The Ashes: dirty tricks mar a happy ending - Telegraph The Ashes The Ashes: dirty tricks mar a happy ending We reached Dunkirk at 0600 hours to find Jerry in a fearful bate." Ho ho! There has been a lot of sport in the past two days about the great escape at Cardiff, with flotillas of small vessels mentioned in many a vivid dispatch. Look at the evidence: Bilal Shafayat fails to convince Ricky Ponting that he was time wasting at the end of the first Test in Cardiff Photo: GETTY IMAGES By Michael Henderson 7:30AM BST 14 Jul 2009 Whether or not England deserved to reach Lord's on level terms (they didn't), the first Test provided another memorable Ashes event. It did more than that. The proper summer, involving proper cricket, began in Cardiff. After a Twenty20 World Cup that hogged the whole of June, and was declared a thundering success, Test cricket re-emerged in its best colours, to delight lovers of the game and confound those, like William Temple, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who thought it was no more than "organised loafing".

"There can be no summer in England without cricket," wrote Neville Cardus, who did more than any journalist to immortalise the rivalry between England and Australia. Now, at last, the summer has started, with red balls, white flannels (or fleeces, in England's case) and, happily, blue skies. We can smile again, and look forward to four more belters. Outsiders often look at cricket and think: they must be mad; five long days, and no winner. Ignore them. To appreciate a draw is the hallmark of a true cricket lover, and this was no ordinary draw. The pitch was flat, much of the bowling was modest, and England were on the wrong end of the contest, saved ultimately by the rain, which cut a session from Saturday's play. Yet the last afternoon will be recalled years from now, particularly if England go on to win the series. To do so, they will have to buck up their ideas. The captain can make a start by not telling fibs.

"I don't think we were deliberately trying to waste a huge amount of time," said Andrew Strauss, offering a most disingenuous defence of his time-wasting practices in the closing stages, as James Anderson and Monty Panesar kept their bats straight. Related Articles Brian Viner: Sporting glories are the ultimate human drama | The Independent Brian Viner: Sporting glories are the ultimate human drama Sportsmen and women should be lionised by a sense of perspective Tuesday 21 July 2009 23:00 BST Click to follow The Independent Online All sports have their detractors, as does sport as a generic whole, but it is hard to think of any more maligned than cricket and golf. The late Robert Morley "would rather watch a man at his toilet than on a cricket field" while golf has been lambasted this week even by the chief sports writer of a respected national newspaper, who witlessly contended that a sport does not make the pulse race if there is no risk to life and limb. He should try playing golf with my friend Davey, who is quite capable of nutting you with his drive even when you're standing behind him, but that's by the by.

Oddly enough, I last saw this particular sports writer at Wimbledon, where he seemed to be enjoying the Centre Court action even though Roger Federer had every chance of getting out alive, but there we go, golf will continue to be dogged by the hackneyed charge that it requires no obvious feats of athleticism or stamina. And those who don't understand the glory of Test cricket will continue to snipe at it for what they consider to be its frailties, but what in fact are theirs. "I have always looked on cricket as organised loafing," said William Temple, then the headmaster of Repton School, in 1914. It is quite distressing to think that he went on to become Archbishop of Canterbury. Rarely, though, have I felt as sorry for the cricket-bashers and the golf-knockers as I did in the 24 hours between Sunday and Monday lunchtimes.

To watch 59-year-old Tom Watson so nearly winning the Open championship, only to falter, heart-breakingly, at the very last, and the next day to watch the mighty Lancastrian yeoman Andrew Flintoff falling on one crocked knee and spreading his arms messianically wide after taking five Australian wickets to all but clinch the second Ashes Test for England... that wasn't just sport, that was human drama at its most richly compelling. And yet there is an argument that neither Watson nor Flintoff can legitimately be described as heroes, that if a person who dives into a river to save a drowning child is a hero, then golfers and cricketers are something less. Nobody would endorse this point of view more than Watson and Flintoff themselves, men of humility and decency. Another, a greatly esteemed colleague on this newspaper, tells a lovely story against himself, that having invoked the Battle of Stalingrad in his description of an epic sporting occasion he was telephoned by the then-deputy sports editor, who calmly pointed out that 150,000 people died at the Battle of Stalingrad and gently suggested an alternative choice of imagery.

