Michael Manley, the fourth Prime Minister of Jamaica, was one of the most popular leaders in its history. He led Jamaica from 1972 to 1980 through a post-independence period. One of his key issues was liberation from the economic shackles brought from the colonial era—the lack of self-reliance and exploitation from non-Jamaican-owned business.
There was another process of liberation Manley focused on: decolonisation. It comes in two forms. The first one is anti-colonial sovereignty, to assert native control over the means of power, ascertaining a new political elite. The second one, as important as the first, is a radical form of the former—the dismantling of the previously instituted colonial apparatus in a society and government system. Independence is not enough; for a post-colonial society to be truly liberated, they must free their minds and political systems from the colonial structure that had once impregnated society.
The process of radical decolonisation is about dignity—not to be put down and humiliated, but to come to the self-realisation of self-worth and pride in your own self and as a people. Rex Nettleford, a close friend of Manley himself and the Vice-Chancellor at UWI, coined the term ‘somebody-tisation’—the process for the Black Jamaican to become a somebody in society.
Manley’s father, Norman Manley, was the founder of the PNP (People’s National Party), and he was one of the main figures in acquiring universal suffrage in Jamaica in 1944. Voting, however important it is, is not enough without a population freed in their psyche.
One of Michael Manley’s main goals was to give accessible and free education to the population. In 1974, the JAMAL movement, developed by the PNP, achieved more than 100 thousand adults for a literacy programme. Together with his plan of free education from primary to university, he opened the pathways through which common Jamaicans could obtain jobs beyond the agricultural system but also in the private and government sectors. Nettleford said about this process: ‘There must be the liberation of the Jamaican Black, whether he (sic) be peasant, proletarian or struggling middle class, from the chains of self-contempt, self-doubt and cynicism.’ In an article by The Phenomenal World, Manley’s political practice was well summarised as ‘bringing ordinary Black people to the centre of Jamaican society. […], he attempted to dismantle the legacies of the old colonial order.’
Liberation and self-determination come from beyond the structures of government, but to the very core of society and mentality. For a society to go beyond that, people must recognise themselves as a group—not mere individuals in a society, but banding together as one, recognising their common struggle and traits. As Paulo Freire says, ‘Without a sense of identity, there can be no real struggle.’ The oppressed must realise their position and their ability to change it. This class consciousness brings real, tangible change, and for that to become reality, people must come before and inspire the future ones. Marcus Garvey talks about this unity as: ‘What you do today that is worthwhile inspires others to act at some future time.’
Sovereignty, dignity, self-reliance and liberation were all the main features of Michael Manley’s politics, and one crucial event that might have shaped him was in 1935 when, at just 10 years old, he went to Sabina Park and saw greatness itself: George Headley.
That day, in the fourth and last Test of the series, the Atlas himself went on to score 270 not out—his highest score ever—guaranteeing a win on home soil in front of his home crowd. But, even more importantly, he gave the West Indies their first-ever series win against England.
Headley wasn’t just a sportsperson, an iconic figure or one of the greatest batsmen of all time—for he was all of those things. His nickname truly carried the magnificence of his being. He was the Atlas, not merely for carrying the batting of the team but doing so while it was filled with nepotism and upper white-class privilege ingrained in the WICBC.
Headley was in complete contrast to most of the top order—the definition of class—surpassing, in that tour, his previous best series average from the 1929/30 England tour to the Caribbean. In that series, across eight innings, he averaged 87.88, with the remarkable feat of being the first West Indian to score two centuries in a match. That match, in Georgetown, was also historic as it marked the first time the West Indies won a game against England.
Headley is described by C. L. R. James himself as ‘Nascitur non fit’—‘born, not made’. James exemplifies his attributes in three simple phrases: ‘He saw the ball early. He was quick on his feet. He was quick with his bat.’ As spectacular as he was as a cricketer, perhaps his greatest achievement was off the field—on the bleachers of the stadium and in West Indian society as a whole.
As much as he was cheered for in Jamaica, so too was he in Georgetown and Bridgetown. At a time when the Black population of the Caribbean didn’t have the basic right to vote, there was George Headley—the Atlas—carrying the burden of being the man to show Black excellence to the world, to best England in their own game, to bat with dignity and stamp his position in the world of cricket.
