Rhys Williams

It is with great sadness that we must report the passing of Merstham CC stalwart Rhys Williams on 9 September 2025. 

A resolute left-handed opening bat, sometime wicket-keeper and very occasional right arm leg-spin bowler, Rhys played for Merstham with distinction between 1971-1978 until he moved to Birmingham with his NHS work. 

He began his Merstham career in the Second XI where he immediately began scoring heavily in good standard league cricket. Indeed, he made a thousand runs in consecutive seasons before we managed to prize him away from the clutches of his second team captain, Roy Smith, and persuade him to play for the First XI. His transition was seamless and he continued to score heavily in the higher standard of cricket. There were three main reasons for this: -

• His technique was very simple with few moving parts. He scored the vast majority of his runs in the arc between square leg and fine leg with glances and pulls and seldom, if ever, missed a scoring opportunity in that area.
• He was totally unruffled by the quicker bowlers
• He loved batting and had to be prized out. He never, ever gave his wicket away. He was a Captain’s dream if you were up against it.

His running between the wickets was less dependable – I remember one opposition member saying he thought he was on castors. And he was a great counter – he would often defend five balls to mid-off or mid-on, play exactly the same shot on the sixth and call you for a kamikaze single to pinch the strike - you needed to have your head on when backing up.

And he was unique and fun company. A few repeatable incidents from the Devon Tour extravaganzas in the seventies and early eighties spring to mind: -

• As well as a flutter on the dogs and horses, he loved playing the fruit machines. At one pub in North Devon after the game he won a jackpot of tokens that could only be redeemed in that pub. At which point we all decided to leave along with his lift. His face was a picture of utter dejection.
• His occasional leg-spin was pressed into service on the flattest of pitches at Raleigh when we were all getting some severe banjo. A five-foot-tall Welshman repeatedly smote him into an adjacent garden, each time taking ages to retrieve the ball. Repeat of above facial expression
• On the way home from tour one year Rhys, myself and my then girlfriend broke down (failed alternator) in Dick Mantell’s Dad’s Triumph Dolomite on the Andover by-pass at about 10pm. No mobile phones then. We had to be towed to an all-night café to await new parts the following morning. I often think Private Frazer was modelled on Rhys’s demeanour that evening. 

But it was precisely because Rhys was otherwise such humorous company that these incidents stick in the mind. 

He met his wife Heather at the Hospital at which they both worked after his move to Birmingham in 1978. They subsequently married in March 1981 and I remember Heather saying at the reception that when she asked her parents if she could bring a young man home they straight away asked 'what's he like?' to which her immediate response was 'anything except curry'!" They remained happily in the area throughout their marriage. 

I, along with everyone who knew him and played cricket with him, miss his unique dry humour and his company. He spent several Christmas days with us at our family home and was very much part of that family on those days.

The photo by the way is from the 1980 Devon Tour and Rhys is seated centrally with the pads on (either just before or after keeping wicket presumably). 

Our condolences and deepest sympathies go to Heather and she knows that Rhys is most fondly remembered at this end of the country too. He will be calling St Peter for a dodgy single as we speak.