Plainly, sportsmen and women should always be lionised with a certain sense of perspective, which is what the great Australian cricketer and wartime fighter pilot, Keith Miller, was getting at when he was asked about pressure on the field of play, and pithily replied that "pressure is having a Messerschmitt up your arse". But the fact remains that it is what Miller did on the ground, not in the air, that captured hearts and minds. Sport is unique in its capacity to thrill, inspire and move – as Tom Watson did simultaneously on Sunday – and, frankly, all the more marvellous when it does so without any risks to life and limb. The Greatest: Definitions Of The Game Of Cricket | Richard H Thomas The Greatest: Definitions Of The Game Of Cricket The Greatest: Definitions Of The Game Of Cricket Writers As part of a new series, Richard H Thomas searches for ‘The Greatest’ from a certain part of cricket. It might be the best batting track, the best umpire or the best place to watch the game. This week, a big topic: what is the greatest definition of cricket? My youngest daughter is becoming interested in cricket.

Purists may argue that attending two Glamorgan T20 matches may not be quite the same thing, but it’s a start. Over two games, there’s been progress too; we’re not quite ready for reverse swing and whether Mark Wallace should stand up to Graham Wagg’s bowling, but she already knows Jim Allenby always gets runs and would recognise Darren Sammy in a crowd. Moreover, while her Grandfather and I are bewildered by the tunes at the fall of each wicket, she is yet to be stumped by a single lyric. However, for the non-fan, as Keith Dunstan suggests, unless taught at birth cricket will, “like living in igloos, skateboarding and eating tripe” remain “as unfathomable as nuclear physics”. I’d made a decent fist of outlining T20, but realised I’d moved on to explaining Test cricket too quickly. “They do that for five days?” my girl asked with incredulity. “Yes,” I replied, “but slower and without the music”. I suspect she will stick to T20 – which would be great – but it’s a reminder that definitions of cricket are problematic.

Ponting: Changes Required In Australian Cricket There are, of course, plenty of suggestions from cricketing non-believers. Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple for example, called it “organised loafing”, partly reflecting Denzil Batchelor’s claim that Australian spinner Arthur Mailey was attracted to cricket “because you stood around for a great deal of the time doing nothing”. Philosopher CEM Joad showed cricket wasn’t his thing when he called it “a game for two (batsman and bowler) played by 22 players”. Even more irreverently, The Canberra Times claims some will just see it as “grown men wearing white vests knitted by their mums standing on a field for three days trying not to look bored”. With an explanation rooted even further in the past, Richard Holt called it the first team-game where the upper classes had to exert themselves “without the aid of a horse”. Other knockabout descriptions start with the almost sacrilegious “it’s like baseball but….”, while the one that starts “there are two teams, one in and one out” will not be reproduced here; if you want to read it, buy the tea towel.

Bill Bryson raises more of smile with his assessment that cricket has no problems that introducing golf carts wouldn’t fix. Not wishing “to denigrate a sport that is enjoyed by millions, some of them awake and facing the right way,” he observes, cricket is unique in that “spectators burn as many calories as players”. I can only presume he never saw Derek Randall. The main protagonists, he continues, “wear riding hats, heavy gloves of the sort used to handle radioactive isotopes, and a mattress strapped to each leg”. Finishing with a flourish, he suggests games last so long that by the time they finish, “autumn has crept in and all your library books are overdue”. Good for a chuckle, but it’s hardly going to hook the unconvinced, and neither is the pithy observation by Peter Roebuck, who often had a testy relationship with cricket and the people in it. “A dry game,” he suggested, “in a wet land”. There are more personalised expressions too. The Friday Times in Karachi defines it in terms of one man – Sachin Tendulkar .

