THE enduring image of Cyril Washbrook will be of a barrel-chested, open-faced man run striding to the crease, usually with sleeves well rolled up. And a cap, crammed down over an ample head, at an angle person like to call `jaunty', Or even `rakish'.

 Washbrook's dress sense brought him early problems. In his 1950 book The Silver Lining, he recalled a meeting with Lancashire's autocratic chairman Tommy Higson, after scoring his maiden century in only his second match, as an 18-year-old against Surrey at Old Trafford in 1933.

`First came his praise …then followed the medicine, not very bitter it is true but enough to temper my excitement. My boy, said Mr. Higson, I don't like to see players wearing belts, especially coloured schoolboy belts such as yours. I'd rather you didn't wear such things at all, but if you must, would you mind wearing a white one?… Another point, he went on. Many people in the pavilion are talking about the way you wear your cap. I should be obliged if you would wear it straighter.

The youngster took the point about the belt, but never could bring himself to alter the angle of his cap.

In his time, Washbrook became almost as much of an authority figure at Old Trafford as old Tommy Higson had been. In an affectionate Times tribute, Jack Bailey recalled congratulating `Washy' on two fine knocks in the late `50s: `I was astounded to see a horrified expression come over the face of Geoff Pullar. He took me to one side. That's the first time I've heard anyone call the skipper Washy, he said, as though sacrilege had been committed.'

SL

Belter: the young Washbrook

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