Arlott, Swanton and the Soul of English Cricket

by Stephen Fay, David Kynaston

For more than a quarter of a century after the Second World War, as the BBC tightened its grip on the national consciousness, two of the most famous English voices were commentators on games of cricket. John Arlott and E.W. ('Jim') Swanton transformed the broadcasting of the nation's summer game into a national institution. For any cricket follower in his fifties or older, just the mention of their names immediately evokes a flood of memories.

Swanton was born into a middle-class family and privately educated; Arlott was the son of a working-class council employee, educated at state schools until he left at the age of sixteen. Because of their strong personalities and distinctive voices – Swanton's crisp and upper-class, Arlott's with its Hampshire burr – each had a loyal following in the post-war years, when England's class system had a slot for almost everyone. Within a few minutes of the start of a conversation, it would be possible to identify the speaker as an Arlott or a Swanton man.

Arlott and Swanton never grew to like each other, but both typified the contrasting aspects of post-war Britain and the way both it and the game they loved was to change. As England moved from a class-based to a more egalitarian society, nothing stayed the same – including professional cricket. Wise, lively and filled with rich social and sporting history, Arlott, Swanton and the Soul of English Cricket shows how these two very different men battled to save the soul of the game as it entered a new era.

Genres: History, Sports, Nonfiction

384 pages, Kindle Edition

First published April 19, 2018

Reviews

[Geevee · Rating 4 out of 5]

My connection as a cricket fan of both John Arlott and E.W (Jim) Swanton is slight in that as a young lad in the late 1970s and early 80s I was aware of the former and probably not more than name recognition of the later. They were both "names" mentioned by others in on TV and tabloid papers I read as a kid but beyond Arlott's broadcasting on BBC TV (I had yet to really find Test Match Special on BBC Radio 4 - Radio 1 and Luxemburg were my homes for punk, new wave, 2-Tone, new romantics and more) their histories with and significance to the games was something I was oblivious to.

This well-written and very interesting book not only cements those aspects for this reader but also provides that context around these two men and how they found their ways to top-class cricket, and how they became central to and indeed part of the soul of the game from the 30s thru to the early 80s as active proefessional commentators, journalists, authors and indeed, to use that social media term of today, influencers.

Within the personal stories of both men: Arlott (b 1914) was a working class Hampshire boy and former policeman of wartime blitzed Southampton, and Swanton (b 1907) the middle-class former war-service army officer (who had suffered dreadfully as PoW of the Japaneseon what beacame known as the Death Railway); we discover their early love for cricket as we follow the journeys that lead them to careers in journalism and broadcasting of cricket.

As with any cricket book (indeed sports books) there are descriptions of matches and events. Naturally, these matches and fixtures shaped the cricket world with their results, championships and trophies, and the players of fine world-class ability to those of the more "salt of earth" journeymen. However, these details and events do not overwhelm nor detract from the story. Indeed these provide, alongside the changes in society and technology, the environment these men lived and worked in but also how they saw - and at times disliked - the way the game was changing.

The book's two authors do a good job in highlighting areas of change from the move of the BBC into ball-by-ball radio commentary; the ending of the Gentlemen and Players structure and the struggles of county cricket - lowering attendances and negative balance sheets, even in the 1950s and 60s, which was a surprise to this reader who had thought these were halcyon days where problems were a later difficulty starting in the 1980s and 90s as TV took hold; the use of wicket covers and the slow over rates in the 50s and 60s; to the evil Apartheid system seeing one of the world's greatest cricketers, the South African black player, Basil D'Olivera play for England instead of his native nation - both Swanton and Arlott hated racism and its treatment of blacks and through to the upheavals and eventual transformation of the world game through the Australian Kerry Packer's World Series Cricket.

The two men were not friends. It is fair to say that Swanton was seen and indeed heard by many as snobbish and unlikeable, whilst others disliked Arlott's Hampshire burr, but both men respected each other and the game respected them both.
They produced outstanding articles, good high-selling books and many memorable comments and commentary on the game, the matches and the players. They did indeed grapple with the changes that time, technology, society and increasingly business brought to cricket around the world, but what shines through is their love of cricket as a game and indeed as an institution This did not however stop them from seeing things as others did, or indeed at times ought to have seen them - and they made sure match officials, the establishment and their legions of listeners, readers and fans knew this: training schools being needed, a properly located MCC library, the MCC's dallying over South African tests within the Apartheid era, the support for one-day games and much needed sponsorship and indeed of course television for good and bad.

