When An Old Cricketer Leaves The Crease

This morning I read the very sad news of the passing of a man who played a huge part in my life as a teenager. Unless you are a cricket fan or player from the Medway Towns you will not have heard of John Dudgeon, but he had a massive impact on me through the great game. I felt could not let this very sad event go by without paying my own tribute. Some of his team mates knew him for 50 years or more, but even in the two years I was lucky enough to see him on a regular basis he was an incredibly important influence on my life.

I first took charge of a cricket scorebook as an 18 year old in 1983. That was for the Rochester Maths School 1st XI and I took to it like a duck to water. It was an area where I could make a real contribution to a sports team I couldn’t get into through playing talent. My dad drank with John Dudgeon at the Crispin & Crispianus and mentioned my enjoyment of and developing ability at scoring. John said I should come along to the ground where Frindsbury Cricket Club played, the marvellously named Frog’s Island to do the scoring for the Sunday First XI. He offered to pick me up on the Sunday and I agreed instantly. I’d never met John before, but as soon as I got in the car he put me completely at ease asking about the Maths School side which included a couple of young Frindsbury players. When we got to the ground, he introduced me to the team and said how pleased he was that they’d finally have a regular scorer. The nervousness I was feeling was lessened significantly by John, and his kindness and inclusive approach to everyone, whatever their role, was a quality I saw again and again during my two years with the club. That first match saw some good batting from a number of players, but Dudge, as pretty much everyone called him, was a cut above. He had class, timing and that sprinkling of magic that separates the great from the very good. His batting was magical to watch and, more than anyone else in that team, I watched him as a fan that afternoon and every afternoon I was lucky enough to see him in full flow. In the image below, John is in the middle of the front row and I am on the right at the end of the back row.

I found out later that he played for the Kent County Cricket Club 2nd XI as a teenager and was offered a contract by them. Back in those days he could get more money in his job working for Post Office Telephones, so he chose to stay with them and played his club cricket for Frindsbury for the next three decades or more. When he told me the story there was no regret, just an acceptance that his life was focused on club cricket rather than county cricket. He said he’d probably have done OK. Other players, who played with and against him, said he would have done much more than OK, and I think they were correct. That said, he spent three decades enjoying his cricket as a colossus in the Medway Towns club cricket scene and beyond. There are any number of stories I could tell about Dudge but I want to share three that, to me, get to the essence of John on and off the cricket pitch.

The first was one of my most stressful days as a scorer and he was central to the action. He had been out to a club the night (and morning) before the game and he was incredibly hungover when he arrived at the ground. We batted first and an early clatter of wickets brought him to the crease and, by his own admission, he could barely see the ball for the first half hour! My fellow scorer was a French woman (!) and she was very vocal in support of her team. When Dudge was scratching around for the first half hour she got increasingly impatient and started slow handclapping him! I was outraged, called her a disgrace to the scorer’s profession and refused to sit next to her for the rest of the game! I had the last laugh as Dudge’s hangover cleared and he started sending the ball to all parts with his more accustomed style. When he reached 50 I got up and gave him a standing ovation as well as telling the French woman very loudly that he’d got a half century! Dudge always had a great sense of humour and he was laughing very heartily when my teammates told him about my hissy fit! Then he came up to me and very quietly said that although he understood my reaction I should always remember the spirit cricket should be played in. He was, of course, absolutely right.

The second was in a game where he was approaching a century. He was a couple of runs short and he looked as though he was going to leave a delivery, before, at the last moment, hitting the ball up in the air and ambling through for a single. It was with a sense of relief that I saw the umpire’s arm outstretched to signal a no ball, a no ball he reacted to faster than anyone else I’ve ever seen and he duly completed his century in the next over. That speed and clarity of thought was central to his success . He had that almost supernatural awareness that the true greats in any sport possess and that small moment just summed it up for me. Thanks to the magic of the internet here is the report in the paper of that very match. My final job of the day when I was in charge of the scorebook was to send a report through to the paper and the opportunity to mark three different landmarks for Dudge was fantastic for me.

The third moment wasn’t even in a game. The team were hitting catches into the outfield during a practice session calling out the name of the catcher as they hit it. The younger players had grown up with Dudge, quite literally in some cases, and he valued his role as a kind of older statesman, but he still had that steely competitiveness that made him such a great performer on the cricket field batting, bowling or fielding. He was standing at midwicket on the boundary and the young batter decided to take the mickey by calling his name then hitting the ball towards the sightscreen behind the stumps. Most players would probably have laughed and refused to go for it but Dudge’s competitiveness kicked in and he ran full pelt round a quarter of the ground and plucked the ball out of the air one handed just in front of the sightscreen. He then turned to the batter and gave a wide grin! No more needed to be said and to this day, it’s still to my mind the finest catch I’ve ever seen.

John was one of the finest cricketers I have ever seen in the club or professional game, but more than that he was one of the finest human beings it’s been my privilege to meet. Two otherwise difficult years in my late teens were made so much better by getting to know John off the pitch and to watch him on the pitch. He was generous with his time and money and ever encouraging to me as a scorer and as a somewhat lost and confused young person. I consider it one of the privileges of my life to have been in his company for even that short a time and the lessons of sportsmanship and how to live life are one I’ve never forgotten. I last saw John when he celebrated his 80th birthday at the ground. He was still the same and when we started chatting it was like old times. I was very glad to have the chance to tell him how much he meant to me and when I looked across the ground after the match it was his batting that was at the forefront of my mind. Just over a month ago the Frindsbury Cricket Club pavilion was renamed the John Dudgeon Pavilion and it is so fitting that he was there to see it happen. Rest in Peace John and thank you for everything.

Photos and scorecards from Cricket Memories (Medway and Swale) page run by Lance Morgan https://www.facebook.com/groups/1072464656458133/