The Demon and the Daredevil

Take a stroll with me, if you will.

The year is 1878 and it’s a fine May day in London. On street corners, young boys spruik the news that an MCC XI has been dismissed for 33 and for 19 at Lord’s by a touring Australian outfit.

The Doctor, W.G. Grace, out for a duck, bowled by a tearaway from Balmain in New South Wales.

The bowler, one Frederick Robert Spofforth, hadn’t stopped at Grace’s wicket – in fact, he finished the day with the remarkable figures of 10-20 across both innings.

Not bad for a skinny 24-year-old on his first international tour. Imagine the fanfare if this performance were repeated today.

But more than just taking wickets by the bag full, Spofforth was on his way to revolutionising the fledgling sport of cricket.

His rise was rapid.

His was a staggering metamorphosis from underarm lobber to a devoted student of the game who had watched the English touring party of 1863-64 keenly and put his observations into practice to much success in years to come. 

Spofforth’s realisation was that the only way he’d succeed at international level was by bowling overarm, just like the Englishmen – after all, New Zealand hadn’t arrived on the cricket scene at that stage.

And so he practiced and polished his game, rising through the ranks in New South Wales and earning his place in Australian XIs.

But it was after bowling Grace on that fateful day at the spiritual home of cricket that he dubbed himself ‘The Demon’ and set about establishing himself as one of cricket’s first superstars.

Reportedly pleased with the sobriquet, Spofforth didn’t plan to rest on his laurels. He became the first international bowler to eye-ball batsmen in a bid to unsettle them. He would go on to take the first hat-trick in Test cricket at the MCG in 1879.

But more than this, Spofforth became an innovator.

He reinvented his game – and the game – and in doing so further cemented his reputation as one of cricket’s early greats.

The Demon was the first player to employ a change of pace in his arsenal. Having started as a tearaway quick, the Sydneysider soon learned he could confuse a batsman by varying his speed.

He could impart more spin on his ‘break back’ when it was delivered slowly and he could also ‘swerve’ the ball at pace.

The slow ‘break back’ – widely known today as the off break – was particularly effective for Spofforth, allowing him to clean bowl a large proportion of his victims.

‘Swerve’, now known as swing, was hardest to play when delivered at greater velocity.

Following the 1878 tour, it was noted by John Trumble that Spofforth was, in fact, a master of the game and able to deliver “a completely disguised combination of the three paces; and those who saw him bowling at his best will remember to what perfection he attained in this direction. His action on delivery was exactly the same for all of the three paces, and it was in his magnificent concealment of change in the pace of his bowling that he stood out from all other bowlers of all time."

Imagine the consternation that must have done the rounds in the English rooms following a day facing The Demon.

Bearded Chap 1: “What ho? That colonial upstart fairly flummoxed me with his violent swerve. It didn’t half scurry through.”

Bearded Chap 2: “Strange… I had time to play my shot twice, I swear. That back break has given me plenty to contemplate as I stoke my pipe, what.”

Bearded Chap 1: “No doubt. And a fine pipe it is.”

Bearded Chap 2: “Yes, well it is fashioned from a Dodo’s skull. See?”

Bearded Chap 1: “A Dodo, you say?”

Bearded Chap 2: “Indeed. A fascinatingly useless bird. Totally flightless, I tell you.”

W.G. Grace: “Come now, chaps. Don’t lose your focus. That demon also bowled The Doctor today. Bowled me clean. And with a delivery not fast or slow, ‘twas rather medium-paced. Frightfully cunning.”

Bearded Chap 1: “I’ll say.”

W.G. Grace: “We must learn from his trickery and adapt. We must evolve, dear boys, otherwise the gig is up. We shan’t be Dodos now, shall we?”

Whether Grace responded to Spofforth’s arrival on the cricket scene in such a manner is unknowable. But it’s comforting to think the Big ‘Un was open to the prospect of his beloved sport evolving through the deeds of The Demon.

And all of 97-years after his death, it’s not impossible to imagine he’d accept David Warner’s ‘switch hitting’ as just another evolution in the game.

Warner has trod the boards in T20 competitions around the globe, perhaps learning the importance of inovation while on duty with the Delhi Daredevils in the IPL.

Warner is a master of the newest cricket format and while it’s as plain as the zinc on Mike Hussey’s face that T20 cricket is as far removed from 19^th Century Test cricket as could be, if only through the use of leather and willow the two games are inextricably linked.

So when the nuggety Daredevil strides onto the MCG later today and you hold your breath waiting for the first sign of a switch, think back to days of yore and wonder where cricket would be without innovators.

Sweep shots? Forget about it. Self-respecting batsmen stand upright only.

A flipper? What the fuck’s a flipper and is it fair to trick the batsman like that?

Hell, the stock standard slower ball may not be what it is if not for the innovation of that whippy young Demon, Spofforth.

And if Spofforth’s trickery was good enough for Grace, Warner’s brashness and ability should be good enough for all of us from Jim Maxwell to Mark Nicholas and back again.

Get out of the mud you sticks that would have the shot banned. Open your eyes to cricket in the 21^st Century.

Embrace the age-old contest between bat and ball and let these colour-clad gladiators do their worst, playing at a mile-a-minute and filling highlight packages with aplomb.

Sit back, cue the theme from Gladiator and, using your best Russel Crowe voice, ask yourself the two following questions.

Are you not entertained? Is this not why you are here?

If not, tune out, change channel and get the hell out of Dodge. Now is not your time. Your time has passed.

You, Sir, have gone the way of the Dodo.