AA Thomson writes

My Life in Cricket Scorecards is ten years old. The first post was published on 30 December 2009. The promise was:

Some posts will feature one of these scorecards, some will record going to the cricket now, and some will be on random topics, historical and contemporary.

Which is more or less how it has turned out. Thanks to all who have shown an interest, particularly Brian Carpenter who has twice given me the pleasure of seeing my name in Wisden.

A series of posts that created more interest than most was the re-creation, fifty years after the event, of the 1967 season in England. There were daily posts on Twitter and weekly summaries here. I will repeat that exercise when I have more time, probably focusing on the 1970 season with its splendid combination of cricket—the Rest of the World non-tests and Kent’s first Championship since the First World War—the football World Cup, and a surprise result in the general election.

One of the pleasures of the 1967 project (if it may be so grandiosely phrased) was to rediscover the writing of AA Thomson, then a member of the distinguished cricket reporting team on The Times, along with John Woodcock, Alan Gibson and John Arlott, among others.

It was to be his last season; Thomson died early the following summer. I have picked up five of his books from the Basin Reserve bookstall and similar sources, though this represents less than half of his cricket books (as listed in Wikipedia) and less than a tenth of his total output, which embraced plays, travel, history and even a book of poetry. There is also The Times archive and some copies of Playfair Cricket Monthly from 1966/67 (I was an unusual child in my reading).

The plan is this: to post a daily tweet taken from AA Thomson’s cricket writing. Some days it will be vaguely topical, or follow a theme for the week, sometimes entirely random. I’m off to Sydney on 2 January for the third test between Australia and New Zealand, so something relevant to that seems a good starting point. The way the series has gone so far, I’ll need something to keep me cheerful.

The tweets will be on @AAThomsonwrites. This is a reconditioned account that used to be @Lifeincards, so some readers may already be followers. I’ll link from @kentccc1968, the Twitter account that is associated with the blog. There will be such commentary from time-to-time on the blog as seems appropriate.

New Zealand v West Indies, First Test, Basin Reserve, 1 – 4 December 2017

The third test of the year at the Basin Reserve, but the only one this season. When England are here in three months or so they won’t play a test at the Basin, the first time that has happened since the last time England came here straight from Australia, in 1974/5. A pox on your two-test tours.

The Basin was lovely, just a couple of weeks short of its crimson-clad best, when the pohutukawas are out. We have had the warmest run of December weather in the twenty years I have been in New Zealand, so the bank was unseasonally parched. The crowd was not sparse, but not big. This is the same corrosive logic that undermines the County Championship and, soon, tests in England: don’t play first-class cricket in peak season because not enough people watch. Bookend the season with it instead. There, smaller crowds, what did we tell you?

West Indies’ surprise win at Headingley three months ago added to the appeal of this series. Braithwaite and Hope became players you want to see on the back of their partnership in that game. Mundane prospects can provide interesting test cricket as we found when Bangladesh were at the Basin at the start of the year.

The refurbished scoreboard appeared from its plastic shroud today, installed by Pyongyang Scoring Inc. It has a shiny black fascia, replacing the green one. This is a bit of a pity. A different coloured scoreboard can give character to a ground, but I don’t think that any are left. Canterbury’s white and Worcester’s green have both gone in recent years.

The light bulbs at the top of the board recording team and batsmen’s totals have been replaced by a digital display. The bulbs tested spectators’ eyesight (“is that 8? Or 3? Or 0?”) and mental arithmetic, so are not mourned, but anybody thinking that the considerable expenditure on renewing the board would result in accurate scores being publicly available must stand accused of hopeless naivety. For one thing, the display went blank quite often. For another, during the intervals it would say something like “Welcome to the Basin tea interval in progress” cleverly alleviating the common problem of people mistaking the groundstaff for players, but not letting anybody arriving know the score until play resumed.

