One of the staples of cricket in the Caribbean has been the presence of a bunch of eccentric dramatis personae at grounds during matches throughout the entire region.
These characters fall into two groups: entertainers and cricket aficionados, with the odd exception capable of donning both hats. The gathering of exhibitionists consists of musical contributors, impersonators, amateur cricketers, and exquisitely dressed local nobility. The last mentioned are a walking collection of cricket encyclopaedias who serve as the ‘Supreme Court’ on cricket disputes in the stands.
These crowd favourites always garnered the attention of radio commentators during crucial moments in Test matches and quite often were the subject of lunch-break interviews.
The advent of televised cricket broadcasts in 1990, propelled them from mere voices to living colour for those who had previously only heard them. Among these celebrities were King Dyal, who swapped his multi-coloured suits before every session of play (In Search of West Indies Cricket, 28th August, 2016 – The Ramblings of the King of Kensington Castle); the role-playing, wacky Antiguan duo of Gravy (who possessed an endless array of costumes, including Santa Claus) and Mayfield, who, for years entertained many packed houses at the Antigua Recreation Ground with their hilarious skits; and the Trinidadian duet of conch shell blowing policemen, Gabriel “Blue Food” Lafond and Rawle Keller, whose blasts were heard as far away as Australia.
The blowers were conveniently entrenched for over three decades below the commentary booth situated in the Learie Constantine Stand, formerly the old Concrete Stand, the favoured watering hole of the local grassroot cricket fans at the Queen’s Park Oval.
The trailblazers of this unique Caribbean heritage, who, unfortunately, were not captured for posterity by modern technology, included personalities from the Big Four: Barbados, British Guiana, Jamaica and Trinidad and Tobago. In the 1930s and 40s, the cricket rivalry between Barbados and Trinidad was very intense, and the two territories paid their respective cheerleaders to travel with their teams. At these highly anticipated clashes Trinidadian cheerleader, “Taffy”, a dapper gentleman, engaged in heated battles with Barbados’ “Flannagan” over the exploits of their respective demigods, Learie Constantine and George Challenor, much to the approval of the crowds. At Sabina Park in Jamaica, until the mid-1980s, the crowds were entertained at the lunch interval by “Lennie”, who performed flawless imitations of international sports legends including Garry Sobers, Muhammad Ali and Pele.
Jack Waterloo
One of the prominent local cricket aficionados was a short, dapper man by the name of Charles Robinson, who was known to the world at large as Jack Waterloo. A school teacher by profession, he taught children confronting the fearful Common Entrance Examination (now the National Grade Six Assessment). Waterloo, fastidious about his appearance, was always clean shaven, neatly attired in a sharply pressed short sleeve shirt and trousers, socks and polished shoes, complemented with a delicately poised weathered felt hat. Waterloo, who stood at approximately 5’ 4”/ 5’ 5”, could best be described as Napoleonic in appearance and nature.
He possessed a loud voice and was often heard before he was seen – if at all – since he was inevitably engulfed by a swarm of eager listeners gulping down the edicts of his extensive knowledge, his gift of assessing the state of a game, and elephant-like memory of past encounters. If one happened to catch a glimpse of Waterloo purposefully pedalling his bicycle, he was probably on his way to one of three locales.
Demerara Cricket Club (DCC)
The DCC was founded in 1912 by a group of Portuguese businessmen, and membership has been open to anyone since 1913. The club’s ground is nestled in the heart of the ward of Queenstown, picturesquely bordered by a church, a school and residences. The quad is situated just three short corners north of the Georgetown Cricket Club (GCC), its fabled rival, once the domain of British colonialist exclusivity. Waterloo was the de facto leader of a band of supporters of the DCC, who keenly followed the club’s team anywhere it played in the city, most notably during its golden era of the 1950s and 60s.
It was a motley crew accompanying Waterloo and boisterously supporting the Fred Wills-led DCC teams. Ensconced on the southern side of the DCC pavilion, the cast included ‘Bow tie’ who was particularly adept at heckling the opposition’s batting, a Barbadian named Wheeler (who had no use for his fellow Bajan, Clyde Walcott, then coaching on the Bookers controlled sugar estates) and Morgan, an inexhaustible fountain of data on English players, and as equally boisterous as Waterloo. The ensemble’s banter often attracted as much attention as the action in the middle, as they argued and needled each other with sharp barbs.
North West Stand
In those days trial matches, territorial matches, other first class games (such as the Jones Cup), Shell Shield fixtures, matches involving touring sides and Test matches were staged at the GCC. Waterloo and his eclectic band would make the short trek down New Garden Street to Bourda and set up shop in the North West Stand (NWS). The NWS, as its title suggests, occupied the north-west corner of the ground, extending from the western side of the North Road sightscreen to the Flagstaff Stand, which abutted the T- junction at the eastern end of Robb and New Garden streets. Its main entrance, a wide gate with an expansive concrete bridge, was on the latter street, close to the Flagstaff Stand, and was often the scene of large gatherings at the close of play of the aforementioned matches. From the midst of this multitude could be heard voices yelling at fever pitch about some aspect of the game – an umpire’s verdict or a fluffed chance and its subsequent consequences – giving rise to fears among the uninitiated that a riot was on the verge of erupting. Invariably, it was Waterloo and/or Morgan, laying down the law or educating the uninformed about the vagaries of the game.
