The Theory and Practice of Gamesmanship

Home > Other > The Theory and Practice of Gamesmanship > Page 7
The Theory and Practice of Gamesmanship Page 7

by Stephen Potter


  GAMESMANSHIP CAN BE TAKEN TOO SERIOUSLY

  Gamesmanship and Life

  As I was endeavouring to think of a phrase which would express some of our deeper feelings on the subject of this queer Science of ours, the heading was supplied, as if by chance, in a way which was as unexpected as it was kind. When my wife brought me my post I knew, from the superscription, whence the letter came. ‘My dear,’ I said, ‘here is something from the Dean of Southport.’ He had written to ask me to come along and chat to his lads up there on the theme of Gamesmanship and Life. It is certainly amazing – and I was favourably astonished – to see the interest expressed by Young People of all denominations in my small theories.

  I noticed how readily gamesmanship appealed to the young when I watched my own two lads picking it up with increasing aptitude, and using it, too, in boyhood games of ping-pong and lawn tennis, croquet and chess. And how pleased we were when, sometimes, their little efforts succeeded against us.1

  I think it is the fact that sportsmanship and chivalry are the so frequently repeated watchwords of gamesmanship, which makes it appeal so strongly to young persons, and to much older people also, like the Dean of Southport, who must have noticed the constant use we make of these phrases in our magazines and pamphlets.

  I think my visit was a success. I know it was of benefit to myself. When I went up for my lecture – group-chat would describe it better – I soon had them smiling and asking questions. And I was glad to do even this small office towards the ensuring of that continuance of growth, that ever-widening circle, which will help us to look to the future, while we are remembering the past.

  Appendix I

  The Köninck Portrait of Dr W.G. Grace

  There are still certain points which need clearing up on the subject of the disputed portrait of the great doctor.

  Fig. 16. The Köninck Portrait of W. G. Grace (see text).

  The dust of controversy has settled, by now. Yet it is amusing to recall that fifty years ago the Köninck portrait of Grace was always reproduced as a proof that the famous beard was false. Grace certainly used his beard like a good gamesman, and no doubt this fact, and the obvious advantages of a large black beard, gave rise to the rumour. It was said that the join of the beard to the neck (N on the picture) was faked. Mr Samuel Courtauld first came into prominence as an investigator of pictures by stepping forward to point out that at the mouth (M on the picture) the join was obviously natural.

  The extraordinary success of Grace as a gamesman has led to an astounding crop of stories associated with his name. Half the cricket theorists in England have vied with each other in the invention of the unlikeliest tales.

  The Gladstonian Theory

  Ridiculous theories were particularly rife in 1888 as to the ‘real identity’ of the great doctor. The Köninck portrait usually figures largely in these discussions. If the cap in the portrait is supposed to show the colours of the Wanderers, why the monogram? And if the monogram shown is that of the Gloucester Colts, why the button on the top of the head? Microscopic examination has shown, too, that the shirt, instead of buttoning left over right, folds right over left. Was Grace a woman?

  The theory that Grace was really Gladstone became, of course, the sporting sensation of the century. The doctrine is based on the ‘concealed meaning’ of two words, the most important words spoken by Gladstone in the whole of his career, or at any rate, the words which he seemed to wish the world to believe the most important. This was his asseveration, when he first assumed the office of Prime Minister, that pacify Ireland was to be his mission. The theory is, of course, that when Gladstone spoke of Ireland, he was referring not to the famous country but to J. H. Ireland, the Australian fast bowler.

  The one man who knew the answer to the secret – R. G. S. (‘Flicker’) Wilson – kept his mouth – now closed for ever – firmly shut during his lifetime. It is certainly true that Gladstone, if he had in fact been Grace, would have had more reason to fear the Ireland of the cricketing world, and indeed Gladstone’s suddenly assumed interest in Ireland is difficult to explain. Gladstonians have gone to fantastic lengths to read double meanings into the wordings of Gladstone’s Home Rule Bills. They prove, to their own conviction at any rate, that it was Home Rule for England which was Gladstone’s main concern, foreseeing as he undoubtedly did the menace of Australian Test Match cricket.

