team went by train. You don’t have to have been on a management team building course to spot that this arrangement may not have been very conducive to team morale.

Details of Hammond’s divorce were discussed by the press in England and then regurgitated in the newspapers in Australia. His back was giving him a lot of trouble. He had the mental turmoil of wondering whether ‘the love of his life’ would decide to abandon England and go back to the warmth and comfort of South Africa. Hammond was a man under extreme pressure. Not surprisingly, it affected his cricket.

Brian Sellars of Yorkshire CCC fame, a wonderful human being who once reprimanded Brian Close for calling Billy Griffith ‘Billy’ instead of ‘Mr Griffith’, did his bit to help. He was an England selector but was in Australia reporting for the
Yorkshire Evening Post
. Seemingly he saw no conflict of interest in these two roles and his press reports contained a continual stream of adverse
comments about Hammond. Sellars probably would have said it was intended as constructive criticism but it is doubtful that Hammond saw it that way.

There was to be no repeat of the heroics of the 1928/29 tour. In the first four Tests, Hammond scored a total of 168 runs at an average of 21. Debilitated by his fibrositis, he was unable to play in the last Test. Australia’s captain had rather better luck. Having scratched around for 28 in his first innings, Bradman survived a catch by Jack Ikin off Bill Voce. All the England team and most of the crowd thought he was out. Bradman, as was his right, didn’t walk and the umpire gave him not out. He went on to score 187, and a lot more runs in the remaining Tests.

England lost the series 3 – 0. The weather, the umpiring and the fact that the team were just not good enough, all conspired to make Hammond’s last visit to Australia a disappointing one. He did not protest or complain. He may have been taciturn and moody to the point of being morose but he was a genuine sportsman. The Australian public were warm in their treatment of him in the end. They recognized the dignified way that Hammond handled a difficult situation. Clif Cary, an Australian journalist, wrote: “Hammond did not think of himself. He displayed tact and diplomacy in the interests of cricket and wherever they went his colleagues were welcomed and liked.”

There was one Test match in New Zealand on the way home. Hammond’s back had recovered sufficiently to enable him to play and he scored 79 in a rain affected match. Apart from turning out for the MCC against Ireland in 1950, when he scored 92 not out, and an ill advised final appearance for Gloucestershire against Somerset in August 1951, that was it for Hammond as far as the first-class game was concerned. He married Sybil the day after arriving back from New Zealand. They moved into a house
in Gloucestershire and by all accounts this was the happiest few years of Hammond’s life. They later emigrated to South Africa and settled in Durban.

Walter Hammond was indisputably one of the greats of the game. His outstanding performance during the 1928/29 tour had set a marker that only Bradman has been able to better. He lost a whole year of cricket thanks to Lord Harris, another year to illness and, like so many other players, six years to the war. He still managed to score over 50,000 first-class runs at an average of 56.

The final tour to Australia in 1946 was a tour too many for Hammond. Had he not gone, he would have joined Bradman, Pollock, Headley and Sutcliffe in achieving the Holy Grail of a Test batting average of over 60. As it was he had to settle for 7,249 runs at an average of 58.45. In spite of all his idiosyncrasies, he was a modest man and he would have settled for that. 

In 2010, the Ash Tree Cricket Club decided to go for the Balearic hat trick. We had spread our largesse to Menorca and Mallorca; it seemed only fair to extend it to Ibiza as well. Luckily, one of our players knew the island well. In fact Mark, the one who raised the tea-making stakes by providing port and cheese, went there so often that it was almost his second home. He offered to organise the flights and hotel if there was enough interest for a tour within the club. His offer was accepted before he had finished the sentence.

Deposits were secured from a quorum of players and a game was fixed up for the 22
^nd
May with the ICC (Ibiza Cricket Club, not the other lot). For some reason, whenever I told people I was going to Ibiza, they would start laughing.
The Rough Guide to Spain
describes Ibiza as “an island of excess…….. famous for its clubbing scene.” Cricket clubs were probably not what they had in mind but it would do for us.

Our Chairman, also called Mark, was due to celebrate his 65
^th
birthday the day before the match. By his own admission, Mark is no great shakes as a cricketer. His batting ambition is to reach double figures – for the season. His bowling could probably best be described as “very slow filth”, although he did get a hat trick a few seasons back when three batsmen in a row almost got a hernia trying to hit him into the next county and all missed.

Mark was one of the founding members of the Ash Tree CC when it began nearly forty years ago. He has been the guiding
spirit of the club through good times and bad. Without him it is unlikely that the Ash Tree would have survived. So, it was really him that was responsible for us all being up at 4 o’clock in the morning heading for Manchester Airport.

In a bold but unsuccessful attempt to bring the average age of the touring party down below fifty, Mark had invited his son and son-in-law along to Ibiza. Both James and David had played for the Ash Tree in the past but had moved away some years ago and found better things to do with their lives. On reflection, it’s difficult to think of many better things to do than play cricket for the Ash Tree but some people feel the need to move on with their lives I suppose. Although neither played regular cricket these days, or indeed any cricket, they had played in the past and, most importantly, were young, compared with the rest of the team anyway.