Michael Manley describes it best: ‘But it was to the black masses that Headley had the deepest significance. When he walked to the wicket, brisk, self-assured, and took guard in his quaintly old-fashioned, “two-eyed” stance, he became the focus for the longing of an entire people for proof: proof of their own self-worth, their own capacity.’
Sport cannot be apolitical, for it exists within society, and the people who participate in it are born and shaped by it. The limitations imposed by society, the racism faced by the players—all of this is part of history and the lived experience of those who take part in it. On the West Indies’ first tour of England in 1900, after losing eight matches and drawing four out of 17 against the counties, the newspaper Star published a cartoon described by C. L. R. James as ‘Dr Grace, huge, towering, bat in hand, while around him crouched six black men all shedding tears and saying to the doctor, “We have come to learn, sah”.’
Sports differ from other historical artefacts, for they are often a core and essential part of daily life for the common people in their societies. It is in this arena that all facets of society meet—whether a political radical, an uninterested bipartisan, a common plantation worker, a politician, Black or white, middle- or upper-class—they all come together during this time of the year. As Manley goes on to say, Headley ‘was black excellence personified in a white world and in a white sport’. His influence goes far beyond the boundary of the cricket field. For the Black Caribbean man, it didn’t matter exactly which island you were born on—you could take pride and self-worth in your own capacity as a Black man.
People with a keen interest in West Indian cricket history pre-World War II might have noticed a name is missing from all previous paragraphs—a player with a 16-year career who played in the first-ever Test match for the West Indies. It could be no one other than Learie Nicholas Constantine, also known as Connie. Beyond being a brilliant all-rounder—well known for his exceptional fielding at cover point, his smooth run-up, and a lot of flair when batting—he was an important figure in English politics. He published his biography together with C. L. R. James in 1933, titled Cricket and I, a deeply important work, using the influence he had acquired from playing to spread the word about racial equality and independence in Trinidad and Tobago. In the same year the book was published, Constantine also became a member of the LCP (League of Coloured Peoples) and helped advance the racial discourse in Britain and the Caribbean, while also supporting West Indian families moving to the north of England during the war.
But for as much as we talk about these great men, we ought to know where the legend originates. For that, we start in 1939—the last West Indies tour before the war and one of the most important in its history. For six years, there would be no cricket, and this period marks the sharp divide between the early history of the West Indian team and its more modern era. The pinnacle of this story—and the main object of study—is the 1950 tour of England, where not only cricket history was made but also a crucial development towards independence and the beginning of the process of decolonisation in the Caribbean.
Quite different from the modern understanding of a cricket tour, those in the early to mid-20th century were long, with most matches holding first-class status. The minimum length of a tour was around six months, usually with 20 or more county matches scheduled, along with other fixtures against university teams such as Cambridge and Oxford. Another important point that might sound strange to the modern cricket fan is the duration of Test matches—there was no standard time allocation for any given match. Unlike what a modern spectator might expect from pre-war cricket, the Tests were intended to be grand spectacles and were played on result-driven wickets. All the Tests in this tour lasted only three days, as it was rare for matches to extend to four or five days, especially in England, where the County Championship brought in most of the revenue and scheduling conflicts were a significant burden. Specifically, 29 matches were played during this tour, with only three Tests, and fewer matches overall due to Britain’s involvement in the war from 3rd September onwards.
In contrast to the attack that would bring West Indies cricket fame 11 years later, for as long as the WICBC had existed, the bowling attack was mainly composed of pace bowlers. The three-man pace attack consisted of Manny Martindale, born in Barbados—a tall and fast bowler known for his short ball; Leslie Hylton, who is now more famous for being the only cricketer in history to have been executed—he was hanged in 1955 for the murder of his wife in Jamaica; and lastly, Learie Constantine, who, at 37 years old during the tour, was no longer bowling as fast but instead delivered sidearm with a focus on turning the ball as soon as it hit the turf.
As for the top order, with the exception of Headley—who averaged 66.80 and scored 28.40% of the runs on the tour—the second-best average among players with more than four innings was Stollmeyer, with 26.60.
