‘The rules have been so senselessly directed towards speed and swing that no thoughtful young bowling aspirant would deem it worth his while to even think of concentrating upon leg spin.’
Bill O’Reilly
IN 1935 England’s administrators launched what some saw as an unprovoked attack on leg spin. They changed the leg-before-wicket legislation. Previously an appeal could only succeed if the ball pitched in line between wicket and wicket. Now, for an experimental period in England only, batsmen could be out if the ball pitched outside off stump, as long as it struck the pads in line with the stumps and was going on to hit them.
This, according to the Association of Cricket Statisticians, saw the proportion of LBW dismissals in County Championship matches rise from 13.5 per cent in the period from 1931 to 1934 to 17.8 per cent in 1935. It subsided a little thereafter, but the indignation remained.
Surely the LBW change would negate leg spin, which moves away from the right-hander, by giving off spin and in-swing a greater chance of success?
Remember 1935 was also the year when Eric Hollies, by his absence from the Headingley Test, and Tommy Mitchell, by his inaccuracy on a helpful pitch at Lord’s, were deemed to have let England down. It was a bad, bad season for leg spin.
One who unsurprisingly thought this was Bill O’Reilly, who had taken 28 wickets in the 1934 Ashes. Decades later he still seethed about the English authorities. ‘They have tried time and again to handicap leg spin out of the game. Why did they think it necessary to try to destroy leg-spinning in the mid-1930s by introducing the infamous LBW rule which meant that a batsman could not be given out LBW if the ball pitched outside the leg stump?’
O’Reilly’s description of a vendetta is a touch misleading. The authorities had not legislated to make things harder for leg-spinners like him. They had merely given greater help to other types of bowlers. Of course, there was also a greater chance of getting a wicket with the googly now too. But, by distributing largesse elsewhere, to off-spinners and in-swingers, the result was likely to discourage people from a harder path of leg spin. The whole idea had been to stop some of the huge scoring which went on during the 1920s and 1930s. It was intended to create more ‘brighter cricket’, at least in terms of matches ending in positive results. How misguided it was.
The revised LBW experimental law was tested for two seasons in England before being adopted permanently in England and Australia in time for the 1936/37 Ashes. There is an argument that its effect would be harder felt by leg-spinners in England, where the ball tended to bounce lower and LBW was a more common mode of dismissal.
There was some discussion of extending the LBW change further, so that balls that pitched outside the leg stump and hit the pad in front of stumps could count. O’Reilly would have liked that, but the thought failed to gain traction. Hollies was one of those opposed, worrying about ‘a rush’ of LBW-aimed leg-break bowling. There was more to it than that, surely.
Leg-spinners went off to war a little disgruntled about the injustice heaped upon them, but, as the afterglow of victory over Hitler abated, an act of vandalism took place.
For 1946, MCC decreed that in matches in England a new ball should be made available every 55 overs. The shine would barely be gone before another became available. It was strange indeed at a time when leather, rationed because of the huge demand to make soldiers’ boots and jackets, was in short supply. By the end of the war, the amount allowed equated to two pairs of shoes a year per person. There was a boom in sandal sales as fashion-conscious women tried to make their allotment stretch further.
MCC was evidently not as materially thrifty, stating, ‘After 55 overs (six balls) have been bowled with a ball in such matches, the fielding side can demand a new one, when the umpire shall inform the batsmen of the change. (In 1946, in the event of a shortage of balls for any match, before the commencement of the match the captains may mutually agree to apply this experimental rule to the substitution of selected old balls in sound condition.)’
It devised a system of warnings for teams and spectators. ‘After the 45th over, the scorers shall display a small white flag or signal, which shall be replaced by a yellow signal after the 50th over. At the commencement of the 55th over both signals shall be exposed.’
Raising the white flag was an appropriate metaphor for what happened, as far as leg-spinners were concerned. Unless one was S.F. Barnes, gripping a new ball was difficult. The change put a further premium on easier-to-control trundle. Arthur Mailey was not pleased, calling the 55-over rule ‘crazy’. ‘Unless he can reach the heights of Maurice Tate or Alec Bedser,’ he wrote in militant indignation, ‘there should be no place for the medium-pace bowler in big cricket.’
Mailey was a purist, but the more pragmatic Don Bradman also thought the new-ball stipulation ‘had the effect of pushing the leg-break bowler somewhat into the background. Captains thought it safer to bowl tight in between new balls and let the damage be done by the fast men. This in turn reduced scoring rates, and a leg-spinner dearly loves to have a few runs to play with to give of his best.’
Why did it happen? O’Reilly, an anti-imperialist proud of his Irish ancestry, had a point of view:
The answer is simple: the English were sick to death of leg spin, and well they might have been. They could not handle it, so they decided to destroy it. They did that with such comprehensive success that the art of leg-spinning is in danger of disappearing from the game.
The changed rules have been so senselessly directed towards speed and swing that no thoughtful young bowling aspirant would deem it worth his while to even think of concentrating upon leg spin, and I have heard it said that modern captains dare not use leg-spinners for fear they might lose a match in three or four overs of big hitting.
For the 1949 season the new ball was to be taken every 65 overs in county cricket and, by the late 1950s, this was raised to 75 overs. For the 1961 season, the Advisory County Cricket Committee increased this once more to 85 overs, after county captains agreed unanimously to provide ‘entertaining cricket during the coming season’, amid concerns over turgid play and declining attendances. It was too late for leg spin. Negativity was by now seeping through the veins and arteries of England’s cricketing body politic.