“He embodied its grace, its grit, its struggle with adversity, its moments of uplifting triumph,” they suggest, and “its celebration of sublime human talent”. Similarly, Steve Waugh suggested Australian cricket will be defined by Don Bradman “for the next 400 to 500 years”. Among the most utilitarian descriptions, Australian crime reporter John Silvester even raises the idea that given its professional status, cricket simply represents a job of work. Sledging therefore, contravenes anti-bullying laws; if Channel Nine turn the stump mics down so it can’t be heard he says, “they could be charged with conspiracy to pervert the course of justice”. The greatest definition of cricket must be something more enchanting. In his 2011 Sprit of Cricket lecture, Kumar Sangakkara came close when he suggested cricket was capable of “bringing nations to a standstill; a sport so powerful it is capable of transcending war and politics.” Victorian Andrew Lang almost nails it too, with his “cricket is a liberal education in itself and demands temper, justice and perseverance”.

So too does Edmund Blunden when he proposes cricket is “more than a science” and is instead “a wheel of fortune, and a drama of personalities…, a poem, a vision, a philosophy”. Mathematician and cricket fan GH Hardy summarises the feelings of many hopeless addicts by suggesting that “even if I knew I was going to die today, I think I would still like to know the cricket scores”. The great definition of all, I suggest, emanates from the unlikeliest of sources in the unlikeliest of circumstances. Douglas Jardine polarised opinions during Bodyline, and was not one apparently given to purple prose and lyrical descriptions; Pelham Warner described him as “a very difficult fellow” who says “cruel things” using “poor language”. The Aussies didn’t see much good in him either – indeed The Melbourne Truth suggested mid-series that if there had been a “most-popular-man-in-Australia” competition and Jardine was the only contestant, he still wouldn’t make the top three. However, during a speech in New Zealand, Jardine captured cricket in one splendid sentence.

“This beautiful, beautiful game” he said, “that is battle and service and sport and art”. Elitist and from a bygone age perhaps, but for me, it does the job perfectly. In future, I may even use it in my attempts to convert non-believers. If they refuse to see the game as Jardine describes – an aesthetic blend of selfless commitment, unconquerable spirit and the deftest of skills – I might point them to Moeen Ali ’s unforgettable innings at Headingley. If they still don’t get it after that, then perhaps cricket just isn’t for them after all. Derek Pringle column – Cricket must fight this threat to its future…The Cricket Paper | The Cricket Paper by admin in Columns with 0 Comments It was at boarding school in Essex that I first discovered the glory of cricket on a perfect English summer’s day. Before that the hot, dry grounds of Nairobi, with their mostly matting pitches, provided functional retreats rather than inspirational ones, though there were one or two there that could conjure the same effect. Those days of school cricket in England were halcyon indeed.

We had a talented team, a wise cricket master, a brilliant coach in Gordon Barker, a former Essex player with the gift of Yorkshire gab, and no pressure from tutors or housemasters about summer term exams. We also boarded, or 99 per cent of us did, with just two exeats each term allowed, so the team spent long hours together like a county side. I tell you all this because English cricket has relied on public schools, and by extension the universities, for some of its best players ever since cricket became organised in the 19th century. Mostly there has been a strong link, though the relationship is now under threat on several fronts, all of them likely to reduce the amount of youthful talent taking up the game with anything like intent. It is something cricket can ill afford given so few schools in the state sector even bother to play the game at all anymore. The first problem is that few pupils board full-time these days, the costs of doing so being prohibitive to all but the very rich. That means most parents who have children at public school pick up their sons and daughters for the weekend.

But as one former player of my era told me recently, from his position as cricket pro at one such establishment: “Cricket does not fit into many parents’ schedules any more. They want to pick their kids up at 10am on a Saturday morning so they can have most of Saturday and Sunday at home before they have to drop them back again on Sunday evening. They don’t want to have to come at 7.30pm when the cricket has finished, especially if they have travelled far. It’s understandable, but it’s reducing the pool of kids we can pick teams from.” The point is anecdotal as is the testimony from a former teammate at Essex who says that he has not noticed anything similar at his children’s school. But, he says, most of those who play cricket there have parents who are obsessed with the game so not playing in order to go home on Saturday morning is simply not an option. Where he did think there was a pressure point regarding cricket was over parents wanting their children to excel at their exams. If they felt there was a conflict then many would have no hesitation in banning their children from playing. With such schools costing enormous sums of money, parents, justifiably, want their children to get excellent exam results.

