Denis Compton was in the Bull at Gerrard's Cross, drink in hand, when someone asked whether he was not supposed to be playing South Africa at Old Trafford the following day. Then another obligation came back to him: he was also due at the nets in Manchester that afternoon.[1]
Denis Compton, the England cricket great and Arsenal footballer, became famous for a kind of magnificent absent-mindedness. The classic stories have him reaching a Test match without his kit, borrowing a bat, and later being corrected by his mother at a celebration for the wrong birthday.
Compton drained his glass and found a friend with a private plane. Bad weather forced the aircraft down in Derby, but he made Manchester in time for dinner. Somewhere on that improvised journey north, he realized he had not brought his kit.[1]
The next day, England were 22 for 2. The South African attack included Neil Adcock, Peter Heine, Trevor Goddard, and Hugh Tayfield, and Compton walked out anyway. In one detailed telling, he grabbed a brand-new bat bought by Fred Titmus without asking, then made 158 out of England's 284.[1]
Colin Cowdrey's version, the one with the museum-glass gleam to it, made the story even better. Cowdrey said Compton arrived for the 1955 Old Trafford Test without his kitbag, sauntered into the ground's museum, borrowed an antique bat from the display, and scored 155 and 79 not out with it.[2] The score varies between accounts, and so does the exact bat. The outline does not: a great batsman forgot the most basic tools of his work, borrowed what was near, and still made runs.
Compton's record is what keeps the anecdote from being merely comic. He played 78 Tests for England, scored 5,807 Test runs at an average of 50.06, and made 17 Test centuries.[3] In first-class cricket, he made 38,942 runs, scored 123 centuries, and also took 622 wickets.[3]
The summer that made him a national sporting figure came in 1947. The Herald wrote that Compton broke every one-season batting record, scoring 18 centuries and 3,816 runs.[2] He was also an Arsenal footballer, had wartime England football caps, and in 1950 was linked to both the FA Cup-winning club, Arsenal, and the county champions, Middlesex, in the same calendar year.[2]
There was glamour around him before modern sports branding had a name for it. At the outbreak of the Second World War, he was already an England cricket regular at 21, with a playboy reputation and the studio looks that helped make him "The Brylcreem Boy."[2] The Herald noted that he was known, in that older sporting world, to turn up for a match in evening dress after coming straight from a party.[2]
That is why the stories stuck. Compton's forgetfulness belonged to a man who could dominate a Test match, not to someone drifting along its edges. He could misplace the arrangements of ordinary life and still meet fast bowling with a borrowed piece of willow.
The Birthday Call
Years later, the same comic pattern moved from cricket equipment to arithmetic. Peter Parfitt, the Middlesex and England batsman, was a speaker at a major London celebration of Compton's 70th birthday when the guest of honour was called to the telephone by a woman who had heard about the dinner.[2]
Compton eventually took the call. The voice, according to Parfitt's account, was his mother's. "Denis," she said, "It's me, your mother. You're not 70, you're only 69."[2]
No extra punchline is needed. The speeches were ready, the room had gathered, and Denis Compton, who once reached Old Trafford without his kit, was standing at the telephone being corrected by his mum.
