by Chris Waters
With the sun-drying surface supplying more zip, batting was harder than it was before lunch, but the pitch was by no means a hazardous gluepot. In Verity’s next over, Willis Walker was twice fortunate not to be bowled before stealing a single off the fifth delivery. Shipston fell at the start of Verity’s 14th over, caught by wicketkeeper Wood for 21 as Nottinghamshire dropped to 47 for two (the Nottinghamshire scorebook gives the wicket to the first ball of the over and the Yorkshire scorebook to the second ball). Shipston also got a delivery that turned quickly from around off stump but a faster one than did for Keeton, the sort of variation Bowes observed could “knock the stumps flying”. Bowes said Verity used this quicker ball “about 16 times a season and it gave him 16 wickets”.
Shipston’s departure, after a painstaking 90-minute vigil, brought Carr to the crease on a pair. He duly “bagged it” as Verity got him with the first delivery of his 15th over, Nottinghamshire sliding to 51 for three. As in the first innings, Carr tried to hit a six towards the new stand and was caught by Wilf Barber in front of the sightscreen. The Yorkshire Evening Post said Barber “had not to run as far as he had when he caught Carr in the first innings”, while Herbert Sutcliffe reckoned Carr was twice unlucky, writing that “each shot was just about worth the six it would have got had the ball travelled another two or three yards”.
Carr, whose aggression contradicted his safety-first orders, also attributed his failures to misfortune. He felt they’d been caused by his green batting gloves, which he’d never before worn in a first-class match. “Like a fool”, Carr had bought the gloves two years earlier despite thinking green things brought him bad luck. This superstition began in 1926 when, to celebrate being made England captain, he’d bought a green car that gave nothing but grief. Driving the car in his green club tie, Carr crashed into a lorry en route to Trent Bridge. Later that year, following a game against Surrey, he drove team-mates “Dodge” Whysall, Sam Staples and Fred Barratt to Hastings and collided with a telegraph pole, Barratt sustaining serious cuts. When Carr sold the vehicle a short time later, his luck changed immediately. His mother won a race at Newbury with Honey Maker, and his father the Newbury Cup with Try Try Again, the loyal son banking handsome winnings. Carr, in fact, was routinely involved in motoring mishaps. These were normally the product of excess alcohol – and nothing to do with the colour green. Once, Carr was so desperate to take delivery of a crate of beer, he tried to drive his car into a pub, reluctantly abandoning the plan when it failed to fit through the double doors. Another time, he was driving two team-mates at breakneck speed when one fell out after falling asleep, with neither Carr nor the other man noticing. A policeman appeared and, by way of a sobriety test, asked him to say: “Sister Susie’s sewing shirts for soldiers.” Carr protested: “Damn it, I can’t say that when I’m stone cold sober.” The policeman let him go.
After Verity got him for the second time at Leeds, Carr hurled his gloves on the dressing room floor. These were the gloves Frank Shipston remembered landed at his feet. Bill Bowes wrote: “To say he [Carr] was annoyed is an understatement. He went back to his dressing room, collected his bag and all his equipment and threw them into the professionals’ room. ‘Here, take the lot,’ he said. ‘It’s a hell of a lot of good to me when I get a pair.’” It was the second time that year he’d chucked away his stuff. The first time, recognising he might have been a touch hasty, Carr swallowed his pride. He returned to the dressing room and asked for it back. “This time,” said Bowes, “he didn’t get the chance … it went irretrievably.” Harold Larwood took pity on his captain. He lent him one of his bats and promised he could keep it if he made a fifty in the next match. Carr did twice as well – he made a century – and the bat became one of his favourites. Carr’s failures against Verity finally convinced him to turn his back on green things. “The combination of green and ill-luck has so impressed me that I never like the colour and will not have anything to do with green things if I can help it,” he declared.
Nottinghamshire captain Arthur Carr, who threw away his green batting gloves in a fit of fury after Verity dismissed him for the second time at Leeds.
