Les Jackson was one of the greatest bowlers to ever play the game of cricket.
He played two Test matches.
There you have it, encapsulated in two short sentences, what has been wrong with cricket for very many years. The fact is, to get any recognition as a Derbyshire player, you have to be at least twice as good as the rest.
Les took 1733 wickets at a shade over 17 runs each over a career that lasted from 1947 to 1963. Throughout that time, especially through the 1950's, he was widely regarded as the best new ball bowler in the country. Yet the sum of his Test career is two caps 14 years apart, in 1947 and 1961. In those two Tests, he took seven wickets at 22 each, which suggests he could have handled that level of the game. Some might argue that there were many fine seam bowlers at that time, and will cite the names of Trueman, Statham, Loader, Shackleton and Tyson. Fair enough, but they weren't always in the side and bowlers like John Warr and Peter Loader - neither of whom could hold a candle to "our Les" had much more recognition.
Tom Graveney, Ted Dexter, Peter May and many more all said that the best bowler in the country, day in, day out, was Les Jackson. That he got no real recognition was down to two things. One was his unconventional action, the other that he was a coal miner.
Let's take the action first. Les bowled off a relatively short run with a slinging, round arm action that saw his arm come over middle stump. This closeness to the wicket helped him get countless lbw decisions, but it was his pace off the pitch that accounted for so many. Tom Graveney said that whenever he met Les socially he started rubbing the inside of his right thigh, where he constantly got hit by the bowler's unexpected nip. Ted Dexter said that he thought he could bat until he came up against Jackson at Derby and couldn't lay a bat on him. With a helpful wicket, he would jar hands against handles, bruise thighs, ribs and hands as the ball, time and again hit the right length. One of his former colleagues recalls going out to the middle at the end of an innings and laying down a handkerchief that completely covered where Les had pitched his bowling.
In the 1950's, Derbyshire may well have won the championship if they'd had one top batsman. Players like Arnold Hamer, Donald Carr, Derek Morgan and others scored their runs, but none were so prolific that the bowlers had runs to play with. They always managed "just enough" - 200 would give Les and Cliff Gladwin something to play with, and they won a remarkable number of matches with bowling of accuracy, hostility, cunning and skill. Derek Morgan said that he owed a lot of his wickets to batsmen taking risks against him when they'd not seen a loose ball in the opening spells.
My Dad told me that if he was picking an eleven to play Mars, the first two names on his team sheet would be Geoff Boycott and Les Jackson. Over the past 40 years in our many chats about the respective merits of our bowlers, he'll come up with some grudging praise - "he's good, but he's no Les Jackson".
Dad was a miner too, and all of us from those coalfields knew why Les wasn't considered good enough. It was the same reason why Nottinghamshire bowler Tom "Topsy" Wass was overlooked earlier in the century (a selector of the time said his table manners were inadequate...) The same reason why Bill Copson never got picked, or George Pope, Alf Pope and many others. Les once reputedly held Dick Spooner of Warwickshire over the side of a boat en route to a Commonwealth tour of India for speaking disrespectfully of miners. They tried to get around his non-selection by saying that he couldn't come back for a second spell, a ludicrous assertion for a man who bowled around 900 overs a season. His captain at Derbyshire, Donald Carr, regularly bowled him all morning then brought him back after lunch, hardly the sign of a delicate constitution.
Even after he retired he played for a number of years as a League professional and always took wickets, seldom got hit. I saw him once, playing for Derbyshire against the International Cavaliers in 1968. I was only nine, and regret not knowing enough at that time to really appreciate the last sight of a legend.
One of my most treasured possessions is a letter from Les. For years, my Dad had told me that he had seen him bat for Derbyshire in his first season wearing only one pad. It never made it to his excellent biography by Mike Carey, and I wanted to see if it was true. Having no address, I phoned Whitwell Post Office and asked if I sent a letter to them, they would pass it to him. They were happy to do so, and a week later, I was thrilled to get a reply from him confirming it and talking about players he'd faced. Later that summer Dad and I met him at the County Ground, I got his autograph and my Dad, for the first time in his life, was tongue-tied in the presence of his hero. For ten minutes we talked cricket and it was something we will always remember. The subject of "the pad" came up
"Aye" said Les, a right hand batsman "an' it were on my right leg 'n' all..."
Modest of his achievements, Donald Carr once said that he was amazed how Les could move the ball off the seam on the flooring in the indoor nets. How, he asked, did he grip the ball?
"Skipper, I just pick it up and bugger about wi' it until summat 'appens"
It's not every day that you get a letter from a legend, rarer still to meet one. Irrespective of the thoughts of England selectors of the era, Les Jackson was most definitely that, and it was an honour to have known him
Top article
ReplyDelete