Captain (to bowler). ‘Call yourself Larwood, an’ goes an’ bowls under-’and.’ Bowler. ‘So would Larwood if the only way ’e ’ad ter keep ’is trousers up was by stoopin’ darn.’
Jardine in his book is very reticent on the point. He devotes several pages to details of the evolution of legitimate leg theory which is really only drawing a red-herring across the track, because, as I have pointed out, leg theory is not body-line.
Learie Constantine in his book Cricket and I says:—
“One could read Jardine’s book from cover to cover and, if it were not for the general excitement about body-line bowling, never discover what the essentials of body-line bowling were.”
He is not far out. However, the following points are of interest.
Jardine wrote: “Though I did not take part in the Test Match against Australia at the Oval in 1930, I have been told on all sides that Bradman’s innings was far from convincing on the leg stump whilst there was any life in the wicket. I am sorry to disappoint anyone who has imagined that the leg theory was evolved with the help of midnight oil and iced towels simply and solely for the purpose of combating Bradman’s effectiveness as a scoring machine. It did, however, seem a reasonable assumption that a weakness in one of Australia’s premier batsmen might find more than a replica in the play of a good many of his contemporaries.” Larwood, in his book, was a little bit more direct, for he wrote:—
“Fast leg theory bowling was born in the Test Match at Kennington Oval in August 1930. A spot of rain had fallen. The ball was ‘popping’. My great friend, the late Archie Jackson, stood up to me, getting pinked once or twice in the process and he never flinched. With Bradman it was different. It was because of that difference that I determined then and there, that if I was again honoured with an invitation to go to Australia, I would not forget that difference.”
Let me first have a word to say re Jardine’s statement. He quotes a 1930 match as the basis for his idea, but completely refutes his own statement by the following reference to a match in 1932:—
“To our surprise we found an almost totally unsuspected weakness on the leg stump in the play of several leading players. This had been particularly apparent in the case of Bradman as early as the second match of the tour, when he came to Perth to play against us.”
The thing becomes entirely ludicrous when I tell you that Jardine did not include in his team against us on that occasion any one of his three body-line bowlers, Larwood, Voce or Bowes. Furthermore, I batted twice on a badly rain-affected pitch, scoring 3 and 10.
He must have been amazingly observant to discover such a weakness in those few minutes.
Unfortunately for Jardine, F. R. Foster put the show away when he gave an interview to the press and said: “Before Jardine left England he came frequently to my flat in the St. James and secured from me my leg-theory field placings. I had no hint that these would be used for body-line bowling. I would like all my old friends in Australian cricket to know that I am sorry that my experience and my advice were put to such unworthy uses.”
Walter Hammond also made no secret of the development of the theory when he wrote on the subject. According to him “body-line” was born in the grill room of the Piccadilly Hotel, London, where Jardine, Arthur Carr, Voce and Larwood worked out the idea. Hammond claims that P. G. H. Fender had suggested to Jardine that he should adopt these tactics. “Jardine,” says Hammond, “spent some days painstakingly analysing all the scoring diagrams which Ferguson, the famous M.C.C. scorer, had made of the Australian batsmen’s Test innings.” It was after this meeting, according to Hammond, that Jardine went to see F. R. Foster.
From my own talks with members of the M.C.C. Team, I understand this theory was discussed in detail on the way out to Australia, a fact which Jardine does not deny. I think readers will be able to judge what type of bowling it was, and furthermore that I was to be the principal target, with the proviso that success against me would, so Jardine believed, automatically mean success against others.
There is a suggestion by Jardine and Larwood that the theory was justified because of alleged shortcomings disclosed by me in my innings of 232 at The Oval in 1930. The following reports of this match from the press hardly support their case:—
1 “Before lunch at The Oval was a glorious period for Australia today, and provided the most courageous batting I have ever seen. Despite the most difficult wicket, Bradman and Jackson gave the English public an exhibition of versatility, pluck and determination rarely seen on a cricket field.
2 “The dangerous wicket helped the bowlers, who made the ball fly, Larwood being particularly vicious. Frequently the lads, after being hit, writhed in pain, but bruised and battered from head to toe, they carried on. Certainly it was a wonderful display of courage to withstand such a terrific onslaught.
3 “This Bradman is lion-hearted, physically and figuratively. He made a double century despite the whirlwind rib-breaking tactics of Larwood. Don was doubled up with pain when a terrifically fast ball struck him in the chest. Shortly afterwards another Larwood ball crashed onto his fingers. It would be hard to realise the pain he was suffering as he flogged the bowling. It was real cricket courage.
4 The Daily Mail comments on “the courage of Bradman and Jackson when facing the fast stuff on a wicket which was distinctly unpleasant after the rain, and when they were hit repeatedly and painfully, but stuck to their task with unflinching determination.”
It is worth recording that I scored 98 runs before lunch in that period when the ball was flying on a rain-damaged pitch, and also that I was given out caught behind off Larwood when I did not hit the ball. It swung away slightly as I played at it. Noticing the swing I turned my bat at the last moment, and was amazed when Larwood appealed (he was the only one who did) and more amazed still when the umpire gave me out.
I have a photo of the dismissal. Duckworth is standing with the ball in his gloves, hands in front of his chest. Anyone who has seen Duckworth make a catch will remember how he would throw the ball high in the air, one foot off the ground and emit a war-cry. In this instance he did not appeal. Neither did Hammond at first slip, who is shown in the photo standing upright with hands hung low in front of him.
I am not complaining of the decision. There have been other occasions when I have been out and given not out. My purpose in clarifying the matter is to prevent anyone thinking Larwood and Jardine justified in their claim or that they can support it by saying Larwood obtained my wicket.
Jardine has made lavish use of quotations in his book, and in the preface quotes a long interview given to the Cape Times by a Mr. J. H. Hotson. In that interview Mr. Hotson refers to Larwood’s habit of reverting to leg theory (after his few opening overs) because he had lost his swing. The inference is clear that such a move was necessary to suit the type of bowling. But it hardly tallies with a photo in Jardine’s book showing Bromley (a left-hander) batting to a leg field, and being caught by Verity at short-leg from a shot made purely to prevent the ball hitting him in the face. Larwood goes to great pains in an effort to prove that by 1932 he had developed amazing accuracy and quotes figures to prove it. He cites this not only as a reason for his success, but also as support for the claim that his accuracy precluded any risk to batsmen.
Nobody would dispute his accuracy. That it was newly-acquired is another story.
I imagine accuracy is gauged by runs scored per over. At least that is the basis used by Larwood, for he quotes figures for 1930, 1931 and 1932. They
