328 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 
— I feel half inclined to say — throw the bat 
after it, and such a ball can be cut with ease. 
The point to bear in mind about a cut is that 
it is not a hit at all in the generally-understood 
sense of the word — it is just an indescribable 
flick which deflects a rapidly - moving ball 
downwards, always downwards, and also in 
an entirely fresh direction, which may be 
anything from the rousing square cut past 
point to the delicate effort designed to cut a 
ball late and fine through well-placed slip 
fieldsmen. 
There is something of the shimmer of sword- 
play in an ideal cut. The right foot goes 
across with the quick, light step of a fencer, 
and as soon as the weight is fairly on the foot 
the bat sings through the air and the stroke is 
made. But how ? This is a fair question, I 
admit, but it almost has me stumped, if only 
because cutting is so largely a matter of 
natural aptitude. Some men seem to cut a 
ball by instinct, and may play the stroke well 
enough for county cricket, while the rest of 
their batting is by no means above the average. 
On the other hand, many a good-class bat in 
every other respect only learns to cut a ball 
well after years of effort and practice, and 
even then is not in the same class for cutting 
as the comparative novice who has an inbred 
talent for this delightful and elusive phase of 
batting. This is all very true, but tells nothing 
of how to make the stroke, so here goes to do 
my best. The bat should be lifted easily in a 
graceful backward curve which scarcely 
changes the position of the left hand, and 
bends the right arm with the elbow near the 
side like a spring in compression ready to fly 
out the instant the stroke is made. Then the 
bat is not dropped on the ball, or brought 
down on it like a chopper, but rather flung 
quickly with the right forearm and wrist, 
especially the latter, at the rapidly-moving 
ball, with an action which gives a skimming 
effect to the flashing bat as it comes into 
almost imperceptible contact with the leather. 
Anything in the nature of a jar or jolt spoils 
every possibility of making a cut- — the whole 
action of foot, arm, and wrist must be the 
sheer poetry of motion in ease and smoothness, 
or, even if the ball is struck at all, no cut can 
result. The left hand has nothing much to 
do with the cutting, except act as a passive 
turning-point around which the stroke is made. 
Last, but by no means least, the eye enters 
into the question. Before it is permissible to 
even decide to Cut a ball, the eye must select 
the proper delivery for such treatment, and 
then sight undoubtedly means all the differ- 
ence between success and* failure at that 
critical fraction of time when bat meets 
ball. There is no permissible margin of error 
in a cut — the stroke must be just right or it is 
all wrong — and sight is doubtless the deter- 
mining factor. Sight tells in two ways when 
a batsman essays to cut — it gauges the speed 
of the ball as it flashes past and also the lateral 
distance the ball is away from the batsman as 
the bat is on the move. When a batsman 
has the keen vision which makes the cut his 
stroke, and has acquired the physical dex- 
terity which enables him to make proper use 
of his sight, then he soon has command of ; 
plenty of strokes bowlers could get along very . 
nicely without. 
Before quitting the subject of cutting, 1 
must mention the cut with the left foot, a 
stroke played at balls undeniably short by 
advancing the left foot, and then making 
the stroke exactly as already described, except 
that there may be more swing and less “ flick 5 7 J 
about it. 
A mere turn of the wrist in forward play will 
often make a bowler quite angry. He does 
not mind having the ball played straight back 
to him, or even so distinctly in front of the 
wicket that mid-on or mid -off can field 
the ball. But when a turn of the wrists at 
the instant the bat comes into contact with 
the leather twists the ball round to leg — the 
stroke up to this point being played forward 
as correctly as any old-style school coach 
could desire, then the bowler feels that he has 
a legitimate grievance. This stroke is not 
very difficult when once the knack is acquired 
of twisting the bat just at the moment when 
the ball is' on it. This is entirely a matter of 
judgment, as it is obviously impossible for a 
batsman to hope to twist his wrists after the 
impact of the ball is felt. Really, the stroke 
constitutes a splendid test of the merit of the 
forward play of an individual batsman ; but 
the stroke is very deceptive in appearance, 
because after the strong turn of the wrists 
which marks its departure from a forward 
stroke of the ordinary type it is finished by 
bringing the right shoulder round together 
with the upper part of the body ; and thus 
conveys the impression that some extraordin- 
ary body action precedes contact between bat 
and ball' when the leg-glance is utilized. Such 
is not the case, and the batsman who welds the 
truth of the matter into his game is well on the 
way towards mastering a stroke many bowlers 
would almost like to see “ barred 77 by the 
M.C.C. 
Last, but by no means least, I propose to 
mention the quick-footed drive that dash 
out to meet the ball which makes a good 
