The A-Z of Derbyshire Cricket - J is for Jackson: Les Jackson

Les Jackson.

It has to be, doesn't it? If you asked every Derbyshire supporter to name a greatest ever XI, I find it hard to believe anyone would omit him.

There were other good candidates among the J's. His namesake Brian, who followed him into the Derbyshire side from league cricket, was himself a very good bowler and made up an outstanding opening attack with Harold Rhodes for a few seasons. There was also GR Jackson, a determined batsman and good captain who was largely responsible for bringing together the players of the 1936 Championship side.

Then there was Laurie Johnson, arguably the most entertaining batsman in the side from the early 1950s to mid-1960s. Born and brought up in the Caribbean, Johnson brought a range of untypical shots to the Derbyshire side in that period, all flowing drives and rapier cuts. His average may not have matched his talent, but Johnson was, by all accounts, a fine player to watch on the often rain-affected tracks that he and his generation played on.

Nor should we overlook the sterling efforts of Steffan Jones, nor the one season of brilliance that we saw from Dean Jones, a contender for the most complete all-round batsman we have seen at the club. Jones could dig in when the situation demanded, display all the shots that anyone could need and run like a whippet between wickets. Without doubt he was the best pacer and finisher of an innings I have seen in the club colours and he took the club closer to the Championship  than anyone else in recent memory, as an aggressive captain who unfortunately managed to polarise a dressing room full of strong characters.

Yet, at the end of it all, there is Les. I'm not old enough to remember him in his pomp, but Dad's eyes still mist over when he talks about him. We met him a couple of years before he died at the County Ground and it was the nearest I've seen my Dad to being tongue-tied in the presence of his hero. I still treasure a letter I got from him a few years earlier, when I wrote with a question, more in hope than expectation of an answer. Yet a reply was prompt, polite and much appreciated.

His figures speak for themselves. 1733 wickets at 17, twenty times taking ten in a match, 115 times taking five in an innings. You could talk for ten minutes about his greatest feats and not repeat yourself, but suffice to say that he was incomparable as a Derbyshire bowler.. He might have made it as an international too, but the powers-that-be decided that Les wasn't good enough, his action not aesthetically pleasing enough, for England, something that contradicted the opinion of the batsmen that faced him over fifteen years. Not bad for someone who was 26 before playing county cricket...

When they eventually brought him back in 1961, fourteen years after his one previous Test and at the age of 40, he let no one down. It is ironic that the Australians looked for his name in every England squad and were continually astonished that he was overlooked. Donald Bradman considered him the best bowler they faced in 1948, something that makes his subsequent omissions all the more startling. Les simply carried on bruising the ribs and fingers of batsmen year after year, as well as getting them out. In 1958 he took 143 wickets at under eleven runs each, despite cutting down his pace because of a bad groin injury, the sort that would have seen most men out for weeks.

Such things were of little consequence to him. Donald Carr once recounted, after finding Les in the dressing room with his sock and boot a mess of blood and pus from burst blisters, that he asked why he hadn't said something. Les simply shrugged. "You asked me to bowl skipper, so I bowled". Could any captain want for more from a bowler? When asked how he obtained such extravagant lift and movement he was typically modest. "I just wrap my fingers around the ball and bugger about with it until something happens". It usually did.

I saw him play only once, at Queens Park for a match between a Derbyshire XI and the International Cavaliers in September 1968, one of the games that were a precursor to the John Player Sunday League that started the following year. In the opposition were Geoff Boycott, Barry Richards, Ted Dexter, Mike Smith and Fred Goldstein, a South African opener who hit the ball with real power and played for Oxford University and Northamptonshire for a while. It was serious opposition - and Les was 47 years old and had been retired for five years.

He had Boycott and Goldstein lbw and finished with 9-1-19-2. Not bad for an old timer, but no real surprise.

In the context of Derbyshire cricket, Les was one of the golden greats.

