The day's play

by A. A. Milne

AN AVERAGE MAN

Of Tomkins as a natural cricketer
It frequently has been remarked—that IF
He'd had more opportunities of bowling,
And rather more encouragement in batting,
And IF his averages, so disclosed,
Batting and bowling, had been interchanged;
And IF the field as usually set
Contained some post (at the pavilion end)
Whose presence rather than a pair of hands
Was called for; then, before the season finished,
Tomkins would certainly have played for Kent.

All this, however, is beside the mark.
Just now I wish to hymn the glorious day
(Ignored by those who write the almanacs,
Unnoticed by the calendar compilers),
That Wednesday afternoon, twelve months ago
When Tomkins raised his average to two.

Thanks to an interval of accidents
(As "Tomkins did not bat"—and "not out 0,"
But this more rarely) Tomkins' average
Had long remained at 1.3.
(Though Tomkins, sacrificing truth to pride,
Or both to euphony, left out the dot—

Left out the little dot upon the three,
Only employing it to justify
A second three to follow on the first.
Thus, if a stranger asked his average
Tomkins would answer "One point thirty-three"—
Nor lay the stress unduly on the "one" ...).

A curious thing is custom! There are men—
Plum Warner is, of course, a case in point—
Who cannot bat unless they go in first.
Others, as Hayes and Denton, have their place
First wicket down; while Number Six or so
Is suited best to Jessop. As for Tomkins
His place was always one above the Byes,
And three above the Wides. So Custom willed.

Upon this famous Wednesday afternoon
Wickets had fallen fast before the onslaught
Of one who had, as Euclid might have put it,
No length, or break, but only pace; and pace
Had been too much for nine of them already.
Then entered Tomkins the invincible.
Took guard as usual, "just outside the leg,"
Looked round the field, and mentally decided
To die—or raise his average to two.
Whereon—for now the bowler was approaching,
He struck a scientific attitude,
Advanced the left leg firmly down the pitch,
And swung his bat along the line AB
(See Ranjitsinhji's famous book of cricket).

And when the bat and leg were both at B
(Having arrived there more or less together),
Then Tomkins, with his usual self-effacement,
Modestly closed his eyes, and left the rest
To Providence and Ranjy and the bowler
(Forming a quorum); two at least of whom
Resolved that he should neatly glide the ball
Somewhere between the first and second slips.
So Tomkins did compile a chanceless two.

Once more the bowler rushed upon the crease,
While Tomkins made a hasty calculation
(Necessitating use of decimals)
And found his average was 1.5.
So lustily he smote and drove the ball
Loftily over long stop's head for one;
Which brought the decimal to seventy-five,
And Tomkins, puffing, to the other end.
Then, feeling that the time for risks was come,
He rolled his sleeves up, blew upon his hands,
And played back to a yorker, and was bowled.

Every position has its special charm.
You go in first and find as a reward
The wicket at its best; you go in later
And find the fielders slack, the bowling loose.
Tomkins, who went in just above the Byes,
Found one of them had slipped into his score.
'Tis wise to take the good the gods provide you—
And Tomkins has an average of two.

SMALL GAMES