“I thought you could get him out in England off that cross-bat shot, Maurice.”
George Duckworth
TATE WAS READY. In his three Ashes series he had experienced a massive loss, a narrow win and a huge win. He knew which he preferred. The 1930 series was shaping up to be a contest unlike any other, at least in terms of hype. As Don Bradman and his colleagues set sail, the press was full of excitement.
Tate was one of the most watchable characters on either side. His old wicket-taking rival, Arthur Mailey, a multi-talented man, had retired from cricket and become a cartoonist. “Maurice Tate did not mind caricatures,” he wrote in the Adelaide Advertiser, “although he was somewhat disappointed that the artist always exaggerated the size of his feet.” Tate told Mailey “confidentially”, probably through a cupped hand, that he could wear size nine shoes “with comfort”. He blamed the apparent misperception on his tendency to walk splay-footed. Having looked at pictures of Tate’s boots, methinks the medium-fast bowler was protesting too much.
If Test matches were reaching new levels of coverage, things had also changed at Sussex. The lion-hearted but physically frail Arthur Gilligan had given way as captain to his brother Harold, a less talented cricketer but still a sociable character. With Duleep and slow-left-arm all-rounder James Langridge playing regularly, along with the likes of Ted Bowley and another all-rounder, “Old” Jim Parks, in the ranks, the team’s prospects were improving.
Tate began the season in his usual wicket-taking style. Five against Nottinghamshire, nine against Northamptonshire (along with a century), five against Derbyshire, nine against Somerset, 11 against Cambridge University and eight against Middlesex showed he was nicely in form. The Test trial was of little significance, Tate taking one for 18.
Aware of the dull draws against South Africa in 1929, the authorities decreed that Tests in England would now last up to four days. Percy Chapman was back to lead a strong England side in the first Test at Trent Bridge. The order began: Jack Hobbs, Herbert Sutcliffe, Wally Hammond. This was surely the best England top three of all time. Then came Frank Woolley, Patsy Hendren and Chapman. The bowlers were Harold Larwood, Middlesex leg-spinner Walter Robins, Tate and Lancashire leg-spinner Richard Tyldesley. George Duckworth, at number 11, was the wicketkeeper.
Despite their quality, England made an under-par 270 all out, early-series nerves affecting them. Hobbs’ 78, Chapman’s 52 and Robins’ 50 not out were the only sizeable contributions. Tate was bowled for 13, becoming one of Clarrie Grimmett’s five victims.
Australia’s batting line-up was packed with talent, but it struggled too. Tate began the damage, bowling Bill Ponsford for three and then having captain Bill Woodfull caught at gully by Chapman off an absolute screamer. Tate later wrote that cricket’s authorities had not realised how much of England’s success during Chapman’s reign had resulted from “his miraculous catches in the early stages of an innings”. It was rather different from Arthur Carr’s drop to reprieve Charlie Macartney back in 1926.
With the Australian score at 16 for two, Tate enjoyed one of his greatest triumphs, bowling Bradman for just eight runs. Perhaps he would be found out in English conditions, after all, at least when Test-class bowlers were in operation. That was to be Tate’s final wicket of the innings, as Larwood took one, Tyldesley two and Robins four. The Aussies were all out for 144. It was a fantastic start. Tate’s value was expressed in his figures: 19 overs, eight maidens, three wickets for 20 runs. The home side had a lead of 126.
England were determined to make the most of the situation, Hobbs and Sutcliffe putting on 125, with Hendren also weighing in with a score of 72. Tate hit a characteristic 24 off 23 balls to demoralise an Australian attack lacking high-class Test bowlers, with the exception of Grimmett, who took five for 94 to give him ten for the match. England finished on 302. Australia needed a highly improbable 429 to win, but they gave it a good go.
Larwood had Woodfull out for four, but Ponsford made a plodding 39 before he was bowled by Tate. Bradman was the danger man. He enjoyed partnerships with Ponsford and Kippax, before being bowled by Robins for 131 off 287 balls. The score was now 229 for four. Stan McCabe struck a rapid 49 off 76 balls and vice-captain Vic Richardson made 29, but the tail did not score heavily and the Australians were all out for 335, to lose by 93 runs.
Tate had bowled well, his second innings figures being 50 overs, 20 maidens, three wickets for 69 runs. However, Bradman, more machine than man in terms of shot selection and concentration span, was beginning to function.
The second Test, at Lord’s, was less of a joy for bowlers. England chose to bat and made a seemingly commanding 425. Duleepsinhji, on his Ashes debut, scored 173, still regarded today as one of the best innings at Lord’s, or in the history of the Ashes. Uncle Ranji had promised his nephew a pound for every run, making it a lucrative success too. Tate noticed the prince, a fellow Sussex great, sitting and watching in all his regalia, and made a memorable – but incomprehensible – comment. Various versions abound, but a rough amalgam is: “See that there Ranji? He looks a veritable Hindu, don’t he?”