The first Test was an unremarkable loss to England, with both batting and bowling failing to challenge the opposition. Even so, Headley became the first man to score two centuries in a match at Lord’s and was also the first man to accomplish this feat twice against England. He built a steady partnership of 118 with Stollmeyer, who scored 59 runs in two hours and 20 minutes. Just before tea, the West Indies were 226/4, but after Copson took the new ball, they were only able to amass 51 more runs, with a first-innings total of 277. On a flat and lifeless surface, the pace trio managed only one wicket, while England’s fourth-wicket partnership between Len Hutton and Dennis Compton put on 248 runs in just two hours. With a score of 404/5, England declared on the third day and quickly dismantled most of the West Indies batting line-up, except for Headley, who went on to score 107. The second-highest score of the innings was Derek Sealy’s 29. England won by eight wickets without much fanfare.
The following match was played at Old Trafford which, in keeping with tradition, was a rain-affected draw, with only 30 minutes of play on the first day. Nothing noteworthy happened.
The last Test of the tour, however, was anything but unremarkable, producing one of the most famous draws and performances by a West Indies side in England, with 1,216 runs scored and 23 wickets falling in just three days of fast-paced cricket.
On the first day, England’s captain, Wally Hammond—having lost the toss twice before—finally won it and, on a flat wicket, chose to bat first. It was a troublesome knock from the Yorkshireman Hutton, who scored 73, playing well on the back foot and driving through the off-side. Hardstaff, together with Stan Nichols, put on a partnership of 89 runs in 69 minutes, which was broken by a brilliant throw from cover, effecting a run-out by Constantine. His mastery did not stop there, as he went on to take a five-wicket haul, dismissing most of the top order and cleaning up the tail. Using clever variations of slower deliveries and making use of the seam movement off the surface, he finished with figures of 17.3-2-75-5—the best of his career.
England, boasting a total of 352 near the close of play on the first day, soon saw their opponents in trouble. The West Indies captain, Grant, was dismissed early, leaving Headley and Stollmeyer to finish the last session of Saturday on 27/1. After a Sunday rest day, play resumed on Monday, with both batsmen scoring freely and forcing the English captain into countless bowling changes in the first hours of play. Headley was on course for an outstanding century, playing with few defensive strokes, confidently advancing down the wicket, and driving cleanly through the off-side. After Stollmeyer’s dismissal broke a 113-run partnership, Headley was run out attempting an impossible quick single—called by Victor Stollmeyer, Jeffrey’s younger brother. As C. L. R. James noted, ‘If he hadn’t been run out, nothing was more certain than that he would make a century.’ With that, the West Indies were four wickets down for 164 runs.
At this point in the match, a total collapse could have been expected due to previous occurrences, but a man playing only his second Test match, which ended up being his last, Kenneth Weekes—better known as Bam Bam Weekes—scored 137 runs in a little over 130 minutes, with Victor being crucial in a stand of 163 runs in just an hour and a half. Weekes was eventually dismissed by a superb one-handed catch by the English captain at first slip. In that innings, Weekes scored 19 boundaries and played one of the best knocks by a West Indian in England at the time. Unfortunately, being 27 years old at the time, after the Second World War break, he was 35 when the West Indies played their next Test in 1947, by which point he had already retired from cricket altogether.
In spite of Weekes and Headley’s performances, the standout performance was by far Constantine’s. So great, in fact, that Wisden went on to describe his ability as revolutionising ‘all the recognised features of cricket and, surpassing Bradman in his amazing stroke play.’ No greater praise could have been given at the time for a cricketer. He went on to score 78 runs from 103 deliveries—an explosive innings with 12 boundaries. When all was said and done, the West Indies put up a score of 498, and with only one day left in the Test, England was not able to score runs quickly enough, and the match ended in a draw. At 37 years old, Learie Nicholas Constantine played his last Test match and was deservedly named the Wisden Cricketer of the Year. In their article, he was described as ‘A cricketer who will never be forgotten, who took great heed that all nature's gifts should be, as it were, expanded by usage, a deep thinker and an athlete whose every movement was a joy to behold.’
Thank you to Luis Granada for part one of his article for the Caribbean Cricket Podcast substack.
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