(with lots of borrowing from Duncan Hamilton).
There's a small, unmarked grave in Yeadon, West Yorkshire. The local council records describe the patch of grass as Section A, Plot no. 241. This is where Edmund 'Ted' Peate is buried. He was a slow left armer, described by Grace as 'the best...of England'. He claimed 1,000 wickets for Yorkshire and England.
But if he's remembered at all, he's remembered for one thing. England were playing Australia at the Oval in 1882. They needed 85 runs to win the Test. It should have been a formality. We'd never before lost to them at home.
W.G. Grace made 32 before England, on 66 for 5, lost four wickets for nine runs. Enter Peate in front of an audience of 20,000. England were on the verge of losing to Australia for the very first time. With 10 runs required, Peate had a simple task - to push the odd single and give the strike to the set batsman, Studd. Instead, he struck his first ball for two and hurried back to keep facing the bowling. Studd, a well-mannered Eton and Cambridge man (so it is said), did not wish to rebuke him and said nothing. In the same over Peate tried a huge slog and was bowled.
One spectator was found dead on the ground: a heart attack.
In the dressing room the captain, A.N. Hornby, asked him why he hadn't left the run-making to Studd. 'I couldn't trust him' came the unrepentant response.
Four days later the Sporting Times published its mock obituary of English cricket - the body to be cremated and the Ashes taken to Australia. Another obituary was found in C.W. Alcock's Cricket Almanak:
SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF ENGLAND'S SUPREMACY IN THE CRICKET-FIELD WHICH EXPIRED ON THE 29TH DAY OF AUGUST, AT THE OVAL: "ITS END WAS PEATE"
Peate drank and ate himself to oblivion. He reached 16 stones, and was sacked from Yorkshire. He died of pneumonia in 1900, leaving nothing to his wife and children, who were saved from the poorhouse though charitable collections only.
It's a tragic tale, of course. And perhaps it made little difference to the series in the long term. But Duncan Hamilton's right - he should be celebrated, not half mocked. Without him there'd be no Ashes and consequently no urn in which to keep them: 'His fatal swish at the ball intensified the rivalry. It was a non-shot which rang across 12,000 miles.'
There's a small, unmarked grave in Yeadon, West Yorkshire. The local council records describe the patch of grass as Section A, Plot no. 241. This is where Edmund 'Ted' Peate is buried. He was a slow left armer, described by Grace as 'the best...of England'. He claimed 1,000 wickets for Yorkshire and England.
But if he's remembered at all, he's remembered for one thing. England were playing Australia at the Oval in 1882. They needed 85 runs to win the Test. It should have been a formality. We'd never before lost to them at home.
W.G. Grace made 32 before England, on 66 for 5, lost four wickets for nine runs. Enter Peate in front of an audience of 20,000. England were on the verge of losing to Australia for the very first time. With 10 runs required, Peate had a simple task - to push the odd single and give the strike to the set batsman, Studd. Instead, he struck his first ball for two and hurried back to keep facing the bowling. Studd, a well-mannered Eton and Cambridge man (so it is said), did not wish to rebuke him and said nothing. In the same over Peate tried a huge slog and was bowled.
One spectator was found dead on the ground: a heart attack.
In the dressing room the captain, A.N. Hornby, asked him why he hadn't left the run-making to Studd. 'I couldn't trust him' came the unrepentant response.
Four days later the Sporting Times published its mock obituary of English cricket - the body to be cremated and the Ashes taken to Australia. Another obituary was found in C.W. Alcock's Cricket Almanak:
SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF ENGLAND'S SUPREMACY IN THE CRICKET-FIELD WHICH EXPIRED ON THE 29TH DAY OF AUGUST, AT THE OVAL: "ITS END WAS PEATE"
Peate drank and ate himself to oblivion. He reached 16 stones, and was sacked from Yorkshire. He died of pneumonia in 1900, leaving nothing to his wife and children, who were saved from the poorhouse though charitable collections only.
It's a tragic tale, of course. And perhaps it made little difference to the series in the long term. But Duncan Hamilton's right - he should be celebrated, not half mocked. Without him there'd be no Ashes and consequently no urn in which to keep them: 'His fatal swish at the ball intensified the rivalry. It was a non-shot which rang across 12,000 miles.'
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