A Great Film, A New Calculus, And The Story Of Three Yorkshiremen

I am always careful not to bandy the word 'great' about too careleesly in my frequent opining on films. But you will have to indulge me in the context of His Girl Friday. Even my Halliwell agrees, describing it as quite possibly the funniest film ever made. I'm not quite sure I'd go that far although I can't, off the top of my head, suggest a better candidate. It is a lightning-paced verbal firecracker of a movie. Based on Ben Hecht and Charles Macarthur's stage play, the film takes the daring (and outrageously successful) risk of changing the sex of one of the leads into a woman - Hildy Johnson, played superbly by Rosalind Russell. Her co-star is Cary Grant, possibly more briliant that in any other role and, yes, I have seen Philadelphia Story. 94/100. 

Next, that new calculus. I refer to cricket and the much discussed 'Bazball', itself a nomenclature not loved by its principal practitioners, Messrs Stokes and Brendan McCullum. Mind you Stephen Greenblatt has never taken to 'New Historicism' even though any fule kno that he invented that critical method. Well, Bazball has been worrying me a tad. If we ignore (as we should) the test against Ireland, England, by their own generosity had thrown away two successive tests - the last against New Zealand in the winter and the first in the Ashes at Edgbaston. I like Zac Crawley as a batsman and I find supportable the view that he will become a worthy test batsman. However he gave a completely pudding-headed interview after the Edgbaston debacle in which he parroted the rot about the result not mattering and being in the entertainment business. I've been a sports fan all my life and I can tell you Zac that most of us regard the pursuit of victory as the foremost requisite of professional sport. Yes, you can take risks (including that of defeat) where they open up greater prospects of overall triumph, but throwing international matches away on the basis of a sense of theatre? No, that's professional wrestling and that is not sport.

Anyway, I can forgive the defeat at Lord's, just as I can forgive Carey's dismissal of the criminally negligent Bairstow. Such things tend to come back and bite you and Carey duly endured a tough time at Headingley. Mind you there was no redemption for Bairstow who kept wicket poorly and contributed bugger all with the bat. Which is not to say that Bairstow doesn't have plenty of credit in the bank after last season's heroics.

The Headingley test was almost too tense to watch but I managed it. Good to see one of the nice guys, Chris Woakes, a proper Brummie, scoring the winning runs. His boyhood cricket coach was my great mate ICW at Aston Manor CC. Fame by association!

Nice guys do win.

So those three Yorkshiremen. Bairstow is one and, England's victory notwithstanding, he had a poor match, as did, quite untypically, Joe Root. His droppped catch off Marsh in the first innings nearly cost England the match. Root owes us nothing. Which leaves the third Tyke. The old saw is that when Yorkshire cricket is strong, so is England's. In these days of a criminally diminished County Championship, this is harder to support but in the credit column we have to list Harry Brook. He batted with all the sureness of the infant Bambi in the first innings but then was lion-hearted in the second. Better to be lucky than good. Brook might just be both.