A personal tribute by Arunabha Sengupta
He has left the crease after a fantastic 90, making for the happy Gardens of the Eden where no one calls stumps. But if anyone deserved that hundred it was he.
Murray Hedgcock combined his love for PG Wodehouse and cricket into the delightful anthology Wodehouse at the Wicket. The cricket bug bit him early, that his headmaster in his school was one Bill Woodfull was definitely a contributing factor.
And then during the War years he was rummaging through the shelves when he discovered a curious book containing a Jeeves and Wooster story.
Both the seeds had been planted.
Murray was of course much more than that compilation. He wrote about the game, rather beautifully, in both Australia and England, in The Australian, Wisden and The Cricketer. He was a journalist and writer of considerable pedigree and renown.
But of course it was the Wodehouse connection that drew me to him.
It was Tony Ring, the noted PG Wodehouse scholar, who opened the channel by sending him a copy of my Sherlock Holmes and the Birth of The Ashes. And soon, without least expecting it, I found a mail from Murray popping up in my mailbox.
Hello Arun, Many thanks for the unexpected and of course most welcome copy of Sherlock Holmes and the Birth of the Ashes, forwarded by Tony Ring. I shall of course tackle it with some caution as to the birth of the Ashes: my cricket-enthused granddaughter Georgia, studying journalism in my hometown of Melbourne, lives at a university residential college, Janet Clarke Hall, which was founded by Lady Janet Clarke – who with friends prepared the actual Ashes urn at the family property of Rupertswood. I trust that Sherlock Holmes does not upset my understanding of the birth of that splendid symbol Again with my thanks, and I much look forward to the reading. Kind regards – Murray Hedgcock
It was Murray through and through. Generous, self-effacing, with a glint of humour.
I tried to set up a meeting at Lord’s. The premise was a rather peculiar invention of mine.
Apart from the obvious Wodehousean connection, I was rather keen on meeting him because of his scholarly interest in another man who piqued my curiosity—that renegade cricket historian Rowland Bowen. Besides, I was doing a series on cricket’s famous lob bowlers. I found out that lobs were still being bowled in the quaint annual matches between the members of the PG Wodehouse Society (Gold Bats) and Sherlock Holmes Society—matches that were still played following the 1893 rules. I had not only watched the 2017 encounter, but also written the match report in Wooster Sauce, the PG Wodehouse Society magazine.
Was it not a wonderful premise to get together with Murray at Lord’s —to discuss lobs, Wodehouse and let the discussion gravitate towards Bowen?
Murray was delighted, “Good to hear from you again – and I repeat my thanks for your lively book linking Holmes and Cricket. I must also record my admiration for the notable research you’ve done for your series on lob bowlers. I should be more than happy to meet you for a ramble over the world of lob bowling provided I’m fit: an operation a year ago knocked some of the stuffing out of me. I continue with treatment, and am not able to get out too often. Incidentally – have you thought of mentioning in your series the notorious Trevor Chappell lob that upset NZ-Australian relations. I was one of the very few people to defend the action, and although Greg Chappell later argued that he had been temporarily overwhelmed by the occasion and got it wrong, he reproduced in his book, Overs and Unders, the full text of the article I wrote in The Australian supporting his instruction to his brother..
On the eccentric Rowland Bowen – I find so few people these days who know anything about him that I’m always eager to talk to anyone interested in the man. Lobs and Bowen – what a pairing!”
Unfortunately Murray’s health did not hold up. He sent Wodehouse Society’s specialist lobster Robert Bruce to deputise for him during that Lord’s meeting.
Another meeting was proposed, planned, and once again Murray’s health let him down.
In May 2020, Apartheid: A Point to Cover was published. During the announcements, I drafted a special mail for fellow Wodehouseans, because I had craftily managed to slip Plum into the book.
And immediately I received Murray’s reply. “Thanks Arun for advising me of your book, of which I knew nowt, but have promptly ordered. I always liked the tale of the chap taking his student son to Twickenham for a Springboks match at the time of protest, stopped by a policeman. ‘Do I look like an agitator?’ complained the chap. ‘I’m sorry Sir, but your MCC tie is outranked by your son’s London School of Economics tie’, was the response. Whatever happened to the rebellious antics of the LSE? It never gets a mention these days.”
With considerable embarrassment I informed him that he needn’t have purchased a copy since I had been about to send him one anyway. He wrote back, “That’s very kind of you, Arun, but we authors need every sale we can get! I look forward to studying your thoughts on those momentous days.”
If Murray ever referred to himself as an author, it was in this self-effacing manner.
It was a month later that we did a Wodehouse double. Mayukh Ghosh did a Stories behind Books feature on Murray’s Wodehouse at the Wicket for cricmash. At the same time I wrote about the Wodehouse connection of Bernard Bosanquet, the inventor of the googly.
Both these articles were reprinted side by side in the June 2020 issue of the Wooster Sauce.
I was obviously delighted. I wrote to Murray: “It feels great to share a cricketing double-spread in June 2020 Wooster Sauce with you.”
His reply was almost immediate. “Hello Arun –Yes indeed – good to be in partnership. Will you play the shots, and I shall keep up an end? I wonder how we would have felt about PGW if he had not been a cricketer? Too complex, that one”.
Be it a birthday greeting, an occasional line or a formal announcement, Murray always answered within a few hours, with his characteristic ending, “Now if you will excuse me, I will get back to …” and it would be followed by the impression that he was absorbed in whatever new book or article one had sent him.
When Mayukh Ghosh’s In a League of Their Own: Celebrating Cricket’s Great Characters was sent to him by John McKenzie, Murray wrote a characteristically generous mail to the author before concluding, “Anyway - if you will excuse me, I must get back to reading about Cricket's Great Characters - told with sparse eleance that is at first sight rather strartling, but proves readable and effective.”
Last month CricketMASH was going through the final stages of publishing the definitive biography of David Frith. Paddington Boy was ready, and of course Murray was getting a copy. As Adrian Runswick of the publishing unit emailed him with a link for downloading the review copy, he got an answer almost immediately. “Thanks Adrian, but events have already overtaken you – David has sent me a copy online, in recognition of our friendship of more than fifty years. We both share life divided between England and Australia, the difference being in our origins – he in London, I in Melbourne. I have few reviewing opportunities, but I shall certainly do my best to spread the word of what is a remarkable read, for many reasons, both sporting and human. Now if you will excuse me, I must check if I still get appropriate mentions….”
That was characteristic Murray. Self-effacing generosity till the very end.
He was, as I have said, 90. He was still working on the unfinished biography of Rowland Bowen. Because he was getting on in years, a helping hand was appointed—the 86-year-old Peter Wynne-Thomas.
One wonders what will become of the project now.
But one thing is certain. As he enters through the Pearly Gates, PG Wodehouse himself will be welcoming him with a cheery What Ho! into the celestial Blandings Castle.
Rest in peace, sweetness and light, Murray.
And now if you will excuse me, I will immerse myself once more into my copy of Wodehouse at the Wicket.