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In 1955 Harry Ramanand created cricket history by becoming the first schoolboy and the youngest player ever to be called to Berbice trials. Before that, you don’t allow a youngster to be more than two miles to the cricket ground. But wait until you hear the juiciest part of the story. The diminutive Harry was the only player who turned up at Mental Hospital ground in short pants. It was rather unusual those days for someone, anyone to play in short pants. I too was in short pants, but as a mere spectator. That by itself created quite a stir, if not, some amusement among the players and spectators. The next day, Harry was seen ‘struggling’ along the ground in a pair of long pants.
By Shan Razack
In 1960, schoolboy right-arm spinner “Reds†Singh from Albion was also in short pants on the opening day of the trial games in preparation of the MCC’s visit to the Ancient County.
The young leg-spinner found his line, length and confidence from the very first ball he had bowled, and ended up with the most wickets-24 in all-never before or after had any bowler taken so many wickets in the trial games. Despite his excellent performance, Singh however, was not included on the Berbice side. At the end, the president of the Berbice Cricket Board (BCB) Victor De Cambra told Singh in a rather subtle manner: “Sorry son, you’re too young.â€
The three-day match at Rose Hall ‘Oval†Canje was a run fiesta. It produced over 1000 runs for only eight wickets, the total including five centuries, one a double and four personal scores of 50 runs and over. The scores were: Berbice 387-2; MCC 641-6. The Berbice bowlers came in for a lot of sticks. Police off-spinner Lloyd Benjamin took three for 172 off 46 overs. “SugarBoy†Baijnauth at the twilight of his distinguished career bowled his heart out without taking any wicket. He sent down a marathon 69 overs of which 19 were maidens for 182 runs.
Singh made an early exit from the game after showing much promise of achieving great things. Singh and “SugarBoy†Baijnauth apparently played for the same club-Albion-and it was customary then for Baijnauth to seal up one end from the first over. It allows Singh and the rest of the bowlers very little scope to ply their wares. Singh was never happy with this arrangement and disenchantment leaving so many people wondering what might have been.
In those days, trial games would be extended to as long as 5-6 weekends, and you are easily eliminated, after a failure in the early rounds, unless you were one of the more established players-a la Vic Harnanan. So keen it was then, that if you want to make the side you simply cannot afford to fail.
Harry recognized the seriousness of the situation and, there and then, produced some excellent bowling to secure five for 58 runs. It was indeed a commendable effort by the youngster when you consider the top-notch batting line-up that read: Charles Paul, Rohan Kanhai, Vic Harnanan, Basil Butcher, Robert Christiani, Sony Moonsammy, Leslie Amsterdam, Joe Solomon, Hamil Murray, Ancel Hazel and Henry Pestano.
The schoolboy left-arm spinner continued to bamboozle the batsmen in the remaining trial games and culminating his sterling performances by taking six wickets in the final trial game. There was much debate as to whether the youthful and inexperienced Harry should be favored to the more matured and versatile Joe “Cobra†Ramdat, who created havoc, a year ago in Essequibo. The selectors had the last say and opted for new and young blood in Harry Ramanand. There was much jubilation around the ground at his selection on the Berbice team.
Before I do a brief summary on the Berbice-Demerara clash at Bourda, allow me to digress a little-my friend, Sam Sooppersaud loves this part of my column– and touch on a rather sensitive matter, which I was able to solve after so many years.
Mental Hospital had a reputation of providing the best tea at cricket matches in Berbice, and I was only too curious to find out, if it was so! I remember, sneaking into the Dining Hall with Harry, posing as his kid brother, and to my amazement I was simply stunned when I drank the tea and tasted the sumptuous raisins filled sweetbread. Instead of one cup of tea, I had four cups, with a lot of milk, of course. As for the sweetbread, I had myself filled to the point where I could have hardly moved. From then on, I never missed out whenever tea was served at the dining hall. Too bad, you don’t get the tea and more particular, the tasty sweetbread anymore. Doubt me! Ask Saranga Baichu! Ask Randolph Ramnarace! Ask Joe Sukwah! Ask Leonard Baichan! Ask Romain Etwaroo! Those guys are still around.
Clyde Walcott
But there was far more to the sweetbread than just simply meeting the palate. We were made to believe that on Fridays, mind you, you could take someone to the Mental Hospital for admission, if for some obvious reason, that person had been acting strangely or of unsound mind. The person would be rewarded with $5.00 and a hefty loaf of sweetbread. I guess you might have heard that story so many times before and, like me, believe it to be the gospel truth. You wouldn’t believe it, but it was not until I began working at the institution in 1962 that I found out the true meaning of the Friday’s admission, the $5.00, the sweetbread and such like. It was the rule then and even now to admit the inmates from the Georgetown Hospital Psychiatric Ward to the Mental Hospital on a Friday. This is how the myth associated with the sweetbread; unsound mind, and admission to the institution came into being. This incidentally, is not the end of the sweetbread saga. Friday traditionally was sweetbread day when everyone who is working at the institution can be seen with a sweetbread or two, even three. Friday is also the day when some people would simple stop whatever they were doing and chase after a sweetbread.
Some years later, I was transferred to the New Amsterdam Hospital there I witnessed something rather reveling. It was Friday al-right, and it was sweetbread day. I observed two porters conveying a patient to the x-ray department and suddenly one of them had vanished out of sight. I was curious to know what had become of him. I asked the porter who was with the patient where the other guy went. This would shock you! The guy had gone to get sweetbread! Sweetbread! What sweetbread? I enquired? At first the porter was hesitant, but eventually he spilled it out. “On Friday, we does dey on the look out for Uncle Dan Bourne dray cart-he usually transport the sweetbread from Mental Hospital to New Amsterdam Hospital-and once it entered the compound, we does left wha we doing, and go fuh a sweetbread. Need I say more!