The designers of the digital display appear to regard the possibility that any cricketer would have a name longer than seven letters as absurd. Thus the New Zealand captain is William and the West Indies opener B’thwai.

First day

It was the seventies all over again. The West Indies were in town and the bowling was fast and throat-high. However, the chin music was not a Caribbean beat, rather Now is the hour, the time to say goodbye. The chief purveyor of the damage was Neil Wagner, who bowls with the fury of a man who has spent the last two hours on hold with a call centre. His seven for 39 was the best first-day test return for a New Zealand bowler. He’s a bit of a puzzle: a short man (for a fast bowler) who is quick, but not that quick, yet who can get bounce out of a dead cat. It’s the precision that does it, ball after ball homing in on the batsman’s ribs like Derek Underwood’s malicious alter ego.

The spite that the Basin pitch habitually reserves for batsmen on the first morning was not an excuse; just ten minutes before the interval they were 75 for one. When I arrived during the break it was 79 for three; 40 minutes later, 109 for nine as subsidence turned to landslide. Twice in this time, Wagner was on a hat-trick.

First, Shai Hope gloved a legside catch, Blundell’s first in tests. That brought in debutant Sunil Ambris who played his first ball in test cricket confidently down to fine leg. Most eyes followed the ball, so there was general mystification at why Ambris was making his way back to the rooms. He had played from so deep in the crease that his back pad had brushed the stumps with sufficient force to dislodge the bails, thus making him the first in 140 years of test cricket to be out hit wicket to his first ball in tests. Shades of Roy Fredericks in the first World Cup final.

Four overs later, Chase was caught at leg slip, the flared trouser of fielding positions, so long out of fashion, then skipper Jason Holder was yorked first ball, showing that Wagner can make occasional visits to lengths closer to the stumps.

Shane Dowrich helped New Zealand along by setting off from the non-striker’s end with the ball almost in Mitch Santner’s hand at cover point. A direct hit sent him on his way with yards to spare. Kemar Roach and Shannon Gabriel showed more resolution than some of their colleagues up the order in a tenth wicket partnership of 29 taking the final total to 134.

The following day in Adelaide Joe Root put Australia in and has spent the days since in the stocks as a result. Here, Williamson put West Indies in and got no credit at all.

The West Indies’ coach, Stuart Law, blamed his batsmen for playing too many poor shots, but bad shots are sometimes the consequence of consistently good bowling. Wagner was outstanding but was well-supported by the other bowlers, Boult in particular.

The day’s loosest shot was played by Kane Williamson who steered a long hop to gully. Tom Latham was the other New Zealander out this evening, hooking to mid on a ball from Holder that was a tad quicker than he expected. The home team finished the day at 85 for two at the end of a calming evening session where progress was quite slow, but the pleasure of being at the Basin on such a lovely day meant that nobody cared.

Second day

Trevor Bailey used to say of the England attack of the late 80s that they could change the bowler, but not the bowling. This was substantially true of the West Indies here, a little spin from Chase and Braithwaite apart, it was yeoman-like right-arm medium fast all the way. Not that the bowling was poor—the run rate did not rise above three an over until the 90th over of the innings—just that it lacked menace.

Jeet Raval was first out this morning, to a very good ball from Roach that pitched on middle and off and moved away just enough. Raval made 42, which is approximately his average after seven tests. There are murmurings from the media that he is getting out when set too often, but for most of us the fact that we have an opener who gets set is comfort enough. Forty-two after seven tests is a good average and the test opening pair looks of less concern than for some time.

Henry Nicholls got off the mark first ball with a pulled four to long leg. At the other end Ross Taylor looked in another class. On TV Ian Smith observed that Taylor was playing two games, back foot against Holder, front foot against Roach and doing both admirably.

