Hellraiser at the crease

'At some particularly slow moment, Richard Harris said to me, "You know, playing cricket is like getting drunk but very, very slowly" '

I have received many letters of tribute to that fine actor, the late Richard Harris, and in his honour I would like to print a few of them today.

From Sir George 'Gubby' Trotter

Sir, On reading all the warm obituaries so deservedly penned in memory of the late Richard Harris, I am more than taken aback to find that there was no mention in any of them of his lifelong love of the game of cricket. It may seem odd that a man known as an international movie actor and a hellraiser should be drawn to the rather more sedate pleasures of cricket, but I well remember something he said to me some time in the 1960s. At the time, we were standing side by side in the slips while fielding for A Showbiz XI against Another Showbiz XI (I believe that many entertainers preferred to perform anonymously, for tax reasons). At some particularly slow moment, he turned to me and said:

"You know, playing cricket is like getting drunk, but very, very slowly. When you take a drink or two, you gradually relax and let the natural bonhomie take over, until you start doing things that you would not otherwise do. Same in cricket."

"Are there things in cricket we do that we would not otherwise do?" I said. He turned those piercing eyes on me and said: "Oh, Gubby, Gubby. We willingly run about a field in long white trousers, we walk in and out towards the batsman like the tide advancing and retreating, we place our private parts in a small plastic box, and you ask if we do things that no sane man would do sober?"

And having delivered himself of this profundity, he drew a hip flask from his pocket and took a meditative swig of some amber liquid.

yours etc

From Mr Frankie O'Driscoll

Sir, I will vouch for the foregoing. Harris was one of the most entertaining companions in the field you could imagine. I used to play with him in an outfit called the Irish Ramblers XI, and I remember asking him once what was the attraction of a leisurely game such as cricket to a movie star and hellraiser like him. To my surprise, he invoked Einstein's Theory of Relativity as an explanation.

"You obviously think that for a supposed hellraiser like me, cricket would be incredibly slow. What you forget is that anything is fast compared with film acting. Film acting consists of getting there early, waiting till nothing happens, then going home late. It's so slow that it's the only art form that has got a reverse gear. It makes cricket look positively dynamic and non-stop. People sometimes laugh at cricket because it takes five days to play, and even then there's no result. Jesus, what do you think you've got after five days of filming? It's also the reason I take a small nip now and again."

At which point, he took a small, contemplative draught from some small phial in his pocket.

yours etc

From Mr Marty Amis (no relation)

Sir, Your readers may not realise this, but one of Richard Harris's chief ambitions was to lead a cricket team in the field against one led by Mr Oliver Reed. Both had reputations as cricketers and hellraisers, and I think Richard saw it as a chance to settle the precedence. I feel very sorry for the person who had to arrange it, and as that person was me, I think some self-pity is in order.

I finally, after two years of negotiation, sorted out a Saturday when everyone was free, and hired a cricket pitch in the West Country, near Yeovil, where there was a village green and a pub. It was idyllic. Or it would have been, if Richard Harris's team had turned up. Mr Reed came with his XI and claimed the match on Harris's non-appearance. It turned out that Harris had not been listening and, instead of going to Yeovil, had turned up at the Oval. There was a Test match going on at the time. Harris had tried to clear them off the pitch, saying that he had hired the place for the day. I draw a veil over the rest.

yours etc

From Sir Vernon Drewett

Sir, Let us never forget that there was a more serious side to Richard. Once, while sharing the slips with him, I asked him if there was anything he regretted in life. "Apart from all the things I've done, you mean?" he said. "Well, yes, I regret being called a hellraiser. I've never quite known what it meant, for a start. But for a man who was raised an Irish Catholic, it has awful implications. Or was I raised a Protestant? God, I can't remember now. That's the trouble with being a hellraiser. After a while, you can't remember anything. After about two hours, generally. I'm sorry, what was the question?"

And he took a pensive suck at a small glass container concealed about his person.

yours etc