Homage to the Kiwis

INDIANS, especially patriotic Indians, look kindly upon cricketers from New Zealand. These are the men who allowed us our first series victory in Test cricket, when they came over here in 1955-56, as well as our first successful series overseas, when we went over there in 1967-68. We can practice on them the affectionate condescension we have ourselves received from the English and the Australians. We can write about them the way the correspondent of the Melbourne Age or the editor of the Wisden Cricketers Almanack used to write about us. "England went on to win by an innings, but only after Vijay Merchant and Vijay Hazare had batted bravely for India," said they. "India won the match, and hence the rubber two-nil, but in a spell of honest pace bowling Dick Motz showed that the best of the visitors are not noticeably inferior to the (worst of the?) hosts," say we.

This columnist has, sad to say, fully partaken of this condescension, in his case by choosing not to write about the Kiwis. In the three years that "Cricket Lore" has been in existence I do not believe I have profiled a single Kiwi cricketer. The recent death of Bert Sutcliffe has shamed me into writing about him and other outstanding New Zealanders I have seen or read about.

Sutcliffe was trained by birth to be a batsman, and more specifically still an opening batsman. His father named him Herbert, so that his first and last names were identical to that of the great Yorkshire and England opener of the inter-war period. But whereas the English Sutcliffe was a careful and orthodox right-hander, this fellow batted the wrong way around, and chose to deal chiefly in fours and sixes.

As the bulwark of his team's batting Sutcliffe succeeded another accomplished southpaw, Martin Donnelly. Donnelly who was also an international rugby player, is best remembered on the cricket field for having hit four 100s at Lord's: one for Oxford versus Cambridge in the University match, a second for Gentlemen versus Players in the then annual struggle of the classes, a third for New Zealand versus England in an official Test match, a fourth for the Dominions against England in the famous "Victory" Test of 1945.

By the time his country came to tour India in 1955-56, Donnelly had retired. But Bert Sutcliffe came, and scored his runs all over the land: 100 in the first Test in Hyderabad, then 70-odd at the Brabourne Stadium, then a brilliant 230 not out in the third Test in Delhi, then two brave 40s in the final Test at Madras, in a match his side lost by an innings. Ten years later he came out of retirement to tour India, remembering perhaps that last time around he had lost out at the Eden Gardens. He was to score 151 not out in the Calcutta Test of March 1965, thus leaving his generous imprint on a pitch most thoroughly walked over by the greats of the game.

Indians may have been condescending to Kiwi cricketers, but the Australians have been positively insolent. Between 1946 and 1973 they did not grant their neighbours a single Test match. Pained by the attitude of his countrymen, the great writer Ray Robinson chose to write, in 1956, a long essay celebrating the skill of New Zealand batsmen. He focussed on Kiwi left-handers, and on Donnelly and Sutcliffe in particular. The essay has a superb reconstruction of an 80 hit by Sutcliffe against the South Africans in a test in Johannesburg.

Early in his innings the batsman was hit on the head by a bouncer from Neil Adcock. He was rushed to hospital, where he fainted while the injury was being attended to. By the time he returned to the ground his side was perilously placed at 82 for six. Sutcliffe walked to the middle, his head swathed in bandages, and savagely attacked the bowling. His innings included 7 sixes and 4 fours, helped his side save the follow-on, and was commended, without undue hyperbole, as "the greatest 80 ever made in Test cricket". But Robinson also alerts the reader to the extraordinary courage of the man who batted with Sutcliffe, Bob Blair. Blair's fiancee had been killed in a train accident in New Zealand the previous day. He now suppressed his grief to partake of a last-wicket stand which, in physical and emotional terms, must surely rank as one of the most courageous ever seen on a cricket field.

In the mind of the Indian cricket fan, the name of Bert Sutcliffe shall always be coupled with that of John Reid. They were the first world-class Kiwi cricketers that we saw play. Reid also came here on the tours of 1955-56 and 1964-65. He was a master of the most glorious stroke in cricket, the lofted drive, and for a long time held the world record for the most sixes hit in a single innings. On his first visit to India, Reid struck an unbeaten 100 in the Delhi Test (adding 222 runs for the third wicket with Sutcliffe), and made another century in Calcutta. Ten years later he was captain, which might explain his relative failure with the bat, a highest score of 82 in four Tests.

While perhaps slightly less gifted with the bat than Sutcliffe, Reid was a more versatile cricketer. He bowled well at medium- pace, fielded superbly close-in or in the covers, and kept wicket for his country on occasion. he was also the most hirsute of cricketers, hairier even than Farokh Engineer. There is a story of his leaving the ground in an upcountry town in South Island with one of those splendidly colonial names, Hampden or Palmerston or some such. It was a hot day, and Reid and the rest of his Wellington side had been running after balls struck around by the Otago skipper, Bert Sutcliffe. Reid walked off the turf at play's end, shirt unbuttoned, head tucked deep into his neck. As he climbed up the pavilion steps a little White child exclaimed: "Papa, they have a blackie playing for them". This was in 1964 or 1965; but blackie has since had his revenge. In his furthest outpost of Empire one can now find a Patel running the corner drug store and a Swaminathan operating the municipal computer.

RAMACHANDRA GUHA

The writer is the editor of the recently released Picador Book of Cricket.

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