Book Review: The Promise of Endless Summer - Cricket Lives from the Daily Telegraph edited by Martin Smith

I've always thought of obituaries in much the same way as funerals. When the person writing or speaking knew the subject, they tend to be more sincere, worthwhile and pertinent than when they are basing their words on second or third hand information.

As the editor, Martin Smith, points out in his foreword to this book, obituary notices until the mid-1980s were largely staid and dry, in the fashion of the times. You got a brief resume of the major career milestones and facts about the subject, but little that put flesh onto the bones as a good writer can do so well.

This collection of obituary notices from the pages of the Daily Telegraph is of cricketers who died from the start of that more descriptive period to the modern day and it is as fine a collection of writers and styles as you could wish for, Michael Henderson, Scyld Berry, E.W.Swanton, Tony Lewis, Simon Hughes and Michael Parkinson are all here, the writing almost - and that's quite a feat - as good as the cricket of their subjects.

All but one is effusive in its praise of the talents of the players concerned, the exception being Simon Hughes' piece on Sylvester Clarke, who he describes as the 'fastest, nastiest fast bowler who ever lived' and goes on to explain why. I suppose anyone who leaves you 'two millimetres of man-made fibre from death' has that kind of effect on you.

It is fine writing though, as is John Major's appreciation of Denis Compton, 'an Olympian of cricket'. There are numerous fine stories and the subjects are some of the greatest players and characters to set foot on a cricket ground, together with some of its finest characters. Perhaps the latter have the greater charm, such as reading how Bryan 'Bomber' Wells once bowled an over in the time it took the Worcester Cathedral clock to strike 12. When told by his captain that he was making the game look ridiculous and ordered to start his run from eight paces, rather than two, he did - but bowled the ball - on a length, mind - from well behind the stumps after taking only two...

Mark Nicholas' piece on Malcolm Marshall is a joy, the former Hampshire captain recounting how wicket-keeper Bobby Parks stood 31 paces back to him one day at Portsmouth, while Derbyshire fans will especially enjoy the piece on Eddie Barlow, who Charles Fortune once described as 'running up to bowl, looking like an unmade bed'. Those who saw 'Bunter' in action will enjoy that description as much as I did.

There is also an obituary for Derbyshire legend Les Jackson, who Donald Bradman felt one of the best bowlers he had faced in 1948, yet scandalously played only two Test matches in the next 13 years. His thirteen-pace run may have ended in a round-arm sling, but it took hundreds of wickets and saw him considered, in the words of Tom Graveney, 'the best bloody bowler in the country'.

In a book of such memorable writing, it could have been hard to have a favourite, but the inclusion of Michael Parkinson's outstanding piece on the former Derbyshire all-rounder George Pope makes this an easy decision for me. For years I had the press-cutting in a folder and now it serves as the concluding piece in a remarkable collection of writing.

Emphasising  my opening comments about the best writing coming from those who knew the subject, the Yorkshire broadcaster produced three pages of golden text about 'a man who a generation of cricketers will testify was the best bowler they ever faced'.

'I could bowl out England on this track' he would tell his league team, before going out with them to to take another six, seven or eight wickets with a bamboozling array of inswing, outswing, off-cutters and leg-cutters. A 'master of his craft' indeed.

Quite a character and bowler, George Pope, and quite a remarkable book. Aurum Press deserve every success with it and it should be a fixture on the bedside or coffee table of every cricket fan. Thanks to Jessica for the special offer for blog readers, which I would heartily recommend you take up.

The Promise of Endless Summer: Cricket Lives from the Daily Telegraph is published by Aurum Press.
  
To order a copy (9781781310489) for £11.99 including p&p, telephone 01903 828503 or email mailorders@lbsltd.co.uk, and quote offer code AUR349. Alternatively, send a cheque made payable to: Littlehampton Book Services Mail Order Department, Littlehampton Book Services, PO Box 4264, Worthing, West Sussex BN13 3RB. Please quote the offer code AUR349 and include your name and address details. 
*UK ONLY - Please add £2.50 if ordering from overseas

J is indeed for Jackson...

