He is, famously, the only man ever to be picked for England while not playing first-class cricket – that is, while only playing Minor Counties
The relatively scarce appearances in county cricket (just 44 games) were more the product of his own economic hard-headedness and prevailing market forces than any lack of opportunity. Warwickshire had been reluctant to offer him a contract despite impressive results in the Birmingham League as a teenager, so, in an era of dilettantish amateurism, this son of a Black Country metal-beater decided he would become a professional bowler, wherever the highest bid took him. A living had to be earned; all other rewards would come or go as they may. And for all that the alluring tug of nostalgia causes us to see the past as some sort of innocent cricketing Arcadia (where in fact there was a game run as much for the sake of gambling as the playing), so it is that Barnes was the epitome of a deeply un-romantic view of the game – just as were the likes of WG Grace and William Clarke before him, and are various T20 mercenaries today – a man with a keen sense of his own value as cricketer and commercial attraction. If you paid, he bowled. And he sure did some bowling, playing league cricket up and down the country – in his native Staffordshire (Smethwick, Porthill Park), the Bradford League (Saltaire, Keighley) and the Lancashire Leagues (Rishton, Burnley, Church, Rawtenstall, Rochdale, Castleton Moor) – while of course enjoying a long career for Staffordshire, for whom he took the small matter of 1441 wickets at 8.10 each, on the way bagging 26 of the 30 best innings analyses for the county.
As for the man, he was, by all accounts, a remote and cussed
soul off the field and temperamental on it, where he was remorselessly and near-monomaniacally driven in
the pursuit of wickets and sharp-tongued toward captains who placed unnecessary
obstacles in the way. Cardus said that “a chill wind of antagonism
blew from him even on the sunniest day,” and his slightly pitted eyes, prominent brow, and cheekbones like onions no doubt added to his severe, forbidding aura. Yet beyond
his lack of affability and general disdain for social niceties, what was it that made
him such a fearsome proposition, so good that he not only made Cricinfo’s
all-time England XI* but also Richie Benaud’s Greatest XI**?
Standing an inch over six feet and with long arms, Arlott noted
that his “high delivery gave him a lift off the pitch that rapped the knuckles
of the unwary and forced even the best batsmen to play him at an awkward height”.
In addition, his large hands and spidery fingers gave him the purchase on the
ball that, in conjunction with his industrial accuracy, often made facing him a
question of when, not if… Most intriguingly, his style of bowling has been described, variously, as cutters, medium-pace, fast-medium, fast spin, even leg-spin.
Consensus is that it was all of this, with the leg-cutter his stock ball, mixed
with fast off-breaks, in-and out-swingers and constant, subtle changes of pace.
Want to judge for yourself? Well, if you have never seen the great man bowl then fire up your imagination and draw what you can from this short clip.
Want to judge for yourself? Well, if you have never seen the great man bowl then fire up your imagination and draw what you can from this short clip.
It is moot just how effective he’d have been on covered
pitches; certainly, one imagines he’d have been a revelation in limited
overs cricket, with batters having to attack him, like a turbo-charged hybrid of CZ Harris, Ajantha Mendis and
latter-era SM Pollock. And whatever it was he bowled, exactly, there is no doubting he
was a genius, a freakishly consistent wicket machine whose final balance sheet
showed no fewer than 6225 wickets in all forms of cricket at the puny average
of 8.31.
* Hobbs ,
Hutton, Hammond , Barrington
** Hobbs
