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...

Tonkers galore...

Loots Bosman's assault on the Yorkshire bowling at Headingley on Thursday evening has been rightly lauded by eye witnesses on the club site. If that standard continues, fans are in for a rich summer of entertainment.

To be fair, the county haven't an especially long history of big hitters. Counties like Somerset can cite such luminaries as Arthur Wellard and Harold Gimblett in their past, whereas Derbyshire's batsmen, perhaps because of the nature of the wickets in the county, have tended to be more functional than flashy.

Before the Second World War, Les Townsend and George Pope were probably the two best hitters in the side, the former being especially fond of hitting the bowlers back over their head, whereas George favoured the mid wicket area. After the war, Pat Vaulkhard, who played all too infrequently, could hit the ball cleanly, as did Arnold Hamer, though Hamer was not a prolific hitter of sixes.

On occasion every batsman has his day, of course. I remember watching David Smith, a dour and dogged left hander for most of his career, taking Derek Shackleton apart at Ilkeston in 1970, clumping him over mid wicket time after time, a feat all the more noteworthy because:

A) It was Shackleton, who very rarely got hit by anyone and
B) Because Smith rarely played an attacking stroke if a defensive one would do.

Most of the Derbyshire batsmen of my early experience were what my Dad calls "nudge and fudgers," at least until Chris Wilkins arrived in 1970. Their runs were normally acquired with glances, glides and dabs, rather than with full-blooded strokeplay - we could call them accumulators.

I've written about Wilkins before and at length, but the South African, though not a classic batsman, gave the ball a real hit. In 1970 he was close to the season's six-hitting prize, run by a Sunday newspaper and offered great entertainment in his three years at the club. I saw him hit one out of the ground at Buxton, and into the boating lake at Chesterfield on the full. Although he became more restrained as the years passed, books and newspapers were put down and trips to the toilet were postponed when he walked to the wicket. If the first ball was in his arc it would go back over the bowler's head and while he could be undone by movement, there were enough good days to make him memorable. Like Bosman, he arrived as an opening batsman but struggled until moved down to number four, where he played a number of punishing innings, punctuated with what are now called "maximums."

Since then we have had far more attacking batsmen, many of them from overseas, though few were especially known for their six-hitting prowess. Mohammad Azharuddin hit quite a few in Sunday League matches, though my abiding memory of Azha was his wristy strength off his legs and with the cut. Peter Kirsten also hit a few, but was again more a conventional stroke player than a hitter. Shahid Afridi could also hit, but his good days for Derbyshire had the frequency of June snow at Buxton...

For me, the only genuine contender to Wilkins and Bosman as a hitter was, as David Griffin mentions on the club site, Adrian Kuiper. Kuiper was a far from classic batsman and was not in the same league as people like Dean Jones, John Wright or even Lawrence Rowe, but he could really hit a cricket ball.

Sadly, Wilkins and Kuiper never played twenty over cricket, a format for which they would have been well-suited. Both were good fielders, both bowled useful, if not outstanding medium pace, but both gave anything that was in their half of the wicket a fearful whack. I would have them in my fantasy Derbyshire T20 side without a second thought.

However, I am prepared to concede that, for a destructive hitter, Bosman has to take some beating. His first class record is modest - Bosman is one of only a handful of players who have a better T20 record than first class - but his style is eminently well suited to the format and John Morris has done very well to bring such a crowd-puller to the County Ground.

Enjoy him, while it lasts.