Over And Out: Albert Trott: The Man Who Cleared the Lord's Pavilion

A little gem of a book, one that I couldn't put down. Read how an Australian cricket captain had a West Idian grandmother (who was a slave) to punch ups by their team in a blood splattered railway carriage ! Enjoyed very much.

Good story for all cricket lovers!

A must for any cricket nut couldn't put it down superb

My husband loved this book!

In 2010, I was sitting in the middle tier of the famous old pavilion at Lord’s when Middlesex were playing Somerset. Kieron Pollard, fresh off the plane from Trinidad, took rather a fancy to the off-spin of the home side’s Shaun Udal and launched one my way. Up and up the ball went, soaring over my head before clattering against a ventilation shaft on the tier above. It had come close to clearing the pavilion, but there remains in the history of the game only one player credited with the feat: Albert Edwin Trott. Trott’s prodigious drive off Monty Noble in 1899 is, perhaps, what he’s best remembered for, but there was so much more to the life and career of the man they affectionately called ‘Alberto’ or ‘Albatrott’. Wisden’s obituary after Trott’s tragic death by his own hand in 1914 said that, at his best, he was one of the greatest all-round men of his time. He was also in some ways ahead of his time: he bowled something akin to reverse swing, he improvised with his batting strokes in the style of a modern T20 specialist ( with a purpose-made heavy bat), he put his name to a ghosted newspaper column and endorsed a product. Steve Neal has brought it all together brilliantly in this biography: Trott’s inexplicable rejection by Australia’s selectors in 1896 when he was at the height of his powers, his contented new life in London as a professional for Middlesex and MCC, his gradual decline and his sad, lonely death. It may have been the so-called ‘golden age of cricket’, but life for the professional was tough – and there were no guarantees of a comfortable life when it all came to an end. The research here is truly remarkable – not just matches or innings recalled, but individual deliveries. However, it never threatens to become a stats-fest: it’s a true biography, delving into all aspects of Trott’s private and professional life. I came out of it viewing him, in spite of his faults, as a good man, a kind man (he would bowl a full toss to a young player on the verge of a century) and a fine cricketer. Dear old Trotty.

Such an amazing book! I would recommend to anyone that loves cricket like me 😀

good read into Victorian life-cricket