The Hampdenshire Wonder | Page 8

the
groundsman--but the ambition to bowl "swerves," as they were
afterwards called, took possession of him from that morning. It is true
that he never mastered the theory completely; on a perfectly calm day
he could never depend upon obtaining any swerve at all, but, within
limits, he developed his theory until he had any batsman practically at
his mercy.
He might have mastered the theory completely, had it not been for his
accident--we must remember that he had only three seasons of
first-class cricket--and, personally, I believe he would have achieved
that complete mastery. But I do not believe, as Stott did, that he could
have taught his method to another man. That belief became an
obsession with him, and will be dealt with later.
My own reasons for doubting that Stott's "swerve" could have been
taught is that it would have been necessary for the pupil to have had
Stott's peculiarities, not only of method, but of physique. He used to
spin the ball with a twist of his middle finger and thumb, just as you
may see a billiard professional spin a billiard ball. To do this in his
manner it is absolutely necessary not only to have a very large and
muscular hand, but to have very lithe and flexible arm muscles, for the
arm is moving rapidly while the twist is given, and there must be no
antagonistic muscular action. Further, I believe that part of the secret
was due to the fact that Stott bowled from a standing position. Given
these things, the rest is merely a question of long and assiduous
practice. The human mechanism is marvellously adaptable. I have seen
Stott throw a cricket ball half across the room with sufficient spin on
the ball to make it shoot back to him along the carpet.

I have mentioned the wind as a factor in obtaining the swerve. It was a
head-wind that Stott required. I have seen him, for sport, toss a cricket
ball into the teeth of a gale and make it describe the trajectory of a
badly sliced golf-ball. This is why the big pavilion at Ailesworth is set
at such a curious angle to the ground. It was built in the winter
following Hampdenshire's second season of first-class cricket, and it
was so placed that when the wickets were pitched in a line with it, they
might lie south-west and northeast, or in the direction of the prevailing
winds.
V
The first time I ever saw Ginger Stott was on the occasion of the
historic encounter with Surrey; Hampdenshire's second engagement in
first-class cricket. The match with Notts, played at Trent Bridge a few
days earlier, had not foreshadowed any startling results. The truth of the
matter is that Stott had been kept, deliberately, in the background; and
as matters turned out his services were only required to finish off Notts'
second innings. Stott was even then a marked man, and the
Hampdenshire captain did not wish to advertise his methods too freely
before the Surrey match. Neither Archie Findlater, who was captaining
the team that year, nor any other person, had the least conception of
how unnecessary such a reservation was to prove. In his third year,
when Stott had been studied by every English, Australian and South
African batsman of any note, he was still as unplayable as when he
made his debut in first-class cricket.
I was reporting the Surrey match for two papers, and in company with
poor Wallis interviewed Stott before the first innings.
His appearance made a great impression on me. I have, of course, met
him, and talked with him many times since then, but my most vivid
memory of him is the picture recorded in the inadequate professional
dressing-room of the old Ailesworth pavilion.
I have turned up the account of my interview in an old press-cutting
book, and I do not know that I can do better than quote that part of it
which describes Stott's personal appearance. I wrote the account on the

off chance of being able to get it taken. It was one of my lucky hits.
After that match, finished in a single day, my interview afforded copy
that any paper would have paid heavily for, and gladly.
Here is the description:
"Stott--he is known to every one in Ailesworth as 'Ginger' Stott--is a
short, thick-set young man, with abnormally long arms that are tanned
a rich red up to the elbow. The tan does not, however, obliterate the
golden freckles with which arm and face are richly speckled. There is
no need to speculate as to the raison d'etre of his nickname. The hair of
his head, a close, short crop, is a pale russet, and the hair on his hands
and arms is a yellower shade