Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Getting cricket into the little boy's the soul


The little boy, holding tightly onto his mother’s hand, was on his first trip to London. A few weeks earlier as a family they had gathered around their new television with its tiny screen to watch the Coronation. Now he was to be allowed to see the sights for himself. Buckingham Palace. Westminster Abbey. And then, if he was very good, Lord’s Cricket Ground. The first Test Match against the Australians had been in Nottingham just after the big Royal event and that was the first time the little boy had seen a live transmission of a cricket match. His mother wouldn’t miss it because her hero was playing - the dashing Denis Compton. She had cried when he was out for a "duck" to that fearsome Mr Lindwall. "It’s not fair she cried, poor Denis". And two weeks later it was Lord’s and now Denis would surely get his revenge. But that was tomorrow and now they would go to the ground and maybe get a glimpse of the players?

The boy’s father had said that Mr Brown might be playing and that the boy must be sure to say hello if he saw him because Mr Brown had been at school with his Uncle Geoff. The sun was shining as they emerged from the Tube and headed down the Wellington Road and round the corner to where the famous Grace Gates stood. There was rather a stern looking man standing outside the gates but the boy’s mother wasn’t to be put off. "Hello Sir", she said, "Could you tell me if Mr Compton is here?" "Well I should hope so Madam as he’s playing tomorrow and even Mr Compton takes a net sometimes. Well speak of the devil here he is now!" The boy’s mother jumped with excitement because there heading towards the Gates with a rather hobbling step was the great man himself. "Oh Mr Compton will you say hello to my boy?" "Hello young man and how old are you?" "Six sir" "And do you like cricket?" "Oh YES sir, very much indeed. Please sir would you sign my autograph book?". "I’ll do better than that - if you give me the book I think I can get the whole team for you".

The boy’s mother was in a slight swoon – she said later she was sure that she could smell her Denis’s Brylcream he was that close. The gateman turned to her "Well he was in a good mood Madam. If you go inside you can sit on that bench and wait for him to return". And then there he was again and with him was a tall man in cricket whites but with a funny white silk scarf around his neck. "Hello Youngster, here’s your book and this is Mr Brown" "Gosh!" said the boy "My Dad says you knew my Uncle Geoff at school". Freddie Brown smiled and looked at the boy’s name on the book cover. "I should say so. Good man - couldn’t play cricket though!"

And that is how cricket got into the little boy’s soul.

 

 

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