Nicholls gloved a caught behind first ball after lunch, but was reprieved by a third-umpire no-ball call. He is becoming the artisan of the middle order, making the most of his talent with good judgement to the fore. With Taylor he put on 127 for the fourth wicket. The partnership ended when Taylor was out to an lbw review for 93, just as we were readying ourselves to celebrate his 17th test hundred, bringing him level with Williamson and Crowe at the top of the New Zealand list.

Nicholls was caught at fine leg off Cummins for 67, and Santner followed soon after, bowled by a straight one. At 281 for six the lead was healthy but not yet decisive.

Colin de Grandhomme (or deG’Ho as the scoreboard knows him) hooked two of his first three balls for four. We settled back for another de Grandhomme cameo, being careful to reduce blinking to a minimum so as not to miss it. But today’s innings was different from his usual crash-bash 18 or so. The strong hitting was still there, with 11 fours and four sixes, but the wafts outside off were almost entirely absent. It was still quick, a century from 71 balls, the fastest made by a New Zealander except for Brendon McCullum’s 54-ball farewell in Christchurch against Australia a couple of years ago (not forgetting that Nathan Astle got from 100 to 200 against England at Lancaster Park in 2002 in just 39 balls). His minimalist celebration when he reached the century—helmet off, bat raised, get on with it—was very Kiwi. He was caught at long on for 105.

Those of us who question de Grandhomme’s place in the test team must acknowledge that he has produced a test-class performance with the bat to match his six wickets at Hamilton against Pakistan late last year. Such fun to watch too, the village blacksmith come to the city.

De Grandhomme put on 148 for the seventh wicket with debutant Tom Blundell, the Wellington wicketkeeper in for the injured BJ Watling. This broke the New Zealand record against the West Indies held by Martin Crowe and Ian Smith in 1985. More than any batsman I can recall, Blundell’s stance at the crease is that of a baseball batter, knees bent and bat raised above the shoulder until the ball leaves the bowler’s hand. He finished the day on 57 not out but with last man Boult with him. New Zealand were 447 for nine, lead of 313. From tea to close 180 were added.

The Museum bookstall never fails to delight at the Basin test, and today it came up with a beauty. AA Thomson’s Cricket My Happiness. I became reacquainted with Thomson during the exercise of recreating the 1967 season and spent some of the afternoon discovering delights on every page. I have just opened the book at random on page 65 and found this, regarding the young FS Trueman:

Scotland Yard takes no keener interest in the whereabouts of a missing criminal than do the Yorkshire county authorities in the whereabouts of a promising young fast bowler. When Fred Trueman reached the Headingley nets he came under the quizzical scrutiny of Bill Bowes and Arthur Mitchell, who, following immemorial Yorkshire custom, did not tell him how good he was, but noted, without open disapproval, that he had a good action, a strong frame and a strange liking for the hard work of fast bowling. I remember my step-Uncle Walter’s getting angry getting angry with somebody who denied the basic intelligence of cricketers.

“Ridiculous,” cried my ancient relative. “Most sensible chaps in the world. Though mind you,” he added thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t exactly say fast bowlers…”.

Third day

Some expected a declaration first thing, but with three days left it was worth letting Blundell and Boult get what they could. This turned out to be more than anyone expected. Only when Blundell got into the 80s did it occur to us that he stood a real chance of making a century on debut. From then on, the loudest cheers were generally reserved for Boult for surviving, though he is one the more capable No 11s I have seen and ramped Roach for six. Blundell, a naturally aggressive batsman, became cautious as he neared the landmark, perhaps excessively so. He took 19 balls to move from 98 to 100, during which time Boult was dropped off a sharp chance at short leg and survived an (optimistic) lbw review. A celebratory six followed, then the declaration, always a touch humiliating when a last-wicket partnership (here worth 78) has not been broken.

Blundell is the tenth New Zealander to start with three figures and I have been there for the last three, the other two being Jimmy Neesham at the Basin against India in 2014 and Hamish Rutherford versus England in Dunedin the year before. One of the ten was Rodney Redmond, who never played again, and given Blundell’s status as stand-in keeper it was suggested that he might emulate this regrettable feat, but even had Watling been fit to keep in the second test a place would surely have been found for him; he looks good enough to have a future as a batsman.