To cap off the fun for Sussex supporters, Tate was the second-highest scorer for England, making 54 off 61 balls, which included eight fours. Giving the spectators excellent entertainment, he and Duleep put on 98 for the seventh wicket. Seemingly on unstoppable verbal form, while walking through the Long Room on his way to the crease, Tate spotted Neville Cardus, moved towards him as if to share a confidence and said: “Batsmanship, eh?” He was suitably perplexed.
England’s scoring was soon put into perspective when Australia batted, however. Woodfull made 155, Ponsford 81. The biggest wound came from Bradman who, now on his way to smashing even the records set by Hammond in Australia in 1928/29, played his way to 254 off 376 balls. After he was out, Kippax went for 83, McCabe for 44. Tate had Richardson caught by Hobbs, his first and only wicket, with the team on 643 for five. Woodfull’s captaincy proved as relentless as his batting, until even he lost patience and declared on 729 for six. It was easily the highest total in Ashes history, beating the 636 reached by England at Sydney in 1928/29.
Tate’s figures were the worst of his career so far: one for 148. However, he could claim to have been the most economical by far of the England attack, his 64 overs going for just over two runs apiece. Robins conceded 172 off 42 and debutant fast bowler Gubby Allen none for 115 off 34.
Still, England were not done. They posted a solid 375 off 116.4 overs. The star this time was Chapman, his 121 off 166 balls his only century in Tests. Tate was out to Grimmett for ten. Australia came back in needing just 72 to win, but they lost three wickets in doing so. Tate had the consolation of having Bradman caught by Chapman for just one run. Australia may have won by seven wickets, but Tate had got rid of the little genius yet again.
Tate had two uneventful games against Gloucestershire and Kent before it was time for England and Australia to meet once again, this time at Headingley. If they thought Duleep and Bradman’s efforts at Lord’s could not be surpassed, commentators, and the Yorkshire public, were in for a surprise.
Woodfull won the toss and Australia batted on what appeared to be a very good pitch. It looked like it might get exciting again, as Tate had Archie Jackson caught by Larwood for one, the team score on just two. Bradman, having made a hundred and a double hundred in his first two Tests in England, came in. It was almost over within seconds. Tate wrote: “The first ball I bowled him pitched on his middle stump and only missed the off peg by a coat of varnish. Everyone round the crease gasped.”
The increase in the size of stumps introduced to county cricket the previous year, to give the bowlers more support, had not been agreed to for Test matches by the Australian authorities. Having lost two series in a row, they did not want to offer the home side any advantage by making conditions more conducive. The ball tended to stay lower and seam more in England, making the lbw or being bowled more likely anyway. The near-miss might have been a turning point in the Ashes, had the stumps been just a tad wider. As it was, under the unreformed size stipulation, Bradman was still in.
With Woodfull he put on a partnership of 192. To illustrate Bradman’s dominance during this passage of play, Woodfull was eventually out – for 50. Bradman was in the mood to go on and on. He and Kippax put on another 229 before the latter fell to Tate, caught by Chapman, for 77. Larwood bowled McCabe for 30 and Tate had Richardson caught by Larwood for one. Yet Bradman, utilising his early good fortune, was supreme. He became the first man to score a triple century in Tests, achieving the feat in a single day.
On the second morning, with the team score on 508 for five, even Bradman made a mistake, being caught by Duckworth off Tate for 334. Tate had got his man – finally. He was in chuntering mood in his column in Reynold’s Illustrated News. After bemoaning the lack of care taken to fill in bowlers’ footholes, and therefore reduce injuries, he turned his attention to the stumps question. Tate felt sure the Australians would be “converted” once they had tried bigger wickets, as it had had the “desired effect” on the county game, that the “bowler gets a little of the help which, according to figures, he stands in need of”.
After dismissing Bradman, Tate had Oldfield caught by Hobbs for two – his fifth wicket of the innings. The tail performed and Australia were all out for 566. Bradman, of course, was extraordinary, scoring more than half of Australia’s runs. What is forgotten, though, is Tate’s equally dominant performance amid such carnage. He bowled 39 overs for his five wickets for 124 runs. The rest of the England attack conceded 428 runs off 129 overs in getting the other five. Had Tate not bowled, goodness knows how many runs the Australians might have accrued.
In his Life Story, published eight years later, Bradman said a “number fiend” had told him Chapman had made 25 bowling changes during the day of his triple century. The England team managed some gallows humour, based on Tate’s misplaced technical advice to the Australian genius back in 1928/29. Bradman recalled wicketkeeper George Duckworth chirping his team-mate: “I thought you could get him out in England off that cross-bat shot, Maurice. When are you going to start?” Bradman, always scrupulously polite in his public discourse, added: “Tate’s reply reflected very great credit on the groundsman who prepared the wicket, ie from a batting point of view.”
England reached 391 in their reply, Grimmett getting another five wickets and Hammond, seething at the way Bradman was trying to usurp his dominance, hitting 113. Woodfull enforced the follow-on, but only three wickets fell in the 51.5 overs bowled.
It had undeniably been Bradman’s game but it was still a draw. In the grander scheme, grander even than Bradman’s achievements, the Ashes series of 1930 was still 1-1 with two to play. A single win or two draws for England would see them retain the Ashes.
