The Day I met Basil D’Oliveira
The Morning Session
On Monday 19th of August 1991, Surrey began the third and final day of this County Championship match on 132-2 in their second innings – still 84 runs behind having conceded a huge first innings deficit.
A batting line-up featuring Darren Bicknell, Alec Stewart and Graham Thorpe had been bowled out for just 185 on the first day thanks largely to a five wicket haul from a man named Ian Botham. In reply Worcester declared on 401-9 after big scores from Graeme Hick (145), Tim Curtis (98) and that man Botham again (61).
There was nothing unusual about the fact that the Worcestershire team of the early 90s were dominating a match, but there was something different about that Monday in August because in the crowd, a hundred miles from home and attending his first ever live County Cricket match, was a twelve-year-old Keiwit. I was already a huge Worcestershire fan by this time and Keiwit Senior had been invited to watch the day’s play (corporate hospitality). Since it was the school holidays I begged to be allowed to tag along.
So while my dad went off to meet his work people in another part of the ground I took my seat on the long-on boundary behind Graham Dilley’s famous angled run up. Dilley, a hero of mine since I first watched the highlights video of Botham’s Ashes, took the first wicket of the day as Worcestershire set about trying to wrap up the Surrey innings.
It was a quiet morning session; the Surrey batsmen dug in and challenged the bowlers to break them down. I went for a wander to explore the ground and ate a half-melted Kitkat from my Watford FC lunchbox but otherwise I hardly took my eyes off the cricket. It was going to be a very good day.
At the lunch interval all the kids, including me, poured onto the outfield and impromptu cricket games started up at every point on the boundary. I remember taking a routine catch to end the innings of a small girl but otherwise all aspects of my performance have been lost in the passing of time.
The Afternoon Session
At some point during the afternoon, I’m not exactly sure when, my dad made his way over to see me. He had in his hand a small, cream-coloured card which he told me to fasten onto my clothing. The card had gold lettering and I know exactly what it said because it’s on the table next to me:
I gathered my belongings and followed him to the far side of the ground, past the pavilion and into the Members Enclosure. At the entrance to the marquee a security man checked my little card and once we were allowed in my dad led me to a table where a group of men were sitting. One of the men was introduced to me as Basil D’Oliveira.WORCESTERSHIREC. C. C.19 GUEST 91MARQUEEDATE. 19 AUG 1991
Now, at that time I knew that England didn’t play cricket against South Africa and I knew it was something to do with skin colour. But I didn’t know the background to it and I had no idea of the extent to which it involved the smiling gentleman sitting in front of me. (If you don’t already know about the cancelled tour of 1968, the selection controversy involving Tom Cartwright and the anti-apartheid demonstrations then there are many better places to read about them than here.)
In fact, at that exact moment if you’d asked me what I knew about Basil D’Oliveira I would most likely have replied that he was the father of Worcestershire batsman Damian D’Oliveira.
Anyway, in brief: unable to play first class cricket in his native South Africa Basil D’Oliveira came over to England with the help of journalist John Arlott in 1960 and quickly made a success of it. He went on to play 41 Tests for England (the same number as Graham Dilley) and scored five centuries.
D’Oliveira’s birth date is commonly stated as 4th October 1931 meaning he was 35 when he first played for England in 1966. However he has admitted that he lied about his age to improve his chances of playing Test Cricket. He might have actually been 38 or even 40 when he made his debut, almost old enough to play for RUASCC.
He played domestic cricket for Worcestershire and, in later years, became Coach. Then at New Road on the 19th of August 1991 he sat with my dad over lunch and they had a chat. When he learned that I was also at the ground he insisted I was given a pass to the Members Enclosure.
And that’s why I was standing in front of him. He asked if I was enjoying the game, he said he heard I was a Worcestershire supporter and, to my great delight, he gave me a Worcestershire CCC photograph and team sheet signed by all the players. It was, as my 12-year-old self might have said, “The Best Thing Ever”.
And then just when I thought it couldn’t get any better he said we should help ourselves to the scones.
Meanwhile, there was still a cricket match going on and Surrey were proving difficult to dislodge; the scorecard tells me that Ian Greig made 72 and Keith Medlycott also scored a fifty. Medlycott later spent a good deal of the evening session fielding on the boundary by the marquee so his was another autograph I collected that day. Sadly he had to retire at the end of the 1991 season aged only 26 but he went on to be a successful coach for Surrey.
The Evening Session
Eventually, after a brief rain delay, Stuart Lampitt picked up his fifth wicket and Surrey were dismissed for 360 leaving Worcestershire a target of 145 in 29 overs – a ridiculously simple task by today’s Twenty20 standards but by no means a foregone conclusion at the time.
The chase began badly – openers Curtis and Bent were both out cheaply – but Hick was in imperious form, belting sixes into the pavilion off none other than Pakistan legend Waqar Younis. My abiding memory of the day is how well Hick batted. On my birthday earlier that year I had been given my first cricket bat – a Graeme Hick “405” bat – and it was such a privilege to watch him play so majestically.
Waqar Younis, evidently unhappy about getting spanked, ripped out the middle order with three quick wickets; the ball that bowled Botham for a duck was so fast I couldn’t even see it. But despite this setback, Worcester charged on and even though Medlycott picked up two late wickets, including Hick for 85, the home side won by three wickets with a little time to spare.
I remember almost nothing after the moment victory was sealed. I imagine we applauded the players off the pitch; I certainly like to think we got the chance to thank Basil D’Oliveira for such a fabulous day before we left the ground. I don’t remember the drive home or much that happened for the rest of the summer.
The signed team sheet took pride of place on my wall. Twenty years on I still have it. It’s rather faded now, I’m afraid, but it still bears the signatures of Graeme Hick, Tom Moody, Ian Botham, Steven Rhodes, Richard Illingworth and many others including most poignantly Graham Dilley and, right there at the bottom, the wonderful Basil D’Oliveira.
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I remember much of this story as if it had happened yesterday, but for assistance with some of the finer details I am very thankful to the creators of this page:
http://stats.thecricketer.com/Scorecards/54/54787.html