West Indies began their second innings needing 386 to make New Zealand bat again. Openers Powell and Braithwaite looked comfortable enough (though Powell would have been lbw to Boult had it been reviewed) until Wagner came on (again mysteriously after de Grandhomme) and challenged them to a hooking contest. Braithwaite is too circumspect to respond, but Powell was game and two sixes resulted. But a glancing blow to the helmet may have unsettle him and explained the tame return catch he gave to Henry soon after.

The partnership of 94 between Braithwaite and Shimron Hetmyer was the highlight of the test for the West Indies. Twenty-five-year-old Braithwaite is from Barbados. He has a test average of 37 and a test temperament. Hetmyer is from Guyana and will be 21 on Boxing Day. There is a flair about him that makes the spectator think that they might be watching the start of a considerable career. He led West Indies to victory in the last under-19 World Cup and with Braithwaite and Hope may be the foundation of the best West Indian test batting line up for a generation. It was a surprise when he was out to a leading edge off Henry for 66 in 89 balls. Braithwaite and Hope took West Indies through to 219 for two at the close.

The bookstall spread its stardust once more. The Playfair Cardus, a collection of Sir Neville Cardus’s writing for the Playfair Cricket Monthly in the 1960s. This was particularly interesting given Backwatersman’s recent piece on Cardus, who (here at least) is not quite as readily quotable to the modern reader as Thomson Most of the pieces are nostalgic, particularly about the heroes of his youth, above all Frank Woolley. It is idealised, of course, but if you can’t be romantic about cricket, what is left?

I wasn’t there on the fourth day. Braithwaite went for 91 at 231, the first of eight wickets to fall for 88 runs. New Zealand won by an innings and 67 runs.

Reflections on Recreating 1967

I’ve always been one for the big project. Just a year after that which has been the subject of my summer-long journey through the English cricket season, I embarked upon playing the entire 1968-9 Football League season on Subbuteo. All four divisions. As I recall, the enterprise was suspended after the 92 clubs had played three games each with Queen’s Park Rangers at the head of the First Division, the only team on maximum points. QPR were bottom of the real table that year (but I had already learned that Subbuteo could not promise realism when Geoff Boycott cover drove Graham McKenzie for six off the first ball of a test match—another project was a pioneering home-and-away cricket test league, also in abeyance these five decades).

So it is satisfying to have at least completed the exercise of recreating 1967 day-by-day.

It turned out to be more of a time-hungry exercise than I had expected. Friends and acquaintances who are not cricket people may wonder why they haven’t heard from me since mid-April; piles of unread books threaten to block out the light at Scorecards Towers.

My 40 hours at work are usually chalked up by Friday, so that became writing day, the aim being to prepare tweets for the week ahead and to write the weekly summary. I’ve never found it much of a problem to write to deadlines set by others. When I was reporting domestic cricket in New Zealand for CricInfo there were up to eight deadlines a day to meet, usually achieved without undue angst. But self-imposed deadlines, being without meaningful sanction, are the League of Nations of procrastination deterrence, so often Friday’s tasks would encroach right across the weekend. I would send out the tweets before going to work (about 8 pm in the UK) and file the summaries over the weekend.

In my introductory piece I said that the series would draw upon as fine a collection of primary sources as cricket blogging has seen: diaries, journals, letters, magazines, and anything else that mentioned the summer of ’67. Nothing but empty promises. In the event I rarely used anything other than The Times archive, for two reasons. The first was time, the second that The Times provided such a wealth of material, on cricket and the wider world. Say what you like about Rupert Murdoch, but he gives good archive.

