Barnes v Constantine by CLR James
Today a vintage piece of writing from a marvellous writer- CLR James. The subject of his essay is another illustrious personality- Sydney Barnes, probably the greatest bowler this game has ever seen. I have transcribed it from a book. Enjoy.
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Barnes v Constantine
Sydney Barnes is generally admitted to be the greatest bowler cricket has yet seen. I had a glimpse of him the other day in action. He is fifty nine years of age ( the date of his birth given in Wisden is incorrect). Yet the man is still a fine bowler. It was an experience to watch him.
To begin with, Barnes not only is fifty-nine but looks it. Some cricketers at fifty-nine look and move like men in their thirties. Not so Barnes. You can almost hear the old bones creaking. He is tall and thin, well over six feet, with strong features . It is rather a remarkable face in its way, and could belong to a great lawyer, or a statesman without incongruity. He holds his head well back, with the rather long chin lifted. He looks like a man who has seen as much of the world as he wants to see.
I saw him first before the match began, bowling to one of his own side without wickets. He carried his arm over as straight as a post, spinning a leg break in the orthodox way. Then he had a knock himself. But although the distance was only a dozen yards and the ball was being bowled at a very slow pace. Barnes put a glove on. He was not going to run the risk of those precious fingers being struck by the ball. When the preliminary practice stopped he walked in, by himself, with his head in the air, a man intent on his own affairs.
His own side, Rawtenstall, took the field to get Nelson out. League sides will sometimes treat the new ball with Saturday- afternoon carelessness: not so Rawtenstall. Ten of them played about with an old ball: Barnes held the new. He fixed his field, two slips close in and the old- fashioned point, close in. Mid-off was rather wide. When every man was placed to the nearest centimetre Barnes walked back and set the old machinery in motion. As he forced himself to the crease you could see every year of the fifty-nine; but the arm swung over gallantly, high and straight. The wicket was slow, but a ball whipped hot from the pitch in the first over, and second slip took a neat catch. When the over was finished he walked a certain number of steps and took up his position in the slips. He stood as straight as his right arm, with his hands behind his back. The bowler began his run - a long run- Barnes still immovable. Just as the ball was about to be delivered Barnes bent forward slightly with his hands ready in front of him. to go right down as a normal slip fieldsman goes was for him, obviously, a physical impossibility. But he looked alert, and I get the impression that whatever went into his hands stayed there. As the ball reached the wicket keeper' hands or was played by the batsman, Barnes straightened himself and again put his hands behind his back. THat was his procedure in the field right through the afternoon. Now and then by way of variety he would move a leg an inch or two and point it on the toe for a second or two. Apart from that, he husbanded his strength.
He took 7 wickets for about 30 runs, and it is impossible to imagine better bowling of its kind. The batsmen opposed to him were not high rank, most of them, but good bowing is good bowling whoever plays it. Armistead, a sound batsman, was obviously on his mettle. Barnes kept him playing; then be bowled one of his most dangerous balls-- a flighted one, dropping feet shorter without any change of action and what is much more dangerous, pitching on the middle wicket and missing the off. Armistead, magnetized into playing forward, had the good sense to keep his right toe firm. The wicketkeeper observed Armistead' toe regretfully and threw the ball back to Barnes. Up to this time, Armistead had relied almost entirely on the back stroke. It had carried him to where he was without mishap. A forward stroke had imperilled his innings. Behold there the elements of a tragedy, obvious, no doubt but as Mr Desmond McCarthy says, the obvious is the crowning glory of art. Armistead played back to the next ball. But he couldn't get his bat to it in time. Barnes hit him hard on the pads with a straight ball and the pads were in front of the wicket.
He went from triumph to triumph, aided, no doubt, by the terror of his name. When Constantine came in I looked for a duel. Constantine was not going to be drawn into playing forward. Barnes was not going to bowl short to be hooked over the pavilion; or over pitch to be hit to the football field. Constantine also was not going to chance it. For on that turning wicket, to such accurate bowling who chanced it was lost.
Constantine jumped to him once, and a long field picked the ball up from the ground, where it had been from the time it left the bat. Barnes bowled a slow one, that might almost be called short. It pitched on the leg stump. Constantine shaped for the forcing back stroke. The field was open. But even as he raised himself for the stroke he held his hand, and wisely. The ball popped up and turned many inches. Another ball or two and again Barnes dropped another on the same spot. It was sore temptation. Constantine shaped again for his stroke, his own stroke and again he held his hand, wisely for the ball broke and popped up again. So the pair watched one another like two fencers sparring for an opening. The crowd sat tense. Was this recitative suddenly to burst into the melody of fours and sixes to all parts of the field? The Nelson crowd at least hoped so. But it was not to be. Some insignificant trundler at the other end who bowled mediocre balls bowled Constantine with one of them.
