The Twelfth Man 2019

TALKS WITH OLD YORKSHIRE PLAYERS… WILFRED RHODES For ten years Norman Hazell has been providing his series of articles in The Twelfth Man. Archive T o mark the tenth anniver- sary of the series, I think it’s appropriate to write about a great man who I had the privilege of meeting many years ago. I was working as a Design Draughtsman at a large engineering works in Leeds and don’t suppose it will come as a surprise to my many friends to learn that not only was I actively involved in the sporting section (with the full support of Ken Hammill, Personnel Director) but also assisting produc- ing the company’s magazine. I wrote articles on numismatics, genealogy and, of course, cricket. Aware that Wilfred Rhodes was ap- proaching his ninetieth birthday, my suggestion that a birthday article would arouse interest was eagerly accepted and I was told by Ken to ‘fix it’. In those uncomplicated days of first-class cricket, the County Club was run from a small office in the centre of Leeds, by John Nash, the Secretary, with a small staff.  In the summer of 1967, there was a Test Match taking place at Headingley with India and Mr Nash suggested that it would be a convenient place for me to meet Wilfred rather than travelling down to Bournemouth. He gave me his address (no nonsense with data protection in those days) and was I delighted to get a reply within days, written in the hand of Mrs Burnley, his daughter, but signed by Wilfred. The first of several such letters which I really treasured. Wilfred was born 29th October 1877 in Kirkheaton and after leaving school worked for the old Lancashire & Yorkshire Railway, before being sacked for leaving early to play in a league match. He then worked on a farm and then a job as pro for a Scot- tish team. Of course, Wilfred’s record is so well known I don’t need to list all his great statistics, but figuring in two record partnerships - 130 for the last wicket with R E Foster and many years later opening with Jack Hobbs in Melbourne, putting on 323 - was just amazing for a great player con- sidered primarily to be a bowler. Anyway, back to the summer of 1967; on the day agreed, I left work at Stourton accompanied by Clifford Robinson, who worked with me in the Drawing Office and was a bril- liant photographer (his son Peter has now written 24 best selling de- tective books). At Headingley, John Nash welcomed us into the pavil- ion to wait for the arrival of Wilfred. Shyly looking round, I spotted Bed- ser, Hutton, May, Sutclifffe, Sellers and from Royston, Norman Yardley. Everyone was friendly as I waited for the arrival of Wilfred, who entered on the arm of his daughter. Erect and dignified, after being welcomed by officials, I was introduced and we sat to watch the cricket and talk - and how we talked. From time to time, we would be joined by great players, wishing to pay their respects to my hero. The Test Match with India was taking place, this being the match in which Geoffrey scored 246* before captain Brian Close declared. Wilfred’s conversation ranged over the whole game, mentioning the time he spent as coach at Harrow, where the boys were obsessed with the ‘Har- row Drive’, smiling as he mentioned this. His memory was marvellous, talking about his old friends, George Hirst, Gilbert Jessop, Learie Constan- tine and so many others, of whom he was able to tell me of flaws in their technique. All the while England were batting, slowly, in lovely sunshine al- though there was a disappointing at- tendance. At one stage I mentioned having read in The Sunday Times that Wilfred, although blind, could follow progress on the field by the sound of ball hitting the bat. Smiling, he told me, “They do say that” but then, pull- ing a hefty portable radio from his pocket, added, “But this helps.” We left the ground at lunchtime; the lovely man whom I had always held in the highest regard left me in awe. On learning that I was a bowler he had even changed the way in which I held the ball, so that with the ‘Rhodes Grip’, I took twenty wickets for YCW in the next three league matches.  After writing my article, I sent it off to Canford Cliffs for his approval and then, after publication, sent Wilfred a couple of the magazines. As a re- sult I acquired several letters, writ- ten by Mrs Burnley, but all signed W.RHODES. Some time later, my wife Kathleen suffered a back injury and one day, on my return from work, I found her Doctor sitting at her bed- side. She told me he’d been there half-an-hour, waiting for me so that he could beg a Wilfred letter.