The soul of cricket changed during their long lives - Arlott died in 1991 aged 77 and Swanton in 2000 aged 92 - as one would expect over such a period of time. Some of that change to their minds lessened the values, intricacies and beauty of cricket, whilst others perhaps not palatable but necessary continued their beloved game's existence as other sports and enterainments pressed. That existence continues to be threatened at county level certainly and possibly even wider in England, and TV casts its shadow wide as T20 and IPL add more challenge to the traditions and traditional game - notably in England the disappearance from free-to-air TV to Sky and the monies broadcasters offer leagues and players, especially the short 20 or 40 over a side game.

What isn't threatened though is both John Arlott's and Jim Swanton's place in and to the game: they are part of English cricket's soul and deservedly so.

[Colin · Rating 5 out of 5]

At first glance, to the casual reader at least, the subject matter of this wonderful book doesn't seem enormously promising: the parallel lives of two very different, but strangely congruent, cricket journalists and commentators may not seem to offer much in the way of thrills and spills. Nevertheless, the story of John Arlott and E. W. (Jim) Swanton and of English cricket from the forties through to the eighties is an utterly compelling one. Arlott, with his rich Hampshire accent, from a working-class background, oenophile, poet and ex-policeman couldn't have been more different from the upper-middle class Swanton, a man overflowing with self-belief, frequently pompous and occasionally snobbish, who nevertheless saw through the evils of Apartheid before anyone else and was frequently ahead of the field when it came to the need for the national game to change and reinvent itself. David Kynaston, one of the authors, is a renowned social historian, and that's effectively what this book is - a social history of cricket told through the lives of two of the game's greatest observers.

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a book for cricket lovers who remember the sport before commercialisation and over exposure. The narrative is woven around two contrasting individuals linked by a shared passion for the game and it's essence. It was through Arlott and Swanton more than any other broadcaster/writers, that cricket's difficult passage, on an off the field, through the second half of the twentieth century was conveyed to the listener and reader. Both gave much more to cricket than paid observations. Both men immersed themselves in cricket's institutions, Arlott on the side of the players, Swanton with the establishment. Both found adapting to change difficult, both fought tenaciously against racism in sport. Like the authors I started this book as an Arlott man. I still am, but Swanton has risen. My book of the year so far.

[Ruth · Rating 4 out of 5]

You’ll need to know your cricket and its past greats to understand this biography of two of its most formative commentators. Fortunately I was brought up in it.

[Tony · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sometimes I like to pick up a book at almost random and give it a read. I like cricket. I'm old enough to remember Arlott's final few years of cricket commentary, but I wasn't aware of Swanton at all. So, I've no idea why I bought this book.

It turns out to be a rather fine social history of cricket from the 1930s to the 1970s told through the stories of two cricketing journalists. The book uses their take on things to discuss the changing face of cricket - and the country. By the time the book finishes the seeds of modern cricket have been sown, although I suspect neither of these two gentlemen would have approved of the idea of 'The Hundred'. But it is just the latest way that cricket has tried to 'keep up with the times' and/or 'make more money'.

The book talks about the introduction of one day cricket. It talks about the arguments around fast bowling and bouncers, although I'm a little surprised it didn't touch on Tony Greig's 'grovel' comment and the effect that had on the West Indies. It talks about the impact of apartheid. There's the arrival of Kerry Packer.

It's a fascinating read. The past, as someone once said, is another country and it does feel like that sometimes when you read books like this. Arlott and Swanton both come out of this book well. It isn't a hagiography, which is good but both men seem to have been pretty good chaps, although Arlott's final years don't sound like much fun.

Liked it.

[Phil Greaney · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book follows the cricketing journalists Jim Swanton and John Arlott through a series of English summers and overseas tours, bookended by some impeccably written and researched biographical notes. The soul of English cricket is explored by comparing their treatment of the cricket they saw and wrote and broadcasted about during some of its most glorious and later turbulent years.