Another with cause to rue his misfortune at Headingley was Macaulay, who bowled magnificently after lunch as Carr’s men struggled on the drying deck. According to the Yorkshire Evening Post, Macaulay had “the hardest of luck”, many times going past the bat but spinning the ball with such revolution his opponents weren’t good enough to get the edge. Verity spun it just enough and, allied to his ability to make the ball lift, a skill intensified in wet conditions and a weapon known as his “perching ball”, he thrived in contrast to his thwarted team-mate. Verity’s facility for finding the edge was fondly remembered by Ellis Robinson, an off-spinner who represented Yorkshire from 1934 to 1949. Robinson referred to Verity as “Clear Gum”, his nickname in the Yorkshire dressing room because, towards the end of his career, Verity advertised Rowntrees Clear Gums – “the nation’s favourite sweet”, as the slogan said. In his South Yorkshire brogue, Robinson would reflect: “Clear Gum ‘tonned’ it just enough – half a bat. I used to ‘ton’ it too much – that’s why t’ball kept slipping down t’leg side.” Verity shared out the gums with his team-mates and took any leftovers back to his family.
While Macaulay huffed and puffed in the Headingley sunshine, Verity continued to blow the house down. After his 16th over was a maiden and the 17th his most expensive, with Arthur Staples hitting the first delivery – a rank full toss – for three to leg, and Walker taking a single off the fourth ball, Verity spectacularly changed the course of the match. With the total at 63 for three, a seemingly impregnable lead of 134, he took a hat-trick with the second, third and fourth deliveries of his 18th over, a triple-wicket maiden. First, Walker was brilliantly caught at first slip by Macaulay, who shot out his right hand to somehow grab a ball that was going away from him. Walker had been trying to drive down the ground after making patchy progress to 11. Macaulay was a splendid slip but did not always field there due to the presence of Arthur Mitchell. Once, in a match at Old Trafford, Macaulay took two magnificent slip catches off Bowes, who teased him with the words: “I don’t mind telling you, Mac, that every time I see a catch going to you my heart comes into my mouth.” “Well,” replied Macaulay, “there’s plenty of room for it – what are you grumbling about?” Verity drew another close catch when Charlie Harris, prodding forward, edged to Holmes at second slip, the veteran pouching another sharp chance. It brought in George Vernon Gunn for the hat-trick ball.
Verity had never had a hat-trick for Yorkshire. The last Yorkshire player to take one had been his old tutor, Emmott Robinson, against Kent at Gravesend in 1930. Now Verity cleverly outwitted his opponent; with the close field set deeper, as though flagging the prospect of a quicker delivery, Gunn was already back on his heels to a looping straight ball and plumb lbw when he should have played forward. In an eye-blink, Nottinghamshire had nosedived to 63 for six – effectively 134 for six – and the day had dramatically come alive. “The crowd roared with delight,” reported the Yorkshire Evening News. “Needless to say, there were no slumbering spectators now.”
Verity was on an unstoppable roll; it was clear in his stride and sprightly demeanour. No sooner had he bowled than he craved the ball back; when it was thrown to him by the fielders and wicketkeeper, he snatched at it busily, impatient to feel it in the palm of his hand. This complete immersion was typical of Verity. On the rare occasions he was not absorbed, it was said that all you had to do to get him going was to tell him that everything depended on him, while at the same time expressing doubt in his powers. Verity’s focus was etched on his face, R. C. Robertson-Glasgow once noting how he “peered down the pitch after each ball, suggesting a chemist watching the perilous crucible, the connoisseur nosing the dubious vase, or even a conjurer investing simplicity with mystery”. J. M. Kilburn said “Verity’s menace you can see and share from the spectator’s seat”, adding that “Verity upon a day of success is the person
ification of hostility”. Kilburn felt “you can appreciate the fact that the ball leaves his hand with some imp of evil in it; Verity himself announces it as he stoops forward at the end of his follow-through or throws up an expectant arm as the batsman plunges blindly to the approximate pitch”.
