The Sun.
London, England, 1866-04-04 00:00:00

ON BATTING.

Quot homines, tot sententice. As many cricketers
so many different styles of batting. And till a man
has found out his own style, and has ascertained its
limits and its capabilities, its weakness and its
strength, and has so habitnated himself to it that he
may be relied on never to wander into tricks and
freaks—into regions of unfamiliar effort—he will
never be able to bat efficiently. Batting is in this
respect the act antithesis to bowling. In bowling
you never can imitate too much ; in batting you
never can imitate too little. Bowling is a mechani-
cal exercise, and the more mechanical you make it
the better you will bowl. If you can drop all your
individuality, so to speak, and make your arm work
with the monotony and regularity of a machine, and
keep the motion of the rest of your body in exact
time and harmony with the motion of your arm, your
success as a bowler will be assured. Batting con-
sists in freely and easily using such power as you
have at the exact moment when it is wanted. For
this your own eye and your own judgment is the
only guide ; your strength of arm and play of wrist
the only limit; and no amount of study of the play
of others will give you either the one or the other.
A batsman, nascitur non fit ; abowler, ft non nascitur.
It follows from this that you should never estimate
a batsman according to the greater or less perfec-
tion of his style, as compared with some ideal stan-
dard that you may have set up in your own mind,
but according to the efficiency of his style, as de-
liberately adopted by him, be it of what sort it may,
for practical purposes. What does it matter if a
man's style is ugly ? Pretty things are seldom the
.most substantial. And so in batting. Look at a
man's performances, not at the attractions of his
style. Take, for example, Mr. R. D. Walker.
No one can say that he is beautiful as a bats-
man ; but the best bowlers in England
breathe more freely when he walks away from
the wickets. Mr. E. M. Grace, also ; he offends
against every rule, against every tradition, against
every theory, except his own, which is, that every
ball off the wickets ought to be hit, no matter what
its pitch or what its pace. And he not only has
this theory, but he puts it in practice also ; and he
gets more runs, my dear young friend, in one year
than you will get in your whole lifetime. And re-
member that these two gentlemen, so opposite in
everything else, have one thing in common, which
they both know how to do, and which they both do
in the same way, that is, they can stop a straight
ball. Nov, many brilliant hitters cannot stop a
straight ball, and hence their average never comes
up to the expectation of their friends or of them-
selves. But after a man has mastered this diffi-
culty, and has acquired patience enough to enable
him to stop dozens of straight balls in succession
(and if you can stop one, why not twenty ?), then
let him find out his own way of playing the loose
bowling. And when he has found it out, be it awk-
ward or be it easy, be it slow or be it fast, it will
pay in the and, and that is enough. But how ab-
surd, because Mr. Hodson stands with his hat over
his shoulder, like Hercules with his club, for you
or for me to do the same ; or because Mr. Drake
drives a straight-shooter for six, for you or for me
to attempt to do likewise ; or because Wells takes
guard within an inch of her stumps, for you or for
me to imitate him. These, like hundreds of other
boatmen, have their peculiar ways and habits, and
you must have your ways and habits also. First of
all then, get a good practice bowler ; and secondly,
choose your own bat, your own attitude, your own
distance from the wicket for guard, and take no ad-
vice from anybody. If you have any zeal for thegame,
the annoyance of finding your middle stump con-
tinually knocked down will soon make you pretty
ready to stop a straight ball. And when you have
learned how to secure from the snare of the bowler,
the still greater annoyance of being caught out, and
having your newly-acquired science prematurely
knocked on the head, will make you wary of falling
into the gin of an alert field. It is a simple ques-
tion
of whether you are annoyed or not. If a man
finds his ammonia and gentian in the morning
nasty, he will take care not to drink too much
champagne and claret at night ; and if you find it
nasty to be bowled out and caught out, you will
take care not to repeat that dainty flourish which
cost you your middle stump, or that rollicking
swipe by which a watchful cover-point duly pro-
fited. Try to make something of every loose ball.
Never mind if you cannot make as much as you
want. Everyone cannot hit sixes. But two's are
very useful. If there is a nice open place in the
geld, of course you will try and hit there, and then
never mind whether you hit up in the air or across
wicket. The hits may be bad, but they will be
safe ; and a bad hit, like a petty larceny, is only a
bad thing when you are caught at it.

Defend me from a man with one hit ! He is like
a man with one joke—always thinking of it, always
hungering to bring it in, discontented in having to
wait unrelieved of it, only moderately successful if
it does come off, and a dismal failure if he attempts
it at the wrong moment. Besides, after two or
three times, everyone knows his hit by heart, and
the field accordingly, so that he very soon ceases to
profit by his special gift. Just so a man who has
one particular finesse at whist. It goes down for a
night or two, and then everybody knows it so well
that the adversaries reap more advantage from the
knowledge than the partner. Little solitary cases
of excellence are of not much use in the midst of a
desert of incompetence. A man who hits somehow
all round is sure-to be of profit to his side ; a man
who hits brilliantly, but only in one direction, is
nothing worth.

Hurry is the bane of young batsmen. They ap-
pear to think that life is so short that they
must cram enough hitting for a week into an
innings of 10 minutes. Hence those wild move-
ments of the arms ; hence that uncouth plunging of
the body ; hence the furious blows at unoffending
air, while the ball, uncut, undriven, undrawn,
glides silently by. But, patience ! only keep a little
of that energy for a few minutes ; be content to
play a few balls quietly, without attempting to
make runs of them, and the opportunity will come.
You do not always have Grundy and Lillywhite
bowling at you ; you will often play in matches
where you will sigh for a straight ball, but no
ball will come. A glance at the field (particularly,
noting where any weak men stand), a little calcula-
tion of pace and time, and a moderate use of wrist
and muscle, and, behold! the numbers on the tele-
graph will increase in decades with a cheerful and
most exciting rapidity. And when your end comes,
it will be the end of most tolerable players in an
amateur country match—you will be caught by the
worst field off the worst hit from the worst ball
bowled by the worst bowler in the Two Elevens.

Do not undervalue a stick. He may not be orna-
mental, but he is always useful ; for he is disagree-
able—very ; and a disagreeable person on a side is
invaluable, for he spoils the temper of the adver-
saries, and if they lose their temper they lose their
game. He also acts as a check on the impetuosity
of his own side. They curse him, but they know
his worth really. He is medicihe to them. He is
a pill—without gilding. His attractions are not
enticing, but he works. And remember this : he
stops an immense number of good balls, which the
dashing, slashing players of his side would let slip
past them into their wickets. He makes the rough
places plain, and paves the way for success.
1 have prosed, perhaps too much, but some kind
reader might ask, Are there no living types of what
a good batsman should be ? Are there none of
whom you can say, These are men worth looking
at—men worth coming miles to see? and I would
not have him go unanswered. Certainly, I reply;
there are very many whom I would go miles to see,
for lam catholic in my tastes. I like to see Mr.
Fawcett hit the best balls of the best bowler, over
the best bowler's astonished head, ball after ball,
without an effort, without any visible exercise of
strength, and appear as unconcerned and as fresh
after he has scored 100 as I do before I have scored
10. I like to see Mr. Lyttelton raise his arms, for
one knows what is going to fellow before it comes.
I like to see Mr. Mitchell play every ball as it should
be played, but make twice as much of every ball as
anybody else could. I like to see Mr. Drake, and
Mr. Drake's wonderful bat, and the wonderful way
in which the ball flies off it.
I like to see Mr.
Grace play with A crocked bat, and Mr. Norman ,