Word: cricketer
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...glorious old imperialist days, England exported her national sport so fervently that the sun never set on cricket.* The ones who learned cricket best, England discovered to her sorrow, were the sturdy Australians. After England's second loss to the Aussies, the despondent London Sporting Times wrote: "English cricket . . . died at the oval, Aug. 29, 1882 . . . The body will be cremated and the ashes taken to Australia." The Ashes eventually became the invisible symbol of victory in the matches. For the last 20 years, down-under cricketers have held on to the Ashes. Last week long-humiliated England...
...matches, four had been draws. Thus everything rested on the fifth. Twenty-four hours before it began, a wave of hope far wilder than ever gripped a partisan World Series crowd in the U.S. swept Britain. Queues lengthened outside London's Kennington Oval. Intoned the London Times: "The cricket community at the opposite ends of the world stands with bated breath...
...possible, the best of both worlds. A deformed foot and excess weight stood in his way, so at 19 he grimly started training. "I have lost 18 LB in my weight ... by violent exercise and Fasting ... I wear seven Waistcoats and a greatcoat, run, and play at cricket in this Dress, till quite exhausted by excessive perspiration, and the Hip Bath daily; eat only a quarter of a pound of Butcher's Meat in 24 hours, no Suppers or Breakfast, only one Meal a day; drink no malt liquor, but a little Wine, and take Physic occasionally. By these...
...what might easily have been a silly whodunit. Nadia Gray is always credible, and lovely to look at in one or two heart-catching little love scenes. In short, at a game where overstatement is all too easy, the British tradition of playing it down is pretty good cinematic cricket...
Author Cronin's British memories seem to have got confused by his 14 years of residence in the U.S., so that his book is like a game of baseball played by somebody who thinks it is cricket. The villain of the novel, Sir Matthew Sprott, prosecutor for the Crown, can be best described as a go-getting U.S. district attorney with a knighthood. Wortley's police chief is another odd case of hands across the sea, one of those blunt Britons of the old Prohibition gang-war days. As for Wortley's newspapermen, nothing like them...