Following Verity’s hat-trick at Headingley, not only was a Yorkshire win a possibility, but also the chance he could single-handedly run through the visitors. “In the midst of the sensations the question was whether Verity would succeed in claiming all ten wickets,” observed the Nottingham Evening News, “and while we were still talking about it Verity, at 64, took two more wickets with successive deliveries.” From the penultimate ball of his 19th over, Verity had Arthur Staples caught at first slip by Macaulay for seven before Harold Larwood – trying to hit straight – sliced into the offside and was brilliantly held by Sutcliffe running back from cover point; “a gem of a catch”, purred the Leeds Mercury. Verity, at that stage, had eight for seven – the only time in the innings when his wickets exceeded his runs conceded. “The enthusiasm of the crowd knew no bounds,” said the Nottingham Evening News, and yet there was little time for spectators to appreciate what they were witnessing. Although a 10-wicket haul had become increasingly likely, such feats were not then uncommon and the prospect of a world record being broken was unlikely to have crossed their minds amid the speed of the collapse. The greatest bowling figures in first-class cricket at the time were 10 for 18, recorded three years earlier by Leicestershire pace bowler George Geary on a treacherous pitch against Glamorgan at Pontypridd. Quite how many at Headingley would have known that, however, or had it in mind even if they did – let alone realised Verity’s figures – is debatable. Record-keeping was not as comprehensive as it is today (there was no Cricinfo or Cricket Archive to provide statistical reference), while there was only one scoreboard at Headingley and it was a primitive affair that did not give out bowling figures. The scoreboard was situated at the Kirkstall Lane end, roughly where the Trueman Enclosure is today. It contained only basic information such as the team total and number of wickets fallen, the scores of the two batsmen, the total of the last man and fall of the last wicket. Unlike the giant scoreboards on Australian Test grounds, it listed neither bowlers’ wickets nor runs conceded. Whenever a batsman is nearing a major milestone, such as when Don Bradman made successive triple hundreds at Leeds in the 1930s, the first of which broke the world Test record, his score is clear and there is time for drama to develop and records to be checked. Verity’s performance was over in a flash. Faster, almost, than you could say “Sister Susie’s sewing shirts for soldiers”.
Leicestershire pace bowler George Geary, the previous holder of the record figures in first-class cricket.
After dismissing Staples and Larwood, Verity was on another hat-trick at the start of his 20th over. Only once in the game’s history had a player taken two hat-tricks in the same innings – Albert Trott claiming four wickets in four balls, followed by three in three, during his benefit match for Middlesex against Somerset at Lord’s in 1907. One of the best all-rounders of the Golden Age, Trott was a powerful batsman and round-arm bowler who played for his native Australia and later England before committing suicide in 1914, aged 41. Suffering from dropsy, and living alone and penniless in London digs, he wrote his will on the back of a laundry ticket before shooting himself.
Trott’s record survived – just. To gasps from the crowd, which dissolved into groans, Ben Lilley thrust out a hopeful bat at the hat-trick ball, which took the inside edge and missed leg stump by a whisker, running away for three to fine-leg. Bill Voce kept out the second delivery of the over but edged the third to Holmes at second slip to depart for a duck. It left Nottinghamshire nine down and brought to the crease last man Sam Staples. As a 2,000 crowd looked on spellbound, Verity’s first ball to the No. 11 was devilishly flighted, Staples over-balanced in an effort to reach it and Wood broke the stumps with a showman’s flourish. Nottinghamshire were all out for 67 and Verity, incredibly, had 10 for 10. “There were scenes of great enthusiasm when Verity got Sam Staples stumped and completed the string of ten wickets,” said the Nottingham Guardian, “and every player on the Yorkshire side rushed to congratulate him.” The Nottingham Evening News referenced “scenes of wild excitement when the last wicket fell”, while the Yorkshire Post said “the crowd rushed from the terraces to applaud his wonderful work”.
After his 10 for 36 against Warwickshire in 1931, Verity had called his 16th over – in which he’d taken four wickets – “an avalanche from heaven”. It was a sweet turn of phrase but more suited to this follow-up. Having taken three for seven with his first 103 balls, Verity claimed seven for three with his final 15. Of the 118 deliveries he sent down in total, a staggering 113 were not scored off. Verity was only the third man after “Tich” Freeman and Middlesex slow underarm bowler Vyell Walker to take 10 wickets in an innings more than once. His was the 45th 10-wicket haul in first-class cricket and, as against Warwickshire, eight of his victims were caught, one lbw and one stumped. Nottinghamshire’s innings lasted 130 minutes and the wickets fell in a 60-minute spell after lunch. One minute, the visitors had been batting to a dreary draw; the next, they were crushed beneath the wheels of a juggernaut they simply couldn’t stop and never saw coming.
