Brian Statham, who died in June 2000, was one of England’s greatest fast bowlers and a giant of Lancashire cricket. His Wisden obituary considered his place in history.
Statham, John Brian, CBE, died on June 10, 2000, aged 69. His obituary appeared in the 2001 Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack
Brian Statham was one of the best of all English fast bowlers, and beyond question the best-liked. A gentle man who had to be persuaded to bowl a bouncer, he was a mainstay of the England team in its vintage period between 1951 and 1963: he took 252 wickets in 70 Tests.
His name will be forever coupled with that of Freddie Trueman, though they actually played together in only half his Tests. Statham’s name always came second because he was the foil to Trueman’s sabre – and the more reticent man. In cricketing folklore he is remembered primarily for his accuracy: “If they miss, I hit,” he would say. This diminishes his astonishing skill.
He was indeed accurate; so are many fast-medium bowlers. Statham kept his line and length at a very high pace indeed, comparable with all but the very fastest of Test match bowlers. A batsman hit by Statham – even on the foot, which was more likely than the head – knew all about it. In Statham’s case the area around off stump was more a corridor of certainty than uncertainty, but if the ball hit the seam it jagged back in very sharply. The results were always formidable, and occasionally devastating.
It was a happy ship, though: “Fewer jollier bands have ever laughed and sung their way through the shires,” said Derek Hodgson, who travelled with them for the Daily Express. In 1967 Statham passed Johnny Briggs to become Lancashire’s leading wicket-taker, and he added 69 more in his last season, 1968. In all first-class cricket, he took 2,260 wickets, putting him 19th on the all-time list. But his average of 16.37 is the best of the top 20 wicket-takers and beaten only by Briggs – who bowled on the primitive pitches of the 19th century – among the top 30.
His methods remain a matter of some debate. His action was certainly too chest-on to be accepted as classical. He swung the ball only rarely, and perhaps never by design. Part of the secret seems to have been that Statham was not merely supple but double-jointed. “He could put his right arm round his face and touch his right ear and do the same with his left arm and his left ear at the same time,” said an admiring Geoff Pullar. He was certainly an impressive athlete: a beautiful outfielder and an occasionally effective left-handed tailender.
His bowling quality was never in dispute. Nor was his character: he had an enchantingly easy-going temperament. “I only saw him lose his rag twice,” said Pullar, his Lancashire and England team-mate. “Both times he was certain they had gloved a catch. One was Easton McMorris in the West Indies – he hit him on the chest and made him spit blood. The other was ‘Pom-Pom’ Fellows- Smith, and he knocked his cap off.” Even the accuracy seems to have been a reflection of his temperament: “I’m not going to run in 30 yards and watch a batsman shoulder arms,” Statham once said. “It’s a waste of energy.”
Despite his huge popularity, his life after cricket was a difficult one. He was employed by Guinness to go round pubs and clubs – more celebrity PR than selling. But after the company was taken over, a stern new management tried to force timetables and paperwork on him, and Statham’s life was made intolerable.
He became ill and in 1989 his financial plight was such that his friend Trueman organised some benefit dinners for him. More than 1,000 turned up at the Grosvenor House in London. He was a cricketer who engendered admiration and affection from both those who saw him from a distance, and those who knew him best. “I knew him for 50 years and we never had a wrong word,” said Trueman.