The Times’ cricket-writing team of 1967 was as good as there has been on one paper. It was headed by John Woodcock as cricket correspondent. Nineteen-sixty-seven was not Woodcock’s favourite year, but good writing is always a consolation for bad cricket. Alan Gibson was in his first season as a regular Times writer and AA Thomson was in his last. Though not as yet spending long hours on the platforms of Didcot, Gibson captured the joy of being at the cricket, without necessarily expecting any to be brought by the cricket itself. Thomson is rarely mentioned among cricket’s finest writers, but he should be. Anybody at one of 1967’s many tedious days who happened to have that year’s Wisden with them could have sought relief in Thomson’s memories of the 1902 season. He was recalling the summer when he was eight, just as I have been these past few months:

My information came from two main sources: my step-Uncle Walter and Wisden Cricketers' Almanack for 1903. I learned, as history students must, partly from patriotic narrative and partly from sober factual report. 

Uncle Walter, now in heaven, departed this life in 1935, not long after Yorkshire's innings defeat by Essex at Huddersfield. (At 87 he should have been sheltered from such shocks.) Wisden for 1903 happily sits in front of me. If the B.B.C. were to maroon me on a desert island and, according to their pleasant custom, demand to know what book I should like to take with me, there would be no difficulty. 

Pickwick I know by heart and, though I revere Tolstoi, to read War and Peace under the breadfruit trees would be too much like starting to watch an innings by J.W.H.T. Douglas and waking up to find that Trevor Bailey was still batting. But Wisden for 1903 is the prefect [sic] companion. It has almost everything the heart of man could desire.

There was also John Arlott, furtively in the Thunderer’s pages for a few weeks as John Silchester, as if straying from Le Carré and filing his reports via dead-letter drop. Peter West too, with others called in from their main duties on elsewhere on the sports pages, including UA Titley and Vivian Jenkins from rugby and Gerald Sinstadt from football.

I did deliver on the promise to reflect what was happening in the wider world (“what does he know of cricket…” etc). However, this turned out rather differently to how I had expected it to. I assumed that there would be sober commentary on the great events of the day, particularly the Vietnam War and the race riots in the United States. In fact, these issues were barely mentioned. Instead, readers were more likely to be told about Brian James Lee Walters aka William Frederick Walker, who was jailed for posing as a parson (and marrying nine couples); Gilbert Clark of Fishponds, whose late wife left their house to a dog’s home; or Arthur Strickland, who offered to shoot the Queen’s pigeons for free. Had I been transported back to 1967 with a copy of The Times and my Blean and Khandallah correspondents for company, it is this sort of stuff that I would have read out to them rather than the big issues, so my brief of reflecting what they were talking about around the boundaries was met rather well.

Making the past unfold day-by-day made me reconsider my view of those events more than I had expected it to. Hindsight is both the historian’s best friend and their finest adversary.

Will I do it again? Yes, certainly, but probably not while I am working full time. Of course, it need not be over a full season; maybe a World Cup, or even a particularly good Canterbury Week (1972?) would be an appropriate subject. But I will do a full season at some point. Nineteen-seventy would be the most likely subject: Kent’s first Championship since the First World War, a cracking, status-deprived and somewhat forgotten and series between England and the Rest of the World plus a football world cup and a general election. A bolder choice would be 1906, Kent’s first Championship year, or 1914 or 1939, years in which the even the most narrow-visioned cricket nut must have acquired a bit of perspective. It would be interesting to conduct the exercise in partnership with others who would look at events through another county’s lens.

I have been encouraged by the interest shown by some readers, particularly other bloggers. The generosity of this community says plenty about our common enthusiasm. However, any hubris that I might have developed was expunged a few weeks ago when a photo of our dog on election day posted with the hashtag #dogsatpollingstations received more retweets in the first hour than any of the cricket tweets has in total.

As @kentccc1967 has more followers, I will continue to use it as my link to My Life in Cricket Scorecards and for other cricket matters, which means that @lifeincards will fall into abeyance.

The new season in New Zealand starts next week, so watch this space.