But though it was not so much a problem when I was at school, or indeed even now in some schools, the clash of cricket and summer exams did prevent several talented school cricketers continuing with cricket at university. Only a few weeks ago I was at Fenners watching Cambridge MCCU play Essex when I overheard Chris Scott, the head coach, negotiating with one of his players as to when they might next be available. It wasn’t the following week because he had to revise but the week after was a possibility, depending on what work his tutor set him. It is difficult to run a cricket team on those lines but equally one cannot be critical of the student. His degree is the gateway to his future world. Of all Britain’s major sports, cricket is at the most disadvantage from the way the academic year falls, especially in relation to important exams. Not only does the game take up long hours that could be spent revising, it requires lengthy practice too. I was fortunate my tutor at Cambridge liked cricket but that did not stop him from delivering some fearful rollockings when essays were sacrificed for extra cover drives. If you are bright and organised, cricket and exams need not be an impediment.

Zafar Ansari, who now plays for Surrey and England Lions, got a double first at Cambridge a few years ago while John Claughton, Oxford and Warwickshire, before injury forced him into education (he is headmaster of King Edward’s Birmingham), got a first with applause, the highest accolade there is at Oxford University. Easier still, for cricket’s sake, would be to shift those summer exams to November/December, which is when I took them while at school in Kenya. I spoke to several teachers here about why exams held the position in the calendar they did and none could give me a definitive reason. Further research proffered why there is a long summer holiday in England – something to do with pre-mechanisation in the 19th century and children having to help with the harvest – but nothing as to why exams had to be in the summer as well. Earlier in the year the Daily Mail reported that some key GCSE and A-level exams were being shifted forward so as to fall before Ramadan but only by a week or so, not an entire season.

Anyway, many educators appear to side with William Temple, once Archbishop of Canterbury, who said that cricket was little more than “organised loafing”, so any meaningful change is unlikely. For those who see cricket’s merits, and there are many, these are worrying times for the game and its social context. Cricket is awkward enough to fit with modern lives without having to compete with exams and weekends at home. Until that changes, cricket can do little except continue its battle to attract young cricketers and keep them engaged as best it can. This piece originally featured in The Cricket Paper, Friday April 22 2016 T C 'Dickie' Dodds - Telegraph T C 'Dickie' Dodds 12:00AM BST 20 Sep 2001 T C "DICKIE" DODDS, who has died aged 82, was a dashing opening batsman for Essex between 1946 and 1959; what made him unique, however, was that he hit sixes in accordance with his religious convictions.

"Personally," observed Archbishop William Temple, "I have always looked on cricket as organised loafing." And certainly most cricketers determined to dedicate their lives to God have turned away from the flannelled fools at the wicket. "My heart was no longer in the game," explained the England Test player Charlie Studd after his conversion in the 1880s. "I wanted to win souls for the Lord." And though the Rev David Sheppard allowed himself to be lured back to Test cricket by the prospect of a tour to Australia in 1962-63, that was only a temporary dereliction of duty. But when Dodds joined Moral Re-Armament in 1946, he took the view that the best way to glorify God was to bring the right spirit to cricket (albeit not on Sundays). The game, he explained, "should be a creative activity: it is meant to be a reflection of the Greatest Creator. The more a player reflects the nature of the Creator, the more creative he becomes.

