David, this is great stuff. One reason for the ducks may be because he was so good he could see things in deliveries that ordinary mortals could not. And before he had become adjusted to the light, conditions and so on he wasn't quite as sharp as he could be to make the adjustments that he made so easily when he was under way.
I read in his book on The Art of Cricket, my bible as a youngster, that he liked to get off the mark immediately with a sharp single off a tap to, say, mid-wicket. This suggests a certain nervousness at the beginning of an innings.
Also Bradman said that he once early in his career came into bat after Kippax had expertly sliced up the bowling in another wonderful innings. Bradman noticed that Kippax was getting easy single by just nudging the ball to the leg side. It looked so easy and when he came into bat he tried the same shot. But the ball came on to him more quickly than he had expected.
Kippax's mastery had made a difficult shot look easier than it looked, a lesson Bradman tried to remmber for the rest of his career.
These are all guesses. The deeper reason I think behind the ducks is the practice of the Japanese master potters making a small imperfection in their seemingly perfect pots. The theory behind this is that perfection is boring.
Bradman's ducks fit this pattern. If he never had made the ducks, the centuries and their high rate in comparison to the number of innings he played would not have been so wondrous.
Thank you David for the splendid insights in your pieces over the year and the tribute to our now older generation and plenty of good times in 2014.
Quite right. Sheek. As usual. Homer nodded once again, I must concede. Les Favell, a batsman I once saw score four fours off the first four balls he faced in a Test at Wellington. The umpires, who had turned down an appeal against the light, then gave it on the grounds that the fieldsmen were in danger of getting injured.
One of the pleasures in writing for The Roar is being part of a group of outstanding writers and stirrers on sporting matters. David Lord, the well-deserved subject of this tribute, is a leading members of this talented pack.
I sometimes disagree with David. But this is the nature of the exercise in passing judgment and opinions on a host of issues and controversies.
What I admire about David is the range of his knowledge and his fearlessness in pushing his causes.
Sport has been called by someone who is ignorant about these matters as an 'irrelevancy.' But for the true believers is it a 'magnificent irrelevancy.'
And David has brought it all to us in a magnificent career that is having a golden summer in what should be, by any calculations, its twilight.
All power to his typing fingers for a long time to come on The Roar.