Pycroft J: "The Cricket Field" (1851)

The Cricket Field, by Rev. James Pycroft (1851), pp. 23,25

The pest of the hunting-field is the man always thinking of his own horse and own riding, galloping against MEN and not after DOG. The pest of the cricket-field is the man who bores you about his average - his wickets - his catches; and looks blue even at the success of his own party. If unsuccessful in batting or fielding, he shuts up - the wretch concentred all inself. No! Give me the man who forgets himself in the game and missing a ball does not stop to exculpate himself by dumb show, but rattles away after it - who does not blame his partner when he is run out - who plays like play, and not like earnest - who can say good humouredly, - runs enough I hope without mine - If such a man makes a score, players remark on all sides - Our friend deserves luck for his good humour and true spirit of the game.

Add to this, perseverance and self-denial, and a soul above vain glory and in the applause of the vulgar. Aye, perseverance in well doing - perseverance in a straightforward, upright and consistent course of action - See that player practising apart from the rest. What an unpretending style of play - a hundred pounds appears to depend on every ball - not a hit for these five minutes -see, he has a shilling on his stumps and Hillyer is doing his best to knock it off. A question asked after every ball, the bowler being constantly invited to remind him of the least inaccuracy in hitting or danger in defence. The other players are hitting all over the field, making every one (but a good judge) marvel.

Our friends reward is that in the first good match when some supposed Mr Dashwood has been stumped from leg-ball - (he cannot make his fine hits in his ground) - bowled by a shooter or caught by that sharpest of all Points, see our persevering friend - ball after ball dropping harmless from his bat, till ever and anon a single or double are safely played away - two figures are appended to his name; and Caldecourt, as he puts the bails on, remarks, - WeUve some good cricket this morning, gentlemen.

Conceit in a cricketer, as in other things, is a bar to all improvement - the vain glorious is always thinking of the lookerson instead of the game, and generally is condemned to live on the reputation of one skying leg-hit, or some twenty runs off three or four overs (his merriest life is a short one) for half a season.

Thanks to Robin Court (court@titan.trl.OZ.AU) on r.s.c.