"My battle as I played cricket was always to try to bring myself under God's control, to make not my will, but God's, operative." Such was the philosophy that caused Dodds to become one of the post-war game's greatest entertainers, described by Colin Welch as a "beau sabreur" and "the Cyrano de Bergerac of the eastern suburbs". He was a man who, while frankly admitting his fear of the bumper, was invariably inclined to deposit it in the crowd. Against Dodds, even a great bowler like Brian Statham could find his first two deliveries dispatched for four and six. "Hey Dick, what's going on?" demanded that least malignant of fast bowlers. Conversely, Dodds was not a bit surprised that selfish batsmen, who thought only of their averages, drove away the crowds. Was not crude materialism always self-defeating in the long run? Listening to the wireless one day, he was delighted to hear Ian Botham describe how he achieved his great feats against Australia in 1981. "You've got to enjoy it, let it speak for itself, let it take you over," Botham said.

"You know, Dickie," a priest told Dodds later, "that is a perfect expression of the Holy Ghost." Thomas Carter Dodds was born at Bedford on May 19 1919. His father, a keen cricketer capable of bowling right-arm medium or left-arm slow at will, was vicar at Riseley; his grandfather had been organist at Queen's College, Oxford. One of four brothers, Dodds grew up in a large vicarage where the gardener could be co-opted as bowler, and the boy was soon a cricket enthusiast. When he was nine his father moved to Wymington in Northamptonshire, and Dickie attended Wellingborough School, where he was lucky to find a sports-mad headmaster. In 1931 another move, to Hatton in Warwickshire, meant that he became a day boy at Warwick School. On leaving, he played a few games for Warwickshire Second XI without much success. He joined Barclays Bank and moved to London, and in the summer of 1939 turned out for Middlesex Second XI.

In those days he was chiefly a leg-break bowler; all cricketing ambitions, however, had to be shelved with the outbreak of the Second World War. Dodds served with the Signals in India and Burma. His skill with ciphers gained him a commission, and he ended the war as a captain. In Bombay he played for a Service XI, skippered by Douglas Jardine, who had led England on the Bodyline tour of Australia in 1932-33. When Dodds's leg breaks were hit all over the ground, he asked Jardine if he could move a fielder on the boundary. Jardine was furious: "You and I are amateurs," he barked. "It is only professionals who ask to have their field shifted when they are hit for four." Dodds took part in the advance on Mandalay, and helped to execute the signals deception prior to the capture of the enemy base at Meiktila. He also became involved with a girl who, as he wrote in his autobiography, "had frequently been in the glossy social magazines of India". It was perhaps his unease about this affair that helped to turn his mind to religion.

His girlfriend could not approve of this development, and when he returned to England she presented him with a book of risque stories in the hope, as she put it, that he was still capable of enjoying such things. Later she married a general. In England, Dodds was introduced to T N Pearce, the captain of Essex, who invited him to a trial at Chelmsford. In the spring of 1946, sitting in his father's garden at Hatton, Dodds underwent the religious experience which changed his life: "I decided that, so far as I could understand it, I would from that point only do what God told me to do." Demobbed on May 20 1946, Dodds turned up two days later for his first match, against Sussex at Ilford. That night, after being out for 18 in the first innings, he seemed to receive a clear instruction in his prayers: "Hit the ball hard and enjoy it".

For some weeks, though, he continued to play cautiously, even while conscious that "a God who loved beautiful things could not love the dull old cricket which I played." The turning point came when he and Sonny Avery put on 270 for the first wicket against Surrey, with Dodds hitting his maiden century and winning his county cap. A few matches later, batting against Middlesex, "I felt closer to God than ever before in my life. I tried to fashion the loveliest stroke I could manage for the God who would enjoy them. In return I had a tremendous sense of His pleasure." Dodds played as an amateur in 1946, but turned professional at the end of that season. He spent his winters working with Moral Re-Armament, first in London, then in the industrial areas of Britain, and later in India, Australia, America and Europe. His benefit in 1957 realised £2,325, which he immediately turned over to Moral Re-Armament. Much of it was spent in India. Though Dodds went prematurely grey, his attitude to cricket remained perennially youthful, and he contributed largely to Essex, twice winning the News Chronicle Award for Brighter Cricket.

