Old Trafford, July 27th 1956
Good day for England. We’ve a lead of 406 still on first innings and the Australians are already one down. Laker got it; Colin McDonald nicely caught by yours truly. You’re welcome, chummy. I should have had at least two leg-befores, a stumping, and any number of half-chances past slip, but I suppose I was happy enough to see Jim have his bit of success. It’ll be my turn tomorrow, I’m sure.
Old Trafford, July 28th
G.A.R. Lock 14 overs, 3 maidens, 1 for 37
J.C. Laker 16.4 overs, 4 maidens, 9 for 37
What a fluky beggar. Nine bleeding wickets in all, and every one of them a result of my hard work and his good fortune. The turning-point was without doubt me getting rid of Burke, with His Majesty Cowdrey deigning to pouch the catch. Of course, after I’d kicked the door open, old Jim rushed through. Seven wickets for eight to wrap the innings up? What a show-off. And who’s at the other end, setting them up like a slow-left arm barmaid? Muggins here.
We asked the Australians to follow on, so there was just time for a quick cup of tea in the dressing-room. I get in there, and guess who’s had the last of the good sandwiches? Nancy Nine-Fer. He comes over, all friendly like, and you know what he has the cheek to say? “Great spell at the other end there, Tony. Here, I saved you the last of the cheese and pickle, mate.” He knows fine well that I’m an egg and cress man, the selfish sod.
Old Trafford, July 29th
Rest day. Boring. But at least Laker didn’t get any bloody wickets. My wickets.
Old Trafford, July 30th
Rained almost all day so stayed in the dressing-room. Played pontoon. Lost half my match fee to Laker. I don’t think he even knows how to play the game: he twisted and hit 19, time and time again. Let’s just hope he’s used up all his luck before tomorrow.
Old Trafford, July 31st
G.A.R. Lock 55 overs, 30 maidens, 0 for 69
J.C. Laker 51.2 overs, 23 maidens, 10 for 53
Jammy bastard.