The NWS had about five or six tiers and provided an excellent unencumbered view of the ground. It was from here that Waterloo dispensed his wisdom on the game and displayed his uncanny ability to predict the great players early in their careers. Brent Chapman (late sports editor at Radio Demerara) in his tribute to Waterloo – “Cricket sage ‘Waterloo’ was a living legend” – remembered sitting with Waterloo in the NWS in 1967 on the last day of the final Shell Shield Trial match. Roy Fredericks, the opening batsman from the DCC, was out of form and woefully short of runs, and there was little chance of his selection for the opening match against the strong Barbados team. As the game petered out and the day drew to a close, Fredericks was sent into bat very late in the order, either seventh or eighth.
“Upon seeing this, Waterloo sat up and took note,” Chapman recalled. “What followed was that in his brief stay at the crease Fredericks made something like forty runs, but the thing that struck Waterloo was the manner in which he made [them]. His shots were all crisp and of the highest order. Immediately, Waterloo jumped out of his seat at the fall of Fredericks’ wicket and shouted loud and clear, ‘… I know you all ain’t going pick this man, but he should play, he could bat more than half of them who making a lot of runs in the trials. You all gon’ sorry’.”
As Waterloo had predicted, Fredericks was not selected in the Guyana XI, but on the morning of the match when Stephen Camacho fell ill, he was chosen as the last-minute replacement. Fredericks seized the opportunity with bold hands, solidifying his place as his country’s opening bat for years to come, with a hundred in each innings (127 & 115), against an attack which included Garry Sobers, David Holford, Tony Howard, Prof Edwards and Rawle Brancker. Like all pundits, Waterloo was fallible and could also get it completely wrong. Notably was his initial dismissal of an upcoming prodigy, Clive Lloyd, as a “flash in the pan”, despite his 900-odd runs in the 1963 Case Cup (First Division) season.
‘The House’
Waterloo’s principal seat of governance was a venue known to the city’s cricket fans simply as ‘The House.’ It was, in fact, Milton Chin’s Parlour, located at 124 King Street, immediately south of the famous ACME Photo Studio situated at the south-west corner of Regent and King streets. ‘The House’ is an important part of the folklore history of cricket in the Caribbean. Prior to the birth of smartphones, the internet, fax machines, and the abundance of telephone landlines, cricket fans would often have to wait for the evening sports news or the next day’s newspapers for cricket scores from faraway lands such as Australia and New Zealand. ‘The House’s’ proprietor, Mr Chin, a keen follower of the game, owned a shortwave radio and kept abreast of overseas matches. Zealous fans could pause by this public gallery, and quickly read the blackboard hanging outside the shop on which the scores of overseas matches were posted in chalk on a daily basis.
It was here that Waterloo, the acknowledged ‘Head of House’ held court. Harsh disputes were often settled by referencing ‘The House’s’ library, which consisted of a collection of Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack (cricket ‘s bible) and other cricket books. Official membership of, or acceptance at, ‘The House’ was only bestowed on those who were considered to possess a thorough understanding and appreciation of the game. Sadly, by the mid-1970s, this local treasure was no longer functioning.
Royalty
There were many pretenders seeking Waterloo’s crown as the leading cricket aficionado in the territory. ‘Memory Man Gonsalves’ would certainly have surpassed Waterloo’s near photographic recall. ‘Bow tie’ was probably quicker with a wisecrack. Morgan might have been his equal when it came to English cricket, and others might have been better at assessing talent. What separated Waterloo from the pack was his access to cricket royalty. Besides being a net bowler in his younger days when overseas teams visited and on speaking terms with several leading cricketers, Waterloo enjoyed personal relationships with West Indies cricket royalty.
At the start of their respective careers, Waterloo identified two players, for whom he held the highest admiration, Frank Worrell and Rohan Kanhai. Waterloo first met Worrell during his initial match at Bourda, British Guiana versus Barbados, 30th September – 4th October, 1944. Their friendship would grow over the years, and when Worrell visited the colony after the successful 1963 tour of England, the front page of one of the daily newspapers, the Graphic, carried a photograph of Waterloo shaking the then West Indies Captain’s hand. Likewise, Waterloo met Kanhai during his initial trial matches. As Chapman noted in his tribute, “One only had to see the way in which Kanhai would seek him out in the crowd before a Test match and the manner in which they would sit down and converse at the end of the day’s play to know that their association was an enviable one.”
Passing
Jack Waterloo passed away in 1977, at the relatively young age of 56. During a specially arranged call-in programme hosted by the then Guyana Broadcasting Service many well-known personages paid tribute to the cricket sage. Here’s an excerpt from Lance Gibbs’ tribute, “I am very sorry to hear that he passed away, but he was perhaps the most humourous of critics and one of the most knowledgeable that I have had the pleasure of associating with during my cricketing years. He was probably the greatest supporter of two of the world’s greatest players, Sir Frank Worrell and Rohan Kanhai.” A large number of folks from all walks of life attended his funeral.
There will never be another Jack Waterloo. Perhaps one day, when the Guyana Cricket Hall of Fame is revived, Waterloo will be duly inducted as the face and voice of all the fans who have contributed to the legacy of the game here.
