New Balls Please

Fifty years ago the great fast bowling partnership of Lillee and Thomson didn't just threaten your health, but your manhood....

Going, going, gone. Bumble struck ‘admidships’ by Jeff Thomson, Perth 1974

It is said it is a fate worse than death. It is not as good as that. Being hit in the nuts by a cricket ball travelling at 90mph is the most excruciating possible experience for a man. When you break a bone the pain is often numbed by the body’s adrenaline response kicking in (perhaps in my case I was also helped by being in two feet of snow in the Alps.) The pain of a bad gash subsides after a while. But being hit in the goolies, or the gonads, or ‘amidships’ as it used to be politely referred to, is horrific.

It is an agony that sends juddering, oscillating fire irons through your loins – repetitively for hours - as if your balls are being soldered, turns your legs to jelly and your head to mush. It penetrates your soul. You truly start to wonder if this is the day you have become a eunuch. (Apologies to any women reading this as I acknowledge that childbirth is probably worse, but at least you’re semi prepared for it and there’s a reward for your labours, so to speak.)

So this was the fate that befell David Bumble Lloyd fifty years ago this weekend (15 December, 1974 to be exact.) Many of you will have heard the tale – Bumble does a brilliant after-dinner rendition of it, much to the chagrin of the culprit – Jeff Thomson – who claims he “hasn’t made a cent” out of it. And Bumble regales it beautifully in the second episode of our special Analyst podcast series – HEADHUNTERS– looking back at that harrowing 1974/5 Ashes contest.

“I think that the radio commentators would say he was struck in the groin. Well I wish I had have been. It missed me groin by about three inches and it was bullseye, full in. And all I had as protection was a pink Litesome box - this little plastic bit of pink stuff with holes in it like a little soap dish they probably sell in Harrods. When the ball hit me it cracked and the things that should have been inside it, had sort of found their way outside it. And it snapped shut.”

Of course he was helped off the field and given smelling salts (well it was the 1970s) and the only available remedy was to dangle his crown jewels in a bowl of ice-water. The indignity was possibly worse than the pain. He was able to eventually resume his innings after the rest day and battled bravely to 35 in three hours of resistance before being dismissed by Max Walker. Thommo saw off most of the rest, including 41-year-old Colin Cowdrey who’d been summoned from a cosy Christmas at home to face the Australian (chin) music.

Cowdrey had watched the first test on telly back home and got his wife to sew some padding into his shirts. Tony Greig recounted that there was a strange hiss as compressed foam protection was released when he opened his kit bag. It was the first time batters had used extra padding and really paved the way for the fearless-type of batsmanship we enjoy today.

First came arm guards and chest pads and then in Australia in 1977 Dennis Amiss, a survivor of that 74/5 series (and one of our interviewees), pioneered the adaption of a motor cycle helmet to be used for cricket. The helmet has been through many iterations since, and is the chief reason that modern batters have been able to expand their repertoire to include hooking, ramping or sweeping pace bowlers from infront of their face.

The simple box, however, has barely changed. It is still made of hard plastic to fit snugly into tailor-made pants, the successor of the unsightly jock strap, and still gives batters an awful experience if they are hit there. At least as a result of Bumble’s mishap they have got rid of the holes.

To listen to the individual episodes of HeadHunters, CLICK HERE