legitimate playing positions] to know that this was the highest score ever recorded and that the record stood until 2016.
What do you do if, at the age of 14, you've been written up twice in the sports pages of The Times as the most extraordinary cricketer of the age? They even printed a run of commemorative postcards [example R]. If the most common response upon being introduced to an [English] stranger was "Collins, eh, you wouldn't be related to that Collins who scored all those runs at Clifton in the year '99?". You'd never quite be able to live up to the expectations after that. Well, as an orphan born out in India, as soon as he left school he went on to the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich [not to be confused with Royal Military College, Sandhurst] and then joined the Royal Engineers in 1904, married a fine young woman 10 years later and shipped out to France when WWI broke out that Summer. He was killed in a trench on 11th November 1914. His widow lived on and on alone for more than 50 years before dying in 1966 in Haslemere. I could easily have passed her on the street because my family lived in the same small market town 1965-1966. What a pity, what a waste!
'Strange friend,' I said, 'here is no cause to mourn.'
'None,' said the other, 'save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours
Was my life also; I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something had been left,
Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
Wilfred Owen Strange Meeting