Quite a bit of it, then, is taken up with match reports, even if they are always at the abeyance of what these matches meant for cricket and for the two men. If you're old enough to remember some of the events (I'm not; I suppose around the Headingley test, written about here, is where I came in) then this might invite a sense of whimsical nostalgia - for the Invincibles, for Hutton and Cowdrey, and for Bradman. For me, it's a welcome coloring and exploration of a time I can only read and wonder about.

Swanton comes out worse; at times, the authors are at the very least sniffy about his snobbery, his views, his values, and sometimes lacerating. There's a latent sense of the political here and although subtle, is palpable and prolonged: Swanton was a Telegraph journalist, obsessed by the status of the game, a snob who looked out only for himself; Arlott a 'man of the people', a BBC-man who didn't find an essential value in cricket as a game, but only in what it brought out of the men who played it; both undermined somewhat by a sense of embarrassment of their lacklustre academic life and background. I wouldn't say this spoiled the narrative - the authors are quick to report the many times when Swanton was right, say in his support of women joining the MCC and conversely, when Arlott was wrong, as in his assessment of Australia as boorish and culturally vapid. And these men were relatively complex as written here.

But it's a bit grating as are the game assessments; and it rambles sometimes, losing sight of its ambition to explore the soul of the game in England, meandering between points. The concluding chapter does little to draw things together and one wonders where the soul has been, and gone. The prose is unremarkable, thankfully; and I wondered if the men were too - especially in the ways in which the authors suggest they reveal the soul of English cricket - as I finished this, something I was rather less thankful for.

[Dipra Lahiri · Rating 4 out of 5]

Only for the very historically invested cricket fan, as it harks back to the golden age of print coverage of the sport. Swanton and Arlott's influence on the players - potential, performance and selection - was unprecedented, and unlikely to be emulated in the modern age.

[Stephen Evans · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great cricket book

Wonderful story of John Arlott & Jim Swanson. I did not get into cricket till 1981 but found it fascinating to read about the golden age of cricket

[Andrew Wardle · Rating 4 out of 5]

That's 4 stars for cricket lovers, obviously. I can't imagine anyone else being interested in this book.
Two younger journalists do exactly what it says on the tin - write about the two giants of 20th Century English cricket journalism and broadcasting, John Arlott and E.W. "Jim" Swanton. The men and their careers are succinctly described, together with their views and their respective polemics and campaigns to protect and preserve what they felt were the best traditions of their beloved sport from the threats of social change, commercialism, and occasionally malice and bad behaviour.
They agreed on much, despite being very different characters - Arlott an ex-policeman, poet, and broadcaster on any subject under the sun, champion of the underdog and the lower middle-class, Swanton a snob and social climber, an Establishment man to the core of his being, and obsessed with the "amateur tradition" in cricket.
Both opposed Apartheid, racism and Mr Kerry Packer, and both were suspicious of limited-overs cricket and the increasing influence of television over the game whilst acknowledging that its money was essential if traditional forms of cricket were to survive.
Two quotations from the men themselves:
"I think it would be much better for the game of cricket if England were to be beaten than to succeed at the expense of spectators on whose support and goodwill the game ultimately depends." - EWS on England's slow play in an attempt to save the Brisbane Test of 1958. Although typically he raised no objection to Cowdrey's slow play in the West Indies - because Cowdrey was a favourite of his.
and
"Two facts are certain: the limited-overs game has drawn, excited, and satisfied larger crowds than the three-day game could do in these times: but it cannot continue to exist on a satisfying level of performance without players - especially batsmen - who have learned the game in greater depth than the new shape permits." (JA in 1972 warning that one-day cricket was damaging the technique of batsmen and the priorities of bowlers)

But significantly, neither man called out the West Indian fast bowler CC Griffith for his illegal bowling action, an open secret among players, hiding behind the fact that umpires (under pressure from the authorities not to create bad feeling and a "racial incident") were reluctant to no-ball him. This was a blot on their reputation for fearless journalism and ultimately was bad for the game they loved. Because like Swanton's hero Colin Cowdrey, who "always walked" (except, muttered his critics, when it really mattered), it fostered an illusion of "nothing to see here" - if such lions of reporting failed to comment, it must all be a storm in a teacup, no ? No. It became impossible to call bowlers of certain nationalities for throwing, leading directly to the Muralitharan affair and the "Doosra" and other dodgy deliveries.