  But the whole theory breaks down, surely, on the question of dates. Is it true that Grace was never seen batting at Lords during the Midlothian campaign? What is the value of the evidence of D. Bell that his grandfather once ‘thought he heard Grace laughing in the Long Room’ during this period? Again, J. H. Ireland was only twenty-six when Gladstone assumed office. His play had been reported in The Times, but only three members of the M.C.C. had seen him bowl, including Price. And it is I suppose just conceivably possible that Gladstone did frequently refer to ‘Price’s Message’, if by a simple transliteration references to Lord Rosebery can be shown to be references to Price.

  But Grace or Gladstone, who cares? As any sportsman will say, here was some magnificent cricket played by a magnificent cricketer, who gave pleasure to the world, be his name what it may.

  Appendix II

  Note on Etiquette

  It is extraordinary how often, among gamesmen, the etiquette of gamesplay is instinctive, and there is little need, I am glad to say, to reduce etiquette to the formality of print.

  There are two points, nevertheless, on which questions are sometimes asked. I append the official answers.

  (a) When two gamesmen are playing together, it is usual for the senior gamesman to make the first move.

  (b) When two or more gamesmen are playing against opponents or with partners who are not gamesmen, none of the gamesmen should make any reference to gamesmanship either directly or by using such phrases as ‘don’t take any notice of what he says’, ‘he’s pulling your leg’, etc.

  Appendix III

  Chapter Headings from ‘Origins and Early History of Gamesmanship’

  Play Among Primitive Animals: the Limpet – Significance of ‘Fishy’ – Cat and Mouse and the Study of Ur Gamesmanship – The Neolithic Gap – Some Unexplained Greek Vase Paintings – The Indecipherable ‘Prayer Sheets’ Found in Londonderry – Persian Origin of the Phrase ‘Velvet Glove’ – St Augustine’s Find – Chinese Emblem for ‘Playing a Losing Game’ – Gift of ‘Tennis Balls’ to Henry V – Gamesmanship and the Battle of Agincourt – Symbolism of the Pawns, in Chess – Renaissance – of what? – Boyhood of Francis Drake – Difference Between Machiavelli and Cervantes – Use of Latin Quotations – Rembrandt’s first ‘Tam-o-Shanter’ Self-Portrait Examined – The Nineteenth Century and After – After That – Dawn of Cricket – Dawn of Not Cricket – W. G. Grace’s Beard: False or Genuine? – Use of Linesmen in Wimbledon Lawn Tennis – End of the Era of Actual Play, in Games.

  Appendix IV

  Diet

  I do not favour any fads or frills where diet for gamesmanship is concerned. Eat what you please seems to be the Golden Rule. But in moderation, A sufficient breakfast, wholesome lunch – and there is no reason why it should not be palatable as well. ‘A little of what you fancy’ at tea-time. And a well-balanced, well-cooked evening meal completes the scheme, and should satisfy the wants of the average gamesman. Fats are important and carbohydrates should not be neglected, provided that protein content is kept in mind. But always remember that the meal before play should not be too heavy, nor the meal afterwards too light.

  Appendix V

  Some Extracts from the ‘Gamesman’s Handbook’ for 1949

  The Gamesman’s Handbook (1949) is now in preparation and it is hoped to publish it at the beginning of December 1948 – not in order to take advantage of any adventitious catch-sale at Christmas, but because the birthday of our popular treasurer falls in that month. It is hoped to make the volume a combination of Wisden and Baedeker, with full accounts of the principal clubs, hotels which cater for the O.G.A., gar
ages which will accept custom, etc., etc.

  Here is an extract from the earliest of many interesting tables:

  Open

  championship

  1929

  Miss E. Goodhart

  1930

  ”

  1931

  ”

  1932

  ”

  1933

  ”

  1934

  ”

  1935

  G. Odoreida

  The professional side of gamesmanship will receive full attention. Extracts from an article by ‘V. V.’:

  The low status of the amateur gamesman, in Great Britain, is a factor which we should never be allowed to forget. In America it is difficult to tell the pro from the amateur. In Britain, the feeble clothes and general appearance of the amateur single him out at once. We amateurs have to fight against the growing menace of young people who insist on playing their various games for the fun of the thing, treating it all as a great lark, and indulging rather too freely, if the truth were known, in pure play.