He retired from the county game at the end of the 1959 season, when he was 40. In his 396 first-class matches he had made 19,407 runs (including 17 hundreds) at an average of 28.75. His best season was 1947, when he scored 2,147 runs. His excellent autobiography, Hit Hard and Enjoy It (1976), was written at the behest of Sir Neville Cardus. After his retirement Dodds worked with the former vice-captain of the West Indies, Conrad Hunte, to promote racial harmony in Britain. Dickie Dodds married, in 1960, Ann Kerr, who died in 1978; they had a son. He married, secondly, Kathleen Johnson in 1985. Wittiest and Funniest Cricket Stories Wittiest and Funniest Cricket Stories Updated on February 22, 2012 Funniest Cricket Stories It's a funny kind of month, October. For the really keen cricket fan, it's when you realise that your wife left you in May.

- Denis Norden, British television writer and compere Playing against a team with Ian Chappell as a captain turns cricket match into gang warfare. - Mike Brearley, 1980 Is there any sex in it? - Peter Sellers, as a psychiatrist upon first learning about cricket in What's New Pussycat, 1965 Say, when do they begin? - Grouch Marx, watching a cricket test match at Lord's Do you still chuckle at a witty Commentator quip ? This lens is a gigantic compilation of all the wittiest , funniest & wackiest stories , anecdotes , commentator's quips, videos from the game of cricket. Hope you will enjoy it and roll on the floor laughing at some of them. There's tons of stuff ! ... And if I truly made your day, don't forget to LIKE and SHARE the lens for the "fun to reach everyone" :D . Thanks all and njoy ! The Wit of Cricket - Funniest Cricket Book Ever ! Dear readers if you like the stuff I have compiled below, you will love this book. This is hands down the funniest book on cricket (and I have read em all :P ) .

A bumper collection of the funniest anecdotes, jokes, and stories from cricket's best- loved personalities. The most popular stories by five of the game's all- time great characters- Richie Benaud, Dickie Bird, Henry Blofeld, Brian Johnston, and Fred Trueman- but also the humor and insights of modern players including Michael Atherton, Andrew Flintoff, Darren Gough, Kevin Pietersen, and Shane Warne. Crammed full of dozens of hilarious anecdotes about legendary Test cricketers such as Ian Botham, Geoffrey Boycott, Denis Compton, Michael Holding, and Merv Hughes- plus broadcasting gaffes, sledging, short- sighted umpires, and the first male streaker at Lord's! Is there any sex in it? - Peter Sellers, as a psychiatrist upon first learning about cricket in What's New Pussycat, 1965 Q: Darryl, who are your favourite actors? Cullinan: Dustin Hoffman and some Aussie bowlers in the act of appealing. Q: What's your favourite animal? Steve Waugh: Merv Hughes. A video montage of Funny Cricket Moments - Dnt tell me it didn't bring a smile ..

coz it did :P Quality is low but the clips are nice. Njoy ! Century Of Cricket Jokes - Wanna gift a book .. try this ! If you are a cricket fan, you will definitely love this book. I bought this book for my friend who happens to be a cricketer and He loved it. You do have to have some understanding of cricket for most of the jokes. Fred Trueman's Witty Quips Fred Trueman's Witty Quips John Arlott, the poetic cricket commentator, raconteur and wine enthusiast from Hampshire, wrote that Trueman approached the wicket 'with the majestic rhythm that emerges as a surprise in the Spanish fighting bull'. Beginning at a steady pad, he gradually accelerated, hair flopping, until he completed his charge in an explosion of malevolent power. Trueman rounded off this spectacle with histrionic gestures of despair, rage or triumph. Arguably the finest fast bowler that England [and of course Yorkshire] has produced, Freddie Trueman's ability did not end there say Will and Guy. He was a splendid story teller and would regale audiences with his "cricketing tales".

