Harting extract

The launch of the Blackstone Appeal to raise funds for a young cricketers ground took place on Friday, March 17th 2000 at the County Ground, Hove. The headed paper which has been prepared to support the campaign called CRICKET YEAR ZERO poses the question do you remember your first catch ?
CLICK ON PHOTO
The young cricketer of today has a supportive programme either through his School or Club, his District, and/or the County to ensure that he makes good progress in acquiring the necessary skills and plays in games of youth cricket. It compares very favourably with the life of a young cricketers in the early 1950s who had to wait until one of the elderly players was injured to obtain a game of cricket. The photograph reveals the average age of the cricket team in 1953 to be over 50 years of age. I was the only player under 20 years of age.

Extract from" With grateful thanks- childhood memories" by Derek Linford published in 1997
On the national scene all discussion was of the Festival of Britain which was to be opened to the public and indeed the organized school visit filled one with wonder as exhibit after exhibit portrayed the past, present and the future. The skylon and the great domed building were the talk of the class as we travelled back to Haslemere on the train to take the waiting bus back to Midhurst. As part of the national celebrations the large bonfire which was built on Harting Hill became the local representative of a chain of beacons which glowed against the night sky.

The well established annual events took place almost like clockwork but my summer was to be highlighted when Mr David Roebuck, the captain of Harting C.C., asked my father " Can Derek bring his kit to the game on Saturday ? We would like him to play against Lavant."
For the past two seasons I had been to most home matches helping with the telegraph board. Mrs Sherrington, wife of Mr W.Sherrington, would call out the score and I would place the appropriate metal number on the hook projecting from the board. The reward for my support was to help with the teas provided by Mrs J. White and Mrs Stubbington in the khaki marquee, and to tidy up the cricket bag at the end of each game.
But actually to play for the team. To change in the same changing room . To sit down to tea. To maybe even have a bowl. I packed my two bats and my whites in my canvas cricket bag and left for the ground.
The wooden pavilion had no electricity and no mains water. The changing room door being the width of the pavilion swung back on a large hinge revealing the players changing within. Clambering up the large gap between the ground and the pavilion floor I was made welcome by those I had come to revere. All the coat pegs were taken and so were the places on the bench seats so I parked myself amongst the white line marking equipment and began to change. One handle of the mower served as a resting place for my trousers another for my shirt. There were ribald comments as I put on my brand new litesome jock strap bought especially for the occasion. A ghastly smell began to float around the room coming from the direction of Mr W. Sherrington, the wicket keeper batsman. There he stood in his shirt tails revealing gnarled and heavily bruised legs rubbing a horse linament into his thighs.
" Right I am going out to toss up. We'll bat if I win," said Mr Roebuck.
We peered through the window at the skipper walking back. " We are fielding. I lost the toss.
"Walking down the slope to the square Mr Roebuck approached and said, " Pat Hines will open from his usual end but Jack Cook's a bit sore from last week. So if you'd like to turn your arm over from the other end."

At the end of Pat's over the captain called out. " Right lads, the same places as last week." There was to be no opportunity to set one's own field.
Pat , fine leg ; Bill leg slip; Alf first slip; Peter second; Bob in the gulley; Les go point ; Jack mid off; I 'll take mid on; Ok Tony you go cover - that's your area," he said pointing to the vast expanse of open ground. It was clear that field positions depended upon your age and mobility. Only two players were more than ten yards from the wicket.
The first two balls of my over the batsman left and they travelled harmlessly through to Bill's gloves. The third ball hit the batsman's pad half way up the leg.
Mr W. Prior ; Mr A. Prior; Mr P. Prior; Mr. W. Sherrington; Mr. L. Gillingham; Mr C. Pearson ; Mr J. Cook and Mr. D. Roebuck to a man yelled " How's that?"
I had remained silent, but on turning slowly I noticed that my Sunday School teacher, the Choir Master, the Acting Headmaster of Liss Junior School and the father of one of my best friends had raised his finger thus giving the batsman out and me my first wicket for Harting C.C.
I was to take no more wickets as Bill Prior and then David mopped up the opposition. One could say that each of the players in the team who were over 40 years of age, and most of them were, had been good cricketers. David, having been a prisoner of war, had lost many valuable seasons. As an all rounder he bowled off spin cradling the ball in his sideways rocking arms, with a final flurry at delivery point, he kept a good line and length.
It was taken for granted that the young Pat Hines and Tony Pay were the work horses in the field and that the old 'uns would work the rest out between them. With the willow Peter Prior was the most correct thrusting bat and pad together down the wicket leaving no gate at all for the ball to pass through in the execution of a sweetly timed cover drive.
Back at the pavilion I sat next to Mrs Sherrington who had the ability to score and knit at the same time often with a cigarette in her mouth. It was not unusual for ladies to smoke in public but it was the clouds of smoke that the scorer produced which made her unique.
...............................................................................................................................................................................

MEANWHILE AT THE COUNTY GROUND IN 1955

"This is the way to do it, son " James Langridge coaching his son Richard and the rest of us in the Chalet Net ( now Newbery and Club Shop ). Note our footwear and clothing.

CLICK ON PHOTO

TOP OF PAGE