Imagining the ultimate scorecard.

Kipling, R.

Galsworthy, J.

Eliot, T.

Russell, B.

Churchill, W. [Capt]

Golding, W.

Pinter, H.

Lessing, D. 

Naipaul, V.

Ishiguro, K.

Dylan, R.

In this summer sun’s season of cricket and unmown lawns, large novels and sleepy deckchairs, what better than a musing on some of literature’s greats coupled with the majestic game itself? Compiling an England XI from the Nobel prize winners presents an intriguing challenge worthy of Aggers on a TMS interval in play. The selection would have to be for a five-day game I think, no 20-20 sloggers in this lot, and the niggling problems of course would focus on how they would meld as a team; who to open the batting; spin or seam; grit or flair; who to captain; who the playmakers would be. As in all good test teams, there is room for a ‘ringer’, someone who slips between the regulations, who has the panache and the hutzpah to carry it off on the field of play; a breaker of the norms; a crowd pleaser. 

Kipling, Rudyard, an interesting selection given his perhaps sententious comment about “the flannelled fools at the wicket” and prone to uttering gnomic statements such as ,“He travels the fastest who travels alone”, which has left many a batsman baffled when trying for a quick single. Previously warned by the umpires for ‘sledging’ from first slip, although he claimed that reciting If was in fact intended as encouragement for a timid opener. A favourite of those in the Long Room at Lords keen to roll back to the glory Empire years (“East is East and West is West”), he combines a jaunty lyrical approach to the game with some shrewd tactical play. A useful lower order bat niggling away at the scoreboard with unorthodox jungle shots.

Galsworthy, John, the quintessential five-day player, in for the very long term and the ideal opener plodding his way towards a big score. Prone to turn everything into a saga or a drama, he is perhaps the Boycott of the side. As he stated, “selection…is the secret of art” and his mastery of shots demonstrates his control of the game’s nuances and his understanding of its intricacies. Feeling that cricket typifies the upper middle class that he despises, he seems anxious to make a statement about them despite wearing his Old Harrovian tie as a belt. With his favourite Soames brand bat, he can be prolific in his scoring. Good for banter in the pavilion, although has been known to bore for Britain when it comes to name-dropping: “Did I tell you about the time that Conrad and I were on a boat…?” 

Eliot, Thomas, maverick and maestro of the side. Nicknamed ‘Macavity’ by the crowds, he loves the allusive and the elusive aspects of the game. Master of the ‘googly’, he can turn a match on its head in an instant with extraordinary skill. On occasions scuttles sideways in his approach run and has an unorthodox, minimalist style in delivery. Some batsmen have claimed to have felt ‘etherised’ by his hypnotic approach, others have made wild accusations that his appeal of ‘shantih’ instead of ‘howzat’ amounts to a form of mystic bullying. Sports well-rolled white flannel trousers and prefers a middle order role as “an attendant” to swell the score rather than the limelight of the openers. Historic niggles between him and Kipling may need to be carefully managed.

Russell, Bertrand, or ‘Numbers’ as he is known, is the brains behind the tactics of the team. Criticised by some for overthinking things, his genius lies in his ability to analyse the opposition’s approach, weaknesses and strengths. Has been known to baffle umpires and officials alike with his famous paradox that a batsman can be both in and out at the same time, or perhaps not in and not out. His speed and agility behind the stumps (as well as his uncanny ability to anticipate the ball’s trajectory) make him essential to the success of the XI. Not a favourite of the Test Board due to his outspoken views on politics, he has been known to regale the team between overs with amusing tales of his sojourn in Brixton prison. 

Churchill, Winston, captain. Cometh the finest hour, cometh the man. Although a little ponderous in his slow right arm spin and perhaps rather too liberal with the interval drinks, clearly the man to rally the troops if things are looking tight. Controversial hand signals have been regarded by some opposition as being unnecessarily provocative, although he has always claimed that he was just asking for “two” when taking guard. Prefers to field at short square leg, where his lack of mobility is off set by his sheer bulk. The whiff of a Cuban ‘Romeo y Julieta’ has been enough to unnerve even the most immovable of batsmen at times. Weighty tomes matched by his own presence and hailed by many as the saviour of many testing matches with punchy one-liners: “The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees opportunity in every difficulty.”