Nice to see Nathan Fearn resurrecting the A-Z of Derbyshire cricketers again after a lengthy absence on the club site. As I said when he started it, I had no intentions of pre-empting his choices, as it was his idea, but I would give you an alternative view. I'll also admit to being the supporter named in the article, having mailed him about something after Christmas, although the vigilante group would have been my Dad and I, small but select, and it was a joke, just in case anyone sees me in a Vinny Jones role...

I've not always agreed with Nathan's choices, as regular readers will know, but you can't argue with the selection of Les Jackson. Indeed, if you asked every Derbyshire member to name a greatest ever XI, I find it hard to believe anyone would omit him.

Of course, there were other good candidates among the J's. His namesake Brian, who followed him into the Derbyshire side from league cricket, was himself a very good bowler, making up an outstanding opening attack with Harold Rhodes for a few seasons. There was also GR Jackson, a determined batsman and a good captain who was largely responsible for bringing together the players in the 1936 Championship side.

Then there was Laurie Johnson, arguably the most entertaining batsman in the side from the early 1950s to mid-1960s. Born and brought up in the Caribbean, Johnson brought a range of untypical shots to the Derbyshire side in that period, all flowing drives and rapier cuts. His average may not have matched his talent, but Johnson was, by all accounts, a fine player to watch on the often rain-affected tracks that he and his generation played on.

Nor should we overlook the sterling efforts of Steffan Jones, nor the one season of brilliance that we saw from Dean Jones, a contender for the most complete all-round batsman we have seen at the club. Jones could dig in when the situation demanded, display all the shots anyone could need and run like a whippet between wickets. Without doubt he was the best pacer and finisher of an innings I have seen in the club colours and he took the club closer to the Championship  than anyone else in recent memory as an ebullient captain who sadly managed to polarise a dressing room full of strong characters.

Yet, at the end of it all, there is Les. I'm not old enough to remember him in his pomp, but Dad's eyes still mist over when he talks about him. We met him a couple of years before he died at the County Ground and it was the nearest I've seen my Dad to being tongue-tied in the presence of his hero. I still treasure a letter I got from him a few years earlier, when I wrote with a question, more in hope than expectation. Yet a reply was prompt, polite and appreciated.

His figures speak for themselves. 1670 wickets at 17, twenty times taking ten in a match. You could talk for five minutes about his greatest feats and not repeat yourself, but suffice to say that he was incomparable as a Derbyshire bowler.. He might have made it as an international too, but the powers-that-be decided that Les wasn't good enough for England, something that contradicted the opinion of the batsmen that faced him over fifteen years. When they brought him back in 1961, fourteen years after his one previous Test and at the age of 40, he let no one down. It is ironic that the Australians looked for his name in every England squad and were continually astonished that he was overlooked. Les simply carried on, bruising the ribs and fingers of batsmen year after year, as well as getting them out. In 1959 he took 140 wickets despite cutting down his pace because of a bad groin injury, the sort that would have seen most men out for weeks.

Such things were of little consequence to him. Donald Carr once recounted, after finding Les in the dressing room with his sock and boot a mess of blood and pus from burst blisters, that he asked why he hadn't said something. Les simply shrugged. "You asked me to bowl skipper, so I bowled". Could any captain want for more from a bowler? When asked how he obtained such extravagant lift and movement he was typically modest. "I just wrap my fingers round the ball and bugger about with it until something happens". It usually did.

I saw him once, at Queens Park for a match between a Derbyshire XI and the International Cavaliers in September 1968, one of the games that were a precursor to the John Player Sunday League that started the following year. In the opposition were Geoff Boycott, Barry Richards, Ted Dexter, Mike Smith and Fred Goldstein, a South African opener who hit the ball with real power and played for Northamptonshire for a while. Serious opposition - and Les was 47 years old and had been retired for five years.