The book is well-written and generally balanced, though kinder to Arlott than Swanton. There are some grammatical lapses and clumsy sentences which would certainly have been disavowed by both subjects, themselves sticklers for precise expression. But if you like cricket, a good read. If you don't like cricket, you probably won't read this review, never mind the book.

[Rick Burin · Rating 2 out of 5]

A slightly disappointing book that skirts along the surface of its subject, attempting to be numerous things – a dual biography, a social history, a sporting history – and ultimately not doing any of them very well. Its focus is on two cricket commentators positioned as being among the great English voices of the 20th century: the legendary John Arlott, famed for his poetic pronouncements, liberal leanings and inimitable Hampshire burr; and E. W. Swanton (a new one on me), an unrepentant establishment figure whose fondness for amateur captains and public school matches risked making him impossibly outdated as the game became tougher and more professional and pragmatic.

While never betraying their principles, though, neither man was quite what they seemed: Arlott could be pompous, self-centred and difficult, and his commitment to the players themselves could sometimes dwarf competing concerns, while Swanton unexpectedly manned the barricades when it came to anti-racism, alienating many of his reactionary readers by taking principled stands on South Africa, and Enoch Powell’s ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech. Those passages are intriguing, and there are some effective pen portraits of prominent English cricketers of the period – Hobbs, Compton, Boycott – delivered largely through the words of our subjects, but the book as a whole is rather shapeless and aloof, moving too quickly, then too slowly, and leaning more on a kind of external completism – coupled with detailed set pieces on themes of burgeoning debate – than anything approaching genuine interior insight.

At times it’s more a collection of annotated transcripts and articles than it is an important new work, and it’s only in the final two chapters that the book becomes truly personal – and genuinely moving. Though it has been sold as a tug-of-war between differing worldviews, Arlott and Swanton were largely on the same side (that is, the side of cricket) and their supposed rivalry is somewhat over-egged, being based on some vaguely snippy book reviews and a couple of offhand remarks.

[Tim Atkinson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Any author writing a book about a great writer and quoting extensively from his or her own works is going to suffer by direct comparison. And yet Arlott was a poet, and an entire book of richly-evocative prose might lie heavy on the cerebral digestion. So actually, a book about a great man selecting some of his best bon mots whilst not shying away from his feet of clay is actually a pretty good meal. And this book isn’t even just about Arlott. Primarily it’s about cricket, of course, and its ‘progress’ during the forty or so years Arlott and Swanton were reporting it. For a child of the seventies who only knew Arlott as a wheezy voice laconically reporting on the Sunday League and Swanton not at all, whose first taste of Test Cricket was Tony Grieg’s England v Australia at Headingley, and whose reaction to any mention of the greats from cricket’s past, greats Arlott and Swanton cut their teeth watching, was to stifle a yawn, this book comes as something of an education. Names like Bradman and Hutton, as remote as King Alfred or Edward III we’re flesh-and-blood heroes, still alive (mostly) when I began watching. And reading what Arlott and Swanton wrote about them gives a flavour of what watching them might have been like. But cricket had already changed beyond recognition, and was going to change even more. The political upheavals of apartheid and the commercial upheavals of Packer did for cricket’s innocence forever. It’s common to feel ‘your era’ was better and to look back with rose tinted specs at a past whose glories are vivid and whose hardships are forgotten: but through this warm analysis of an era as seen through its two main scribes, you might be forgiven from concluding that there really was a golden era. And it was then.

[Colin · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book "grew on me". I would recommend it to cricket-followers - and others interested in the history of the British media - of any age, although it is some time since Arlott and Swanton were alive and active. On the face of it, you could not have picked two very different men: the poetic man of people with his distinctive rural burr (Arlott) and the plummy, patrician man of the establishment (Swanton). The book's strength in that, by very neatly linking the two as it narrates their lives and the changing world of cricket in the late twentieth century, it shows how those impressions were misplaced. For example, Arlott was more defensive about the characteristics and habits of the profession, while Swanton was prepared to challenge those traits. Both men were strongly against racism and shared concerns about the direction of the game.