The early flight from Manchester left on time and somehow it didn’t feel strange ordering a gin and tonic with breakfast at 7.30 in the morning. This may not have been quite in the David Boon
23
league of drinking but it started the tour off nicely.

Glorious sunshine greeted us when we arrived in Ibiza. The two mini-buses were ready and waiting and soon we were heading for our hotel in Santa Eulalia on the east coast of Ibiza. If you are looking for an acid house, techno trance, clubbing marathon
experience then Santa Eulalia is probably not the place for you. It does, however, have plenty of cafés, bars, and restaurants, which was just fine by us.

The
Tropic Garden Hotel
was only a five-minute walk from the town and we soon headed off for our first beer of the day followed by lunch at a restaurant overlooking the port. Lunch seemed to merge seamlessly into dinner with only a stroll down the mile-long sea front promenade in between.

We were not only acclimatising and checking out the local sights, we were also on a recruitment drive for an extra player. Unfortunately for him and us, Bill, one of our best batsmen, had to cry off at the last minute. Our touring party therefore consisted of ten players and two ex-players. Of the last two, Calvin might have been tempted if all the bowling was going to be buffet style
24
but that was highly unlikely. Martin, the other ‘non-playing’ tourist, could rival Barry Sheene for the number of operations on his legs but said he would play if we couldn’t find anyone else.

Mark, the organiser, was confident that we would find a likely candidate in one of the local bars but by the end of the evening we were lucky still to have ten players standing, let alone find an extra one. It would be bad form to turn up a player short. The Ash Tree prides itself on three things: playing the game in the right spirit, always putting out eleven players and the quality of its teas. We had one more recruitment opportunity the next day.

We had planned a special lunch to celebrate the birthday of Chairman Mark but before that, we were going to have some cricket practice. This took the form of a game of beach cricket in full public view. Potentially embarrassing but it might attract some likely candidates for the team. One guy – youngish and a cricketer – watched for a while and was keen to play. His wife seemed less
enthusiastic but marital strife was averted when it was established that they were flying home the next day and the timing meant that they might miss their plane if he played.

We continued with our intensive practice on the beach. The bounce was low and slow. The bowling was reduced to gentle lobs that were either dispatched with great force or missed completely. With a trademark pull to leg, Chris smashed his first ball in the direction of the beach bar where Martin and Calvin were sitting watching the game and supping their beers. Martin nonchalantly put out his right hand and caught the ball without spilling a drop from the glass held in his other hand. We had found our eleventh player. As long as Martin could take his chair and beer along, he’d be fine.

Our power hitting had burst the special ‘cricket tennis ball’ which had come all the way from Australia. Three local replacement balls purchased at the beach lasted even less time and so there was nothing left to do but go in search of our lunchtime destination. This was
Yemanja
, a beach-side restaurant at Cala Jondal in the south of Ibiza. We later learned that this location was very much on the A-list and, in retrospect, we were a little disappointed not to be recognised and feted as celebrities.

Nevertheless, we had a good table with fabulous views. With no disrespect intended to the ladies of Macclesfield and Bollington, there were sights there that you would not normally see on a walk down Macclesfield High Street. You would have to wear a bit more for a start otherwise you could get a nasty chill.

The food and wine were splendid and the ambience excellent. It was a fine way to celebrate a birthday or indeed anything else. Crawford shared a story with us that he had just read on his iPhone. A man had been apprehended shagging a sheep behind the library in Bollington. Some of the team who lived in Bollington were shocked. They hadn’t realised there was a library in Bollington.

It seems that the world is increasingly divided into those people who have iPhones and those who do not. If you own an iPhone then it seems to take over your life. Rather like the characters in Philip Pullman’s
His Dark Materials
trilogy, who can not survive for long if they are separated from their animal shaped dæmons, anyone who is parted from their iPhone is distraught. Pulman describes these characters as being faceless and with their hearts torn out – unnatural creatures, not of this world.

If you happen to see someone like this wandering around, it probably means that they have lost their iPhone. It has to be said that iPhones, if used in moderation, can be useful. For instance, checking outrageous claims made by Tony, one of our players on tour. One example was when he claimed that a city in China produces 90% of the world’s socks.
25

iPhones are also great for checking song titles or film titles that are on the tip of you tongue but just can’t remember. They must be very helpful in pub quizzes if you can get away with it.

The day of the match dawned and amazingly all players were present and correct at the appointed time. Our offer to play a second game on Sunday had been declined and so this was to be our only game. As we clambered aboard the minibuses, there was a sense of anticipation among the tourists that could almost be interpreted as enthusiasm. Mad dogs and Englishmen go out
in the midday sun, as the Noel Coward song goes, and we were indeed due to start the match at midday.