Golding, William, medium pace swing. Inspirational debut, with his first outing leading to a series of steady follow-up scores and a go-to player for the middle order. More than a one-trick pony, his output has been sustained by a series of excellent and unusual approaches to the game. Has a curious almost psychological insight into what needs to be done to survive a situation, although some feel he overthinks things. Turned down the chance of a winter tour of tropical islands, but performs well under leaden skies at home. Regards younger spectators as at best feral and to be avoided at all costs.

Pinter, Harold. Renowned for rather tardy running between the wickets and responsible for more than a few run-outs with his late calls after long silences, much like those that follow an attempt at chat at the bar after a defeat. Popular as captain of his own club Gaieties and keen on occupying the second slip slot to chat with Kipling. Roundly denied ‘watering the wicket at Melbourne’ during a birthday party that went wrong. Much as he tries to emulate his hero Hutton, the score card of his first forays reveal a tendency to flash at the loose ball in a cavalier fashion with three ducks in the first six innings. Favours a lethal Sobranie between innings. Cricket is for him the ultimate God-given drama and Harold one of its ultimate competitors.

Lessing, Doris. Expect the sparks to fly as this lioness of literature prowls the outfield. She should provide an interesting dynamic opposite Kipling as she extols the virtues of radical independence from colonial and post-colonial influences. A fierce competitor, she is particularly relishing the prospect of a Test against her former tormentors from South Africa. A huge influence on women’s participation in the great game, she is sure to draw a large crowd with her majestic stroke play at key moments. The grass may well be singing by the time she has finished with the bowling. More than a match for most men and sure to raise the stakes with her spectacularly outspoken views on racial issues: “What the whites couldn’t stand, ever, was somebody who didn’t think they were wonderful.” Fighting talk indeed.

Naipaul, VS. Will he gel with the team or will his perhaps abrasive stance towards what his captain represents cause a few fireworks in the dressing room? Some have accused him of rambling towards an innings with some disjointed shots, while others, liking the controversial stance born from his upbringing in the Windies, eagerly await his attacking flair. Expect some epic banter between overs as he launches into his favourite topic about what ‘home’ means, but how will Doris respond to his rather louche attitude to women?! His epic statement that “nothing was created in the West Indies” is sure to add fuel to the attacking fire of their pace bowlers, eager to disprove his theory. Galsworthy too may be expected to chip in an observation or two about how VS’s setting in A Bend in the River relies almost entirely on the reader’s familiarity with Conrad’s own perhaps more significant contribution to the scorecard with Heart of Darkness. Exciting times.

Ishiguro, Kazuo. Adds a quiet focused air to proceedings and the ideal nightwatchman if required, where he can draw out the remains of the day to see the team home safely. His citation that his works have “uncovered the abyss beneath our illusory sense of connection with the world” may send a few alarm bells ringing over middle order collapses. Time spent as a grouse beater for the Queen Mother at Balmoral is said to lie behind his athletic skill at picking the right line to field a ball, as well as knowing when to duck! Often heard humming jazz in the outfield (he claims he’s composing for Stacey Kent), he’s the ideal clubhouse partner to Dylan, whose lyrics he finds deeply poetic. 

Dylan, Bob. More baseball than cricket, his unorthodox approach could well pay dividends since setting a field for him is almost impossible. Selected due to his maverick status, there is always the danger that he may not actually show up, adding a certain frisson to the day, but gets the nod due to being “a great poet in the English tradition”. Epic late-night training sessions in the bar may well take their toll, but his eloquence is unbounded. With Moby Dick one of his inspirational novels, he looks the ideal five-day Test character. Where are you from? “It’s not down on any map. True places never are.” A fabulous swing bowler able to make the poetry move in either direction, probing defences and established attitudes.