After that it was a case of boa constrictor and the rabbits, the only matter of interest being how long he would take to dispose them. But, nevertheless old campaigner as he is, Barnes took no chances. Slips would stand on the exact spot where the bowler wanted him, there and nowhere else. When a batsman who had once hit him for two or three fours came in, Barnes put two men out immediately, As soon as a single was made, hte outfieldsmen were drawn in again and carefully fixed in their original positions, although th score might be about 50 for 8 or something of the kind. Barnes had lived long enough i n the world of cricket to know that there at at any rate it does not pay to give anything away. Nelson failed to reach 70. As the Rawtenstall tam came in, the crowd applauded his fine bowling, mightily, Barnes walked through it intent on his own affairs. He had had much of that all his life.
Constantine running seventeen yards and hurling the ball violently through the air, began sending back the Rawtenstall batsmen. One, two, three wickets and bails flying every time. Forth from the pavilion came Barnes. He faced the West Indian fast bowler. He was older than Constantine' father and the wicket was faster now. Barnes got behind the ball, the pitched up ball, and played it back along the pitch to the bowler. He judged the ball quickly and so got there in time. He kept his left shoulder forward and that kept the bat straight. He played the slower bowlers with equal skill, and whenever there was a single to be taken he took it. He never lost one, and he was in difficulties to get into his crease once only. 'Yes' and 'No' he said decisively in a deep voice which could be heard all over the ground. His bones were too stiff to force the ball away. But his bat swing true to the drive and he got over the short ball to cut. He stayed there for some 40 minutes for 10, and as long as he was there his side was winning. But Constantine bowled him behind his back. Barnes satisfied himself that he was out, and then he left his crease. He came in slowly amid the plaudits of the Nelson crowd, applauding his innings and their satisfaction at his having been dismissed. Courtesy acknowledged the applause. For the rest he continued as he had begun, a man unconsciously scornful of his milieu. After he left, Rawtenstall collapsed.
Since then, Barnes has taken 5 for a few, and startled Lancahisre a few days ago by taking 9 for 20. In the years to come. it will be something to say that we have seen him.
+++++++++
Barnes v Constantine
Sydney Barnes is generally admitted to be the greatest bowler cricket has yet seen. I had a glimpse of him the other day in action. He is fifty nine years of age ( the date of his birth given in Wisden is incorrect). Yet the man is still a fine bowler. It was an experience to watch him.
To begin with, Barnes not only is fifty-nine but looks it. Some cricketers at fifty-nine look and move like men in their thirties. Not so Barnes. You can almost hear the old bones creaking. He is tall and thin, well over six feet, with strong features . It is rather a remarkable face in its way, and could belong to a great lawyer, or a statesman without incongruity. He holds his head well back, with the rather long chin lifted. He looks like a man who has seen as much of the world as he wants to see.
I saw him first before the match began, bowling to one of his own side without wickets. He carried his arm over as straight as a post, spinning a leg break in the orthodox way. Then he had a knock himself. But although the distance was only a dozen yards and the ball was being bowled at a very slow pace. Barnes put a glove on. He was not going to run the risk of those precious fingers being struck by the ball. When the preliminary practice stopped he walked in, by himself, with his head in the air, a man intent on his own affairs.
His own side, Rawtenstall, took the field to get Nelson out. League sides will sometimes treat the new ball with Saturday- afternoon carelessness: not so Rawtenstall. Ten of them played about with an old ball: Barnes held the new. He fixed his field, two slips close in and the old- fashioned point, close in. Mid-off was rather wide. When every man was placed to the nearest centimetre Barnes walked back and set the old machinery in motion. As he forced himself to the crease you could see every year of the fifty-nine; but the arm swung over gallantly, high and straight. The wicket was slow, but a ball whipped hot from the pitch in the first over, and second slip took a neat catch. When the over was finished he walked a certain number of steps and took up his position in the slips. He stood as straight as his right arm, with his hands behind his back. The bowler began his run - a long run- Barnes still immovable. Just as the ball was about to be delivered Barnes bent forward slightly with his hands ready in front of him. to go right down as a normal slip fieldsman goes was for him, obviously, a physical impossibility. But he looked alert, and I get the impression that whatever went into his hands stayed there. As the ball reached the wicket keeper' hands or was played by the batsman, Barnes straightened himself and again put his hands behind his back. THat was his procedure in the field right through the afternoon. Now and then by way of variety he would move a leg an inch or two and point it on the toe for a second or two. Apart from that, he husbanded his strength.