Ibiza CC play their cricket on a football pitch and we were keen to check out the Astroturf for pace and bounce and to make sure we had the appropriate footwear. Our attempt to gain a psychological edge by presenting a professional and organised image was somewhat undermined, as we stumbled out of the minibuses into the sunshine, by carrying our cricket kit in two suitcases and a number of carrier bags. As it happened, we had arrived so early that none of the opposition were at the ground. Consequently, we were able to play our first tentative practice shots on the Astroturf with no witnesses.

The opposition captain, called Jeremy, was the first to arrive. He seemed a decent bloke despite admitting to being both an estate agent and a Chelsea supporter, usually a combination to be wary of. Crucially, from an age point of view, he was our sort of vintage and so was his brother who arrived soon afterwards. However, as the rest of the team turned up, it was apparent that the two brothers were the only ones that fitted the normal Ash Tree age profile. The rest of the Ibizan team were twenty somethings and thirty somethings, and looked disconcertingly fit. The smattering of South African and Kiwi accents was also strangely unnerving.

Chris, our captain, began negotiations with Jeremy on the rules of engagement. The Ash Tree normally play 30 overs each innings, everyone bowls three overs, no LBW, batsmen retire when they get to 30 and come back at the end if everyone is out. However, we were the visitors so we would have to abide by what our hosts wanted. Jeremy agreed to the 30 overs – a football match was due to start at 5 o’clock anyway. He wasn’t keen on everyone bowling three overs and eventually we agreed on a maximum of six overs per bowler. Neither was he happy about retiring at 30 so we had
to let that one go. He did agree to the no LBW rule but probably regretted it later.

Looking at the opposition, we all felt that to bat first would be too risky as none of us wanted an embarrassingly early finish. By the time the fourth person had gone up to Jeremy and said that it might be a good idea if they batted first, I think he had got the message. They won the toss and batted.

I opened the bowling one end and David, one of our ‘young’ hopefuls, opened at the other. Very early in proceedings, David strained a hamstring. He managed to complete the over but, although he stayed on the field, he couldn’t carry on bowling. Jeremy, who was umpiring at the time, came over to Chris and said that as David could not complete his bowling stint then our other strike bowler could bowl ten overs if we wished.

Chris looked confused for several minutes before he realised that Jeremy was referring to me. I bowl a sort of military medium in the sense that John Le Mesurier was part of the military in
Dad’s Army
. I had bowled a tidy first over and then had a perfectly decent ball hit over extra cover for six. Chris thanked him for what at the time seemed like a generous gesture but in fact turned out to be a cunning plan.

Fears of a score well in excess of 200 proved to be unfounded. We took wickets at crucial times to slow the run rate and the fielding was surprisingly good throughout, with five excellent catches. Probably the pick of the catches was James’ diving effort at deep square leg. This involved a combination dive incorporating a forward roll with half pike before eventually taking the ball in the prone position, all perfectly executed without disturbing his Panama hat or sunglasses.
26
As it was off me, obviously bowling to my field, I was particularly impressed.

Chris, the heat clearly affecting his judgement, had decided to take Jeremy up on his offer and had brought me back for a second spell, so I ended up bowling ten increasingly tired-looking overs. It didn’t seem to be important at the time but would prove to be significant.

We held Ibiza to 183 for 6 off their 30 overs which was a lot better than we had feared earlier in the innings. If we could get off to a good start, a win was achievable. After much needed refreshments at tea, Mark, the organiser, and David, despite his hamstring, opened the batting. Mark is a big hitter and demonstrated this by hitting his second ball for six. If he could stay in for a few overs, we would be well on our way. Alas, it was not to be. He rather unluckily played on next over trying to hit another six. Hopes now rested with David who in his younger days had been a decent bat. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be his day and after hitting a good-looking boundary, he was bowled. 14 for 2 in the fourth over was not exactly the start we had hoped for.

Chris and Nick now came together and steadied the ship. They saw off the impressive opening bowlers and began to put runs on the board. There was plenty of chat from the fielders along the lines of “great dot ball Jim” and “good areas Robin” but the comments lacked the sense of irony that tends to accompany them in most normal Ash Tree games. 26 runs came off a new bowler in the 14
^th
over, including a huge six over mid-on from Nick, and one could sense that Ibiza were getting a little concerned.

Chris began to carve
27
the bowling all over the park. Playing on a football ground with the cricket pitch marked out length ways from goal to goal, meant that the square boundaries were relatively short. I think it’s fair to say that Chris favours the leg-side. With LBW out of the equation, it was an ideal situation for him.
Boundaries flowed from his bat, mostly through square leg and mid-wicket. Occasionally he would miss and the ball would strike his pads. Anguished appeals continually went up from bowler and fielders despite the no LBW rule.

Hitting yet another six over mid-wicket, Chris reached his 50, a rare occurrence for the Ash Tree given the usual ‘retire at 30’ rule. When Nick was eventually out, caught at deep mid-on, 96 runs had been put on for the third wicket, easily an all time Ash Tree record partnership for any wicket. Crawford joined Chris and the runs continued to come. 50 were needed off eight overs and a famous victory was in sight.