The American Guide to the Laws of Cricket: PRESENTED BY MONTAGU ODD & SONS

By James Allister Odd

What happens when an American, with deep ties to England’s proud cricketing heritage, becomes captivated by the complexities of a game most in his homeland dismiss as arcane? In The American Guide to the Laws of Cricket, the great-grandson of Montagu Odd—a renowned cricket bat manufacturer—explores the history, traditions, and evolution of cricket from an outsider’s perspective.

Part memoir, part cultural study, this book unravels cricket’s deep roots in British history and the Empire’s expansion. It also offers a comprehensive guide to the Laws of Cricket, breaking down every rule with clarity and detail to make the game accessible to newcomers. With wit and insight, the author takes readers on a personal journey, weaving in his unique lineage as one of the few Americans with titles of nobility, while reflecting on how cricket offers a counterpoint to the fast-paced, win-at-all-costs mentality of modern life.

Whether you’re new to the game or a seasoned fan, The American Guide to the Laws of Cricket is an engaging and informative exploration of the game’s charm, its intricate rules, and its unlikely resonance—on and off the pitch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Corso Publishing
• Release date: Oct 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798218987589

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The American Guide to the Laws of Cricket

Copyright 2024 by Corso Publishing

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Corso Publishing LLC

101 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10013 United States

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eBook ISBN: 9798218987589

To my children, Naiya and Haley.

We your legacy, you are our future.

To my wife

you are my insparation and joy.

In Memoriam

My father - a legend to many - an adventurer, a soldier, a sportsman. But to me, he was something far greater: my friend and confidant.

Author’s Note

Sitting in my father’s den, nestled deep in the wilds of Alaska, I found myself surrounded by the trophies of a life lived in pursuit of adventure. Mounted on the walls, the imposing heads of big game animals stared down at me—silent testaments to my father’s prowess as a hunter and his unyielding spirit. The room itself felt like an extension of his presence.

But amid the trophies of wild places and daring hunts, my eyes were drawn to something entirely different. Hanging inconspicuously on the wall was an old cricket bat and ball. They looked almost out of place in this room of rugged masculinity, reminders of a different kind of legacy—a quieter, more refined one that spoke of England, tradition, and family heritage.

I pointed to them and said, You know, I’m thinking of writing a book about cricket. And maybe, just maybe, I’m even thinking of starting up the old firm again... bringing back Montagu Odd & Sons.

The words hung in the air for a moment. My father looked at me with a glint of curiosity in his eyes, and with that simple introduction, an evening of storytelling, memory, and discovery began. We sat together, sifting through old papers and photo albums, unearthing faded articles and photographs from the days when Montagu Odd, my great-grandfather, was one of the most respected names in the cricketing world. We uncovered letters and invoices from the family business, Odd & Sons, which had once crafted some of the finest cricket bats in England. To hold these items in my hands was to feel the weight of history, a connection to a past I hadn’t fully appreciated.

For my father, the past was everything. It was not just something to be remembered—it was a guidepost, the root from which we all sprang, and the rudder that ensured a steady course through life’s unpredictable waters. He had a reverence for the past that bordered on the spiritual, believing that knowing where we came from was essential to understanding who we were. He often spoke of our ancestors as if they were still with us, walking quietly by our side, guiding our decisions, and reminding us of the values they held dear.

His love of history was deeply intertwined with my mother’s dedication to our family’s genealogy. Together, they made sure that the names, faces, and stories of those who had come before us were not forgotten. It was a quiet form of immortality, this act of remembrance—a way to ensure that those who had lived before us continued to live through us. And so, it became our duty, almost a sacred charge, to carry their stories forward, to keep them in our minds and in our hearts, so that their lives and lessons would shape our own.

As we sat in his study that night, my father shared stories I had heard many times before, but they felt different now. They felt heavier, more urgent. There was a sense that these tales of Montagu Odd, of the family business, of cricket and craftsmanship, were not just idle remembrances but lessons being passed down—wisdom that would guide me as I embarked on this project. That evening, in the glow of the fireplace and under the watchful eyes of the trophies on the wall, I realized that this book wasn’t just something I wanted to write. It was something I needed to write.

