July 1902. The Manchester Test hung on knife’s edge.
After that quick single by Syd Gregory, it was captain Joe Darling who faced Len Braund.
On that slow, damp wicket, deep square leg was a vital fielder for a leg-spinner bowling to an aggressive left-hander. The specialist was Lionel Palairet, a Somerset teammate of Braund. But he was across the field, having been at deep square for Gregory.
Now, with the last ball of the over coming up, England skipper Archie MacLaren chose the easy way out. Instead of Palairet dashing across the ground, Fred Tate, from the infield on that side, was pushed back to the fence.
In 1933, Armstrong claimed that it was Braund who wanted Tate to be placed there.
Tate the off-spinner, a kindly fellow who never hurt a soul, had no throwing arm to speak of. Hence, he generally found himself at slip, or in the covers.
The leg-break spun in to Darling.. The Australian captain got down on his knee and played the slog sweep. It soared up, high and hopeless, straight in the direction of Tate. The fielder watched it descend, wavering in the breeze. He positioned his hands, hoping that it would somehow find a way to stick.
Tate never looked like holding it. Out of position, a fatal misjudgement, and a desperate grab with his left hand. The crowd, about to erupt in ecstasy, gasped. They witnessed the most famous fielding error in the history of Ashes until Shane Warne dropped Kevin Pietersen at The Oval 103 years later to balance the equation for England.
Darling top-scored with 37. Australia ended the day at 85 for eight. After five hours of continuous rain early next day, finished their second essay at 86. Now England had to get 124.
As Justin Parkinson wrote, “Tate’s drop had turned winning from a formality to a probability.”
Even Wisden observed, “If the catch had been held it is quite likely, as Lockwood was bowling in such wonderful form, that the Australians would have been out for 50 or 60.”
Tate, however, was only halfway through his ordeal.
Against the magnificent pair of Trumble and Saunders on a wet wicket, England found themselves on 116 for 8. Eight runs were needed. Wicketkeeper Dick Lilley was throwing his bat, Wilfred Rhodes looked poised and cool.
And now Lilley struck Trumble, high and hard, into deep square, a part of the ground where no fielder could be sighted. The crowd roared. The required runs were about to be halved. A great hit under pressure. And then from the corner of the eyes following the ball, one made out the frenetic form of Clem Hill, running full tilt from the distant post he had been asked to patrol, eating up the yards like a greyhound.
Hill saved the boundary in the most emphatic way possible, clutching the ball before it had bounced, the momentum carrying him across another half length of the ground after he had made the catch.
Now Tate was in. A man who earned his keep as a professional with the ball, set to be remembered in history for whatever he now achieved with the bat.
The batsmen had crossed and Rhodes played out the remainder of Trumble’s over. And down came pelting rain.
For an agonising 40 minutes the players waited. And then Tate faced Saunders.
The first ball snicked to the boundary. The target halved.
The second blocked.
The third swung in at a quickish pace. Even the best England bat would have been hard pressed to play it. Tate had no clue what to do and broke his wicket.
Australia won by three runs. And with that the series.
Tate was booed as he trudged off the ground. In the dressing room for the professionals he cried. Braund tried to cheer him up, “Go on Fred, get upstairs and get your money — it’s only a game.”
It did not help. Even on the way back, he broke down in the waiting room at Manchester.
On their journey back though the Midlands, Braund remarked, “Cheer up, Fred, it’ll be all over in a week or so.” The morose Tate had responded prophetically, “It never will.”
He was right. That remained his only Test match.
Trumper scored a century before lunch, Trumble took 12 wickets. But, the match has gone down as ‘Tate’s Test’.
Braund claimed that at the end of this conversation Tate looked at him and said, “I’ve got a kid at home who’ll make it up for me.” It is not known for sure whether these words were really spoken. But, this kid did make amends for his father.
.Maurice Tate, only a boy of seven then, went on to play 39 Tests for England, picking up 155 wickets at 26.16 and scoring 1,198 runs at 25.48.
Tate captured 1331 first-class wickets at 21.55. He was a very good bowler.
But he is remembered for that missed chance.
Fred Tate was born on 24 July 1867.