I found myself more favourably disposed to Swanton, through this book, than I had expected, while Arlott remains a great poet of the game.

My only quibble with the book was the rather flat writing style (perhaps the penalty of two authors), although by the end, this did not matter as the subject(s) are so compelling.

[James · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm not quite sure what I was expecting instead, but this covered the lives and careers of Arlott and Swanton and what they thought about issues at the time. It also described the matches the commentators were watching at the time and it felt too slow to me, while the original writing of the two was quoted heavily and I found it quite a dull read as a result.

Perhaps this was the influence of Kynaston, as I felt one of his post-war history books was a bit of an effort too, but in this case I didn't feel like I was learning useful history, and it was a relief when I gave up about 150 pages in. A pacier, or more narrative-based account, would have been less authentic perhaps, but also an easier read.

[Alan Draycott · Rating 3 out of 5]

A strange cricket book. Two biographies in 1. Good on the early of both but quite dull on their views on the incidents of 1950-1980. There just wasn't any real rivalry or enormous variation that matters today. Imagine a book on the differences in views between Hussain and Atherton in 30 years time. I'm sure a variation in how they grew up and slight differences can be found but would be worth writing about? That's where I am with this book. It's just not worth writing. That said whenever Arlott is quoted you can here is voice. What a burr! Does it still exist in some Hampshire hamlet? If so send out the troops and save it!

[Peter · Rating 4 out of 5]

An enjoyable canter through the years in which these two pillars of cricket journalism were active. Arlott the more artistic and poetic in his approach but arguably in awe of the professional cricketers themselves more than “the game”. Swanton a more functional writer and something of a self made snob. The two men had more in common than one imagines when beginning the book. I hope the great writers of the game today are not lost to history behind the superficial click bait chatter of characters like Tuffers and Vaughan.

[S Ravishankar · Rating 5 out of 5]

Marvellous book recounting the 50 years of English Cricket as described by the two stalwarts of Cricket journalism and broadcasting. Having listened to their radio broadcasts and end-of-day summaries for over 25 years, I became aware of how different these two gentlemen were in their backgrounds, political leanings, while maintaining their love for the longer form of the game. A very readable narrative.

[Mark Green · Rating 3 out of 5]

A bit dry but then again so is cricket largely. Covers the transition of Cricket from an ultra conservative traditions, through the South Africa issues, WSC and the prominence of the T20 game. Also made me realise that England winning an Ashes series has largely been an aberration! Insights into the 2 commentators and writers!

[Jordan Powell · Rating 5 out of 5]

A real pleasure to read. In the space of two months I’ve gone from knowing next to nothing of cricket pre 1980 to, at the very least, feeling as though I have an understanding of it. The book manages to remain interesting to someone who had not heard of the two subjects (and actually picked up the book assuming it was about English cricket in general) throughout.

[Andy Yule · Rating 2 out of 5]

An interesting idea to interleave the biographies of two famous cricket commentators/journalists, but it didn't really work for me, perhaps because it assumed quite a lot of knowledge about the events discussed.

[Michael Cook · Rating 3 out of 5]

Enjoyable 'sort of' look back at the post war English cricket through prism of two influential Mon playing cricket men - both who come across as pricks, remarkable the ultra posh bloke ends up coming across as the lesser prick off the long run with Arlott a complex man, suffering a very sad end.

[Stephen Hughes · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting book for cricket nostalgics built around a hypothetical and non-existent antipathy between Arlott and Swanton. Despite this, the story of two lives against the backdrop of cricket's evolution during the 20th century is compelling.

[SHANKAR KRISHNAN · Rating 3 out of 5]

Plentiful insights on the two great men of cricket. Curiously and insultingly excludes any mention of the test matches against India and Pakistan over the several decades this book covers.

[Tom · Rating 4 out of 5]

For fans of TMS

[Ben Monro-Davies · Rating 4 out of 5]

One for cricket fans only really - but a lovely window on the game through the lives of two writers.

[Mr John W Palmer · Rating 4 out of 5]

well written

Well written as usual . Interesting contrast between the two writers . Always preferred Arlott for his grasp of prose and Hampshire burr

[5greenway · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very enjoyable, but writing style not always to my taste (bit journalist-ese?)