The 1967
season ended with the World Cup, which will surprise those who take the
orthodox view that the first World Cup was played eight years later. Neither
was it the first, a similar event having taken place the previous year. The
tournament consisted of a three-match round robin between England, Pakistan and
the Rest of the World XI. All matches were played at Lord’s. The shortening
evenings meant that they were 50-over contests at a time when 60 overs were the
norm, or 40 on Sunday afternoons.
Just as the designation
of the game played in Melbourne in March 1877 as the first test match is
somewhat random, so there is a case for regarding these games as the first
one-day internationals. The quality of the players was more than good enough to
warrant the status, particularly the World XI, with its potent harmony of South
Africans and West Indians. For years I intended to write about these matches as
the first, lost ODIs, but was beaten to it by Philip Barker, who had an
interesting piece on the subject in Wisden
2016.
Eddie Barlow
made an unbeaten 74 against England, then took four for 23 against Pakistan.
Barlow’s name is rarely mentioned when the great all-rounders are discussed,
but it should be on the list, at least. He took 571 first-class wickets at 24,
15 less than his batting average. The margin in his 30 tests is +11. He was
outstanding in the 1970 Rest of the World series, scoring two hundreds and
topping the bowling averages with 20 wickets at 19.80.
The
three-day match at Scarborough between the World and England XIs had been
watched by 30,000, but the one-day tournament met public indifference and was
not repeated, which is odd given that domestic one-day cricket had become so
popular. Perhaps they should have stayed in Scarborough and replaced the rather
dour Yorkshire v MCC game in which Geoffrey Boycott made a century as indigestible
as seaside rock.
My cricket
watching for 1967 concluded at Canterbury for the Gillette Cup winners
challenge match against the touring side, the second and final such fixture. The thing I remember best about that day was a
six hit by Stuart Leary that cleared the famous in-field lime tree. Not the
uppermost branches perhaps, but certainly those that bulged out to one side. I
had forgotten that Alan Dixon took five that day, following the seven in the
quarter-final. Leary and Dixon both had fine seasons.
Yorkshire
beat MCC, thanks to their young off spinner Geoff Cope. AA Thomson was at
Scarborough throughout the nine-day festival, delighting Times readers as he had all season with phrases that said more than
others would manage in a couple of hundred words. Barlow and Nurse’s
partnership “contained every stroke from the book and several daring ones from
the appendix”. Lance Gibbs was “the notorious master of guile, who by
autosuggestion made them in turn pick the wrong ball to hit”. Milburn “had his
leg stump uprooted and the spectators’ tide of pleasure inevitably receded”.
These were
the last cricket reports that AA Thomson wrote. He was too ill when the 1968
season began and died in early June. Here is his obituary:
Alan Gibson
had turned from cricket to rugby and reported from three grounds in three days
in the first half of the week. It was a surprise that the third of these was
Bristol v Cardiff, one of the games of the season in those pre-league days,
oddly scheduled for a Wednesday evening with a 6 30 kick off (presumably there
were no floodlights at the Memorial Ground in those days—they had arrived by
the time I first stood on the terraces in the late seventies, though a full
moon in a cloudless sky would overpower them). Bristol led twice but were well
beaten in the end, no disgrace when the opposition had Gareth Edwards and Barry
John at Nos 9 and 10.
Tony
Nicholls was John’s opposite number, but not at No 10. He would have been
wearing shirt F, in Bristol’s tradition of using letters instead of numbers. It
was confusing when Leicester were the opposition; they also used letters, but
in sequence from the front row, rather than the full back as Bristol did. If
the game was boring spectators could find solace in Scrabble. Nicholls was head
of geography at Cotham Grammar School when I did my teaching practice there (as
a history teacher) in 1982.
Silbury Hill
in Wiltshire was to be excavated. The
Times report shows how little was known about it beyond that it was a
pre-Roman artificial hill. The excavation found that it may date back as far as
2500BC, but deepened the mystery of why it was constructed, as it was found not
to be a burial site. Why would people have spent thousands of hours outside,
subject to the worst of the weather, on an apparently pointless endeavour?
Perhaps they were passing the time while waiting for the County Championship to
be invented.
One of the
things I have enjoyed about the 1967 project is the realisation that there is
little under the sun that is new. This week came a proposal from a civil
engineering company to build an airport in the Thames Estuary, an idea that has
resurfaced in recent times under the new ownership of Boris Johnson.
Boris has
not taken up another bright idea from fifty years ago—the inevitability of
Britain switching to driving on the right-hand side of the road—but it is only
a matter of time.
This ends
the weekly series of pieces summing up the week fifty years ago. There will be
three more posts over the next couple of weeks or so to finish off the 1967 retrospective,
looking at the Gillette Cup final, thinking about cricket now and then, and
reflecting on the process of recreating a cricket season through social media.
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