MacLaren's dream team managed 43 in the first innings. The old South African, who opened, was bowled by Armstrong. Australia passed the total one wicket down, but ended on 174. Here the old South African found some form and took three of the top four and four in total. After all these years, people still had trouble picking which way he was spinning it.
In the second innings, with his side 71 runs behind and four wickets down, the old man came out to bat. When he stumbled in, all nervous energy and flawed technique, even Armstrong, who had played against this man at his very best, wouldn't have worried. This wasn't the same man, that Adonis, the world's greatest allrounder. This was a broken ol' fella talking to himself. After every ball this old man would head to square leg and talk through what he did wrong. He was coaching himself on the field. Maybe if they had known how good a coach he was, they would have taken him more seriously. Instead the Australians laughed at him; Neville Cardus, as he would write in his autobiography later, made plans to leave the ground early and return to London.
No official time is given for when the laughter stopped. Maybe it was his fifty, or his hundred, or even when he was done for 153. It was one of three 50-plus scores in the match. It was chanceless, a self-commentated innings that took down a bowling attack of Arthur Mailey, Jack Gregory, Warwick Armstrong and Ted McDonald; a brilliant attack humiliated by an old man, an old man who had, in his own words, a "will to achieve".
When he was out the lead was 195.
Australia came out to chase and the old man was given a rest, MacLaren preferring to use only his two opening bowlers. But with Australia seven down, Tommy Andrews set and Armstrong in, MacLaren brought the old man in. Soon after, he dismissed Andrews.
He then studied Armstrong for a while. Here was cricket's most arrogant man, a bully, the prototype for what Australian cricket would become. Armstrong and the old man had previous. The story goes that once, in a match before the war, the old man was bowling to Victor Trumper, and Armstrong had told him that Trumper's weakness was the quick yorker. The old man delivered one. Trumper smashed it away. The old man looked back at Armstrong who gave no reaction. So the old man bowled two more, and both were hit to the boundary. After the third, Armstrong had a massive grin across his face. Like many before him, the old man had been grifted by Armstrong.
This time, Armstrong was not grinning. His amazing summer was about to be ruined by the blowhard MacLaren and this old man. The old man saw Armstrong purse his lips as if about to whistle. But no noise resulted. The old man had shut up the most loudmouthed Australian. Shortly after, he dismissed Armstrong, his sixth wicket of the match. MacLaren's Gentlemen had beaten this vicious Australian machine.
This old man, Aubrey Faulkner, had beaten them.
How did he drop that?
No, I haven't.