In the meantime, Tate once again had money on his mind. On the last day of the Leeds Test, the London press reported that he had received yet another “generous offer” to play for a club in the Lancashire League and forego the first-class game. It must have been tempting, having bowled at Bradman. The story caused consternation among Sussex fans. So two telegrams were sent from Headingley to Hove to inform county secretary Lance Knowles that it was incorrect. One, from Arthur Gilligan, said: “Please deny rumours circulated that Tate is leaving Sussex going Lancashire league. Maurice says no foundation whatever.” The other, from Tate himself, stated: “Utterly no truth in statement. Remaining with Sussex – TATE.”
There may have been nothing other than rumour-mongering behind the report, but Tate had mentioned league cricket before when trying to remind Sussex’s committee and supporters of his value. The story was suspiciously timely, as his benefit match was due to take place a fortnight later.
Any news regarding those taking part in such an absorbing Ashes series was eagerly conveyed by the media. But the fourth Test, at Old Trafford, proved a far less spectacular affair than that at Leeds. Australia won the toss, batted and made 345. Ponsford top scored with 83, Bradman for once going cheaply, for 14. Tate took the first wicket, getting Woodfull caught by Duckworth for 54. He had no more success in his 30 overs, which went for just 39 runs. England’s reply ended on 251 for eight, when rain finally ended the game. Tate made 15 before being dismissed by part-time bowler Stan McCabe.
The rain-ruined match is most memorable for another Tate comment. Sitting in the England dressing room on the fourth day, he reportedly removed his pipe from his mouth, pointed at the sky and said to Chapman: “See that cloud, skipper?” Unable to miss it, Chapman asked: “Well?” With a great sense of seriousness, Tate replied: “It flatters but to deceive.” No one then, or since, has quite made sense of it.
Chapman was not to know that dark clouds were settling above his captaincy too, the selectors not happy with his batting performances or his growing reputation as a heavy drinker. Just like 1926, when Carr was jettisoned in a do-or-die final effort, the Ashes were set for a thrilling denouement. The Oval encounter was again made ‘timeless’ to engineer a result.
England changed captain for the final game. Warwickshire batsman Bob Wyatt was brought in for Chapman, whose form had declined. Tate was indignant in his memoirs, praising Chapman’s “superb fielding, his personality and his winning record”. He said the team had been “solid for him, and disgusted when we discovered the rumour all too true that he was to be dropped”. He even said the players “loved” Chapman. However, for the selectors, a change of leader had worked at the Oval four years earlier, so why not try it again?
Tate, in his column, mulled over the idea of picking Wilfred Rhodes, now aged 52, to bring in the same match-winning nous that had been so useful four years earlier. The selectors decided against this course of action. Tate also warned colleagues and fans alike to keep a “sense of proportion” over Bradman. He was only one member of the team, after all.
Could England take a third Ashes series in a row? Fans queued around the Oval on the morning of 16th August, hoping that Bradman would finally have a bad game, restoring England’s task to something more manageable. Wyatt won the toss and decided to bat. Hobbs was out for 47, but Sutcliffe carried on to make 161. Wyatt himself was next top scorer with 64 and Duleep made a handy 50. Tate was again out to the wily Grimmett, for ten, as England made 405 on a good pitch. It was an OK total, but nothing special in such conditions.
Torture ensued. Woodfull made 54, Ponsford 110 and Bradman yet another huge score: 232. The middle order also did well, Jackson making 73, McCabe 54 and Alan Fairfax 53 not out. The Australians were all out for 695, a whopping total.
Tate had last man Hornibrook caught by Duckworth. This left him with figures of one for 153, the most expensive analysis of his Test career, just surpassing the showing at Lord’s earlier in the summer. Yet Tate was not a beaten man. He had managed to concede an average of just over two runs off each of his 65.1 overs. It was a huge effort, but England would need something mighty special from the batsmen to put themselves in a winning position.
It was not to be. Hornibrook took seven for 92 with his slow left-armers as England reached just 251, losing by an innings and 39 runs. Tate, batting at number eight, was run out for a duck, Kippax sending in an excellent return from cover-point to hit the one stump he could see. Tate had no idea at the time, but it was to be his last act in Ashes cricket. It was a sad way to go after the record-breaking of 1924/25 and the profile he had built, but he had by no means disgraced himself. He took 15 wickets at 38.26 during the series. Such figures are rather noble when achieved in the face of Bradman’s onslaught, the like of which cricket had never known before – and has not seen since.
The two men faced each other when Bradman was at his peak and Tate was past his. The batsman acknowledged this in 1938, saying Tate had been adjudged “the finest bowler that England has sent to Australia since the war” but he had “lost a bit of his zip” by 1928/29, although remaining a fine bowler.
Tate was responsible for five of Bradman’s first 13 dismissals in Tests. Only Hedley Verity, with eight dismissals, and Alec Bedser, with six, did better over the course of their careers. Like Tate, Larwood and Bill Bowes both managed five. What entertainment there would have been had Bradman and Tate met while both were at their best.