Tales of a wicketkeeper

It is  cricketing truism that wicketkeepers are a crazy breed; anyone who is willing to stand there and have hard balls pelted at your head and chest all day with little more than your hands for defence must have not one but an industrial sized bag of screws loose. If you ever needed proof of this, you need look no further than Acton’s 2nd XI stalwart, Jadvinder Sahota. If you don’t know who that is, it’s because to you and me and the rest of his “family” at Acton as he calls us, he’s simply ‘Wurz’.

Former 1st XI captain and Acton CC colt Steve Basterfield recently wrote this wonderful piece on our inspirational and eccentric wicketkeeper:

It was 1982 and I was captain of Acton’s Under 13 team. We were in desperate need of a wicketkeeper and, unsurprisingly, nobody fancied doing the job. Nobody, that is, other than a mad little kid that everybody knew as Wurzel.

Wurz was a couple of years younger than most of the team and possibly the skinniest kid I have ever seen, and I was hardly Arnold Schwarzenegger. He was brash, full of confidence and everybody loved him, bar none. He went to the local school with many of the colts at that stage at Acton High, and John Reeve and myself, among others, kept an eye out for him.

Suffice to say Wurz didn’t have it easy in life. But he was brave, loyal and an absolute winner, even at 11 years old . For the next seven or eight years he was an integral part of Acton CC until one day he moved away and we drifted out of touch with him.

Fast forward 13/14 years and I’m first XI captain. I was having a beer after a game when Beefy (Ian Reeve) passed me his phone. “Who is it?” I asked… It was Wurzel, who belted back at me “Alright Bazza I’m coming back to play for Acton.” His voice still sounded like he was 13 and I couldn’t have been happier.

Sure enough the following Thursday evening there he was at nets. He had hit the weights and I was amazed at how big he had become. He told me he was going to be the 1st XI keeper for the next ten years and asked Jambo (James Hunt) and myself to throw a few balls at him. Well after chucking a few balls his way I didn’t think he would be first team for ten minutes let alone ten years. Whilst he moved well despite his bulk but he had hard hands and balls kept spilling out . So over the next few weeks John, Jambo and myself hit hundreds, probably thousands in fact, of tennis balls at him and he slowly but surely improved. I had never seen anyone work so hard in practice, and he was travelling down from Oxford every week, often more than once.

He also told me that he could really bat so I had a look at him against the bowling machine. He was bowled about eight times in the course of a bucket of balls, although he did smash a few a long way. One week, after a long session, he asked me to feed him some more balls (he only ever had me or John feed him). I let him have his head, fed him a bucket and whilst he smashed some he also got bowled by a few. “Another bucket Bazza?” he asked. I told him that if he gets bowled, no matter what ball, I’m packing up my kit and going home. Sure enough after a dozen or so balls he got bowled so I packed up my kit and left him there alone and having to collect all the balls. He knew what point I was making and he batted more carefully from there on in. 

Sure enough, that season, due to an injury he was called up to replace our then keeper Mark Posniak, who was just a brilliant keeper and an even better bat. Wurze was as they say over the moon, but he was also seriously out of his depth. He turned up with the tennis racket and tennis balls in his bag and guess who he wanted to warm him up?! At that stage, as befitted my senior status in the side, my pre-match routine tended to consist of a bit of gentle catching and a peruse of Nuts or FHM magazine. Now with Wurz in the side I found myself hitting tennis ball after tennis ball at this nutter for half an hour! His first few games didn’t go that well as he tried too hard, was hyper on energy drinks and was determined to get involved with anyone in the opposition who gave out even the gentlest of verbals. He rang me constantly for reassurance. Eventually I had to give him some tough love: “Wurze, you need to lose weight,” I said, “cut down on whatever gets you through the day and work even harder than you do now.” There was silence for a few seconds till he finally said “I know, you watch me go Bazza.”

The following season he was back and looking as fit as the proverbial butcher’s. He was working even harder. He proudly told me he was going to get a century that season. Course you are, son! His keeping continued to improve with the hard work and he scored a few runs. He asked me about what day I was skippering on tour and I told him I’d be making an appearance at Storrington, and that if he came down for the day we would open the batting together. Sure enough he drove down from Oxford straight after the night shift. We put on over a hundred and I was out first. He got 80 odd and then got out. He got a standing ovation when he walked off and then sought me out on the other side of the ground. As he walked over I walked away in mock disgust. ” What’s up Bazza?” “You told me you were going to get a hundred and you might never get a better chance” I, replied . “Bazza I will do it I promise” Jav replied.

Fast forward a few years and I have stopped playing, but my relationship with Wurze didn’t change: he still rang me up all the time, especially when he did well! Then one afternoon my brother, Davesworld, rang me out of the blue. He was watching Acton’s 2nd XI take on Hampstead 2s at the Park Club in a 2nd XI premier league encounter. Meanwhile I was out with my wife and some of her friends. “Bruv”, he exclaimed, “Wurz is 94 not out!”  I excused myself from the dinner table saying that the phone call was urgent. I had full commentary from Davesworld throughout the 90s until I heard the roar from everyone.”He’s done it he’s done it!” screamed Davesworld. I hung up the phone and I’m not not ashamed to admit I simply burst into tears. Wurz rang me as soon as he was out and I told him that he should have got a not out! I also told him that I couldn’t have been prouder and it was fitting that a glass of champagne was waiting for me at the bar .

The following year I watched him keep wicket for Acton in the premier league and not look out of place. Still with the same enthusiasm he had as a lairey, loveable 11 year old. Now on my Facebook page I see photos of in the winter nets at Edgbaston in the middle of the winter. His knees are shot , his fingers are battered but he still wants it. If any Acton cricketer wants a role model look no further than Wurz.  The next time you have a bit of a niggle and want to drop out think of Wurz. The man is an inspiration.

Wurz you used to say that I was you’re hero well I tell you what son your definitely mine.

Love ya, Wurz, and keep doing it son .