by Arunabha Sengupta
Ken Biddulph was a canny, accurate seam bowler.
During the second half of the 1950s, he formed a sterling association with Bill Alley and Ken Palmer for Somerset. Of course, he played in the years when there were men like Brian Statham, Fred Truman, Frank Tyson, Bob Appleyard, Peter Loader and Trevor Bailey bowling pace for England… with Allan Moss to fill in any gaps that somehow arose in that formidable force. Besides, Biddulph was never quite the Test prospect.
However, 270 wickets at 27.61 apiece underline that he was quite a decent performer. Later, his most incredible achievement was as a bowling coach to a man in his mid-40s, someone whom he regaled with stories of his playing days. That man went on to become arguably the greatest cricket writer of all time. More about him later.
Biddulph was in his late teens when he arrived at the Alf Gover coaching centre for Saturday afternoon sessions. It was at Wandsworth, South London.
It was around 1950 and Biddulph was just about 17 or 18.
One day, he was hanging out after the lesson, trying to bowl at whoever was batting at the four nets. There were four batsmen and four coaches. Biddulph was bowling at a bloke who did not look very good. At the crease in the next net was a club cricketer he recognised. Biddulph was eager for a challenge.
He went up to Gover and said, “Excuse me, Mr Gover, do you think I could go and bowl at the feller next door?”
“All right, old boy,” Gover answered. He called everyone ‘old boy’. But he was curious as well. “What’s the matter with this one?”
“Well, he isn’t very good,” Biddulph replied.
He went along and bowled to the club cricketer in the next net.
It was only afterwards that Gover told him about the batsman who ‘wasn’t very good’. “That’s Peter May.” He was just a few months from playing his first Test.
Goes to show how impressions can be misleading, even for genuine top level cricketers. And to think we have self-important hack journalists, with solid experience in backyard cricket, detecting potential and lack thereof in cricketers after watching them for a couple of deliveries.
Most of Biddulph’s tales ended with such incredible self-effacing punchlines. And because he coached the spirited Stephen Chalke—the latter eager to improve his bowling for his wandering cricket side at the age of 46—we get to read the fascinating stories in the wonderful books published by Fairfield Press.