This is an art which the above-mentioned critics lament as having died out. It may be suspected that they missed as many catches as the present generation, but still the present generation miss more than they ought. All fine country fields catch the ball close to the body—nay, more close to the head—and rightly so, because the eye is more in a line with the ball, and with the hands in the position shown in [fig. 1], not in the way shown in [fig. 2]. If a young player begins in the wrong way, he will miss one or two and get nervous. It is worth remembering that folios of rules will never make a nervous field keep hold of a country catch. Cold hands are a frequent cause of failure, but loss of confidence and the disorganisation of the nervous system is the commonest reason, and a constant prayer of many a cricketer is to be spared a high catch.
Fig. 1.—The right way to catch.
When a field begins to be uncertain, he should keep wicket to fast bowling for a quarter of an hour a day, and field somewhere close in for a week or so. The wicket-keeping will practise his eye, and the fielding close in will spare his nerves during this educational process. Practice is, of course, useful for long catches, but only up to a certain point. A player may alter from a bad style of catching to a good one by practice, but a very safe catch in practice is frequently a bad performer in a match, simply on account of nervousness. For sharp catches, wicket-keeping is, perhaps, the only thing that will help. The peculiar faculty they demand is, like the spin in bowling, something that cannot be taught, the possession of which is a guarantee of genius.
Fig. 2.—The wrong way to catch.
And now for those who occupy the separate places, first among whom we are surely right in dealing with the
WICKET-KEEPER.
A little thought makes it clear that there are given at least three chances of catching to one of stumping a man out. And so the wicket-keeper must first feel the ball safe and warm in his hands before he attempts to put the wicket down. This advice sounds obvious, but it is so often disregarded that it must be insisted on. The first rule accordingly is, that the ball must not be snatched at, but received. This snapping used to be a very common fault with amateurs, and the great George Pinder’s remark, ‘You amateurs snap ’em a bit,’ hit on a then weak spot in amateur wicket-keeping. Another reason for not snapping is one that will certainly strike home, and that is, that the non-snapper is not nearly so likely to hurt his hands, as one form of snapping consists in jerking the hands quickly forward to meet the ball, and thereby resisting a blow instead of waiting for it. Another danger of snapping is, that you run the risk of moving your hands in such a way that instead of the ball striking the palms of the hands where it does not hurt, it strikes you on the top of the thumb or fingers, causing an agony that only wicket-keepers can rightly appreciate. Hardly any two wicket-keepers stand alike, so take any position that is natural to you, as was recommended in the chapter on Batting, only bearing one fact in mind, which is, to avoid standing so far away as not to be able comfortably to put down the wicket without moving the legs. The postures generally assumed are, it must be confessed, the reverse of graceful; they are too well known to need description, but the two most common forms are shown in the figures given on pp. [252] and [254]. In one figure we recognise the massive proportions of the famous Sherwin. It is wise to teach the beginner to stand still and not to move his feet till the ball is hit by the batsman or has passed his hands or is in his hands. We say beginners because some famous wicket-keepers do move right in front of the ball, but if a beginner moves his feet it may be inferred that he funks the ball, and is getting out of its way. Again, you may not be able to take many leg-balls, but every time you do put the wicket down, not regarding the fact that the batsman may not be out of his ground. If you wait to look, he certainly will not wait to get back, warned as he is by the sound of the ball impinging on the gloves that there is no time for loitering about. We do not say that an appeal ought to be made to the umpire every time that the wicket is put down; that ought only to be done when you think that the batsman was out of his ground; unless this is the case it is an unfair and unsportsmanlike proceeding.