My father died shortly after that visit. His physical presence may be gone, but he is with me every day—an invisible co-author of this book, reminding me of the importance of family, history, and legacy. In many ways, this project is as much his as it is mine. He was the one who taught me that those who are remembered are never truly gone, and it is that belief that drives me as I write these pages. He guides my hand, as surely as the spirits of Montagu Odd and all those who came before guide me.

This book is, in part, my way of honoring the legacy that he revered so deeply—the legacy of Montagu Odd, of the family that built their lives around the traditions of cricket, and of the stories that connect us to our past. But it is also a way of keeping my father’s memory alive, ensuring that the values he held dear—honor, respect, tradition—continue to shape the world, just as they shaped mine.

In writing this book, I’m not just chronicling the history of cricket. I’m preserving the story of my family, of my father, and of the invisible thread that ties us to the past. And if this book does anything, I hope it reminds those who read it that our stories—our true legacies—aren’t found in the headlines or the trophies we collect, but in the quiet moments of reflection, the memories we keep alive, and the connections we forge between generations. It is these stories, told and retold, that make us immortal.

James Allister Odd

Sorrow is knowledge, those that know the most must mourn the deepest, the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.

- Lord Byron

Coat of Arms of James Allister Odd

Introduction

Do not call me Ishmael. I am neither Melville, Tolkien, nor Cornwell. In other words, I don’t really have any business writing a book. But sometimes, an idea or obsession lodges itself so deeply in your mind that the only way to free yourself is by putting pen to paper—or, more likely, text to screen. Call it a compulsion, a burden, or even a folly. For me, that obsession is cricket, a game I’ve never played but have come to love, and the more I try to understand it, the deeper it pulls me in.

So, what business does an American—born in a land where the purity of cricket was warped into a bastardized form—have in contributing to the lore of this esteemed game? A game whose very essence is woven into the fabric of British life, its history, and its empire, yet is viewed by most Americans with the same perplexed indifference we reserve for warm beer or the metric system.

My personal stake in all this? I’m an Odd—the great-grandson of Montagu Odd, the famed cricket bat manufacturer. Like American baseball, I’m a watered-down version of a proud English tradition. By birthright, I belong to one of the few American families that still retain recognized inherited titles of nobility in both British and European traditions, and through my work in government service, I’ve been honored with a knighthood. But in this time and place, these distinctions are more puzzling than prestigious. Here, in the land of opportunity and informality, my titles are more likely to raise eyebrows than prompt a bow or curtsy.

In my study, I’ve surrounded myself with the instruments of peerage: patents of nobility, medals, charters, coats of arms, and other echoes of a system of honors that simply doesn’t compute in modern America. These remnants of regal recognition hold little meaning here, where equality and the American Dream reign supreme. When guests visit my home, they stare at these artifacts, struggling to reconcile the strange pomp on the wall with the very average person standing before them.

Is that really signed by Karl Habsburg? As in the Habsburgs? they ask, their tone a mixture of skepticism and awe.

Yep, those Habsburgs, I reply, to bewildered glances and sideways looks.

So... where’s your accent? they continue, as if nobility must come with a Received Pronunciation straight out of a BBC period drama.

I respond with my best chimney-sweep Cockney, because, well, that’s what Americans think all English people sound like.

And that’s precisely how Americans see cricket: a relic of an empire, a game of tea breaks and quaintness, played by men in white flannels who speak in clipped accents. It’s distant, obscure, something out of a Dickens novel or a Merchant Ivory film. The nuances, the complexities, the strategic beauty of the game? Lost in translation. To most Americans, cricket is little more than an eccentric cousin of baseball, the sport they actually understand.

If I wanted to impress with my peerage, I’d be better off starring as a country lord in a historical drama. Cricket, like nobility, in the American imagination, exists only in fiction—where dukes and earls trade bon mots in drawing rooms, not in reality, where they concern themselves with everyday trivialities, like groceries and walking the dog. Nobility and Cricket are both cinematic, but irrelevant. And that’s fine. After all, why should value be tied to titles, pretense, or pomp? We’re a nation built on the very idea of leveling those distinctions.

