Wicket No 250. Tiger Lance leg before wicket
by Arunabha Sengupta
Manchester, 1968. Late in the cricket season.
A car speeding along Cheetham Hill Road was being tailed by the police. The law finally drew level and the vehicle was waved down by a uniformed arm. At the kerbside, an officer of the Lancashire Constabulary asked for the license of the errant driver.
The name on the document read ‘Frank Tyson’.
The questions followed thick and fast.
“Are you Frank Tyson, the former England fast bowler?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Are you on your way to a fire burning your house down?”
“No, I’m not.”
“On your way to the hospital for the impending arrival of your first-born perhaps?”
“No.”
“Do you realise sir that you were going almost as fast as you used to bowl?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And what might be the reason for that, sir?”
“I’m late for an official function at Old Trafford to mark the retirement of my former fast-bowling partner.”
“Would that be Mr. Brian Statham, sir?”
“Yes, he is retiring from First-Class cricket at the end of the season.”
“He is a very important person sir, and if you want to salute him on the occasion, please make sure you get there safely.”
The policeman waved the former England pace bowler off with a warning.
Brian Statham was universally loved.
One of the reasons was that the man himself did not take himself too seriously, other than being extraordinarily fond of his feet. During tea intervals he would remove his boots, peel off his socks, place his feet on a chair and talk to them: “Come on lads, tha’s only got another two hours to go and then tha’ can have a good soak and a neet’s rest.”
After his retirement he penned his autobiography. This is how he started. “My feet are grateful I’ve retired!”
Because his feet took a pounding. Statham bowled fast and almost always into the wind. 2260 wickets in 559 first-class matches. Mostly at speeds hovering around 90 miles an hour.
It was quite by chance that he played cricket. As a kid he was more interested in soccer and tennis. Before joining the Lancashire staff in 1950, he had seen exactly one day’s play of a county match. On debut against Kent, senior professional Cyril Washbrook told him not to bowl short to Arthur Fagg because he would send him out of the ground. Statham did not know Fagg from a box of apples. He bounced, Fagg hooked, the ball got big on him and a steepling skier was caught by Alan Wharton at short leg. That was his first wicket. He also got his county cap that match—because he went and told skipper Nigel Howard that he had not brought any headgear along.
By the end of the season, he had 37 wickets at 16.56. When Freddie Brown’s team in Australia was hit by injuries, he found himself called up as replacement. Statham and county-mate Roy Tattershall flew there, a rarity those days, a long journey via Singapore. They were met by John Woodcock and Walter Robins at the airport—the reinforcements looking winter pale and poplar thin. Worse, Statham knew the names of only half the members of the squad.
He did not play a Test in Australia, but made his debut in New Zealand. The next time he visited Australia, he formed a winning combination with Frank Tyson in the most memorable of tours.
And of course down the line, he teamed up into one of the best combinations ever—with Fred Trueman.
He was seriously fast. But his partners were a shade faster. And more intimidating. Hence it was always against the wind for Statham.
But when he retired from Test cricket, he and Trueman had broken each other’s Test records and he had his nose slightly ahead. Yes, he retired as the world record holder, 252 wickets in 70 Tests. He enjoyed the distinction for 48 days before Trueman went past him again.
Brian Statham was born on 17 June 1930.