He had Boycott and Goldstein lbw and finished with 9-1-19-2. Not bad for an old timer, but it was no real surprise. In the context of Derbyshire cricket, Les was one of the golden greats.

Legendary match

So, its raining at Worcester, typical. Just when we were well set for a last day victory charge to knock off the required 404...

Never mind, we'll await developments as the day progresses and look forward - or more accurately back - at our next fixture, a home game against Middlesex. We had a good game against them at Lords and probably should have done better than we did, a poor last day bowling performance letting them win a fairly close game.

We'd all settle for a repeat of the game between the two sides that took place in July 1957, a year in which we finished fourth but at one point won six successive matches to surge to the top of the table. A feature of this run was the fact that the side was able to remain unchanged and although a defeat at Edgbaston ended it and signalled a slump in form, they were in good heart when the southern county visited Chesterfield on July 17th.

The first day was curtailed by the weather but Middlesex limped along to 74-4 by the end of the day in conditions that suited our attack. Headed by the legendary Cliif Gladwin and Les Jackson, all rounder Derek Morgan was a fine first change bowler while Edwin Smith's cannyoff spin offered variation. Middlesex had no Denis Compton, but Jack Robertson and Bill Edrich were still in a strong batting line up, as were future England players Fred Titmus and wicket keeper John Murray.

The following day (Thursday) the remaining batsmen had little offer against Gladwin and they were all out for just 102, Cliff bowling 25 overs and taking 6-23. There were also two wickets each for Smith and Morgan, Jackson unusually going wicket-less.

Derbyshire also struggled on a lively wicket that suffered the effects of rain. Charlie Lee and John Kelly added 41 for the second wicket and George Dawkes and Morgan a very valuable 50 stand for the seventh, but few batsmen got established and Lee's 33 was top score in a total of 153.

A deficit of 51 on first innings against the Derbyshire attack on that wicket would have worried Middlesex, but they could have had no idea what was to follow when they began their second innings just after 6pm. Jackson removed the prolific Jack Robertson leg before wicket in the first over before Gladwin took over. After a single had got the scoreboard moving, he bowled Baldry then had the dogged Edrich and Titmus held in his leg-trap without further score. Middlesex were 1-4...

Gale and Delisle battled to take the score up to 9 and hoped to make it through to stumps but the former was caught behind from Gladwin's bowling and then Cliff held a caught and bowled to remove Murray immediately to leave the score on 9-6 with his tally being five wickets. His first three overs had seen figures of 3-3-0-3. Even regulars, used to their bowling, had seen little like this. Extra time was claimed to claim a 2-day win but the rain returned and Middlesex went back to their hotel with a score of 11-6. Gladwin's figures at this stage were 5 wickets for 5 runs and 10-17 in the day.

The next morning Jackson removed Delisle, clean bowled and then had Tilly lbw to leave the score 13-8. Hurst came in and was promptly run out (probably trying to keep away from the bowling!) and Middesex were 13-9. Don Bennett, later a coach at Lords, battled his way to an unbeaten 14 and became the only Middlesex batsman to make double figures in each innings before Derek Morgan had last man Alan Moss caught by Arnold Hamer to leave the visitors all out for 29 and Derbyshire winners by an innings and 22.

Most good judges felt that had their innings continued on the Thursday evening they would not have made 20, but Gladwin had second innings figures of 14-8-18-5 and Jackson had 11-6-7-3.

Today with covered wickets such tracks are unknown, but so are the skills for both batting and bowling on them. When the wicket "flies" there is a tendency to bowl short, but Jackson and Gladwin knew the length alright.

An interesting aside to this is that the two innings for Middlesex lasted 97 overs, with the only extras being four first innings byes and two second innings leg byes. Not a no ball or wide in sight, in stark contrast to Worcester the other day. There's a lot to be learned from the old 'uns.

Derbyshire Legends 1 - Les Jackson (1921-2007)

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