But therein lies the paradox: I, a product of this very American egalitarianism, find myself fascinated by a game steeped in hierarchy, tradition, and ceremony. A game that embodies the virtues of patience, discipline, and the long game—qualities that seem at odds with the American ethos of speed, efficiency, and instant gratification. Yet it’s this very contrast that draws me in. Cricket, in all its slow-burning glory, offers a counterpoint to the frenetic pace of modern life. It’s a reminder that not everything worthwhile can be hurried or hacked—that sometimes, the beauty is in the wait, the build-up, the anticipation.

I have been accurately described as over-educated. After years of academia, instead of feeling accomplished and filled with the world’s knowledge, I went one degree too far and ended up less sure about everything. How much do we really know? While fumbling my way through a dissertation, I began to understand the fragility of knowledge—how easily it can be reshaped, misconstrued, or eroded. I also came to appreciate the importance of exposing one’s own biases, ontologies, and epistemologies. Perhaps that’s the best way to approach this introduction as a declaration of my own assumptions I bring to this effort. I will make mistakes in this book. The conclusions I draw will be my own, and so will the errors. I move forward with this project with uncertain caution, fully aware that I am, at best, an interloper.

So, here I am, an American by birth, an Englishman by lineage, and a student of cricket by obsession. My titles may not impress, my accent may not convince, but my curiosity is real. And perhaps, just maybe, that’s enough reason to put words on a page.

The Odd Cricket Bat Makers Crew - 1912

PART 1: THE ORIGINS AND EVOLUTION OF CRICKET

Chapter 1: Cricket’s Humble Beginnings

The origins of cricket are as enigmatic as they are humble. Unlike many other sports that can trace their development to specific events or written rules, cricket’s roots are interwoven with the everyday life of rural England. It is a game that evolved organically, shaped by the hands of farmers, shepherds, and laborers who, in their brief moments of respite, sought amusement and community. Cricket didn’t emerge from royal courts or scholarly minds but from the simplest forms of play, making it a uniquely grassroots pastime. To understand how cricket came to be, one must look not just at the game itself but at the world from which it emerged.

In the late Middle Ages and early modern period, England was an overwhelmingly rural society. The population lived scattered across villages and small towns, deeply tied to the agricultural rhythms that dictated life. Life was hard, and daily labor—plowing fields, tending livestock, or harvesting crops—was often backbreaking. But in those rare moments of freedom, the village green or common became a space for community and recreation. It was here, in these spaces of shared leisure, that the game we now call cricket began to take shape.

Cricket’s Earliest Origins: The Countryside as the Cradle of the Game

The English countryside of the 16th century was a landscape of vast open fields, rolling hills, and small pockets of woodlands. Most villages had a common, a piece of land set aside for public use, where villagers grazed their animals, held markets, or simply gathered. Commons were vital to rural life—they represented shared space in an era when land ownership was concentrated in the hands of a few. The commons were not just for survival, though. They were also the stage for the simple pastimes of rural folk, including early forms of bat-and-ball games that eventually evolved into cricket.

It is on these commons, or village greens, that we can imagine the first games of cricket being played. The earliest versions were informal, with no established rules or boundaries, using whatever was available—a stick or shepherd’s crook as a bat, stones or cloth balls wrapped in twine. These spontaneous games were marked by a joyous informality and likely drew from a variety of older bat-and-ball traditions that existed throughout Europe, including stoolball, trapball, and rounders. The fact that these games existed long before they were formally recorded reflects how deeply ingrained they were in rural life.

Stoolball: A Medieval Game and Cricket’s Closest Ancestor

Stoolball is often regarded as one of the closest relatives to cricket, with evidence of its existence dating back to at least the 14th century. The game was played predominantly in southern England, especially in Sussex, and was popular in both rural and more settled areas. Its name derives from the use of a stool, or a small target, which players would defend from being hit by a ball thrown by an opponent. The batter, using either a bare hand or a bat, would stand in front of the stool and attempt to strike the ball away to prevent it from hitting the target.