  There is no doubt that a knowledge of the game itself sometimes helps the gamesman. But there is a growing tendency to carry this too far in some professional circles. An interesting point arose when Kinroyd of Hoylake, the local Professional Gamesmen’s Association representative, holed the course in seventy-two, the standard scratch score. Had he or had he not lost his professional status? And, if so, what profession?

  Record Games and Queer Incidents

  A selection from the Handbook List

  (8) In March 1929 G. Wert won the Isle of Purbeck Shield Knock-out Competition, In the six rounds played, he never holed out in less than ninety-two net. On presenting the prize, Lady Armory complimented him on his success in the face of wretched play and referred in her speech to the ‘literary unadulterated’ gamesmanship of the player.

  (22) On eight separate occasions, all within a fortnight, playing in the same club, against the same group of opponents, J. Batt won his match, using the same games-play on each occasion (‘I’m an awful fool, but I’ve had no food for twenty-four hours’). After one match, the loser actually sent him a present of butter.

  (41) Captain E. Mawdesley Hill, in the autumn of 1938, won three successive matches against –. Johns of Forest Grove, in three successive weeks, by asking him, with great delicacy, on each occasion, whether he (–. Johns) was in financial difficulties and would he accept help. It is interesting to note that a fourth game was also lost when –. Johns realized not only that no kind of help was forthcoming, but that on the contrary Mawdesley Hill owed him for two lunches. –. Johns was too angry to control his game.

  (182) Distinguished Visitor Play. J. Strachey made beautiful use of this gambit in a recent lawn tennis doubles ‘friendly’ in which ‘Wayfarer’ was concerned. The game was played at a time when Anglo-* * * *-ish relations were cordial, but delicately balanced. ‘To my surprise’, writes ‘Wayfarer’, ‘Strachey, asking if he could bring his own partner, astonished us by turning up with the * * * *-ish Ambassador. Before the game began Strachey took me aside to “explain the position”. He suggested that the game should be played, “for obvious reasons”, without gamesmanship. On the whole (he tipped me the wink) it would be no bad thing if the Ambassador (who was, of course, Strachey’s partner) ended up on the winning side. “Someone on the highest level” had hinted as much to him.

  ‘Pleased to comply, my partner and I obediently lost the first set. Before the next set began, however, Strachey let it slip out that he had been pulling our leg, that it was not the * * * *-ish Ambassador at all, but – and here it seemed to me that I recognized the vaguely familiar face – one of the Oval Umpires who in his spare time played lawn tennis as a member of the East Kennington L.T.C. This silly trick angered me, and my play in the second set was not improved in consequence, particularly as we both drove hard at the Oval man’s body but, in our annoyance, usually missed it. Two sets to Strachey.

  ‘In the third set Strachey out-manoeuvred us once more. He told us, finally, that in fact his partner really was the * * * *-ish Ambassador, who, indeed, he turned out to be. This, of course, completely upset us, the remembrance of our rude behaviour in Set II rendering us almost incapable of returning the simplest ball. This gave Strachey the third set and the match.

  ‘The whole game, which was played on an asphalt court, lasted exactly fifty-eight minutes.’

  Note. J. Strachey writes: ‘I note that “Wayfarer” actually left the court under the impression that the player in question was the * * * *-ish Ambassador. Be that as it may … has not our good “Wayfarer” for once missed the point, or rather perhaps the principle behind the point, of this little incident? The real crux was the creation of doubt in the opponent’s mind. In this case, for example, our opponents sometimes supposed themselves to be facing the * * * *-ish Ambassador and sometimes one of the Oval Umpires; not unnaturally they failed adequately to adjust their play. But that does not exclude the possibility that the fourth player in the set was the Ambassador of another power, or alternatively, of course, an Umpire, not of the Surrey C.C., but of an entirely different County Club.’

