John G. Lever (G 63-67) writes about 'The Magic Game'.

“I arrived at St Bees for the autumn term of 1963 in Meadow House, my way having been paved by my older brother. Under the auspices of the venerable Philip and Molly Lever, I was titled Little Lever, my older brother being under Mr Coates down at Grindal House. Unfortunately, the name was to stick, but of course it did not help that I was five foot nothing, if that, and rugby would always be a challenge throughout my short career.

I did however bring some sporting ability to the party as I could play a splendid game of fives, but more importantly, I was a cricketer.

My prep school Headmaster had been an accomplished slow left arm spin bowler who could turn a ball. He taught me all he could because I too was left handed. It was a rare skill.

And so cricket became my preferred game at St Bees and by the time I was sixteen, I could be expected to be given a spin before lunch for the first eleven, bowling from the Chapel end at whatever opposition was presented. I could also be asked to turn out for the masters in their evening games, education always being second to sporting ability!

Jack Holroyd our Head Groundsman was the man. Not only could he present a pitch but with his ankle length white coat, his trilby and his pipe, he was a formidable umpire. He had cut his spinning skills in the Lancashire League.

I had played for Cumberland at colts level and obtained my school colts colours before half term, usually playing on a pretty ordinary pitch somewhere near Eaglesfield where we played rugby for most of the year!

Of course Peter ‘Butch’ Broadhurst, our Director of Cricket, was really the man in charge and he could give the opposition out as soon as look at them. Team selection was his strength and it was so important that your face fitted. I do not remember his bowling much and he swung the bat like a blacksmith, but then of course his other love was his metal workshop.
Away matches were our forte as we had to leave, usually on Thursday, after an early lunch to arrive for a two-day game after a tortuous coach journey (or even a plane journey from Carlisle if to King William’s College in the Isle of Man) and back on Sunday night after a couple of a quick pints in Keswick, but only if we had won, otherwise it was a dry ship with Butch in a filthy temper and everybody feeling sick. Jack’s pipe to blame.

Cricket on the crease was always second fiddle to rugby. We all watched the rugby, compulsory of course, especially if the opposition was Sedbergh or Durham. The cricket audience was more fickle and the school scattered to whatever mischief they could get up to, wherever.

They were, however, happy days! But that reminds me - sometimes we had to come off as a mist suddenly fell over the cricket ground though we had appeared to be under perfect unremitting blues skies. It was condensation pouring from the twin cooling towers at the Nuclear plant at Sellafield. I presume we all survived, I am still here to tell the tale.

Sadly I never got my cricket colours, that fantastic striped blazer, as I departed St Bees after Lower Sixth, but they were great times. Jack and Butch set me on a course to a lifetime of enjoyment watching the game all over the world. It cannot just be taught, it has to be a gift, a love affair with a red leather ball and a piece of willow.

To Jack Holroyd and Peter Broadhurst thank you. It was all great fun.

My thoughts in retrospect of St Bees are being in the beautiful Lakes, so far from reality in many ways, the days were to be enjoyed, as long as you were not found out.

P.S. An anecdote of life in Meadow House on the housekeeping front from Philip Lever, housemaster, after evening prayers, 'Boys, we are not half way through this term and we have used three quarters of the lavatory paper allocation. May I advise you that one sheet is adequate, two sheets are plenty and three sheets are down right stealing!' ”

 

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St Bees School,    St Bees,    Cumbria,    CA27 0DS.

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