He took 7 wickets for about 30 runs, and it is impossible to imagine better bowling of its kind. The batsmen opposed to him were not high rank, most of them, but good bowing is good bowling whoever plays it. Armistead, a sound batsman, was obviously on his mettle. Barnes kept him playing; then be bowled one of his most dangerous balls-- a flighted one, dropping feet shorter without any change of action and what is much more dangerous, pitching on the middle wicket and missing the off. Armistead, magnetized into playing forward, had the good sense to keep his right toe firm. The wicketkeeper observed Armistead' toe regretfully and threw the ball back to Barnes. Up to this time, Armistead had relied almost entirely on the back stroke. It had carried him to where he was without mishap. A forward stroke had imperilled his innings. Behold there the elements of a tragedy, obvious, no doubt but as Mr Desmond McCarthy says, the obvious is the crowning glory of art. Armistead played back to the next ball. But he couldn't get his bat to it in time. Barnes hit him hard on the pads with a straight ball and the pads were in front of the wicket.
He went from triumph to triumph, aided, no doubt, by the terror of his name. When Constantine came in I looked for a duel. Constantine was not going to be drawn into playing forward. Barnes was not going to bowl short to be hooked over the pavilion; or over pitch to be hit to the football field. Constantine also was not going to chance it. For on that turning wicket, to such accurate bowling who chanced it was lost.
Constantine jumped to him once, and a long field picked the ball up from the ground, where it had been from the time it left the bat. Barnes bowled a slow one, that might almost be called short. It pitched on the leg stump. Constantine shaped for the forcing back stroke. The field was open. But even as he raised himself for the stroke he held his hand, and wisely. The ball popped up and turned many inches. Another ball or two and again Barnes dropped another on the same spot. It was sore temptation. Constantine shaped again for his stroke, his own stroke and again he held his hand, wisely for the ball broke and popped up again. So the pair watched one another like two fencers sparring for an opening. The crowd sat tense. Was this recitative suddenly to burst into the melody of fours and sixes to all parts of the field? The Nelson crowd at least hoped so. But it was not to be. Some insignificant trundler at the other end who bowled mediocre balls bowled Constantine with one of them.
After that it was a case of boa constrictor and the rabbits, the only matter of interest being how long he would take to dispose them. But, nevertheless old campaigner as he is, Barnes took no chances. Slips would stand on the exact spot where the bowler wanted him, there and nowhere else. When a batsman who had once hit him for two or three fours came in, Barnes put two men out immediately, As soon as a single was made, hte outfieldsmen were drawn in again and carefully fixed in their original positions, although th score might be about 50 for 8 or something of the kind. Barnes had lived long enough i n the world of cricket to know that there at at any rate it does not pay to give anything away. Nelson failed to reach 70. As the Rawtenstall tam came in, the crowd applauded his fine bowling, mightily, Barnes walked through it intent on his own affairs. He had had much of that all his life.
Constantine running seventeen yards and hurling the ball violently through the air, began sending back the Rawtenstall batsmen. One, two, three wickets and bails flying every time. Forth from the pavilion came Barnes. He faced the West Indian fast bowler. He was older than Constantine' father and the wicket was faster now. Barnes got behind the ball, the pitched up ball, and played it back along the pitch to the bowler. He judged the ball quickly and so got there in time. He kept his left shoulder forward and that kept the bat straight. He played the slower bowlers with equal skill, and whenever there was a single to be taken he took it. He never lost one, and he was in difficulties to get into his crease once only. 'Yes' and 'No' he said decisively in a deep voice which could be heard all over the ground. His bones were too stiff to force the ball away. But his bat swing true to the drive and he got over the short ball to cut. He stayed there for some 40 minutes for 10, and as long as he was there his side was winning. But Constantine bowled him behind his back. Barnes satisfied himself that he was out, and then he left his crease. He came in slowly amid the plaudits of the Nelson crowd, applauding his innings and their satisfaction at his having been dismissed. Courtesy acknowledged the applause. For the rest he continued as he had begun, a man unconsciously scornful of his milieu. After he left, Rawtenstall collapsed.
Since then, Barnes has taken 5 for a few, and startled Lancahisre a few days ago by taking 9 for 20. In the years to come. it will be something to say that we have seen him.
posted by Sriram Veera at 8:04 PM
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