  *

  We are glad to say that the Gamesman’s Handbook will be, in its new edition, plentifully pictured with half-tone blocks and illustrations in photogravure. G. G. P.1 and G. O.2 have completed their survey by including the areas of West Riding and Lanarkshire. We reproduce two illustrations (Figs. 17 and 18) representing the results of their pooled researches.

  Fig. 17. Showing the distribution of Gamesmen’s Associations in three typical English counties, to explain the zoning of O.G.A. in relation to P.G.A.

  Fig. 18. Graph showing the relationship between Mean Bird Gamesmanship and Mean Game Birdmanship.

  Footnotes

  Chapter 3 The Game Itself

  1 It may be worth recalling that Eigar himself, when playing croquet against fellow-musicians, made use of the Horn motiv from the Ring:

  He would whistle this correctly except for the second note, substituting for A some inappropriate variant, often a slightly flattened D sharp, sliding up to it, from the opening note of the phrase:

  A voice from the past indeed. Yet have any of our modern experts in the music ploy really improved on this phrase, devised before Gamesmanship was formulated or even described?

  2 Sub-plays, or individual manoeuvres of a gambit, are usually referred to as ‘ploys’. It is not known why this is.

  3 ‘Names impress according to the square of their initials.’

  4 Usually shortened now into ‘Game Leg’.

  Chapter 5 Luncheonship

  1 At Oxford, though never a blue, I used to wear a blue’s tie – particularly when playing games against nicemen who knew I had no right to wear the honour. This simple trick, which is said by psychologists to induce the ‘pseudo-schizophrenic syndrome’, or doubt, was most effective in moving-ball games.

  Chapter 6 Losemanship

  1 In all previous editions Rule I was Rule II.

  2 I wished it to be called ‘Linlithgow’, after that great Viceroy and good man.

  3 Gamesmanship West Regional.

  4 In 1937

  5 I have tried, in this book, to avoid pseudonyms. The reader will forgive me if on this occasion I break my rule.

  6 I do not apologize for ‘comparatively trivial’. Love is more important than games. And I also believe that love is more important than gamesmanship.

  7 This phase of the play is sometimes called Sussexmanship. In a book such as this, which deals with First Principles, it has been my aim to use as few technical terms as possible.

  Chapter 7 Game By Game

  1 R. Smart had a passion for Tintoretto so intense, that if an opponent admitted to a similar interest in his paintings, Smart could scarcely ever bring himself to beat him. On one occasion, however, my friend G. Odoreida had an unfortunate experience. His match with Smart was of supreme importance. He had practised for it by an intensive thre
e-weeks’ study not only of Tintoretto but also of Trienti, Tintoretto’s celebrated pupil. He paid a flying visit to the Mauritshuis, where there was a recent Tintoretto acquisition. At the first hole, Odoreida plunged straight into the subject, not without genuine enthusiasm. But when, in consequence of this, he found himself four up at the ninth hole, he made his first mistake. He corrected Smart on a point of Tintoretto scholarship. Smart, furious, fought back and beat him at the twentieth hole.

  2 Member of the Professional Gameswomen’s Association.

  Chapter 9 Gamesmaniana

  1 v. ‘Counter-Gamesmanship, Parents and’, p. 78.’

  Appendix V

  1 Gallup Poll, Gamesman’s Division.

  2 Gamesmen’s Mass Observation, usually shortened to Gass O. or G.O.

  Note on the Author

  Stephen Potter was born in 1900 and educated at Westminster School and Merton College, Oxford, where he read English. In 1926 he became a lecturer in English at London University, and in 1938 he joined staff of the B.B.C. as a writer-producer. There he became editor of literary features and poetry, and in 1943 Chairman of the Literary Committee. His principal programmes were the ‘How’ series (with Joyce Grenfell) and the Professional Portraits, and he was originator and editor of the New Judgement series. He was also dramatic critic of the New Statesman, book critic of the News Chronicle and editor of the Leader Magazine. Stephen Potter died in 1969.

 

‹ Prev