Stumps are drawn

Bill Frindall died yesterday. Known universally by cricket afficionados as The Bearded Wonder, Frindall kept the score in countless international cricket matches for the BBC and others for the last 40 years. From a distance it’s difficult to imagine anything as prosaic and arcane as cricket scoring. 

In the US only the hardest core baseball fan could really appreciate the complexity, subtlety and eventual illumination the current game and of that game in a historical context that comes from a ream of scorer’s sheets. In that sense  a scorebook is like sheet music or algebra. It has a perfection in its form and universality in its language. 

The good news is that ‘the better place’ now will have a perfect record keeping system and that Bearders may finally meet Dr Grace, renew his acquaintance with the Don and have even better input to his all time Word XI.

2 Comments

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2 responses to “Stumps are drawn

  1. Adam

    You wouldn’t expect such a sad but momentous event pass without a comment from this side of the pond.

    Do you think the Bearded one will now reveal to the Holy One blessed be he who actually won the tied Test Match in Brisbane in 1960. Most scorers say that the game wasn’t actually a tie but nobody will own up to who actually won.

    It may be the worst crime in cricket publishing that nobody would agree to do a second updated edition of the Wisden Book of Test Cricket which is simply the best reference tool us cricket nuts have.

    It was curious that the BBC would never give Frindall an analysis slot even though in conventional broadcasting terms he had a reasonably pleasant voice and was an excellent public speaker.

    Still, such a fitting career for a man born on the first day of the longest ever Test match.

  2. Craig

    I’m hearing mellifluous West Country tones: “And there’s Peter West, looking at the wrong camera, faffing about at the Grace, excuse me, pearly Gates trying to interview Bearders as he makes his stately way through the gathered throng…we can just make out…beyond the cloud strewn entrance…a group of be-flanneled men – in umbrella formation – holding, I believe, their lifetime averages up for inspection…and awaiting that verifying signature. No thank you, Jonners, no more cake for me… I think you need to move over a little. Make room for one more…”

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