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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 2, Issue 8 (December 1, 1927)

[section]

The return of the New Zealand cricketers from England, where they established the Dominion's reputation on the flanneled field, has caused a great revival of interest in the national summer sport. It is therefore seasonable to produce the following vivid description of a thrilling and memorable cricket match, written by an “Aussie on his toes” to a New Zealand railwayman.

In 1924 the Third Test played in Australia was a heart thrill from start to finish—particularly the last innings, when the Englishmen, with 8 wickets down, were within 32 of the Australian total, when stumps were drawn at 6 p.m. on the sixth day of the match.

The Cricket Board of Control decided not to make a charge for admission the following day as play was not expected to last more than an hour. You can imagine the crowd that assembled on the Adelaide Oval. Practically every place in the city suspended business, and it is estimated that at 12 noon, 100,000 persons were within the boundaries of the Adelaide Oval.

Watching The Game. Lady supervisors (Miss B. R. McQueen and Mrs. A. M. Haslam), Head Office, N. Z. R.

Watching The Game.
Lady supervisors (Miss B. R. McQueen and Mrs. A. M. Haslam), Head Office, N. Z. R.

Gilligan (captain) was one of the not–out–men, and that little chap (I cannot recall his name) the other.

J. M. Gregory took the ball, and after performing a number of kangaroo bounds to get his muscles supple, measured off his bowling distance. By this time the huge crowd was silent and holding its breath. The day was warm, clear, and cloudless, with not even the slightest zephyr to disturb the flight of the ball. Gregory, as if conscious of the fact that the match would not last many minutes, abandoned all care for his “gammy” knee and let himself go—reminiscent of the Gregory of 1920–1921. The first ball was not seen by either the batsman (Gilligan) or wicket—keeper (Oldfield) and, to the horror of the spectators, went for four byes—thus materially reducing the margin. Gilligan survived two more balls and scratched off a few runs, eventually “skying” one from a mishit. This Vic. Richardson caught—the simplest of catches, yet in the excitement he jumped three feet into the air. If he had dropped that ball the crowd would have leapt the pickets and rushed him, for although Vic. was a South Australian and a good man, he was not at that period popular with the crowd, who did not conceal their delight when he was put out for a “duck” or failed in some other way.

Strudwick—last man in—got a great reception, and swung his bat to the first ball from Gregory, but did not get within a yard of it and was the most surprised man in the place to see his wicket standing. Arthur Mailey was the bowler from the other end, and every ball from him was different and full of wile. At last one more deceptive than the other tricked the batsman, who flicked it. Oldfield gathered it in with his mighty reach, and before the crowd dared believe their eyes, he was halfway to the stand. Old Fox that he was, Oldfield knew that it was the fatal ball and he had it in safekeeping. Australia had won, but only just—about 11 runs to the good. It was then that the huge crowd surged over the pickets and across the ground, grabbing Mailey and carrying him shoulder high to the dressing room amidst volleys of cheers. An effort was made to grab Gregory, but he frustrated it, and his 6ft. 5in. of athletic manhood forbade the more daring element using force.

It was a great finale to a great match, and I do not think any 20 minutes has held me so spellbound before or since.