The basic premise of stoolball shares similarities with cricket, particularly in its use of a bat, ball, and a defended target. In some versions of the game, players ran between two points to score, echoing the running aspect of early cricket. Stoolball was notable for being one of the few medieval bat-and-ball games that women played regularly, and it was often a mixed-gender activity. Though less formalized than cricket, stoolball contributed to the broader tradition of ball games from which cricket later emerged. The act of defending a wicket-like target is a clear precursor to the stumps in cricket, and while stoolball eventually faded in popularity, its influence on the development of cricket is unmistakable.

Trapball: A Game of Skill and Early Batting Mechanics

Trapball was another bat-and-ball game that contributed to the early development of cricket, particularly in terms of batting mechanics. Trapball, also sometimes referred to as bat and trap, was popular in England from the 14th century onwards. In this game, players used a wooden bat to strike a ball that was propelled into the air by a mechanical trap—a wooden contraption that, when triggered, would launch the ball upward. The batter’s goal was to strike the ball as far as possible, much like in cricket.

Trapball, however, did not involve any running between wickets. Instead, it focused purely on the act of hitting the ball as far as possible, with players sometimes scoring points based on the distance or whether the ball could be caught by fielders. The game was typically played on rough village greens, and its simplicity made it accessible to people of all ages. While trapball lacked the running and fielding aspects of cricket, it was a crucial early game for refining batting techniques, especially the ability to strike a ball in mid-air, a skill that would become essential in cricket. As cricket evolved, trapball’s influence waned, but its legacy can be seen in the early techniques of cricket batting.

Rounders: A Bat-and-Ball Game with Close Ties to Baseball

Rounders is another early bat-and-ball game that developed alongside cricket, sharing several features with both cricket and the modern sport of baseball. Dating back to Tudor England, rounders involves two teams that alternate between batting and fielding, much like cricket and baseball. The batting team’s players aim to hit a pitched ball with a rounded bat and then run between a series of posts or bases arranged in a circle to score points.

The game’s resemblance to cricket is most evident in the shared focus on running after striking the ball, as well as fielders attempting to catch or retrieve the ball to stop the runners. However, unlike cricket, rounders players do not defend a wicket, and the game typically involves smaller fields and faster-paced action. Rounders is also less formalized than cricket, making it a more accessible game for casual play, particularly among children.

Rounders became especially popular in schools and rural communities throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, and its format is believed to have influenced the development of baseball in the United States. While rounders is a simpler game than cricket, its emphasis on batting, running, and fielding makes it part of the larger bat-and-ball family of sports that shaped cricket’s early structure. The transition of cricket into a more complex, strategic game can be seen as a divergence from the more straightforward play styles of games like rounders.

One of the few surviving early references to cricket dates back to 1598 in Guildford, Surrey. In a legal dispute over land, John Derrick, a 59-year-old coroner, gave testimony that as a schoolboy, he had played creckett on the common lands of the village. This mention, though brief, is a critical clue, as it suggests that cricket was being played by children in a rural setting, and that the game was already familiar enough by the late 16th century to be referenced in legal documents. It also provides a glimpse into cricket’s early status as a game of the common folk—far removed from the grand estates of the nobility.

The Agricultural Landscape and Leisure

In these small villages, where the vast majority of the population lived in the 16th and 17th centuries, the agricultural calendar dominated every aspect of life. Winter was a time of relative quiet, when fields lay fallow and the pace of work slowed. Spring brought planting, followed by the long days of summer toil, and the autumn brought the all-important harvest. Physical labor was central to survival, and with no machines to aid in the work, human effort was the most valuable commodity.

But amidst this relentless work, there were brief moments of rest—Sundays, feast days, and the occasional breaks between planting and harvesting seasons. For many, these pauses in the agricultural grind were a time to connect with family, friends, and neighbors. Cricket provided a natural outlet for physical activity and social bonding. It was a game that required minimal equipment and no special preparation of the land—players could simply gather, mark two points for running, set up a crude wicket, and play. The fields on which they labored could, in a moment, transform into the playgrounds of their brief leisure.

