Enchanted as an eight-year-old by Hutton's heroes (28 April 1999)

28 April 1999

Enchanted as an eight-year-old by Hutton's heroes

Tim Rice

Cricket lovers are often asked why they love cricket. This is not always a question posed in a manner implying that the lover of the great game is off his trolley, though it generally is, for anyone having to ask that question has clearly not been even momentarily captivated by cricket's beauty, subtlety, excitement, delicacy, brute force, speed, leisurely pace and personalities, to name but a few of its delights.

The answer to the question is not easy - why does anyone like anything? Over to the philosophers. But the people who play cricket are surely one of the main attractions, or should be - we all need heroes more than we need to be called Sabres or Phoenix, even more than we need floodlights or two divisions.

I cast no aspersions upon the current members of our national side, but I reckon I was particularly lucky to be a nipper when Len Hutton was at the helm. The first England side I was fully aware of consisted of 11 players who not only would waltz into any country's squad today, but who could all be considered serious candidates for any all-time England XI.

Sad to say, only five of these great men are still with us, and the Grim Reaper has been particularly hard on the top of the batting line-up, but their deeds and characters still reverberate around cricket's hallowed halls as if they were still going strong.

The future Sir Leonard himself batted at No 1 throughout the 1953 Ashes series, which I only discovered when, after four drawn Tests, it was coming to an end at Kennington Oval. But what an end. Since the war England had been all but humiliated in three consecutive series, with just one Test victory under Freddie Brown, in 1950-51, to put against four defeats in that same season and numerous drubbings home and away under a declining Wally Hammond in 1946-47 and a noble Norman Yardley in 1948. Bradman, of course, had a lot to do with our problems in the Forties.

But in 1953 it was Hutton who could lay as good a claim as any to be the world's best batsman. And as England's first professional captain, appointed (and by no means with universal support) the year before against India, his undemonstrative steely leadership served England as well as his masterly batsmanship. Pressure existed in 1953, only it wasn't mentioned in polite circles.

Hutton coped and did not buckle. He scored more runs than anyone else in Tests that summer and perhaps his worst mistake was to get run out in England's second innings at the Oval when the Ashes were all but won. Today he might also have got into trouble for being photographed having a quiet fag on the balcony as he acknowledged the crowd's victory appreciation.

His opening partner was Bill Edrich. Few began their Test careers with less success than W J Edrich in 1938, but his immortality had been long assured by 1953. This was largely because of his phenomenal exploits with his lifelong Middlesex friend Denis Compton in 1947, when Compton (D) broke every batting record, in the book and Bill would have but for Denis. There had been many other triumphs for county and country for the Middlesex duo, but none was sweeter than their unbroken partnership which sealed the Ashes win that August. The supreme entertainer, Compton thus renewed his lease as the nation's most famous and loved sportsman.

Peter May, still by general consent the best English batsman to have emerged since the Second World War, batted at three between the Middlesex pair. He played two important innings at the Oval. In 1953 he had not quite secured an automatic right to a place in the side, but few doubted he would soon do so and he was already being thought of as Hutton's obvious successor. Tom Graveney was at five, already the most graceful of players, not yet as consistently commanding as he was to be in later years. Has England produced a finer professional batsman since 1945? Only Ken Barrington, a very different stylist, challenges.

Then we come to the all-rounder, Trevor Bailey. Suffice it to say that if it hadn't been for Ian Botham, we would still be wondering why we couldn't find another Bailey. T E Bailey was good enough to play for England as either a batsman or a bowler - surely the only definition of a true all-rounder. In 1953 he saved one of the Tests with the bat, and another with the ball.

Actually there were two all-rounders. Godfrey Evans batted at seven and very often scored crucial runs, either at breakneck speed or with unyielding stubbornness, as requested. But Godders was also the world's best wicketkeeper. In this fifth Test he kept to a staggering, indisputably great quartet of England bowlers: Laker, Lock, Trueman and Bedser.

Jim Laker's crazily brilliant summer against Australia (19 for 90 and all that) was still three years away, but he gave an advance warning of it in this match. He and his long-time Surrey colleague, Tony Lock, spun Australia to defeat in their second innings, leaving England not much over a hundred to win. A good deal of the damage in Australia's first innings had been inflicted by young 'Fiery Fred' Trueman and the man who for so many years had been England's attack all on his own, Alec Bedser. The all-time world list of better fast and medium-fast bowlers than these two is short. The future Sir Alec took 39 Australian wickets in 1953.

What a team! Not one was just passing through. All hold their own in the greatest of company. No wonder an eight-year-old got hooked.

Source :: Electronic Telegraph (https://www.telegraph.co.uk)