Victor Trumper was born on this day, 1877.

I really do not know what I possibly write about him that has not been written.

Even after a century over his premature death he keeps appearing on my feed.

Most significantly, his comparisons with Bradman.
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Cardus was what they call a fanboy but then, Cardus dealt in exaggerations. And he eulogised both men.

Fingleton's respect and awe for Trumper was evident, but such was Fingleton's animosity towards Bradman that the intention is somewhat questionable.
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Mailey wrote of the two in a fictional account but at best tiptoed around the comparison (the wisest thing to do).

Perhaps Fry summed it up best: "No matter how many runs Bradman makes, Vic Trumper's name comes up time and again, and his great deeds are discussed.
He took a hold on the hearts and minds of the people in England as no other batsman has done."

There is little doubt that Trumper was great enough to merit comparison with a man with a Test average more than 2.5 times of his.

That is an achievement in itself.
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Trumper was a master on wet wickets.

1902 was one of the wettest summers in England, and yet Trumper scored 2,570 runs at 48.49.

Nobody – not even the Englishmen themselves – got even 2,300.

None of the Australians got 1,600 or averaged 34 or got 5 hundreds (Trumper had 11).
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If Cardus' quotes work on the "numbers don't matter" lot, his performance on bad wickets should impress the rest of the population.

Trumper was also probably the first to be able to play any ball anywhere with ease.

They would probably have called him a 360° batsman today.
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Perhaps the greatest tribute to Trumper came in 1899, three years before 1902, at Lord's.

It was his second Test.

He had earlier debuted alongside Rhodes (and the Trent Bridge ground) in what turned out to be the farewell Test of Grace, the greatest cricketer till then.
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Here, England were bowled out for 206. Australia were 156/3 at stumps.

Trumper would be next man in.

He was strolling around Piccadilly Circus that night when he saw a boy selling sheet music. It was raining.

He immediately bought his entire stock.

Typical.
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He walked out next morning at 189/4. He was left stranded on 135.

The English crowd had seldom seen such versatile batting, that too with such exquisite timing.

"And I thought I could bat," sighed Darling, Trumper's captain in that Test.
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Lilley who kept wickets for England that day.

He rated the innings as the finest seen by an Australian on English soil till then.

Australia won by 10 wickets.

After the match got over, a visitor arrived at the Australian dressing-room.

He wanted a signed bat of Trumper.
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In return, he gave Trumper a bat, autographed by himself, "from today's champion to the champion of tomorrow."

Grace knew what he had seen the moment he saw the innings.

I should have ended here, but thought of ending this with a personal memory.
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A few years ago, when personalised coffee mugs came into vogue, I wanted one for myself too.

A picture is never easy to choose, so I went for the one that came first to my mind.

This one.
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