The first time I went to Lord’s was in 1970, just before the unofficial Test series which replaced the cancelled South African one. I was in the Long Room, discussing Barry Richards, one of the most elegant batsmen of all time. He did not seem to hit the ball. It was as if he had caressed it, after which it would rocket to the boundary. Has there ever been an opener whose stroke-play gave such aesthetic pleasure?
An incredibly old buffer joined in our conversation: ‘I always knew young Richards would be good. Came over here as a 16-year-old schoolboy and hit a six off me.’ Who was this pompous so-and-so? Someone of a similar vintage promptly clapped him on the shoulder: ‘Morning, Alec.’ Er, yes: when Barry Richards was 16, Alec Bedser would have been 43. He would still not have been giving away sixes.
Cricket is the greatest sporting spectacle.
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