These three matches—namely, the two first-class games lost by the Africans in 1904 and the Test match won by them at Lord’s—have been dwelt upon at some length in order to remind readers that the performances of that team were the performances of fine cricketers, and any intelligent student of the game who saw Mr. Mitchell’s men in the field must have realised that it was no fool’s job to find a team to beat them.
Now let us see what happens afterwards. Affairs settle down after the war in South Africa, and the time arrives when the Colonies are prepared to try their strength against the mother country.
South African cricketers are anxious to receive a visit from an English team, to treat all the members as their guests, and to pay the salaries of the professionals. In a spirit of the most confident loyalty, African cricket places herself in the hands of the Marylebone Club.
Africa is to pay the piper, the Marylebone Club is to call the tune. The tune has been played to its dismal end, and of the five Test matches four have resulted disastrously for soi-disant England, the one win for the M.C.C. team being by a narrow enough margin.
Without committing oneself to any criticism of the composition of the team which was sent under the auspices of the Marylebone Club to Africa to render an account of English cricket, it may be sufficient for present purposes to suggest that if that team had been advertised to play at one of the gate-money carnivals of cricket at Blackpool or Bournemouth, and labelled according to custom “An Eleven of England,” there would probably have been no unseemly rush of trippers hustling for a shilling seat to watch their performances. Yet, according to this contention, what Blackpool would not afford in the way of extravagance, South Africa had to endure to the end.
An endeavour has been made to be very moderate in the premises, and now it is time to turn to the remarks made respectively by Mr. Warner, whom we have styled Chief Secretary for the Colonies, and Mr. Lacey, the Prime Minister of Cricket.
In the hour of disastrous rout and defeat they have been interviewed each “on his own,” separated from one another by thousands of miles. Let us see what they say.
Mr. Warner says “the Africans were undoubtedly the superior side, especially on their own wickets. It was a good thing they had won the Test matches, as it had given a fillip to the game in South Africa.”
So Mr. Warner says it is a good thing that the side styled “England” has lost the matches styled Test matches, for that will give a fillip to cricket in South Africa. One wonders if it will!
It might have seemed obvious that South African cricket “filliped” itself when its representatives swept the field in 1904, and one must bear in mind that the Australians—who, at all events, can always be depended upon to send their best—have met with more than one reverse when they have taken on a South African team. One might ask a good sportsman like Mr. Warner whether it is likely to give a fillip to a good shot to have to give the coup de grace to a wounded hare or to go through the dull routine of killing a low-flying pheasant? Or, perhaps, to get back to his freehold, the popping-crease, to ask him would he prefer to score 128 runs against Africa or against XVIII. of Middleburg.