From Distant Lands to Derbyshire Number 1: Chris Wilkins

 I started watching Derbyshire in 1967. It wasn't that much fun, because we were a poor side. I perhaps didn't realise that at the time as I had no prior experience, but there were precious few wins in those early summers.

Batsmen didn't so much bat against the clock as the sundial. "He'll never die of a stroke" said my Dad about more than one regular. Attrition was the order of the day, an occasional shot being a relief from the ongoing tedium. The bowling was steady, at times penetrative, but it needed something special by them to give us any chance of the spoils.

I'd make honourable exception for Peter Gibbs, who came from Oxford University to play front foot shots that  we weren't used to seeing, especially through the covers. Worthy cricketers as they were, you didn't go home having witnessed an innings of brilliance by Ian Hall, Derek Morgan or David Smith. Functional and effective was the order of the day.

Then came Chris Wilkins. Derbyshire were late into the overseas market and didn't sign one until the 1970 season. Only they and Yorkshire held firm against the tide, the latter because they had a very good team, didn't need one and - well, were Yorkshire. Our reasons were primarily financial - money was tight.

Essex had Keith Boyce, Glamorgan had Majid Khan, Gloucestershire had Mike Procter, Hampshire had Barry Richards - the list went on. Nottinghamshire signed the big cheese himself , the great Garfield Sobers.
We signed a South African who no one had heard of named Chris Wilkins.

To be fair, a few good judges in South Africa labelled him 'better than Barry Richards'. It was an unfair comment, as there have been few in the history of the game better than the imperious South African opener. Derbyshire's decision to sign him cannot have been based on track record. Having made his first-class debut in 1962-63, by 1970 the 26-year old Wilkins had only 1800 first-class runs at an average of just over 30. Hardly overwhelming evidence that he would transform our fortunes. Two centuries in eight seasons?

When Wilkins first appeared over here, swathed in sweaters that made him look the size of Colin Milburn at early season photo calls, we wondered what we had let ourselves in for and the first few weeks did little to dispel doubters. He opened and struggled against the moving ball, making few scores above 30. It was hardly surprising for a player with limited experience (only 58 innings) on even his own wickets, so Derbyshire captain Ian Buxton decided to move him down the order to number four. And it happened...

Wilkins showed himself to be a brilliant striker of a ball. We began to turn up for matches hoping that Peter Gibbs and David Smith might make a start but that Smith wouldn't stay too long as he wasn't (to me) very exciting. Then you hoped that Mike Page, an increasingly attractive batsman, might get a few. But you hoped, really hoped, that they'd see enough shine off the new ball to enable Wilkins to come in and play his shots.

I considered myself his lucky mascot, as I never saw him make less than 35. There was an "ooh" when the second wicket went down and you would see people sitting up in their seats, others being woken up and more putting down newspapers as we waited for Wilkins to make his way from the pavilion. Even his walk to the middle bristled with aggression.

We knew that Wilkins was as likely to go for the bowling from the first ball as any other time. It could lead to his downfall, of course. In his superb book on cricket captaincy, Mike Brearley recounted how Wilkins required mid off and mid on to go deeper as soon as he took guard, as anything 'in the slot' was likely to go 'over the top'. I remember several punishing innings by him, one on a turning wicket at Chesterfield where Northamptonshire spinners Breakwell, Swinburne and Steele, were causing problems. Wilkins twice sashayed down the track and hit off spinner John Swinburne into the boating lake, finally perishing after a brisk 68. I've still not seen those shots replicated, but Wilkins was a huge hitter. He used a three-pound bat that a former team mate told me 'picked up six ounces heavier' and anything middled went a long way.

In the second innings of that match he made the fastest century of the season, from 70-odd balls and throughout the summer was near the top of a six-hit table run by a Sunday newspaper. At Derby in the John Player League he made a flawless 50 against Surrey, with one six over mid-wicket that just missed Dad's Ford Anglia, parked some way back on the mound, where the stand is today. At Buxton, we were slaughtered by Jack Bond's marauding Lancashire, with Frank Hayes, Faroukh Engineer and John Sullivan putting them way out of our reach. Yet still, Wilkins went down fighting. He hit Clive Lloyd's medium pace for a straight six that is even now the biggest I have seen, still rising as it left the arena.

By the end of the summer, Wilkins had amassed 1638 first-class runs at 40. In 1971 he made 1517 at 35 and in 1972 just over a thousand from far fewer innings. Diminished returns didn't truly reflect an enhanced technique and improved ability to capitalise on a start, but then Wilkins was gone, as quickly as he came. There were over 400 one-day runs each season too, as well as handy wickets with right arm medium pace that once dismissed Boycott on 99. Mind you, he once dismissed the outstanding Zaheer Abbas with slow-left arm...

Sadly his charisma didn't improve fortunes, despite an encouraging Sunday League and Championship season of 1970. The side slipped back into old ways and the side probably needed someone with a greater guarantee of runs than Wilkins' ebullient style offered. On his good days it was magnificent, but there were a few too many skied shots before he got into his stride for a side with precious little to follow.

He was a lively presence in the covers and a safe pair of hands at slip, as well as an occasional wicket-keeper. In short he was a good cricketer - not the best we've had, but an entertainer par excellence. You couldn't play that way and average 60, but he would have earned a lot of money in T20 today. Don't get the idea that he was like Shahid Afridi, all slog and little substance. He could play in an orthodox manner, but often chose the aerial route. His aggression was slightly tempered with each passing season, but he remained a delight to watch.

Two more memories to close. At Ilkeston we were chasing a Hampshire score of around 170 in the 40-over John Player League and were far from confident. They had a fair side and their opening bowlers were sometime England man  "Butch" White, a lively handful for any side, and the legendary Derek Shackleton, one of the game's most economical bowlers.

This was the day that David Smith went berserk. After a slow start where we despaired of any sort of challenge, he took on Shackleton and hit him to all parts. Well, mainly over midwicket, with pulls, sweeps, hoiks and cow shots. He made 80 in the time he usually reserved for reaching double figures, then got out with only ten needed. In came Wilkins. Bam! Bam! One four, one six, two balls, game won...

Finally a Sunday televised game, also against Hampshire. Barry Richards made a quite breathtaking 80 in their innings. Then Chris Wilkins did the same for us, as we won a thrilling game on the last ball.

Maybe those judges were right. On that afternoon, there really was nothing between them..

Postscript - if anyone has a picture of Chris Wilkins, I would be so grateful if you could mail me one! Sadly, there's not one to be found on the web...