VERITY’S WICKET-TO-WICKET ANALYSIS
WICKET
BATSMAN OUT
VERITY’S FIGURES
1
KEETON
11.1-10-2-1
*2
SHIPSTON
13.1/13.2-11-3-2
3
CARR
14.1-12-3-3
4
WALKER
17.2-14-7-4
5
HARRIS
17.3-14-7-5
6
GUNN
17.4-14-7-6
7
A. STAPLES
18.5-15-7-7
8
LARWOOD
18.6-15-7-8
9
VOCE
19.3-16-10-9
10
S. STAPLES
19.4-16-10-10
*The Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire scorebooks disagree as to which ball of the over the second wicket fell.
Carr led a chastened team on to the field when Yorkshire began their second innings at 3.40 p.m., needing 139 to win. There were 50 minutes left until tea and a maximum of two-and-a-half hours available for play in weather that had returned overcast. Carr threw the ball to Larwood, whose second delivery Percy Holmes dropped into the leg-side for a single that completed his 1,000 runs for the season. Larwood struggled to get much out of the pitch, so Carr took him off after only three overs, rotating Voce and Arthur Staples at the Kirkstall Lane side and using Sam Staples’s off-spin from the end exploited so sensationally by Verity.
Whereas Verity had been irresistible, Staples was innocuous. Unable to reprise his match-winning performance in the corresponding game in 1923, he was milked by the masterly Holmes and Sutcliffe, who’d shaved 81 runs off the target by tea (Holmes 43, Sutcliffe 30). Throughout their association, the partners were known as “Holmes and Sutcliffe” – as opposed to the other way round – despite the fact Holmes was second fiddle to his colleague’s first violin. Their friendship had begun before the Great War, when they’d met on the top tier of a Leeds tramcar after spotting each other’s cricket bags. They first opened in 1919 and formed cricket’s most prolific opening partnership, sharing 69 century stands for Yorkshire and 74 overall. This was number 72 and, considering what preceded it, the most astonishing.
Holmes went to fifty after tea and, thought the Leeds Mercury, had “rarely played more confidently”. Sutcliffe was self-assured too but did have a life on 39 when Charlie Harris dropped him at cover off Voce. The scoring rate was swift but conditions remained challenging. The difference was that Nottinghamshire did not have anyone to maximise them as Verity had done. Although Holmes and Sutcliffe were sometimes beaten, they remained
in control. “Odd balls ‘popped’,” said the Yorkshire Post, “and always they turned, but Yorkshire’s batting was immaculate.” Sutcliffe’s ability to scrub from his mind any minor success enjoyed by a bowler was legendary. Don Bradman reckoned he had the best temperament of anyone he played against, while Neville Cardus wrote that “if a ball should beat him he appeared to be interested rather than worried”.
At 5.40 p.m., it was all over, Holmes striking the winning runs off Sam Staples to finish unbeaten on 77, Sutcliffe undefeated on 54. Sam Staples bowled 18.4 overs (exactly one less than Verity) and took nought for 37. As the Yorkshire Post observed, “They [Holmes and Sutcliffe] had made the Notts’ bowling look as ineffective as the Notts’ batting.” According to the Nottingham Evening News, the visitors’ defeat could not be blamed on the pitch. “Had it not been for the superlative batting of the Yorkshire ‘twins’, Notts’ third defeat of the season might have been softened by the story of a difficult pitch, but as Holmes and Sutcliffe scored their 100 runs in little more than an hour, despite repeated changes of bowling, excuses would be futile … Flight was the secret of Verity’s bowling successes, but at the height of the collapse I think Notts were spelling it with an ‘r’ in place of the ‘l’.” The Times noted that the pitch gave the bowlers “some assistance” but said “while Verity could not have accomplished his outstanding success without its aid, it was only an accessory after his flight and length, which continually made the batsmen play the strokes they did not wish to after the ball had pitched”. The Yorkshire Evening Post insisted: “There was nothing in the state of the wicket to account for the phenomenal fall of Notts; it would be to deprive Verity of the full credit of his performance to suggest there was.”