Did You Know?Trueman played football for Lincoln City and turned down professional terms to concentrate on cricket. Some might argue that many of his stories were apocryphal; others might remark that it matters not since the tales are fun and indeed funny. We hope you will enjoy the items we have chosen to share with our readers here. FS Trueman's Fabulously Funny Cricketing Anecdotes 'Owzat? Trueman bowls. Batsman is trapped plumb LBW. Trueman appeals. Not out. Next ball. Trueman ever-so-slightly irritated. Trueman bowls. Audible snick, ball deflects and sails upward, caught behind. Trueman appeals. Not out. Third ball. Trueman a little more irritated now. Trueman bowls. Through the gate, stumps spread-eagled, middle stump uprooted and cartwheeling. Trueman turns to the umpire and says with a wry smile, 'We nearly had him that time, didn't we?' ReligionOn the tour of Australia in 1962-63, the Reverend David Sheppard dropped several catches.

'Kid yourself it's Sunday, Rev,' Trueman expostulated, 'and keep your hands together.' Humour of the Self Deprecating Kind [unusual for Fred]The scene was an Ashes test with England fielding ..... 'and I went back to my mark and hurtled into the wicket, a rap on the pads, Howzat? One for none. I went back to my mark and hurtled into the wicket and the bails were off, two for none. Then in came the great Sir Don Bradman. I went back to my mark and hurtled into the wicket, the ball was in the air, a fantastic catch on the long on boundary, three for three hundred and seventy six. HeadingleyOn one occasion, an opposition batsman walking through the gate onto the outfield was told, 'Don't bother shutting it.

You'll be back soon.' Versus Cambridge UniversityWhen a Cambridge University student FS Trueman had just bowled said, 'That was a very good ball, Mr Trueman', he responded allegedly with, 'Ay, 'twas wasted on thee.' I'm Good!He enjoyed being told he was good, too, and along these lines a lovely tale told by Richard Hutton reads as follows: after Freddie had returned yet another of his many five-wicket performances. 'Well bowled, Fred,' he said. 'Outswingers, inswingers, bouncers, yorkers, you bowled the lot. Tell me, did you ever bowl a plain straight one?' Quick as a flash came the reply, 'Aye, one. But it was so fast it went through him like a dose a salts and knocked all three down.' An allegedly true story about Fred on tour in the West Indies Apparently Fred, at a reception during a tour of The West Indies, approached an elegant woman and made a pass at her. She allegedly replied, 'As a woman, Mr Trueman, I am extremely flattered. But, as the governor's wife.

I am absolutely outraged!' Even More Nutty Quotes More Funny Cricketing Tales Bottle of Beer Rahul was having a bad time. He played and missed at every ball and was becoming hotter and more flustered every minute. As the bowler was walking back; the batsman turned to the wicket-keeper. 'Phew,' Rahul said, 'what couldn't I do with a bottle of beer.' The wicket-keeper thought for a moment. 'Hit it with the bat?' The New Batsman Shane, a batsman was new to the side, and in his first innings he did so badly that the crowd began to slow hand-clap and barrack him. Things got worse. The language got more and more abusive, his play-more inept, and finally he was out. As he dashed for the pavilion, rotten fruit and eggs were thrown at him, but he managed to gain the safety of the dressing-room, where the captain was waiting for him. 'Blimey!' panted the batsman, 'they don't like that umpire, do they?' The Great Sir Vivian Richards It was a county match in England between Somerset and Glamorgan.

An unknown batsman with unknown talent, named Vivian Richards was at the crease. Greg Thomas, the Glamorgan fast bowler thundered in and beat the great man's bat. 'It's red and it's round. Can't you see it?', the bowler taunted Richards. The next ball was an action replay. The ball pitched three quarters of length on middle and off, seamed away, and once again Richards was all at sea and comprehensively beaten. 'It's red and it's round and it weighs four-and-a-half ounces. Can't you see it?', Greg Thomas quipped. Richards took a stroll, summoned his powers of concentration, swung his arms around, took a fresh guard and got ready for the next ball. Greg Thomas came running in. The delivery was right in the slot, and Viv launched into one of his trademark shots and smashed the ball out of the ground and straight into the river that flowed around it. Ten Ducks?

