Wednesday, November 08, 2006

The Croucher stalks back

You simply cannot have enough of some special cricketers. The experience gets significantly more pleasurable if you can sense the author sharing your boundless admiration for the subject.

Christopher Pierpoint's narration of an anecdote concerning a young Neville Cardus adequately sums up the legend of Gilbert Jessop:

A favourite story about Jessop is one told in the first person by Neville Cardus. As a small boy one day at Old Trafford when Lancashire were playing Gloucestershire, Cardus missed the last few minutes before lunch to buy his drink of lemonade for the interval. He was so short that his head barely came above the bar counter, and he had just given his order when there was a tremendous noise and the glasses on the counter, together with other items of crockery, were sent crashing in all directions.

Young Cardus thought the end of the world had come, but the barman had seen it all before and was able to reassure him. "Don't worry, son," he said. "It's only Mr Jessop just beginning his innings."

Here is an earlier post on The Croucher, who was also called the Human Catapult across the big pond.

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