The early games were undoubtedly rough around the edges, reflecting the landscape itself. Village greens were often uneven, pocked with tufts of grass, stones, and dirt patches. This added a certain unpredictability to the game that mirrored the unpredictability of rural life, where everything from the weather to the harvest could change one’s fortunes overnight. The game’s simplicity and the fact that it could be played in virtually any open space made it accessible to all, a crucial factor in its spread.

The Social Fabric of Early Cricket: Community, Bonds, and Rivalries

Cricket, in its early form, was not just a game—it was a vital part of the social fabric of rural England. Villages were close-knit communities, and the bonds formed through work and worship were reinforced through play. Cricket offered an outlet for friendly competition, allowing villagers to settle rivalries or reinforce alliances. The early versions of the game likely varied from village to village, with local traditions shaping how the game was played. It was not until much later that any effort was made to standardize rules, and even then, they often evolved to suit the context in which the game was played.

Cricket was also more than just a male pastime. Historical references to stoolball, one of cricket’s closest ancestors, suggest that both men and women played early bat-and-ball games. Stoolball, played with a bat and a ball, involved defending a stool or other target, and it is likely that some elements of this game were absorbed into the early forms of cricket. Women’s participation in these early games is an often-overlooked aspect of cricket’s history, but it speaks to the game’s inclusiveness in its formative years. As cricket evolved and became more formalized, however, it gradually became a predominantly male sport, particularly as it began to draw the interest of the upper classes.

Suffrage cartoon from the 1900s - 1912

Cricket also reflected the broader social dynamics of rural England. The game fostered community spirit, but it also had a competitive edge. Neighboring villages might face off in informal matches, and these contests provided an opportunity for local pride to be expressed. Matches between villages were as much about the social gathering as they were about the game itself. Spectators would gather to watch the action, and the game would be accompanied by food, drink, and lively conversation. In these gatherings, cricket played a role in reinforcing the bonds of community, helping to maintain social cohesion in a world where survival depended on collective effort.

From Children’s Pastime to Adult Pursuit: The Early Development of Cricket

As the 17th century progressed, cricket began to evolve from a children’s game into a more structured and serious pursuit for adults. This transition was gradual and reflected broader changes in English society. The game’s increasing popularity among adults was driven in part by the growing availability of leisure time, particularly for the rural middle classes and landowners, who could afford to take time away from the fields and focus on more leisurely activities.

The period also saw the rise of the English gentry—landowners who were not part of the aristocracy but who held considerable wealth and influence in their local communities. These landowners played a crucial role in the development of cricket, as they began to take a more active interest in organizing and participating in matches. As they did, the game began to take on a more formalized structure, with an emphasis on rules and regulations to ensure fair play.

The first known formal rules of cricket were written in 1727, known as the Articles of Agreement, for matches played between teams from the estates of two prominent aristocrats, the Duke of Richmond and Sir Alan Brodrick. These rules, drawn up for a series of matches played on Brodrick’s estate in Surrey, established guidelines for basic elements of the game, such as the dimensions of the pitch and how disputes would be resolved. Though these rules were still rudimentary, they marked a critical step in cricket’s evolution from a casual village pastime to a more formal sport.

The transition of cricket into a more structured game was mirrored by broader social changes in England during this period. The 18th century was a time of significant transformation, as the country moved away from its feudal past and toward a more modern, capitalist society. The rise of the gentry and the increasing commercialization of agriculture created new opportunities for wealth and leisure, and cricket became one of the ways in which the emerging middle and upper classes expressed their newfound status.

Cricket and the Aristocracy: From Village Green to Noble Estate

The embrace of cricket by the aristocracy in the 18th century represented a key turning point in the game’s history. What had once been a rustic, informal pastime played by farmers and children was now being adopted by the upper classes, who saw in cricket an opportunity for both amusement and social display. The game’s leisurely pace and combination of skill and strategy made it a perfect fit for the aristocratic lifestyle, which valued outdoor pursuits that could be enjoyed in the company of friends and guests.

Cricket’s transformation from a village