Amusing Cricket Anecdote Table-topping Dishforth were expected to beat bottom-placed Goldsborough in the Nidderdale Amateur Cricket League, North Yorkshire, but not quite as easily as things turned out.Goldborough 2nd X1 came close to setting an unwanted record after ten batsmen were out for a duck. Not one of the Goldsborough players scored a single run; although they did clock up five extras. Their opponents quickly knocked off the six runs needed for a win and the game was over. The Dishforth captain Steve Wilson, told reporters, 'If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have thought it possible.The Goldsborough captain Peter Horseman commented, 'It was surreal and embarrassing. We almost got a run, but the batsman turned it down because he' d just been hit on the foot.The maestro told the hapless bowler who almost died watching the ball go, 'You know what it looks like... now go and get it!' Another Funny Cricket Story When England travel to the Asian sub-continent to play cricket we always hear that various players contract ' Delhi-belly' or more correctly an upset stomach, possibly gastro-enteritis.

Change of diet, differing hygiene, weather conditions are often sited as reasons for this malaise. February 2006 saw some five players unable to function properly on the tour in India. This phenomenon was discussed by Peter Allen and Jane Garvey on their ' Drive' programme on BBC Radio 5 live. Alec Stewart, the ex-Surrey and England wicket keeper/batsman and captain was interviewed. He acknowledged that food in the sub-continent could be a problem for English stomachs. He recounted how he took with him on tour 43 separate portions of chicken, mashed potato and broccoli and ate little else. If this isn't amusing enough on its own; when he arrived home in England the first meal his wife gave him......................................? You can guess........................................yes, indeed - chicken with mashed potato and broccoli. Lee Trescothick and Slugger Hammond The opening England batsmen in a one day match against Australia were Marcus Trescothick and a new batsman yet to have appeared on the world stage: his name was Slugger Hammond.Brett Lee, the pace bowler, opened the bowling for Australia.

The first ball went fizzing past the off-stump: 'wooooooooph' , and was collected by the wicketkeeper, Adam Gilchrist.Slugger Hammond did not as much as budge from his place. Lee bowled his second, third and fourth balls: 'woooooooph.... woooooooooph...wooooooooph' . Slugger stood stock still just like a statue. The umpire declared the fifth delivery, 'No ball'. Like a true professional Slugger Hammond went down the pitch tapping away at the ground until he reached Trescothick and said, 'I knew from the very beginning the fellow did not have a ball in his hand. Commentators reading Harbhajan I really cannot read what Harbhajan is doing between his balls. (Radio 4 Commentator Henry Blofeld, on the pre-delivery wrist exercises of Indian off-spin bowler Habhajan Singh.) Ump hits back Cec Pepper was the scourge of Lancashire league umpires, blasting the meek with his belligerant appeals, making the lay preachers blush with his vivid language. The umpire who faced up to him had to be a special kind of human being and George Long was such a man.

George was standing one day at the end where Pepper was bowling, when Pepper made one of his raucous Austarlian appeals for lbw, which was answered by a quiet notout. Whereupon Pepper gave vent to a histrionic stream of invective, throwing in all the stock-in-trade props - spectacles, white stick, guide dog, illegitimacy, bloody minded Englishness and four letter words - all of which George completely ignored. The same thing happened after the next ball and yet again the following one, after which George called 'Over' and walked to his squareleg position, followed by Pepper - obviously disturbed by the lack of reaction from the umpire. 'I suppose you're going to report all this bad language to the league ?', said Pepper. 'No', replied George. 'Ah likes a chap as speaks his mind'. Pepper was obviously delighted. 'So do I', he said smilingly, 'and I must say it is a refreshing change to meet an umpire like you. I'm glad that we understand each other'. 'Aye', said George.

The first ball of the next over again hit the batsman's pad, whereupon Cec whirled round to George, arms outstretched and did his usual Red Indian war whoop. His Howzat was head all around the ground. 'Notout, you fat Australian bastard', said George quietly. The World's Best Cricket Jokes By Ernest Forbes To round up your collection this is the last must have book on Cricket Humor. Again a great deal for the cost ,super fun to read and a great git for any cricket enthusiast.

Question: Which sport did William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury, describe as 'organised loafing'?
Answer: Cricket