Appearances

Take Tom, for instance, in the slips,

Arms akimbo, hands on hips,

Creamy whites & old club sweater,

A chap could hardly turn out better.

His cap in burgundy & yellow

Gives some kudos to the fellow;

He dropped the opener at the start,

So what? At least he looked the part.

The skipper wishes all his men did

Manage to appear so splendid.

A cricketer, it must be said,

Should have a cap upon his head

Consistent with the fading dream

In caramel & mauve & cream,

Conjuring images of Eton,

Of carrying one’s bat, unbeaten;

Rich & famous flannelled fools,

Amateurs from Public Schools,

Trevor Bailey, Norman Yardley,

Freddie Truman? no, well hardly!

The modern cap has no panache

Its baseball style is cheap & brash

They make us old boys rage & tremble

Convinced that cricketers resemble

Norman Wisdom or Jack Horner

Selling peanuts on the corner;

No hoops, no segments, stripes or rings,

No funny little button things;

How can a chappie be admired

When so stupidly attired?

Those buckskin boots are father fine,

Circa 1949.

Ankle deep in eyelet holes

Bash-in studs and leather soles,

Just the job for kicking doors,

Roughing up pavilion floors

And, in the twilight years of cricket,

Stopping boundaries, at mid-wicket;

Substantial, so you’d never know

You’d stopped a yorker on the toe.

It’s sometimes rather hard I fear

To lay your hands on classy gear,

Flannels flatter any bloke

So get ‘em made in cream, bespoke.

Never mind if standards lapse

Join the clubs with decent caps,

And finally, if all else fails,

Visit local jumble sales

Rummage round & if your luck’s in

You might find some boots- in buckskin!

 So cheer up sir – don’t be dejected,

Look the part & get selected.

By Arthur Salway